GRICE ITALO A-Z C CAR

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carabellese: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale dell’arena e la pietra -- la sabbia e la roccia – il segno – scuola di Molfetta – filosofia barese – filosofia pugliese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Molfetta). Filosofo pugliese. Filosofo italiano. Molfetta, Bari, Puglia. Grice: “I love Carabellese; his masterpiece is ‘the rock and the sand,’ which reminds me of Tuke’s Cornwall! – Tuke captured some dialectic on the sand and rocks, which I’m sure were common in Ostia, too, back in the day! Carabellese speaks of a ‘semiotic scandal’ so it all connects with my pragmatics of dialectics or conversation.” Studia a Napoli e Roma. Insegna a Palermo e a Roma.A partire da una critica ferrata alla dottrina cartesiana (Le obbiezioni al cartesianesimo; il metodo, l’idea, la dualita; Il circolo vizioso in Cartesio) porta a compimento studi critici su diversi autori, tra i quali spiccano Kant e  Rosmini. Elabora la dottrina dell'ontologismo critico, in cui l'essere non è mero oggetto della coscienza ma è a essa intrinseco come fondamento irriducibile, cioè essere-di-coscienza, che in ultima istanza altri non è che Dio (che, come già asseriva Vico, "è" e non "esiste").  Difese l'oggettività essenziale dell'essere e la filosofia, non come sapere specialistico trincerato, ma come operatrice per l'umanità tutta così che la coscienza filosofica esplica quella teoria che nel diversificarsi concreto della spiritualità risulta necessariamente implicita. E allora lo sforzo della filosofia non potrà mai, quindi, essere compiuto atto seppure la teoria si attui sempre in una pratica, che è l'altro termine del concreto. Insomma Carabellese difese la filosofia come ascesa teoretico-razionale a realtà teologiche, o come sentiero che volge al fondamento comune della vita politica e che alla politica rimane irriducibile. Altre opere: Critica del concreto; Il problema della filosofia da Kant a Fichte; Il problema teologico come filosofia; L'idealismo italiano; L'idea politica d'Italia; Da Cartesio a Rosmini. Fondazione storica dell'ontologismo critico. L'essere e la manifestazione. L'essere e la manifestazione: Dialettica della Forme. L'essere. Filosofo della coscienza concreta, Ravenna, Edizioni del Girasole. La sabbia e la roccia: l'ontologia critica di Pantaleo C.. Il problema dell'io in C.. Metafisica in C.. Kant e C.  Dizionario Biografico degl’italiani. Autolimitazione della metafisica critica? Momenti della recezione italiana di Fichte con particolare riferimento all'ontologismo critico di Carabellese. E anche per lui lo gnoseologismo era il fraintendimento della vera scoperta di Kant, ed era all ' origine della moderna... intesa come « scoperta » deriva quell ' approfondimento dei concetti tradizionali che il Semerari chiama « lo scandalo...seDalla filosofia intesa come « scoperta » deriva quell ' approfondimento dei concetti tradizionali che il Semerari chiama “lo scandalo linguistico,” cioè la terminologia dell ' Ontocoscienzialismo, a prima vista sconcertante. See also the important chapter " Lo scandalo linguistico, " in G. Semerari, La sabbia e la roccia. Merleau - Ponty, Sens et non - sens, Paris, Nagel; It. trans. by  Caruso, Senso e non senso, Milan, Il Saggiatore. La ontologia di C., così, si prospetta come una ontologia della coscienza assiologica e semantica, ossia come una critica antinaturalistica e antipsiscologistica dei valori e dei significati dell’essere. L’importanza del lavoro filosofico carabellesiano, secondo Semerari, consiste nell’esigenza radicale di lavorare alle radici del linguaggio filosofico, di andare al di là della storia già fatta, come scrive Semerari citando C., scendendo sino ai suoi presupposti: ciò significa portandosi al grado zero della parola per reinventare il linguaggio filosofico e le connessioni che in esso si sono stabilite lungo la sua storia, a partire dalla cosa stessa, ossia dall’essere in cui la coscienza è già implicata. Scrive Semerari: «Sotto questo riguardo non si può trascurare la convergenza con la ontologia critica di quella parte della filosofia linguistica contemporanea per la quale, al limite tra fenomenologia, esistenzialismo e analitica, porre la questione del linguaggio è portarsi al grado zero della parola, al silenzio come radice di ogni possibilità linguistica, fare giudice della critica del linguaggio, com’è stato suggestivamente detto, la ‘coscienza silenziosa’. singolari di Coscienza si costituiscono come soggetti pensanti in comunicazione tra loro. L’alterità dell’altro io presuppone l’identità dell’io che lo esperisce come altro. Reciprocamente la coscienza della propria identità egologica richiede il rapporto di alterità come intrinseco all’essere stesso dell’io. L’alterità sempre afferma chi dice io, il quale ciò dicendo, anche trascendentalmente si distingue, senza per questo separarsi assolutamente, da un chi che riconosce di fronte a sé. Con questo chi egli afferma una relazione reciproca con la quale attua l’egoità. Soggettività ed egoità pura sono sempre pura alterità. L’alterità di ciascun io è, come scrive C., «l’insondabile residuo di meità intraducibile in esperienza dell’altro. Ma questa intraducibilità, che è il limite che la meità ha nell’esperienza, non prova che l’alterità sia soltanto di esperienza e non pura, ma prova, precisamente, il contrario, e cioè che, a fondamento dell’alterità empirica, c’è l’alterità pura come schietta egoità.. Alterità e non assolutezza dell’io L’Essere di coscienza richiede la compattezza non la relazione fra Oggetto universale, Dio, e soggettività molteplice. La relazione è fra i soggetti: infatti, l’io come uno esistente, implica necessariamente l’altro, che è sempre un altro io, sottolinea C. Diversamente l’io assoluto fichtiano, dilaga nella coscienza, identificandosi con essa, riducendo l’oggettività a negazione; ma resta così l’io nella sua solitudine e, senza l’altro, cade nel nulla del non pensare. L’io fichtiano, nell’interpretazione del C., elimina gli altri io dalla coscienza, assolutizzandosi, ma in tal modo perde la meità, approdando all’Unico, che egli vede come una nuova forma di eleatismo. C. sottolinea che se non è da percorrere l’identificazione dell’io con la coscienza, tuttavia questo non conduce alla cancellazione della meità; invece, pensare l’immediata appartenenza del me all’essere di coscienza, non assolutizzando il me, apre ad intendere gli altri. Non l’annullamento del me costituisce la base per la relazione responsabile in sede etica (Lévinas), ma proprio partendo dal me, per C. si giunge agli altri come altri “di” me, esistenti nella loro singolarità, non si giunge agli altri “da” me. Il me esistente nella purezza dell’Essere di coscienza apriori di cui parla C., in primo luogo non si identifica con il corpo, in quanto quest’ultimo trova il suo limite nell’altro corpo e, più in generale nell’altra cosa: «Io, come innegabile esigenza di coscienza non sono, o se volete, non sono affatto corpo. pur mio. Ora la differenza fra me, che pur sono uno esistente, e il mio corpo, che anch’esso è uno, sta proprio (non se ne può trovar altra) nel limite, che il mio corpo trova negli altri corpi, e che io non trovo, se non voglio cadere nell’assurdo di ritenere me il mio corpo» C. rifiuta l’ipotesi materialistica, perché se l’io si identificasse con il corpo non potrebbe affermare nemmeno la propria corporeità, ossia che il corpo è suo. Nella concezione materialistica l’io si identifica con il corpo che diventa la radice dell’opposizione con gli altri. Se si realizzasse questa identificazione in realtà si avrebbe la soppressione dell’io come uno di coscienza, e anche gli altri non sarebbero più altri uno di coscienza. Il nulla del non pensare si porrebbe contraddittoriamente come l’essere. Anche la concezione spiritualistica che intende l’io come spirito finito, ha come esito la riduzione dell’io a corpo, perché sostenere la limitatezza dello spirito implica sottoporlo al limite, come il corpo, eliminando così il me. Anche se Fichte ha evitato la riduzione dell’io al corpo, non ha tuttavia salvato la meità identificando l’io con la coscienza. Infatti nell’io empirico il me è sostanzialmente ridotto a corpo, a non-io. Solo l’Io, unico, assoluto pone se stesso. In Hegel, poi, ogni residuo di meità è tolta nel Soggetto assoluto. L’io perciò è spirito infinito, ma da questo non deriva per C. che venga eliminata la distinzione dell’io dal tu nella coscienza, ossia che vengano tolti gli altri, con il rischio di tornare a Fichte. Per il filosofo italiano «togliere il limite è affermare gli altri», non annullarli; infatti, per giungere alla negazione dell’altro, o degli altri, «bisogna prima ammettere – osserva C. – che gli altri, in quanto tali, escludano l’uno di tale essere, e che l’uno esclude gli altri; bisogna cioè cominciare proprio con l’opporre ad uno gli altri dall’uno, ritenendoli diversi ed opposti a questo e cioè col presupporre che uno (io) sia la coscienza, e gli altri no, e perciò siano non io, non coscienza. Cioè bisogna cominciare col presupporre la empirica limitazione dei corpi, la quale appunto, nella identificazione di me col corpo mio, fa ritenere me, col mio corpo, coscienza e gli altri, che col loro corpo limitano il corpo mio, non coscienza». Già ne Il problema teologico come filosofia C. afferma, polemizzando con Fichte, che la molteplicità soggettiva non è semplicemente empirica, ma pura, condizione trascendentale della “concretezza”; la singolarità non è solitudine, ma relazione reciproca nel pensare, sentire, agire l’Universale/Dio. L’io esistente, singolare, è uno, e come tale è ciascuno, essenzialmente altro. «Il singolare è quell’uno, di cui si sa l’alterità, ed è perciò ogni uno, ciascuno, unusquisque. Uno che non sia ciascuno, non è uno. E, ancora più incisivamente: «Io sono altro: solo così “sum qui sum”» L’altro, spirito infinito come l’io, per C. non è esteriore, né eterogeneo rispetto al me, non si risolve in una identificazione con l’oggetto realisticamente inteso. Nell’ultimo sistema C. sostiene l’“identità” dei soggetti pensanti, portando alle estreme conseguenze la determinazione dell’omogeneità, senza però indicare come possano differenziarsi i soggetti l’uno dall’altro. Il rischio dell’annullamento dell’alterità, pur se non voluto, è evidente; infatti per spiegare il darsi della molteplicità soggettiva egli parla di alterazione, come moltiplicazione infinita riferendola però non all’uno, al soggetto, ma all’Unico, ossia all’essenza divina, al che. Tuttavia, se la moltiplicazionealterazione è riferita da C. all’Unico, non all’uno: allora l’altro, è un altro uno, ossia un altro soggetto, oppure un impossibile altro Unico? Ed essendo l’Unico non soggettivo, come possono derivarne i soggetti? In realtà possiamo muovere anche a C. l’osservazione di involgersi in una sorta di circolo fra Dio e io, in quanto se da un lato Dio è la qualità infinita di cui l’io è terminazione, moltiplicazione/alterazione, nello stesso tempo a Dio, in quanto non soggettivo, sono necessari i soggetti pensanti. L’uno di cui parla C. è l’io che immediatamente si intuisce singolare, e che altrettanto immediatamente avverte l’alterità: «Uno che non sia ciascuno, non è uno», afferma eloquentemente. Egli sente il pericolo di ricondurre e ridurre la meità ad una ciascunità di identici, perdendo l’originalità e l’inconfondibilità di ciascuno nei confronti degli altri. Tuttavia per C. invece proprio il recupero dell’altro consente la realizzazione di sé. Ma, se si andasse più profondo in questo amor di me spirituale, che è, o dovrebbe essere, l’amor proprio, se si sviluppasse ciò a cui esso mi costringe, si vedrebbe, che, se io veramente voglio dare una positività a questa negazione del “non tu”, se non voglio divenire un puro e semplice “non” devo considerare me come uno tale che possa e debba riversare l’amor di me uno in altro uno, che è uno come me, cioè devo riconoscere l’unità, che sono io, nell’alterità. L’amor mio proprio, che non voglia essere soltanto amor del mio corpo, è proprio amor dell’altro. L’amor proprio spirituale non mi costringe alla assolutezza (unicità e incondizionatezza) della mia unità, ma proprio alla sua alterità: l’amore è sempre amore di altro: è la grande scoperta di Cristo. La struttura dell’essere di coscienza apriori richiede l’alterità e Dio o, in altri. termini, l’uno molteplice e l’Unico: in tal modo è la stessa struttura coscienziale a dare fondamento alla carità. L’amor proprio e l’originalità di ciascuno si afferma e realizza nella relazione e nel riconoscimento degli altri: «Io facendo dagli altri riconoscere me tra essi, e riconoscendo me come altro, non tolgo ma affermo la mia originalità». Per C. l’amor di sé ha insita l’esigenza della relazione con l’altro; solamente chi concepisce l’io come l’Unico chiuso in se stesso, privo di meità e di relazione, il solo, parla di offesa dell’amor proprio, ma in realtà non si avvede che quell’Unico non è più nemmeno soggetto. Tuttavia i problemi restano: la relazione con l’altro identico rischia di essere più un narcisistico rispecchiamento, che una vera relazione, più una sorta di moltiplicazione dell’Unico, un suo reiterarsi che il faticoso cammino del riconoscersi. Fra i soggetti nella loro purezza, per cui sono infinitamente penetrativi e interi nella loro relazione, l’identità è già data immediatamente: ma allora non si comprendono gli erramenti, le lotte e gli scontri a livello empirico. L’altro per C. è un altro me, non la negazione del me. Ineludibile il riferimento al Parmenide platonico e all’opposizione che Platone pone tra uno e altri. Per C., sulla base dell’essere di coscienza, tale opposizione non si dà; alla domanda del Socrate platonico su quel che siano gli altri, quando io sia, si può rispondere, che essi, non sono altri dall’uno ma altri uno, sono perciò altri “me”. C. individua la causa della “cacciata” degli altri dalla coscienza nella erronea identificazione della coscienza concreta con l’io: per tale scambio l’io annulla la “qualità” di cui insieme agli altri è individuazione senza esaurirla. Nello stesso tempo si annulla la “quantità” pura, restando il solo, che cade nell’assurdo di non essere né soggetto, né oggetto. L’io infinitamente aperto, illimitato, identico, intero pur se nell’essenziale relazione, di cui parla C. è apriori, non si identifica con il singolo uomo vivente, limitato nello spazio e nel tempo: essere condizionato e limitata persona dell’esperienza, presuppone essere soggetto incondizionato e illimitato nell’essere di coscienza puro. Sembra presentarsi una scissione fra il soggetto in quanto pensante e l’uomo vivente spazio-temporalmente, fra miglior coscienza e coscienza empirica, per utilizzare in chiave euristica espressioni di Schopenhauer, che riflette sulla duplicità della coscienza, non facendo ancora riferimento alla volontà come principio metafisico. Però proprio il pensare, da lui inteso in senso ampio come intendere, sentire e volere che si esplicano nell’attività spirituale umana, esige il livello della purezza coscienziale. Come abbiamo visto in precedenza, per C. l’assolutizzazione della. Cfr. A. Schopenhauer, La dottrina dell’idea, antologia a cura di Mirri, Armando, Roma. dimensione spazio-temporale, ossia del limite, condurrebbe all’annullamento dell’attività spirituale umana. C. non intende semplicemente opporre la propria concezione a quella fichtiana, ma intende condurne all’estremo le conseguenze, ipotizzando una sorta di esperimento mentale. Infatti, se l’Io si ritenesse assoluto e si arrogasse il diritto di sopprimere il tu, riducendolo soltanto a sua esperienza, allora «rimarrebbe sì, solo Io, ma solo in quanto avrebbe soppresso il tu e quindi anche l’esperienza, che egli ne ha: non ci sarebbero più i tu, che egli dovrebbe dimostrare essere soltanto io empirici: gli altri non sarebbero empirici, non ci sarebbero. Or senza i tu (altri) ci sarei ancora io (uno)?»18. In realtà, per C. c’è un'unica soluzione, che esclude la fine tragica della disputa: «Non c’è dunque altra via d’uscita da esso, se non quella che io non mi contenti di ricambiare la tuità, ma gli ricambi proprio la meità, riconosca in lui non un tu posto da me (Fichte) ma un altro io, e perciò mentre gli riconosco la meità, che egli non mi riconosce, gli contesto il diritto di trasformarsi in Io assoluto, mostrandogli che così egli sopprime se stesso come io, e nega l’assoluto facendolo, lui, sapere e parlare come Io, Dio, ossia l’Unico, non è soggetto, ma come qualità infinita, costituisce l’essenza di cui i molti soggetti sono individuazione o moltiplicazione, con tutti i problemi che ne conseguono20, compreso il possibile l’esito fichtiano. Secondo C. si può dire che «sono l’identico io proprio perché siamo due»: se fosse eliminato il tu come altro me, riducendolo ad esperienza, sarebbe eliminato anche quel consentire in cui consiste la stessa esperienza. Non solo l’esperienza richiede la dimensione comunitaria, ma in generale il pensare, che è essenzialmente un convenire, un cum-sapere21 l’Universale, Dio. Quel cum non è un'aggiunta irrilevante, in quanto la dimensione intersoggettiva, comunitaria, è essenziale a tutte le forma dell’attività spirituale umana. «Ci sarà – afferma C. –, anzi c’è senza dubbio, quella empirica alterità, nella quale ciascuno di noi presenta all’altro un insondabile residuo di meità intraducibile in esperienza dell’altro, ma questa intraducibilità, che è il limite che la meità ha nella esperienza, non prova che l’alterità sia soltanto di esperienza e non pura, ma prova precisamente, il contrario, e cioè che, a fondamento dell’alterità empirica, c’è l’alterità pura come schietta egoità, prova che il limite empirico, che separa me da te, persone viventi, non è la stessa alterazione pura di noi altri due, ciascuno singolare; io, alterazione pura, per la quale ciascuno, con la propria unità è immesso nell’altro uno, Cfr. F. Valori, Il problema dell’io in C.. Cfr. in proposito C., La coscienza. immissione, senza della quale è assurdo non solo l’innegabile consentimento ma anche la divergenza di noi nell’alterità nostra; consentimento, e divergenza, per i quali noi, ciascuno come altro, siamo tanti soggetti dell’Unico, che è immanente a noi molti. La differenza fra le egoità si dà solo a livello empirico, a livello trascendentale e metafisico i soggetti sono identici, interi23 e, nello stesso tempo infinitamente penetrativi. C. contrasts the rock of concrete, temporal, plural, relational being in the light of which the problem of the origin, of the foundation, of validity cannot be given up, with the sand of historicist becoming, of the historicist succession of the facts in which law and value coincide with the succession itself. The metaphor of sand and rock used by the same C. in his later writings is taken up by Semerari in the title of an essay dedicated to critical ontologism. This metaphor gives us a good idea of the fundamental theoretical instance relating to the problem of history. Such a theoretical instance is asserted by Carabellesian ontology in its opposition to historicism through the ontological recovery of time and of existence and by contrast as well with the interpretation, traceable in Heidegger, of time and existence as the outside, as the not of meta–temporal and meta–existential Being, that is, as its decayed phenomena21.”La responsabilita profonda, grave, se una se ne vuol trovare, e questo aver SCAMBIATA LA SABBIA DELL’IERI, OGGI, E DOMANI, SEPARATI, AVER SCAMBIATA LA SABBIA DEL “FUI” PER LA ROCCIA DELL’ “ESSERE”  -- l’eterno – nell’eterno -- nella roccia, l’ieri, l’oggi, e il domani non sono separati ne successivi – la copula S EST P – non S FUI P --. La responsabilita profonda e di questa coscienza storicista, che si resolve appunto nel credere che tutta la CASA umana sia FATTA SU SABBIA [on sand, not on rock]– e DI SABBIA. Abbandoniamo questa coscienza storicista di Croce, che spessso si nasconde, forse piu intransigente anche nel dommatismo ultramondano degl’ANTI-STORICI, che pur soltanto UNA SABBIOSA STORIA (la storia della semiotica, la storia di Vitruvio) concedeno all’umana attivita consapevole. CERCHIAMO LA ROCCIA al di sotto di questo SGRETOLAMENTE (la greta), che sono i successive e separati ieri, oggi, e domani. CI riuscira forse cosi di ritrovare il fondamento e di trarre anche dallo SCAVO DI FONDAZIONE, PER LA COSTRUZIONE DELLA NOSTRA CASA, materiale piu atto che non sia quello datoci dal SABBISO SUCCEDERSI DI ETA UMANE E COSMICHE. Certo nessuna costruzione noi uomini pensanti possiame fare SULLA ROCCIA se queso nostro PENSARE NON TOCCA LA ROCCIA. Nessuna costruzione possiamo fare se nostro pensare no ha LA ROCCIA A SUO INTIMO FONDAMENTO. Ma tanto meno potremo alcuna costruzione fare SE INTENDIAMO FARLA CON POLVERE di idee che si facciano sorgere o tramonatre con la storia. Su Polvere e di polvere non si costruisce. Si COSTRIUCE SOLO CON PIETRA [stone] DURA [hardened – D. Paul] SULLA ROCCIA. ROCCIA E L’ESSERE SPIRITUALE CHE *dura* -- durazione, duro – ETERNO.”  24 Omnis ergo, qui audit verba mea haec et facit ea, assimilabitur viro sapienti, qui aedificavit domum suam supra petram.  25 Et descendit pluvia, et venerunt flumina, et flaverunt venti et irruerunt in domum illam, et non cecidit; fundata enim erat supra petram. 26 Et omnis, qui audit verba mea haec et non facit ea, similis erit viro stulto, qui aedificavit domum suam supra arenam.  27 Et descendit pluvia, et venerunt flumina, et flaverunt venti et irruerunt in domum illam, et cecidit, et fuit ruina eius magna ”.Pantaleo Carbellese. Keywords: la sabbia e la roccia – il segno, lo scandalo del significato, io/tu, Husserl, intersoggetivita, intersoggetivo, interpersonal, interattivo – interazione, azione sociale – orientazione all’altro, razionalita strategica, razionalita comunicativa, complessita intensionale, il significato, i significati, l’nsieme, la comunita, il noi. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carabellese” – The Swimming-Pool Library.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Caracciolo: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale del colloquio – scuola di San Pietro di Morubio – filosofia veronese – filosofia veneta -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (San Pietro di Morubio). Filosofo veronese. Filosofo veneto. Filosofo italiano. San Pietro di Morubio, Verona, Veneto. Grice: “I like Caracciolo – at Harvard, I joked on Schlipp, and stated that Heidegger was then the greatest (grossest, in German) living philosopher – as he then was, living --. Caracciolo has dedicated his life to translate Heidegger’s ‘Dutch’ mannerism into the ‘volgare’: and now I have concluded that Heidegger is perhaps the grossest dead philosopher – “in cammino verso il linguaggio: il dire originario” –“.  Grice: “Note that Caracciolo’s ‘cammino’ translates Heidegger’s ‘weg’ – my ‘way’ of words – but for Heidegger is ‘way to’ (weg zur) – as it should!” cf. Speranza, “in cammino verso la conversazione” – versus “il cammino della convresazione’ –“ Grice: “Note that in Italian, unlike German, you drop the otiose ‘the’ of ‘way – “Nel cammino” is o-kay, but “in cammino” is the choice by Caracciolo!” – cf. Aligheri, ‘nel cammino’ OF his life, towards heaven, or paradise, that is.” Studia a Verona e Pavia. Fa la conoscenza di Olivelli, con il quale collaborò alla stesura dei Quaderni del ribelle. Olivelli divenne uno dei più noti martiri della Resistenza e a lui Caracciolo dedica un saggio, “Teresio Olivelli: biografia di un martire” (Brescia). Insegna a Pavia, Lodi, Brescia, e Genova. La sua filosofia si sviluppa inizialmente all'interno della tradizione crociana, ma poi acquisisce tratti più originali a contatto con Jaspers, Löwith e Heidegger. In cammino verso il Linguaggio. Di particolare interesse e importanza sono i suoi studi sul nichilismo a partire da Leopardi e sulla dimensione religiosa dell'esistenza. Nella sua riflessione egli ha pure mostrato una forte attenzione per il rapporto tra pensiero e poesia, tra pensiero e musica. Altre opere: “L'estetica di Croce nel suo svolgimento e nei suoi limiti (Torino); L'estetica e la religione di Croce (Arona); Estetica (Brescia); Etica e trascendenza, Brescia); Arte e pensiero nelle loro istanze metafisiche. I problemi della "Critica del giudizio", Milano); Studi kantiani, Napoli); La persona e il tempo, Arona; Saggi filosofici, Genova); Studi jaspersiani, Milano); La religione come struttura e come modo autonomo della coscienza, Milano); Arte e linguaggio, Milano); Religione ed eticità, Napoli); Löwith, Napoli); Nichilismo, Napoli); Nichilismo ed etica, Genova); Studi heideggeriani, Genova); Nulla religioso e imperativo dell'eterno, Genova); Politica e autobiografia, Brescia); Leopardi e il nichilismo, Milano); La virtù e il corso del mondo (Alessandria); L'assolutezza del Cristianesimo e la storia delle religioni, Napoli); Filosofia della religione; In cammino verso il Linguaggio; Theophania. Lo spirito della religione antica. Filosofia umana. Esistenza e Trascendenza. Lo spazio della trascendenza. La prospettiva estetica ed etico-religiosa. Caracciolo. Sentieri del suo filosofare. Unterwegs zur Sprache. In cammino verso il linguaggio. Herrmann, Die Sprache. Il Linguaggio. Die Sprache im Gedicht. Il linguaggio nella poesia. Eine Erörterung von Georg Trakls Gedicht. Aus einem Gespräch von der Sprache. Zwischen einem Japaner und einem Fragenden. Das Wesen der Sprache. L’essenza del linguaggio. Das Wort. La parola. Il verbo. Der Weg zur Sprache. In cammino verso il linguaggio. Essere e tempo. La riflessione esplicita sul linguaggio. ζῷον λόγον ἔχον. Ermeneutica e metodo storico-ermeneutico. Il ‘non’ come fondamento. Più in alto della realtà sta la possibilità. La Kehre. L’essere: un problema che rimane problema. Poesia. L'arte come messa in opera della verità. Hӧlderlin. Il tempo della povertà. Il pensiero come Kehre. In cammino verso il silenzio. La differenza e il fondamento. In cammino verso il linguaggio: il dire originario. In cammino verso il linguaggio: il suono del silenzio. “Heidegger is the greatest living philosopher”.  Heidegger In cammino verso il linguaggio Curatore: C. Mursia. Heidegger scrisse In cammino verso il linguaggio. Ci sono alcune cose interessanti e volevo proporvele questa sera. Innanzi tutto l’esordio in cui è molto chiaro e molto deciso dice: L’uomo parla, noi parliamo nella veglia e nel sonno, parliamo sempre anche quando non proferiamo parola ma ascoltiamo o leggiamo soltanto perfino quando neppure ascoltiamo o leggiamo ma ci dedichiamo a un lavoro o ci perdiamo nell’ozio, in un modo o nell’altro parliamo ininterrottamente, parliamo perché il parlare ci è connaturato. Il parlare non nasce da un particolare atto di volontà, si dice che l’uomo è per natura parlante, e vale per acquisito, che l’uomo a differenza della pianta e dell’animale è l’essere vivente capace di parola, dicendo questo non si intende affermare soltanto che l’uomo possiede accanto ad altre capacità anche quella del parlare, si intende dire che proprio il linguaggio fa dell’uomo quell’essere vivente che egli è in quanto uomo. L’uomo è uomo in quanto parla, è la lezione di Humboldt, resta però da riflettere che cosa significhi “l’Uomo”. Ora considera una poesia di Kraus: Quando la neve cade alla finestra a lungo risuona la campana della sera, per molti la tavola è pronta, la casa è tutta in ordine. Alcuni nel loro errare giungono alla porta per oscuri sentieri, aureo fiorisce l’albero delle grazie, la fresca linfa della terra, silenzioso entra il viandante, il dolore ha pietrificato la soglia, là risplende in pura luce, sopra la tavola, pane e vino. La sua ferita piena di grazie lenisce la dolce forza dell’amore “o nuda sofferenza dell’uomo” colui che muto ha lottato con gli angeli. Ve l’ho letta visto che ne parla, che cosa “chiama” la prima strofa? Perché lui dice che il linguaggio è qualcosa che “chiama” le cose letteralmente dice “il linguaggio parla” ma come parla? Dove ci è dato cogliere questo suo parlare? questo già è interessante perché non è l’uomo, ma è il linguaggio che parla, dice: innanzi tutto in una parola già detta, in questa infatti il parlare si è già realizzato, il parlare non finisce in ciò che è stato detto. Qui sentirete a breve echeggiare anche molte cose di Lacan e di altri. In ciò che è stato detto il parlare resta custodito, in ciò che è stato detto il parlare riunisce il modo del suo perdurare, è ciò che grazie ad esso perdura, il suo perdurare, la sua essenza, ma per lo più, e troppo spesso, ciò che è stato detto noi lo incontriamo soltanto come il passato del parlare. // Lui considera la prima strofa e dice: che cosa “chiama” la prima strofa? Chiama cose, dice loro di venire, dove? Non certo qui, nel senso di farsi presenti fra ciò che è presente, sicché per esempio la tavola di cui parla Kraus venga a collocarsi fra le file di poltrone da loro occupate, il luogo  2 dell’arrivo che è con-chiamato nella chiamata, è una presenza serbata intatta nella sua natura di assenza, è questo il luogo in cui quel nominante chiamare dice alle cose di venire, in una assenza, poi preciserà fra breve il chiamare è un invitare tenete conto che sta dicendo della parola è l’invito alle cose ad essere veramente tali per gli uomini, la “caduta della neve” (qui cita un’altra strofa di Kraus) porta gli uomini sotto il cielo che si oscura inoltrandosi nella notte, il suonare della “campana della sera” li porta come mortali di fronte al divino, “casa” e “tavola” vincolano i mortali alla terra, le cose che la poesia nomina in tal modo “chiamate”, adunano presso di sé cielo e terra, i mortali e i divini, i quattro “cielo, terra, i mortali e i divini” costituiscono nel loro relazionarsi una unità originaria, le cose trattengono presso di sé il quadrato dei “quattro”, in questo adunare e trattenere consiste l’esser cosa delle cose, l’unitario quadrato di cielo e terra, mortali e divini, immanente all’essenza delle cose in quanto cose, noi lo chiamiamo “il mondo”. La poesia nominando le cose le chiama in tale loro essenza, queste nel loro essere e operare come cose dispiegano il mondo, nel mondo esse stanno e in questo loro stare nel mondo è la realtà e la loro durata, le cose in quanto sono e operano come tali portano a compimento il mondo. Nel tedesco antico “portare a compimento” si dice “bern, bären” donde i termini “gebären” “generare” e “Gebärde” “gesto”, quanto mettono in atto la loro essenza le cose sono cose, in quanto mettono in atto la loro essenza esse generano il mondo. La prima strofa chiama le cose al loro esser tali, dice loro di venire, tal dire chiamando le cose le chiama presso, le invita, al tempo stesso sospinge verso le cose, affida queste al mondo da cui si manifestano, per questo la prima strofa nomina non soltanto cose ma insieme il mondo, chiama i molti che come mortali fanno parte del quadrato del mondo, le cose condizionano i mortali ciò a questo punto significa: le cose visitano di volta in volta i mortali sempre e solo insieme col mondo. La prima strofa parla nell’atto che dice alle cose di venire, la seconda strofa parla in modo diverso dalla prima eccetera … qual è la questione qui? Importante perché ci sta dicendo che c’è il mondo che è fatto di che cosa? “dei, mortali, cielo, terra”, il mondo è ciò per cui le cose sono quelle che sono, adesso ve la dico in modo molto più semplice e capirete subito: “le cose” sono gli enti, il “mondo” è l’Essere. In questa posizione sta dicendo che senza il mondo cioè senza l’“Essere”, che poi questo mondo, lui è preciso qui quando dice “la caduta della neve” per esempio nel verso “porta gli uomini sotto il cielo che si oscura inoltrandosi nella notte e il suonare della campana della sera li porta come mortali di fronte al divino” cioè queste parole costruiscono la scena entro la quale la “cosa” può apparire, come se fosse, adesso preciseremo meglio, come se la “cosa” fosse una sorta di significante, adesso sto un po’ stravolgendo ma per farvi capire, il “mondo” il significato, senza significante non c’è significato e viceversa, il significato cioè ciò che questa “cosa”, questa parola produce, se lui nomina il “suonare della campana” è chiaro che questo suonare della campana evoca qualcosa, evoca il divino, evoca la religione, evoca tantissime cose, adesso lui ne cita solo una, ma potrebbero essere sterminate ed è all’interno di questo che l’ente compare, Intervento: come se le cose potessero apparire solo in questa scena che è il “mondo”. Esattamente, però senza gli enti il mondo non c’è. Intervento: il mondo è la totalità degli enti? Sì, esattamente, poi: Come il chiamare che nomina la cose chiama presso e rimanda lontano, così il dire che nomina il “mondo” è invito a questo a farsi vicino e al tempo stesso lontano. Cosa vuole dire che “chiama presso e rimanda lontano” questo “chiamare”? le chiama le cose parlando, io chiamo le cose quindi è come se me le avvicinassi ma mentre avvicino queste cose, queste cose si allontanano anche, si allontanano perché di cosa sono fatte? Intervento: c’è sempre quell’assenza di prima. Sì, queste parole sono assenti, nel senso che non sono lì in quanto tali, sono lì sempre in quanto riferite al mondo ecco: esso, il chiamare, affida il mondo alle cose e insieme accoglie e custodisce le cose nello splendore del mondo, il mondo concede alle cose la loro essenza. Quindi è questo mondo, questa scena, io adesso uso dei termini che lui non usa ma solo per rendere le cose più semplici, è questo “mondo” che dà alle cose la loro essenza, qui sembra essere ancora platonico, questo mondo  3 potrebbe essere pensato come il mondo delle idee ed è questo mondo delle idee che da alle cose, agli aggeggi la loro essenza. Le cose d’altra parte fanno essere il mondo, il mondo consente le cose. Il parlare delle prime due strofe parla nell’atto che sollecita le cose a venire verso il mondo e il mondo verso le cose- tenete sempre conto che sta descrivendo cosa fa il linguaggio: neppure però costituiscono soltanto una coppia, mondo e cose non sono infatti realtà che stiano l’una accanto all’altra, esse si compenetrano vicendevolmente, compenetrandosi i due passano attraverso una linea mediana, in questo si costituisce la loro unità, per tale unità sono intimi linea mediana e l’intimità, per indicare tale linea la lingua tedesca usa il termine “das …” il “fra” “fra mezzo” la lingua latina dice “inter”, all’“inter” latino corrisponde il tedesco “unter”. Intimità di mondo e cosa non è fusione - ora cominciate a pensare a queste due cose “mondo e cosa” come significato e significante e adesso vi dirò perché non è una fusione fra le due cose, pensate a De Saussure, L’intimità di mondo e cosa regna soltanto dove mondo e cosa nettamente si distinguono e restano distinti, nella linea che è a mezzo tra i due, nel fra mezzo di mondo e cosa, nel loro “inter”, questo “unter, domina lo stacco. ora adesso non so se è già il caso di dire qua, ecco qui comincia con la questione della “differenza”: L’intimità di mondo e cosa è nello stacco, “Schied” “del frammezzo” e nella “dif-ferenza” “Unter Schied”, il termine “differenza” è qui sottratto all’uso corrente e consueto non indica un concetto generico nella cui area rientrino molteplici specie di differenza, la “dif-ferenza” di cui qui si parla esiste solo come quest’una e unica, la dif-ferenza regge, non però con essa identificandosi, quella linea mediana nel modo e nella relazione alla quale, e grazie alla quale, mondo e cose trovano la loro unità, l’intimità della dif-ferenza è l’elemento unificante della diafora, di ciò che differenziando porta e compone, la dif-ferenza porta il mondo al suo esser mondo, porta le cose al suo esser cose, portandoli a compimento li porta l’un verso l’altro. Il termine “dif-ferenza” non indica per ciò più una distinzione posta tra oggetti del pensiero presentativo – Oggetti del pensiero presentativo sono quelli che il pensiero mostra, presenta – né la differenza è solo una relazione oggettivamente esistente tra mondo e cosa, che il pensiero presentativo venendovisi a imbattere possa constatare, né la differenza è comunque relazione tra mondo e cosa destinata ad essere in un ulteriore momento negata e trascesa – cioè non può togliersi – la differenza di mondo e cosa fa che le cose emergano come quelle che generano il mondo, fa che il mondo emerga come quello che consente le cose. La dif-ferenza è la dimensione in quanto misura nella sua interezza facendo essere nella sua propria essenza lo spazio di mondo e cosa, la differenza come linea mediana di mondo e cose rappresenta generandola la misura in cui mondo e cosa realizzano la loro essenza, nel nominare che chiama “cosa” e “mondo” quel che è propriamente nominato è la dif-ferenza. A questo punto è ovvio che ciascuno di voi ha pensato necessariamente a Derrida, il quale Derrida ha preso a man bassa da Heidegger ma tra breve sarà ancora più evidente, lui, Derrida ha preso Heidegger e lo ha riletto con De Saussure dice: “Questo chiamare” ricordate prima ha detto del chiamare: Questo chiamare è l’essenza del parlare, la dif-ferenza è la chiamata dalla quale soltanto ogni “chiamare” è esso stesso chiamato, alla quale pertanto ogni possibile “chiamare” appartiene. // Il linguaggio parla in quanto suono nella “quiete” (adesso dirà che cosa intende) la quiete acquieta, (ovviamente) portando mondo e cose alla loro essenza, il fondare e comporre mondo e cose nel modo dell’acquietamento è l’evento della dif-ferenza, il linguaggio, il suono della quiete è in quanto “la dif-ferenza”, è come farsi evento, l’essere del linguaggio è l’evenire della dif-ferenza. Il suono della quiete non è nulla di umano, certo l’uomo è nella sua essenza parlante, il termine “parlante” significa qui che emerge ed è fatto se stesso dal parlare del linguaggio. (lui è preciso su questo cioè non è l’uomo che parla, è il linguaggio che parla, e il linguaggio non è un ente, non è un oggetto al pari degli altri, infatti quando la logica parla di “linguaggio oggetto” compie un abominio per Heidegger, perché il linguaggio non è un oggetto, mai può essere oggetto dunque: In forza di tale evenire l’uomo nell’atto che è dalla lingua portato a se stesso, alla sua propria essenza continua ad appartenere all’essenza del linguaggio, al suono della quiete (cioè è l’uomo che appartiene all’essenza del linguaggio non viceversa) tale evento (il suono della quiete) si realizza in quanto l’essenza del linguaggio (il suono della quiete) si avvale del parlare dei mortali per essere dai mortali percepita come appunto “suono della quiete”, solo in quanto  4 gli uomini rientrano nel dominio del suono della quiete, i mortali sono a loro modo capaci di un parlare attuantesi in suoni. Il parlare dei mortali è un “nominante chiamare”, (questo è fondamentale in Heidegger lo ripeto “il parlare è un nominante chiamare”) è invito alle cose e al mondo farsi presso muovendo dalla semplicità della differenza. La pura del parlare mortale è la parola della poesia, l’autentica poesia non è mai un modo più elevato della lingua quotidiana vero è piuttosto il contrario, che cioè il parlare quotidiano è una poesia dimenticata come logorata nella quale a stento è dato ancora percepire il suono di un autentico chiamare. Ecco la questione che sta ponendo è esattamente quella che pone Derrida, questo suono, questo suono silenzioso che non si sente ma che tuttavia è ciò che costituisce la condizione della parola che chiama, beh è ciò che Derrida ha elaborato come “differance”, lui usa per indicare questo suono che non c’è, usa questo esempio, lui scrive in francese “difference” in francese si scrive così, però a “difference” sostituisce alla e una a, scrivendo quindi “differance” che in francese è scorretto perché si scrive “difference”, però dice anche cambiando la e con la a, il suono della parola in francese “differance” non cambia, è esattamente lo stesso cioè questa e non si sente, che metta la e o metta la a, è uguale, non si sente, cioè quella cosa che lui chiama la “differance” è esattamente questo suono muto, che tuttavia è quella cosa che consente alla parola di essere tale e cioè di, mettiamola così, lui, forse dovrei aggiungere qualcosa, lui, Derrida muove a queste considerazioni partendo da De Saussure, dal segno di De Saussure “significante/significato” e quindi ciò che dice è che questa barra è quella che divide il significante dal significato ma è quella che compone il segno, senza questa barra che distingue il significante dal significato il segno non c’è, però questa barra si scrive, si mette il trattino, come faceva De Saussure, ma non c’è, non suona né nel significante né nel significato ecco questa barra è la “dif-ferance”, è quella cosa che non compare, che non ha suono però è la condizione perché il segno sia segno, cioè perché la parola sia la parola è indeterminabile cioè questo suono di cui parla qui Heidegger il “suono della quiete” è questo suono, senza questo “cosa e mondo”, adesso la dico in modo molto rozzo ma si sovrapporrebbero l’uno altro, l’ente, cesserebbe di essere tale perché l’ente è tale perché inserito all’interno del mondo, e il mondo è tale perché esiste un ente che lo pone in essere, esattamente come il significante e il significato. Heidegger non parla né di significante né di significato, non gliene importa assolutamente nulla, per lui il mondo è l’essere, è l’esserci “Dasein”. Ciò che a noi interessa invece è intendere come anche in Heidegger si siano poste delle questioni molto precise intorno al linguaggio, soprattutto rispetto al fatto che il linguaggio non è un oggetto, non è una proprietà dell’uomo, non è una sua facoltà tra altre, ma è il linguaggio che parla, ricordate la famosa asserzione di Lacan quando dice “ça parle” cioè qualcosa parla, viene da qui ovviamente, è stato Heidegger a porre la questione in termini precisi, tali per cui ha preso atto del fatto che il linguaggio non è una proprietà, è questo che dice, non è una proprietà, non è un ente, non è qualcosa di cui gli umani dispongano ma è il linguaggio che parla. Che significa questo per quanto ci riguarda? Significa una cosa importante: è il linguaggio a parlare e a costruire l’uomo, e anche le cose, perché Heidegger dice che le chiama, le chiama alla presenza, però di fatto il linguaggio è quella struttura, come andiamo dicendo da tempo, senza la quale non sarebbe possibile per gli umani il dirsi tali, non sarebbe possibile costruire nessun pensiero, nulla. Quindi lui dice che il linguaggio “chiama le cose”, sì, le chiama nel senso che le crea, le produce letteralmente, e in effetti non lo dice, forse lo usa da qualche parte, non usa la parola “costruire” ma in ogni caso ciò che sta dicendo è che il linguaggio è quella cosa che in un certo senso, adesso permettetemi di dire questa cosa che ad Heidegger non piacerebbe, ma “preesiste” l’uomo in un certo senso, “preesiste” tra virgolette, perché è come se il linguaggio fosse da sempre lì, è questo mondo all’interno del quale qualche cosa può apparire. Ed è una posizione molto interessante che per altro moltissimi hanno ripreso, tutti coloro che si sono minimamente interrogati intorno al linguaggio in qualche modo hanno tenuto conto di queste asserzioni di Heidegger, questo testo è celeberrimo “In cammino verso il linguaggio”  5 Intervento: scusi, dicendo appunto dell’uomo e del linguaggio, non dice che il linguaggio “costruisce” o “inventa” l’uomo, ma dice che il linguaggio fa qualsiasi cosa, però non è giunto a dire che l’uomo non esisterebbe in quanto uomo, se non ci fosse il linguaggio? Nel senso che mantiene l’uomo un’entità che parla, che dice delle cose, o no? Dice in modo molto chiaro: Il linguaggio fa dell’uomo quell’essere vivente che egli è in quanto uomo, Dice ancora: La parola è cenno e non segno, nel senso di semplice denotazione la logica ma anche la linguistica ha sempre considerato la parola come un segno denotante qualche cosa, un segno linguistico che denota un aggeggio qualunque, lui dice che la parola è cenno, accennare a qualche cosa, alludere a qualche cosa, riferirsi indirettamente a qualche cosa, come dire lasciare che questa cosa appaia senza una determinazione precisa, cioè senza una denotazione, la denotazione appunto “de nota”, la denotazione dice qual è il significato di una cosa, ricordate la differenza fra denotazione e connotazione? Dicendo che la parola è cenno, qua nella parte in cui fa questo dialogo ipotetico con un giapponese, è come dire che la parola indica qualche cosa ma che è al di là della parola, la parola è un cenno in quanto indica il mondo all’interno del quale questa parola è inserita, ma lo accenna, non lo determina, non lo può determinare. Intervento: lo potrebbe determinare l’esserci, “Dasein”? è l’“esserci” nel mondo che determina la cosa, ovviamente di volta in volta. Sì, Heidegger oscilla però in genere tende a considerare che l’essere non può stare senza l’ente, altre volte invece sembra dire che, così notava Severino, che l’Essere possa darsi senza l’ente, cosa abbastanza improbabile, è come dire “un significante senza un significato” che cos’è? È niente. Intervento: non ho capito: che l’ente possa esserci senza l’essere, significante senza significato? Heidegger dice che l’ente e l’essere non possono darsi l’uno senza l’altro, così come, stavo dicendo, allo stesso modo come il significante e il significato non possono darsi l’uno senza l’altro. In questo senso dicevo, allora qui si riferisce a “Sein und Zeit”: Si trattava e si tratta, era ed è, di evidenziare l’essere dell’essente, certamente non più alla maniera della metafisica ma in modo che l’essere stesso si manifesti, l’essere stesso, ciò significa la presenza di ciò che può farsi presente, (la “presenza di ciò che può farsi presente”) vale a dire la differenza dei due momenti sulla base dell’unità, è questa differenza che esige l’uomo per la sua propria essenza … che è come dire cioè l’essere stesso, a questo punto se lui lo pone come la differenza dei due momenti “cosa/mondo” sulla base dell’unità, sulla base del fatto che sono inscindibili, dice che allora: è questa differenza che esige l’uomo per la sua propria essenza cioè questa differenza tra il fatto che mondo e cosa pur essendo assolutamente inscindibili sono tuttavia separati, è da lì che l’uomo trae la sua essenza, dal fatto che il significante e il significato cioè ogni parola che dice mostra si presentifica qualche cosa, nel senso che chiama qualche cosa ma mentre chiama la cosa, chiama anche il mondo all’interno del quale questa cosa è inserita e senza il quale mondo non esisterebbe neppure … Intervento: è molto vicino alla semiotica, in fondo parla di connessioni … Tutti coloro che si sono addentrati in queste questioni, e questa è un’altra cosa che forse compare in ciò che vado dicendo ultimamente, si sono trovati a interrogare questioni molto simili, perché quando si incomincia a riflettere sul modo in cui funziona il linguaggio è inevitabile accorgersi che la parola è all’interno di qualche cosa, per Heidegger è il mondo, per Greimas non è più il mondo ma un contesto di segni all’interno del quale il nucleo segnico acquista un significato, per la psicanalisi è la parola che non si può intendere se a questa parola non vengono associati tramite associazioni libere le connessioni alle quali è agganciata. Modi di interrogare una questione che sono sì differenti però incontrano molto spesso quasi una stessa direzione da seguire, quasi gli stessi elementi Intervento: però l’uomo incontrando il mondo lo simbolizza nella parola? Può accadere certo, siamo però già verso Lacan (lo evoca) sì evocandolo può anche simbolizzarlo, se vuole, non è proibito. Ecco qui parla del “non pensato” sempre riferendosi indirettamente alla differenza perché è l’impensato, non si può pensare la differenza in quanto tale, così come non può  6 neanche dirsi perché non c’è ma pur non essendoci in quanto ente costituisce, come dice Heidegger quel suono muto che tuttavia è ciò che consente a questi due elementi la cosa e il mondo di stare distinti ma al tempo stesso uniti. Intervento: non avevo conosciuto Heidegger su questo aspetto. All’Università … Su alcune cosa ha riflettuto attentamente, soprattutto intorno al linguaggio qui incomincia a parlarne in modo abbastanza esplicito già nel suo primo scritto “Essere e tempo” poi mano a mano riflettendo intorno all’Essere si accorge che una riflessione intorno all’Essere comporta una riflessione intorno al linguaggio necessariamente. Il parlare inteso nella sua pienezza significante trascende sempre la dimensione puramente fisico sensibile del suono ovviamente il parlare non è soltanto il suono ma il linguaggio come significato fattosi suono o segno scritto è qualcosa di essenzialmente soprasensibile, qualcosa che perennemente oltrepassa il puramente sensibile, il linguaggio così inteso è per sua costitutiva natura metafisico.) È la metafisica che rappresenta, badate bene: si parla, si rappresenta, se si rappresenta si compie un’operazione metafisica. Poi sul volere sapere: Il voler sapere e l’avida richiesta di spiegazioni non portano mai a un interrogare pensante, nel volere sapere si cela già sempre la presunzione di un auto coscienza che si appella a una ragione auto fondata e alla sua razionalità, il volere sapere non vuole che si stia in ascolto di fronte a ciò che è degno di essere pensato. Intervento: è una forma di controllo Esattamente, e poi c’è la seconda parte di cui ci occuperemo nel prosieguo perché ciò che stiamo facendo è straordinariamente vicino a ciò che qui Heidegger ci sta dicendo, lui non ha dubbi sul fatto che l’uomo è quello che è, perché c’è il linguaggio, non ha nessun dubbio lo pone proprio nelle prime pagine il che comporta ovviamente delle implicazioni, perché se l’uomo non è se non nel linguaggio allora, dice lui giustamente, occorre porsi in ascolto del linguaggio, che non significa ascoltare quello che qualcuno dice, ma porsi in ascolto del linguaggio e porsi in ascolto della domanda che c’è nel linguaggio, nella chiamata che il linguaggio è, il linguaggio è un chiamare le cose e fra le cose, chiama anche l’uomo nonostante che sia l’uomo la condizione perché ci sia questa chiamata. Questa è una questione sempre presente in Heidegger, infatti è stato accusato di “umanismo”, “accusato” tra virgolette, mentre lui si è sempre difeso da questo, la sua non è una posizione esistenzialista, ha dovuto attraversare l’esistenzialismo perché l’unico esistente è l’uomo, questo accendisigari per Heidegger non esiste, c’è, ma non esiste, solo gli umani esistono cioè soltanto coloro che sono in condizioni di porre la domanda, questo aggeggio, questo accendino non fa nessuna domanda. Per Heidegger l’uomo è il portatore in un certo senso del linguaggio, forse non necessariamente l’unico, però a quanto ci consta per il momento si, e questo, sempre per Heidegger, è fondamentale perché l’uomo può trarre la verità, cioè la verità sull’essere e quindi il fatto che l’essere non sia nient’altro che l’esserci dell’uomo in quanto progetto ciascuna volta, solamente nel dialogo. Nel dialogo tra umani ovviamente, ma un dialogo dove le cose si interrogano, dove si mantiene aperta la domanda non la chicchera, il parlare per il sentito dire, il sentito dire vuole dire anche averlo letto da qualche parte, ma non averlo interrogato in modo autentico. Interrogare in modo autentico e lasciarsi interrogare dalla cosa: una qualunque cosa pone delle questioni, per esempio “che cos’è?” o quando mi trovo all’interno di un progetto su come posso utilizzare quella certa cosa, pone comunque sempre delle domande, l’uomo è sempre all’interno di questo domandare, continuamente. Questo è il domandare autentico, quello che si lascia interrogare da ciò che sta dicendo, da ciò che sta facendo, le cose che sta incontrando, non da colui che invece si precipita a dare la risposta o come dicevo prima ha la fretta di sapere tutto dimenticandosi della domanda. Nella parte successiva ci saranno delle cose molto interessanti da dire. per esempio sulla poesia che per lui è importante perché la poesia accenna, e in questo accennare lascia che la parola chiami le cose, senza fermarle, senza bloccarle, senza mortificarle ma le lascia essere, lasciar essere questo è sempre stato fondamentale per Heidegger. Heidegger prosegue: La ricerca scientifica e filosofica mira da qualche tempo (siamo nel ‘59) in modo sempre più deciso a costruire ciò che viene chiamato “metalinguaggio” (qui ce l’ha con i filosofi analitici) giustamente pertanto la filosofia scientifica che si prefigge di costruire tale super linguaggio, intende se stessa come metalinguistica. Metalinguistica suona come metafisica, non soltanto suona “come” ma è, la metalinguistica è infatti la metafisica della totale trasformazione tecnica di ogni lingua in semplice strumento interplanetario di informazione, metalinguaggio e sputnik, metalinguistica e tecnica missilistica sono la stessa cosa. // (Poi cita una poesia, una poesia di Stefan George, il titolo è Das Wort (la parola). Meraviglia di lontano o sogno io portai al lembo estremo della mia terra e attesi fino a che la grigia Norna (Norna è la dea del fato, del destino) il nome trovò nella sua fonte, meraviglia o sogno potei allora afferrare consistente e forte ed ora fiorisce e splende per tutta la marca. (la marca è un territorio di confine) Un giorno giunsi colà dopo un viaggio felice con un gioiello ricco e fine, ella cercò a lungo e al fine mi annunciò “qui nulla di eguale dorme sul fondo”, al che esso sfuggì alla mia mano e mai più la mia terra ebbe il tesoro, così io appresi triste la rinuncia: “nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca”. Un numero infinito di persone considera non di meno anche questa cosa dello sputnik un prodigio, questa “cosa” che gira vertiginosamente in uno spazio del mondo ove non è mondo, e per molti essa era ed è tutt’ora un sogno, prodigio e sogno della tecnica moderna, la quale dovrebbe essere la meno disposta a riconoscere valido il pensiero che sia la parola a procurare alle cose la loro esistenza, non le parole ma le azioni contano nei calcoli dell’ossessivo calcolare planetario, lasciamo la fretta del pensare, non è proprio anche questa “cosa” quel che essa è, e così come essa è, in nome del suo nome? Certamente. Se l’affrettare nel senso del massimo potenziamento tecnico della velocità, di quella velocità nel cui spazio temporale soltanto le macchine e i congegni moderni possono essere quello che sono, (questi marchingegni sono quelli che sono perché esiste la velocità cioè esiste il concetto di velocità) se l’affrettare dunque, non avesse parlato all’uomo e non l’avesse posto sotto il suo comando, (sta parlando della tecnica ovviamente) questo comando non avesse spinto e disposto l’uomo alla fretta, se la parola di un tale disporre non avesse parlato non ci sarebbe nessuno sputnik, nessuna cosa è là dove la parola manca. La parola del linguaggio e il suo rapporto con la cosa, con qualunque cosa che è sotto il riguardo dell’essere e il modo di essere della cosa stessa resta un enigma. (l’enigma sarebbe il rapporto fra la parola e la cosa, ecco già questo dice delle cose perché nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca, beh la dice già lunga sul fatto che se non c’è la parola, se manca la parola non c’è nessuna cosa, non c’è nulla. Questo Heidegger l’aveva inteso molto bene ovviamente, non è un caso che riprenda questa poesia di Stefan George) Dice poi: l’ultimo verso infatti appunto “nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca” in tedesco “Kein ding ist wo das Wort gebricht” l’ultimo verso potrebbe allora avere anche un significato diverso da quello di un asserzione e costatazione volta nella forma del discorso indiretto che dice “nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca”, quel che segue i due punti, dopo la parola “rinuncia” (perché ci sono due punti dopo “così io presi triste la rinuncia: nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca”) non indica ciò cui si rinuncia, ma indica l’ambito entro cui la rinuncia deve immettersi, indica il comando a consentire e accordarsi al rapporto fra parola e cosa ora esperito, (“ora” esperito nel momento in cui si dice allora si esperisce la cosa, allora c’è la cosa, e la cosa è quello che è) ciò di cui il poeta ha preso la rinuncia è la sua precedente opinione nei riguardi del rapporto fra cosa e parola, rinuncia concerne il rapporto poetico con la parola a lui fino a quel momento consueto, la rinuncia è la disposizione a un rapporto diverso, nel verso “Kein ding sei wo das Wort gebricht” “sai” non sarebbe allora sul piano grammaticale un congiuntivo (“sai” vuol dire “sia”, l’indicativo è “ist”) al posto dell’indicativo “ist” bensì una forma dell’imperativo, un ordine cui il poeta obbedisce per rispettarlo anche in futuro, nel verso “nessuna cosa “sia” laddove la parola manca”, il “sia” significherebbe allora “non considerare d’ora in poi una cosa come esistente dove la parola manca” (è un imperativo categorico” e non so per quale via mi ha evocato le parole di Parmenide “sulla via del non essere non ti ci incamminerai, ma seguirai la via dell’Essere.” Con quel “sia” inteso come  8 comando, il poeta si dispone ad accettare quella rinuncia per cui egli abbandona la convinzione che qualcosa esista, già esista, anche quando la parola manca. (Non c’è già la cosa) Che significa rinuncia? La parola “Verzicht” Rientra nell’aria del verbo “verzeihen”; una locuzione antica dice “Sich eines Dinges verzeihen”, e significa “abbandonare qualcosa” “rinunciarvi”. Zeihen corrisponde al latino dicere, all’antico alto tedesco “sagan” (il sagen del tedesco moderno), da cui “saga”. La rinuncia è un Entsagen, letteralmente un “disdire”. Nella sua rinuncia il poeta dice “no” al suo precedente rapporto con la parola, questo soltanto? No. Nell’atto in cui rifiuta qualcosa, già gli è stato destinata una chiamata alla quale egli non si sottrae più. (nella sua rinuncia, dice, rinuncia soltanto all’idea che qualcosa ci sia anche senza la parola? già questa è una bella rinuncia. Rinuncia di fronte a ciò che incontro, a pensare che questa cosa che incontro sia già lì prima che io la dica, prima della parola, non che io la dica propriamente, però aggiunge no, non è proprio così, ciò a cui non si sottrae è ciò che gli è stato destinato “una chiamata alla quale egli non si sottrae più”. Chi lo chiama a quella maniera, se non la parola?) In termini più chiari il poeta ha capito che solo la parola fa sì che la parola appaia e sia pertanto presente come quella cosa che è, la rinuncia che il poeta apprende è della natura di quella compiuta rinuncia alla quale soltanto è dato attingere ciò che da lungo nascosto è propriamente già destinato. Il poeta esperisce la sua vocazione di poeta come una chiamata alla parola, ma cosa raggiunge il poeta? Non una semplice nozione, seguendo questa chiamata, egli giunge nel rapporto della parola con la cosa, questo rapporto non è però una relazione fra la cosa da una parte e la parola dall’altra (qui c’è la parola e lì c’è l’ente e la relazione è in mezzo) la parola stessa è il rapporto che via via incorpora e trattiene in sé la cosa, in modo che essa è una cosa. Sulle prime e per lungo tratto pare che alla fonte del linguaggio (poi dirà che è la parola la fonte dell’Essere) il poeta abbia bisogno di portare soltanto le meraviglie che lo incantano (qui sta sempre commentando la poesia di George) e i sogni che lo estasiano, pare che le parole che a quella fonte egli va, con non incrinata fiducia, a cercare siano solo quelle che convengono a quanto di meraviglia e sogno ha preso corpo nella sua fantasia, prima di allora il poeta, confermato in questo dalla felice riuscita delle sue precedenti composizioni poetiche, era dell’opinione (qui sta parlando di George) dell’opinione che le cose poetiche meraviglia e sogni avessero già, da e per sé, garanzia di esistenza (come ciascuno pensa) e che tutto consistesse poi nel saper trovare per esse anche la parola atta ad esprimerle e rappresentarle. (non è questo il pensiero comune?) Sulle prime e a lungo è parso che le parole fossero come pigli che afferrano ciò che già esiste, ed è per sé esistente considerato, e ad esso danno consistenza ed espressione portandolo così a bellezza. (qui ripete ancora una parte della poesia): Qui meraviglia e sogni, là nomi che afferrano gli uni e gli altri fusi in uno e la poesia era nata, tutto fuso insieme, bastava essa a quello che è il compito del poeta dar vita a ciò che permane, perché duri e sia? Ad un certo punto giunge però Stefan, per Stefan George il momento nel quale il poetare che fino allora gli era stato consueto, quel poetare sicuro di sé viene bruscamente meno riportandogli alla mente la parola di Hölderlin, ma ciò che permane fondano i poeti, infatti un giorno il poeta arriva il viaggio per di più è stato buono e anche per questo egli è pieno di speranza, dalla dea del destino carica d’anni e chiede il nome per il gioiello ricco e fine che porta sulla mano (questo gioiello ricco e fine è la parola) solo che lei chiede il nome della parola (e questo crea qualche problema) questo non è meraviglia di lontano e neppure sogno, la dea cerca a lungo ma invano, alla fine gli annuncia “nulla d’eguale dorme qui sul fondo” (non c’è la parola per dire la parola, “nulla d’eguale” cioè nulla che sia come il gioiello ricco e fine che gli sta sulla mano) la parola capace di far essere quel gioiello che sta semplicemente lì sulla mano quello che esso è, una tale parola dovrebbe scaturire da quella sicura custodia che riposa nella quiete di un sonno profondo, soltanto una parola veniente di lì potrebbe portare e fermare il gioiello nella ricchezza e gentilezza del suo semplice essere. (Ripete le parole del poeta) “Nulla di eguale dorme qui sul fondo” a tal dire esso sfuggì alla mia mano (questo gioiello) e mai più la mia terra ebbe il tesoro. Il fine ricco gioiello che era lì sulla mano non giunge all’essere di una cosa, non diventa tesoro cioè ricchezza custodita nella poesia di quella terra, il poeta non precisa la natura del gioiello che non poté divenire tesoro della sua terra ma che gli donò tuttavia l’esperienza del  9 linguaggio, l’occasione di apprendere quella rinuncia nella quale l’abdicazione corrisponde, da parte del rapporto fra parola e cosa, l’assenso a un disvelamento, l’oggetto ricco e fine è cosa diversa dalla meraviglia di lontano oppure sogno, se poi la parola canta il cammino poetico proposto proprio di Stefan George è lecito pensare che nel gioiello sia adombrata la delicata ricchezza della semplicità che nell’ultimo periodo della sua attività si presenta al poeta come ciò che deve essere detto “la parola della parola”. Qui Heidegger affronta una questione, poi diremo mano a mano, e se la porta appresso perché ovviamente non ha soluzione cioè quella parola che è all’origine della parola, e la Norna, la dea del destino, del fato glielo dice qui “sul fondo non giace nulla di simile”, non c’è, non c’è il fine, il limite del linguaggio, il punto da cui comincia. Certo che non c’è, Heidegger poi lo allude, lo allude nel dire autentico del poeta e il dire autentico del poeta è quello che ovviamente nel pensiero di Heidegger è quello che lascia dire l’Essere, lo lascia apparire, lo disvela, l’ἀλήθεια. Però ciò che qui il poeta cerca di fatto è la parola della parola, cioè l’essenza propriamente della parola, ma qui si scontra contro un qualche cosa che non c’è perché è la parola che dà l’essenza alle cose, dà l’Essere alle cose, e quindi ci vorrebbe un altro Essere che dia Essere all’Essere della parola, la cosa non avrebbe più senso. Heidegger lo pone come una sorta di enigma, però di fatto non possiamo parlare di enigma quanto piuttosto del tentativo di dare anche alla parola o meglio di trasformare la parola in ente, lui dirà tra un po’ che la parola non è un ente al pari di qualunque altro, è un'altra cosa, è ciò che da l’accesso all’ente, infatti lo dice utilizzando la poesia “nulla è là dove la parola manca”, se nulla è là dove la parola manca è ovvio che anche la parola potrebbe essere intesa come ente, ma a questo punto la cosa non funziona più. L’apparire di qualche cosa che è il λόγος, lo vedremo più avanti, λόγος non inteso come il discorso, il racconto, la ragione, nulla di tutto ciò, il λόγος è una delle forme dell’Essere per Heidegger, è questo logos che consente l’apertura cioè il linguaggio consente l’aprirsi della parola che nomina qualche cosa, nel momento in cui nomina qualche cosa questa cosa è. C’è. Intervento: la parola è ciò che differenzia l’istinto dalla pulsione. Intervento: l’uomo, diciamo, arrivando a possedere la parola nominando gli oggetti, qualificandosi come possessore della parola, identificandosi come ciò che padroneggia la realtà, come il bambino che si distacca dall’uniforme primordiale sia come essere sociale, essere sociale organizza la società che si differenzia dal gruppo indistinto dall’orda primitiva, o comunque dai gruppi degli animali. Intervento: dal branco degli animali, esattamente grazie, ecco possedendo la parola ecco io la intenderei così. Heidegger ha un’opinione differente, perché dice: “quando poniamo una domanda al linguaggio, una domanda sulla sua essenza, già del linguaggio deve esserci stato fatto dono, non possiamo chiederci qualcosa sul linguaggio se già non possediamo il linguaggio, se vogliamo porre una domanda sull’essenza, sull’essenza cioè del linguaggio allora anche del significato di “essenza” ci deve essere già stato fatto dono, domanda “a” e domanda “su” presuppongono qui, come sempre, che ciò cui e su cui va la domanda abbia già fatto giungere la parola sollecitatrice, ogni posizione di domanda è possibile solo in quanto ciò che si fa problema ha già iniziato a parlare e a dire di se stesso. // (cita ancora la frase: nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca) Accenna al rapporto tra parola e cosa prospettando il modo che la parola stessa risulti il rapporto, in quanto essa trae all’essere (la parola) e mantiene nell’essere ogni cosa (qualunque essa sia), senza la parola che si identifica con la forza del rapporto, il complesso delle cose, il mondo, sprofonda nel buio insieme all’io che porta all’estremo lembo della propria terra, alla fonte dei nomi ciò che ha incontrato di meraviglia e di sogno. Perché quel che ci interessa è un’esperienza, un essere in cammino, noi oggi in questa lezione che segna il passaggio tra la prima e la terza conferenza (in genere la seconda fa questo, il passaggio fra la prima e la terza) rifletteremo sul cammino, è necessaria al riguardo un’osservazione preliminare dato che la maggior parte di loro si occupa in prevalenza di ricerca scientifica, (il pubblico che aveva)nelle scienze la via al sapere va sotto il nome di metodo, “metodo” “μετα ὁδός” “attraverso il cammino” “lungo il cammino”, il metodo non è specie nella scienza moderna un puro strumento al servizio della scienza  10 anzi al contrario è il metodo che ha assunto a proprio servizio la scienza. Questo fatto è stato visto in tutta la sua portata per la prima volta da Nietzsche, che così ne parla nelle annotazioni che seguono, queste fanno parte del corpus degli inediti pubblicato postumo dal titolo “Der Wille zur Macht” “La volontà di potenza”. La prima dice “ciò che caratterizza il nostro XIX secolo non è la vittoria della scienza ma la vittoria del metodo scientifico sulla scienza”. L’altra notazione incomincia con la proposizione “Le idee più importanti furono trovate per ultime, ma le idee più importanti sono i metodi” in realtà anche Nietzsche è giunto assai tardi a scoprire questo rapporto tra metodo e scienza e precisamente l’ultimo anno della sua lucidità mentale nel 1888 a Torino. Nelle scienze non solo il tema viene posto dal metodo ma viene immesso nel metodo e vi resta sottoposto, la corsa folle, che oggi trascina le scienze verso mete che esse stesse ignorano, ha la sua forza propulsiva nel potenziamento e nel progressivo assoggettamento alla tecnica del metodo e delle possibilità a questo intrinseche, nel metodo è tutta la potenza del sapere, il tema rientra nel metodo. Bene vi lascio riflettere su queste questioni, mercoledì prossimo riprendiamo questo testo. Vi rileggo la poesia di Stefan George perché la riprende si chiama “La parola”, Das Wort: Meraviglia di lontano o sogno io portai al lembo estremo della mia terra e attesi fino a che la grigia Norna il nome trovò nella sua fonte, meraviglia o sogno potei allora afferrare consistente e forte ed ora fiorisce e splende per tutta la marca. Un giorno giunsi colà dopo viaggio felice con un gioiello ricco e fine, ella cercò a lungo e alfine mi annunciò “qui nulla d’eguale dorme sul fondo”. Al che esso sfuggì alla mia mano e mai più la mia terra ebbe il tesoro, così io appresi triste la rinuncia “nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca”. C’è da dire qui che la questione che sta ponendo questa poesia è interessante perché di fatto sta chiedendo alla Norna di fornirgli, dicevamo l’altra volta, la parola della parola, e cioè un qualche cosa che è fuori della parola e che dovrebbe garantire l’essere della parola. Ovviamente cercare la parola fuori dalla parola è un problema, tant’è che la Norna, saggia, dice “qui nulla d’eguale dorme sul fondo” e allora lui ha appreso la rinuncia: non troverà mai qualche cosa che da fuori della parola possa garantire la parola. Intervento: sarebbe il significato del significato? Non esattamente, perché il significato del significato è ancora un altro significato, quindi un altro termine, un altro elemento linguistico, qui cerca invece proprio la garanzia, cioè il qualche cosa che è fuori dal linguaggio e che dia alla parola la sua consistenza. “Nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca” accenna al rapporto tra parola e cosa, prospettandolo in modo che la parola stessa risulti il rapporto, in quanto essa trae all’essere e mantiene nell’essere ogni cosa, qualunque essa sia. // Infatti fra le primissime cose cui diede voce il pensiero occidentale rientra il rapporto tra cosa e parola e precisamente nella figura del rapporto tra essere e dire, questo rapporto sorprende il pensiero in modo così subitaneo e sconvolgente da dirsi in una sola parola, esso suona “λόγος”, ma ancora più sconcertante è per noi il fatto che in tutto questo non si fa un’esperienza pensante del linguaggio, nel senso cioè che il linguaggio stesso in base a quel rapporto giunga propriamente a dirsi. Cioè sta dicendo che il linguaggio non “si dice” nel senso che non c’è modo di aggirare il linguaggio, di uscire dal linguaggio e poi di lì parlare del linguaggio sapendo di che cosa si sta parlando, non c’è uscita dal linguaggio Se sempre il linguaggio ricusa, in questo senso, la sua essenza (cioè non dice mai che cosa realmente è, perché appunto dovrebbe uscire fuori dalla parola) allora questo rifiuto fa parte dell’essenza del linguaggio (il rifiuto della Norna). Il linguaggio non solo si trattiene così in se stesso nel nostro corrente parlarlo, ma trattenendosi esso in sé, con la sua origine nega la sua essenza a quel pensiero presentativo nel quale comunemente ci muoviamo, per questo non possiamo nemmeno più dire che l’essenza del linguaggio sia il linguaggio dell’essenza (come diceva prima) a meno che la parola “linguaggio” non indichi nel secondo caso qualcosa d’altro che cioè quel rifiuto dell’essenza del linguaggio a dirsi, proprio esso, parla. (In altri termini sta dicendo che il linguaggio non dice se  11 stesso, si trattiene dal dire di se stesso nell’accezione che indicavo prima, e cioè come se volesse parlare da fuori il linguaggio per dire che cos’è esattamente il linguaggio, si trattiene dal fare questo. Heidegger dice che non possiamo nemmeno più dire che l’“essenza del linguaggio sia il linguaggio dell’essenza” come diceva prima e cioè che l’essenza del linguaggio, ciò che è più proprio al linguaggio è il linguaggio dell’essenza, il linguaggio dell’essenza è quel linguaggio che parla di ciò che è proprio, a meno che, dice, questo linguaggio non lo si intenda nelle due cose in modo differente e cioè nel secondo caso intendendo che è proprio lui che parla e cioè il linguaggio dell’essenza è ciò che parla continuamente, il linguaggio dell’essenza vale a dire sarebbe, per dirla con Heidegger, il “dire originario”, quel dire cioè che muove nel momento in cui è qualcosa, qualcosa appare e questo dire lascia che ciò che appare interroghi, ciò che si dice, a questo punto, il “λόγος” ciò che fa esistere le cose, a questo punto è lui, è soltanto lui che parla. Qui c’è adesso forse qualcosa che è ancora più chiaro, dice:) “Nessuna cosa è (sia) dove la parola manca”. Così suona la rinuncia del poeta e noi abbiamo aggiunto che qui viene in evidenza il rapporto fra cosa e parola. (Il rapporto tra cosa e parola è importante perché è ciò che la metafisica ha sempre cercato di stabilire con certezza, lì c’è la parola e lì c’è la cosa, però è un problema come dicevamo la volta scorsa, è la questione tipica della metafisica e cioè il problema del “terzo uomo” come diceva già Aristotele, cioè c’è un terzo elemento che deve fare da tramite tra i due, il problema è che questo terzo elemento che deve consentire il bloccarsi di questa relazione tra cosa e parola, anziché compiere questo rinvia la cosa all’infinito, perché poi dopo il “terzo uomo” c’è il quarto, c’è il quinto c’è il sesto e così via all’infinito e quindi non raggiungerà mai la cosa): Abbiamo anche detto che “cosa” (lui lo mette tra virgolette) indica qui ogni possibile essente quale ne sia il modo d’essere. (cioè qualunque cosa) Abbiamo detto ancora riguardo alla parola, che questa non solo sta in rapporto con la cosa ma porta la cosa che di volta in volta nomina, la cosa in quanto essente che è e tale, “è”(tra virgolette) in questo reggendola, trattenendola, dandole per così dire il sostentamento a essere cosa, questo sarebbe il parlare autentico (la parola che fa essere ciò che dice, nel momento in cui dice le cose è in quel momento che esistono, che sono quello che sono. È questo che sta dicendo. Conseguentemente abbiamo detto che la parola non si limita ad essere in rapporto con la cosa ma che la parola stessa è ciò che porta e serba la cosa come cosa. (che è ancora di più che “la parola stessa è la cosa”, perché la parola è ciò che porta e “mantiene” e fa perdurare la cosa in quanto cosa, dice che la “parola in quanto ciò che porta e serba è il rapporto stesso”. Qui badate bene che dice “è il rapporto stesso” anzi l’ha già detto varie volte, come dire che questo rapporto tra parola e cosa è la parola stessa, quindi non c’è più la parola e la cosa ma c’è una relazione tra parola e cosa, nel senso che la parola rende la cosa quella che è, e solo la parola può farlo, cioè il λόγος, e questo è la parola. Qui si potrebbe anche fare un accenno alla questione della metafisica, così come trascorre da Platone fino a Heidegger, non è altro che lo spostare una cosa presente a una cosa che presente non è, e che deve dare il senso, il significato a ciò che è presente, da qui tutte le distinzioni dalle più antiche alle più recenti: “sensibile – ultrasensibile”, “immanente – trascendente”, “significante – significato”, “enunciazione – enunciato”, l’ultimo in ordine di tempo: “conscio – inconscio”. Per questo dico che tutta questa struttura è metafisica, è metafisica sempre in questa accezione ovviamente, cioè ciò che questo significato di “metafisica” che, come dicevo, trascorre da Platone fino ad Heidegger, indica che ciascuna volta in cui qualche cosa deve la sua esistenza, la sua essenza, il suo significato, a qualche cos’altro, questa è una struttura metafisica. Che ha degli effetti ovviamente, perché comporta la supposizione che una certa cosa sia quello che è in base a quell’altra, quindi quell’altra dà alla prima il suo significato, lo ferma, lo blocca e che quindi questo secondo elemento costituisca l’essenza, potremmo quasi dire, del primo, bloccandolo nel significato, ciò che potrebbe, dico “potrebbe”, consentire un passo fuori, ammesso che sia possibile, dalla metafisica. È da considerare che invece ciò che dà il significato al primo elemento costituisca anche questo un elemento che trae il proprio significato da altro, poi da altro, poi da altro ancora e così via all’infinito, a questo punto non c’è la possibilità di bloccare un significato  12 ovviamente, ma questo significato, come ci dice la semiotica, non è altro che un rinvio continuo, infatti, a quella serie di contrapposizioni potremmo anche aggiungere quella di Greimas, cioè i sememi danno un senso ai semi nucleari ché da solo, di per sé, il sema nucleare non significa niente. Ora è chiaro che è il linguaggio che è strutturato così, per questo da tempo sto dicendo che la metafisica illustra il modo in cui il linguaggio funziona, né più né meno, per cui non hanno neanche tutti i torti i metafisici a dire che non c’è uscita dalla metafisica. Posta in questi termini in effetti non c’è uscita dalla metafisica, e neanche attraverso la via immaginata da Heidegger ovviamente): La “parola per la parola” non è dato trovarla là dove il destino dona il linguaggio (cioè se c’è il linguaggio allora la parola per la parola non c’è, una parola che dica la parola in modo definitivo, l’ultima parola sulla parola, non c’è, non si trova perché c’è il linguaggio, il linguaggio che nomina e fa essere, quindi non c’è), linguaggio che nomina e fa essere per l’essente, non c’è la parola che dica l’essenza del linguaggio, perché questa sia e come essente splenda e fiorisca la parola per la parola un tesoro certamente ma un tesoro non conquistabile per la terra del poeta, e per il pensiero? Può il pensiero? Quando il pensiero cerca di meditare la parola poetica (cioè la parola autentica per Heidegger) questo si rivela: la parola, il dire non ha essere. Il nostro modo corrente di concepire si ribella quando gli si propone un pensiero così audace. Scritte o parlate ognuno pur vede e sente delle parole, esse sono. Possono essere come cose, realtà afferrabili dai nostri sensi, basta solo per far l’esempio più banale aprire un dizionario è pieno di “cose” stampate, certamente puri vocaboli, non una sola parola, poiché la parola grazie alla quale i vocaboli si fanno parola, un dizionario non è in grado né di captarla né di custodirla, dove dobbiamo andare a cercare la parola? dove il dire? Dall’esperienza poetica della parola ci viene un cenno che può essere di grande aiuto: la parola non è cosa, nulla di essente, invece noi abbiamo cognizione delle cose quando per esse c’è a disposizione la parola allora la cosa è. Ma qual è la natura di questo “è”, “la cosa è”? e questo “è” è anch’esso una cosa sovrapposta a un’altra, messale su come un cappuccio, noi non troviamo mai questo “è” come cosa sopra altra cosa, per questo “è” la situazione è la stessa che per la parola, questo “è” non fa parte delle cose che sono più di quanto non lo faccia la parola. (sta dicendo che la parola non è, nel senso dell’Essere, cioè come lo intende la filosofia comunemente, e cioè come ente, qui allude al fatto che la parola non sia determinabile, così come lo è per esempio un vocabolo, un lessema, quindi intende con parola ovviamente un’altra cosa.) Improvvisamente ci risvegliamo dalla sonnolenza di un pensare frettoloso, e scorgiamo qualcosa di diverso in ciò che l’esperienza del linguaggio dice, riguardo alla parola gioca il rapporto fra questo “è” che per sé non è, e la parola che si trova nella stessa situazione che cioè non è nulla che sia, (qui sta cercando di complicare le cose, adesso vediamo se) né l’“è” nella parola hanno l’essenza della cosa, (l’abbiamo detto prima: non sono enti) l’Essere né ha il rapporto con l’“è” la parola al quale è affidato il compito di concedere via, via un “è”, (sta dicendo che né questo è, quando diciamo che “la parola è qualcosa”, questo “è” per lui costituisce un problema, diciamo “la parola è”, “è” cosa? infatti né l’“è” né la parola in questa frase hanno l’essenza della cosa, cioè non hanno l’Essere) né ha (soggetto l’Essere) il rapporto fra l’“è” e la parola, ciò non di meno, né l’“è”, né la parola e il dire di questa, possono venire cacciati nel vuoto del niente (non sono niente, qualcosa pur sono) Che indica l’esperienza poetica della parola quando il pensiero riflette su di essa? Essa rimanda a quel degno d’essere pensato, pensare il quale si pone al pensiero fino dai tempi più antichi e anche se in modo velato come suo proprio compito, esso rimanda a quello di cui in tedesco può dirsi “es gibt senza che possa dirsi “ist” cioè è, “gibt” “esso dà” “si offre”, di ciò di cui può dirsi “est gibt” fa parte anche la parola (adesso incomincia a intravedersi che cosa intende con quello che sta dicendo “la parola non è, propriamente, ma è ciò che si dà, ciò che si offre”.)forse non solo anche, ma prima di ogni altra cosa, in modo tale che nella parola e nella sua essenza si cela quello che “gibt” appunto “dà”, nella parola si cela quello che essa stessa da. Della parola pensando con rigore non dovremmo mai dire “es ist” cioè “essa è” ma “es gibt”, ciò non nel senso di quando si dice “es gibt Worte” “qualcosa dà la parola” ma nel senso che la parola stessa dà, non è qualcosa che dà la parola ma è la parola che dà, la parola: la datrice. Ma che dà la parola?  13 secondo l’esperienza poetica e la tradizione più antica del pensiero la parola dà: l’Essere (ecco perché prima diceva che la parola non è l’Essere, la parola dà l’Essere) Ma se così stanno le cose allora in quel “es, das gibt” “esso, il dare” noi dovremmo pensando cercare la parola come ciò stesso che dà e mai è dato. La parola “es gibt” si trova in tedesco usata in molteplici modi, si dice per esempio “es gibt an der sonningen Halde Erdbeeren” “ci sono fragole sul pendio soleggiato”, “là ci sono le fragole”, nella nostra riflessione “es gibt” è usato diversamente non “des gibt …” “si dà la parola” ma “es das Word gibt…” cioè “essa la parola dà”. Quando Freud dice “Wo es war, soll Ich werden” questo “es” può essere inteso benissimo come “qualcosa” “là dove qualcosa era occorre che io avvenga” è una delle traduzioni che sono state fatte di questa frase. Così dilegua completamente lo spettro dell’“es” davanti al quale molti e a ragione trovano sconcerto, ma ciò che è degno di essere pensato resta, si fa anzi evidente, questa realtà semplice e inafferrabile che noi indichiamo con l’espressione “es, das word, gibt” si rivela come ciò che propriamente è degno di essere pensato e cioè che “essa” la parola da, per la determinazione di questo mancano ancora da per tutto i termini di misura forse il poeta li conosce ma il suo poetare ha appreso la rinuncia e tuttavia con la rinuncia nulla ha perduto (la rinuncia era quella del poeta di avere quella parola che dice la parola stessa, a questo rinuncia perché la Norna dice che non ce l’ha) il gioiello però gli sfugge certamente ma sfugge nella forma comportata dall’esser per esso negata la parola (questo gioiello sfugge, ma sfugge in che senso? Sfugge perché gli sfugge la parola per dirlo) Negare è trattenere ma qui appunto si rivela l’aspetto sorprendente del potere proprio della parola, il gioiello (che è la parola) non si dissolve affatto nell’inerte insignificanza del niente, (qui si riferisce a quando prima diceva, che la parola non è Essere, non ha l’Essere) la parola non sprofonda nella banale incapacità di dire (non è che la parola non può dirsi perché non siamo capaci a dirla, dice:) no, il poeta non abdica alla parola tuttavia il gioiello si sottrae nel mistero che riempie di stupore … per questo il poeta come dicono i versi introduttivi al canto medita anche più di prima, compone ancora, compone cioè un dire e in forma anche diversa da quella di prima. (ecco qui dicendo che non è la parola che si dà, ma è la parola che dà, ovviamente pone la parola come già aveva fatto in precedenza come λόγος in quanto Essere, nell’accezione che indica Heidegger ovviamente, cioè di “Dasein” “esserci”) Se però l’affinità tra poetare e pensare è quella del dire, allora siamo portati a supporre che l’evento domini come quel dire originario con il quale il linguaggio ci dice della sua essenza, il suo dire non si perde nel vuoto esso ha già sempre raggiunto il segno, che altro è questo segno se non l’uomo? Che l’uomo è uomo solo se ha risposto affermativamente alla parola del linguaggio, se è assunto nel linguaggio perché lo parli (ovviamente, questo dicevo è importante perché la presenza dell’uomo è ciò che fa, per Heidegger, la possibilità stessa dell’esserci, “esserci” riguarda l’esistente, l’esistente è l’uomo. Per questo si trova a dire molto spesso che l’Essere è il dialogo da uomo a uomo, perché la parola abita l’uomo. Anche le nuove teorie cioè i metodi della misurazione dello spazio e del tempo, la teoria della relatività e dei quanti e la fisica nucleare, non hanno cambiato in nulla il carattere parametrico di spazio e tempo (in tutte queste discipline i concetti di spazio e tempo sono sempre esattamente gli stessi, quelli per esempio di Anassagora) e nemmeno sono in grado di produrre un simile cambiamento, se ne fossero capaci ne verrebbe a crollare l’intero apparato della moderna scienza tecnica della natura. (perché non avrebbe più questi parametri sui quali è stata costruita ogni cosa) Tutto parla contro, in primo luogo la caccia alla formula fisica capace di interpretare il cosmo in termini matematici, la famosa teoria del “Tutto”, sennonché ciò che spinge al perseguimento affannoso di tale formula non è primariamente la passione personale dei ricercatori, ché questi si trovano ad essere quel che sono in forza di un esigenza prepotente che coinvolge e domina il pensiero moderno nella sua globalità, fisica e responsabilità, “bello!” e nella difficile situazione di oggi importante, ma resta una partita doppia dietro la quale si cela un passivo che non può essere sanato né da parte della scienza, né da parte della morale, sempre poi che sanabile sia. (Naturalmente poi qual è questo passivo che rimane? La dico così brutalmente “è il non sapere ciò che stanno facendo”, con tutto ciò che questo comporta ovviamente, poi ecco l’ultimo capitoletto si chiama “la parola”. Qui fa delle domande, tre domande): (Ripete di nuovo il verso  14 finale “Nessuna cosa è (sia) dove la parola manca) Si è tentati di trasformare il verso finale in un’asserzione “Nessuna cosa è dove la parola manca” dove qualcosa “es gebrit” “manca” cioè c’è una frattura, un danno, “recar danno a una cosa” vuol dire sottrarle qualcosa, farle mancare qualcosa, non c’è cosa dove la parola manca, solo quando c’è la parola per dirla la cosa è, (allora ecco le tre domande): 1) Che è la parola per avere tale potere? 2) Che è la cosa per avere bisogno della parola per essere? 3) Che significa qui “essere”, dal momento che appare come un dono conferito alla cosa dalla parola? (qui riassume in una parola tutto ciò che ha detto nel libro praticamente. Cioè l’Essere stesso appare come “un dono conferito alla cosa dalla parola”, qui è chiarissimo … Intervento: risponde alle domande poi, perché qui è un po’ antropocentrico? Si può dire anche di Heidegger che sia antropocentrico, anche se a lui non sarebbe piaciuto, infatti per lui l’uomo è oggetto di interesse, cioè l’esistenzialismo, solo perché si accorge che l’esistenza dell’uomo è la condizione per potere fare un discorso sull’Essere, cioè dice che non c’è l’Essere senza l’uomo, cioè senza colui che parla, senza colui che fa essere le cose.) Il primo verso della poesia dà la risposta “meraviglia di lontano o sogno” “nomi” per quello di cui al poeta giunge notizia di lontano come di cosa meravigliosa o per quello che lo visita nel sogno, l’uno e l’altro sono considerati dal poeta senza ombra di dubbio come realtà reali, come qualcosa che è, realtà che egli tuttavia non vuole tenere per sé ma vuole rappresentare, per questo occorrono i nomi. Tali nomi sono parole per mezzo delle quali ciò che già è e per tale è tenuto, assume così consistente concretezza che da quel momento splende e fiorisce e così facendo esercita tutta la regione e il dominio che è proprio della bellezza … i “nomi” sono le parole che rappresentano (Qui si può intendere in due modi, perché “i nomi sono le parole che rappresentano” può intendersi sia in questo modo e cioè che i nomi sono parole che rappresentano qualche cos’altro, ma anche che “i nomi rappresentano altre parole”. I nomi sono le parole che rappresentano parole rappresentanti altre cose, oppure i nomi sono le parole che rappresentano, sono le parole stesse che rappresentano i nomi,) Essi (i nomi) propongono all’immaginazione ciò che già è, grazie alla loro virtù rappresentativa i nomi testimoniano il loro decisivo dominio sulle cose, è l’esigenza stessa dei nomi che porta il poeta a poetare, per raggiungerli egli deve prima giungere con i viaggi là dove … Sono due casi, nel primo caso potremmo dire che “nomina sunt consequentia rerum” nel secondo “nomina non sunt consequentia rerum” “i nomi sono la conseguenza delle cose” nel secondo “i nomi non sono la conseguenza delle cose”. I nomi che la fonte custodisce (qui si riferisce sempre alla poesia di George) sono come qualcosa che dorme, che ha bisogno solo di essere destato per servire come rappresentazione delle cose, nomi e parole sono come un solido patrimonio finalizzato alle cose, che poi viene utilizzato per rappresentarle, sennonché la fonte, alla quale fino a quel momento il dire poetico ha attinto le parole cioè i nomi che rappresentano la realtà, non dona più nulla. Quale esperienza fa qui il poeta? Soltanto quella che quando si tratta del gioiello portato sulla mano il nome non si trova? (il gioiello è sempre la parola) soltanto quella che ora il gioiello deve sì restare senza nome, ma può tuttavia restare sulla mano del poeta? No, altro accade e ha dello sconcertante, ma sconcertante non è né il fatto che manca il nome, né il fatto che il gioiello scompare con il mancare della parola, è quindi la parola che trattiene il gioiello nel suo essere presente: (cioè la parola trattiene se stessa) la parola, nient’altro che la parola lo prende e lo porta a tale esser presente e in questo lo serba, la parola presenta improvvisamente un altro più alto potere, non è più solo la presa sulla realtà, come presenza già colta dall’immaginazione, quella presa che consiste nel dare un nome, non è soltanto mezzo per rappresentare ciò che sta dinnanzi, al contrario (qui veniamo alla questione) è la parola che conferisce la presenza cioè l’Essere, nel quale qualcosa si manifesta come essente, quest’altro potere della parola trae su di sé l’attenzione del poeta in modo brusco e improvviso, al tempo stesso però la parola che ha quel potere manca, perciò il gioiello dilegua, non per questo si dissolve nel nulla, resta un tesoro che poi il poeta non potrà mai custodire nella sua terra, (che cosa si dilegua, che cosa manca? Qui non siamo nella questione della “mancanza a essere”, siamo al fatto che ciò che manca è quella parola che da fuori del linguaggio finalmente dica che cos’è veramente la parola. Il nome che si dà alla parola è un’altra parola, non è qualcosa che da fuori  15 dovrebbe garantire che sia esattamente quella cosa. E qui insiste sul fatto che la parola fa sì che la cosa sia, cosa tutt’altro che irrilevante) Il tesoro e la terra del poeta mai giunge a possedere, è la parola per l’essenza del linguaggio, la potenza e la vita della parola scorta d’improvviso (qual è la potenza della parola? il fatto di fare essere le cose) il suo essere e operare vorrebbe pervenire alla parola, alla sua propria parola ma la parola, per l’essenza della parola, non viene concessa. La parola che dica che cosa veramente è, è questo che non viene concesso, è questo che manca, in questo senso diceva. L’ultimo capitoletto “In cammino verso il linguaggio” che poi dà il nome al testo. Ecco qui parla dell’¡λήθεια: il testo di Aristotele evidenzia con un dire chiaro e sobrio quella classica struttura in cui si cela l’essenza del linguaggio inteso come parlare, le lettere indicano i suoni, i suoni indicano le affezioni dell’anima, le affezioni indicano le cose che colpiscono l’anima, il “mostrare” “das Zeigen” è quello che costituisce e regge l’intera impalcatura, in modo vario, velando e disvelando, esso il mostrare, porta qualcosa ad apparire, fa che ciò che appare sia avvertito e ciò che viene avvertito sia considerato (cioè esista) quando riflettiamo sul linguaggio in quanto linguaggio già abbiamo abbandonato il modo di procedere rimasto finora consueto nella riflessione sul linguaggio. Non possiamo più andare alla ricerca di concetti generali come “energia” “attività” “lavoro” “forza spirituale” “visione del mondo”, espressione sotto i quali condurre il linguaggio come un caso particolare di tale generalità. Anziché spiegare il linguaggio come questa o quest’altra cosa fuggendone in tal modo lontano, il cammino verso il linguaggio vorrebbe fare esperire il linguaggio come linguaggio, nell’essenza del linguaggio, il linguaggio è sì compreso, ma afferrato per mezzo di altro da esso è il famoso metalinguaggio (di cui diceva prima il metalinguaggio come metafisica) se volgiamo invece l’attenzione unicamente al linguaggio come linguaggio, questo pretende allora da noi che mettiamo finalmente in evidenza tutto quello che fa parte del linguaggio in quanto linguaggio (è quello che ho cercato di fare in questi anni intendendo che cosa fa funzionare il linguaggio) Nel parlare rientrano i parlanti, ma il rapporto tra parlanti e parlare non è riducibile a quello tra causa ed effetto (se no sarebbe come dire che qualcosa dà la parola, mentre lui è stato preciso, “è la parola che dà”, ma cosa dà? Le cose, l’Essere.) I parlanti trovano piuttosto nel parlare il loro essere presenti, presenti a che? A ciò con cui parlano, presso cui dimorano in quanto realtà che sempre già li riguarda, è quanto dire “gli altri, le cose, tutto ciò che fa che queste siano cose, queste precise cose e quelli gli altri quei concreti altri” (questo fa la parola, fa esistere tutte queste cose qui) A tutto questo ora in un modo, ora in un altro già sempre è andato l’appello del parlare. // Ma come sono pensati il parlare e il “parlato”, nel breve racconto che si è precedentemente fatto del linguaggio? Essi si rivelano già come ciò per cui e in cui qualcosa si fa parola, giunge a farsi evidente in quanto qualcosa è detto. Dire e parlare non sono la stessa cosa, uno può parlare, parla senza fine, e tutto quel parlare non dice nulla, un altro invece tace, non parla e può col suo non parlare dire molto, ma che significa dire, “sagen” in tedesco? Per esperire questo è necessario attenersi a ciò che la lingua tedesca già costringe a pensare con la parola “sagen”. “Sagan” significa “mostrare” “far che qualcosa appaia” “si veda” “si senta” // Ciò che fa essere il linguaggio come linguaggio è il dire originario “die saghe” in quanto “mostrare” “die Zeige”, il mostrare proprio di questo non si basa su un qualche segno ma tutti i segni traggono origine da un mostrare nel cui ambito e per i cui fini soltanto acquistano la possibilità di essere segni. (Ma non sta proprio in questo mostrare, nel fatto che tutti i segni traggono origine da un mostrare che si impianta la metafisica stessa, la sua stessa possibilità? Ma ne riparleremo perché è una questione tutt’altro che semplice) // (siamo alla fine volevo riprendere le tre domande che faceva prima, adesso possiamo rispondere a ciò che si è domandato): Il dire originario è mostrare, in tutto ciò (ricordate: il dire originario è mostrare. Questo è il dire originario per Heidegger) in tutto ciò che ci volge la parola, che ci tocca come oggetto di parola o parola, che ci si partecipa, che in quanto non detto è in attesa di noi, non solo ma in quello stesso parlare, che noi veniamo mettendo in atto, che è operante il mostrare sempre e comunque, in virtù di questo che ciò che è presente appare, ciò che è assente dispare. Questo (è sempre il dire originario il soggetto) dischiude ciò che è presente nel suo esser presente (che sembra una ripetizione inutile “dischiude il suo essere presente nel suo essere presente” ma il fatto che qualcosa sia presente per Heidegger non è così automatico, occorre qualcosa che dischiuda, apra l’orizzonte entro il quale qualche cosa può essere presente, non basta che sia presente perché che sia presente da sé non significa niente se non c’è il linguaggio che fa essere presente.) il dire originario domina compone in unità la libera distesa di quella radura … da dove viene il mostrare? La domanda vuol sapere troppo e troppo in fretta (non è che possiamo sapere tutto subito) gioverà accontentarsi di osservare la natura e l’origine del moto presente nel mostrare, non è necessaria qui una lunga ricerca è sufficiente l’intuizione repentina, non obliabile e perciò sempre nuova, di ciò che, sì, è a noi familiare, ma che noi tuttavia lungi dal riconoscere nel modo che ci conviene neppure cerchiamo di conoscere, questa realtà sconosciuta e non di meno familiare da cui ogni mostrare del dire originario trae il proprio moto, è per ogni essere presente ed essere assente l’alba di quel mattino nel quale soltanto può trovare inizio la vicenda del giorno e della notte. Alba che insieme l’ora prima e l’ora più remota tale realtà appena ci è dato nominarla, essa è l’“ort” che non tollera “Er-örterung”. Il tempo che non concede di essere raggiunto perché è luogo di tutti i luoghi e di tutti gli spazi del gioco del tempo, noi la chiameremo con una parola antica e diremo: ciò che muove nel mostrare del dire originario è lo “Eignen”. Lo Eignen adduce ciò che è presente e assente in quello che gli è proprio, cosicché emergendone la cosa presente e assente, si rivela nella sua vera identità e resta se stessa. // Il linguaggio non si irrigidisce in se stesso nel senso di un narcisismo di tutto dimentico tranne che di sé, come sarebbe potuto apparire, (eventualmente) come dire originario il linguaggio è il mostrare appropriante, che appunto prescinde da sé per dischiudere così per mostrare la possibilità di rilevarsi nella figura che gli è propria, (cioè il linguaggio consente alla cosa di mostrarsi e permette anche alla cosa di mostrarsi per quello che è. Il linguaggio è questa possibilità delle cose di essere quelle che sono. Ma non toglie alle cose il fatto che sono quelle che sono.) Il linguaggio che parla dicendosi cura che il nostro parlare, ascoltare il dire che non ha suono, corrisponda a quel che esso (linguaggio) viene dicendo, in tal modo anche il silenzio che non di rado si pone a fondamento del linguaggio, come sua scaturigine, è già un corrispondere (corrispondere alla chiamata del dire, ovviamente, cioè del λόγος. La conclusione sarà a questo punto la risposta a quelle tre domande.) Poiché noi uomini, per essere quelli che siamo, restiamo immessi nel linguaggio, né mai possiamo uscirne e posarci a un punto da cui ci sia dato circoscriverlo con lo sguardo, noi vediamo il linguaggio sempre solo in quanto il linguaggio stesso già si è affissato su di noi (appoggiato su di noi, fissato su di noi) ci ha appropriato a sé, il fatto che del linguaggio ci è precluso il sapere, (perché per sapere sul linguaggio bisognerebbe uscire dal linguaggio e tutte queste storie) il sapere inteso secondo la concezione tradizionale fondata sull’idea che conoscere sia rappresentare, non è certamente un difetto bensì il privilegio grazie al quale siamo eletti e attratti in una sfera superiore, in quella in cui noi assunti a portare a parole il linguaggio dimoriamo come immortali insomma siamo fortunati ad essere parlanti. Allora le tre domande alle quali potete, a questo punto, rispondere voi stessi: Che è la parola per avere tanto potere? È l’Essere è il logos. Perché la parola ha tanto potere? Perché è ciò che in quanto Essere è ciò che consente alle cose di apparire, ma che è la cosa per avere bisogno della parola per essere? La parola ha bisogno della parola per essere la cosa, e quindi è quella cosa che diventa cosa soltanto se la parola la fa essere cosa. Terza domanda: che significa qui Essere dal momento che appare come un dono conferito alla cosa dalla parola? che significa qui Essere? Λόγος, nient’altro che λόγος e bell’è fatto. Ecco, io vi ho fatto considerare queste cose perché non è tanto il fatto del contenuto delle affermazioni di Heidegger quanto il modo in cui approccia la questione del linguaggio, in un modo che lui direbbe “non presentativo” cioè non mostra, non dice che cos’è il linguaggio come fa la linguistica, come fa la filosofia del linguaggio, come fa la filosofia in generale approcciando il linguaggio come ente, perché sta qui la differenza ontologica: ente/Essere. Il linguaggio è Essere non è ente. Sono considerazioni interessanti che possono portare ad altre considerazioni, possono aprire altre vie, per questo motivo vi ho letto alcune cose di questo testo di Martin Heidegger. The uttered speech of private life is fluctuating and variable. In  every period it varies according to the age, class, education, and habits of  the speaker. His social experience, traditions and general background,  his ordinary tastes and pursuits, his intellectual and moral cultivation are  all reflected in each man’s conversation. These factors determine and  modify a man’s mode of speech in innumerable ways. They may affect  his pronunciation, the speed of his utterance, his choice of vocabulary,  the shade of meaning he attaches to particular words, or turns of phrase,  the character of such similes and metaphors as occur in his speech, his  word order and the structure of his sentences.   But the individual speaker is also affected by the character of those  to whom he speaks. He adjusts himself in a hundred subtle ways to the  age, status, and mental attitude of the company in which he finds himself.  His own state of mind, and the mode of its expression are unconsciously  modified by and attuned to the varying degree of intimacy, agreement,  and community of experience in which he may stand with his companions  of the moment.   Thus an accomplished man of the world, in reality, speaks not  one but many slightly different idioms, and passes easily and instinc-  tively, often perhaps unknown to himself, from one to another, according  to the exigence of circumstances. The man who does not possess,  to some extent at least, this power of adjustment, is of necessity a stranger  in eveuy company but that of one particular type. No man who is not  a fool will consider it proper to address a bevy of Bishops in precisely  the same way as would be perfectly natural and suitable among a party  of fox-hunting country gentlemen.   A learned man, accustomed to choose his own topics of conversation  and dilate upon them at leisure in his College common room where he  can count upon the civil forbearance of other people like himself, would  be thought a tedious bore, and a dull one at that, if he carried his  pompous verbiage into the Officers’ Mess of a smart regiment. 'A  meere scholler is but a woefull creature says Sir Edmund Verney, in  a letter in which he discusses a proposal that his son should be sent to  Leyden, and observes concerning this ‘ 'tis too private for a youth of  his yeares that must see company at convenient times, and studdy men as  well as bookes, or else his bearing may make him rather ridiculous then  esteemed ^   There is naturally a large body of colloquial expression which is  common to all classes, scholars, sportsmen, officers, clerics, and the rest,  but each class and interest has its own special way of expressing itself,  which is more or less foreign to those outside it. The average colloquial speech of any age is at best a compromise between a variety of different  jargons, each evolved in and current among the members of a particular  section of the community, and each, within certain social limits, affects  and is affected by the others. Most men belong by their ciicumstanccs  or inclinations to several speech-communities, and have little difficulty in  maintaining Ihhmsclvcs creditably in all of these. The wider the social  opportunities and experience of the individual, and the keener his lin-  guistic instinct, the more readily does he adapt himself to the company  in which he finds himself, and the more easily docs he fall into line with  its accepted traditions of speech and bc aiing.   But if so much variety in the details of colloquial usage exists in  a single age, with such well-marked differences between the conventions  of each, how much greater will be the gulf which separates the types of  familiar conversation in different ages. Do we realize that if we could,  by the workings of some Time Machine, be suddenly transported back  into the seventeenth century, most of us would find it extremely difficult  to carry on, even among the kind of people most nearly corresponding  with those with whom we are habitually associated in our present age,  the simplest kind of decent social intercourse? Even if the pronunciation  of the sixteenth century offered no difficulty, almost every other element  which goes to make up the medium of communication with our fellows  would do so.   We should not know how to greet or take leave of those we met, how  to express our thanks in an acceptable manner, how to ask a favour, pay  a compliment, or send a polite message to a gentleman's wife. We  should be at a loss how to begin and end the simplest note, whether to  an intimate friend, a near relative, or to a stranger. We could not scold  a footman, commend a child, express in appropriate terms admiration for  a woman’s beauty, or aversion to the opposite quality. We should hesitate  every moment how to address the person we were talking to, and should be  embarassed for the equivalent of such instinctive phrases as look here, old  man ; my dear chap ; my dear Sir ; excuse me ; I beg your pardon ;  I’m awfully sorry; Oh, not at all; that 's too bad ; that ’s most amusing ;  you see ; don't you know ; and a hundred other trivial and meaningless  expressions with which most men fill out their sentences. Our innocent  impulses of pleasure, approval, dislike, anger, disgust, and so on, would  be nipped in the bud for want of words to express them. How should we  say, on the spur of the moment what a pretty girl 1 ; what an amusing  play I ; how clever and witty Mr. Jones is ! ; poor woman ; that's a perfectly  rotten book ; I hate the way she dresses ; look here, Sir, you had better  lake care what you say ; Oh, shut up ; I'm hanged if I'll do that ; I’m very  much obliged to you. I'm sure ?   It is very probable that we perfectly grasp the equivalents of all these  and a thousand others when we read them in the pages of Congreve and  his contemporaries, but it is equally certain that the right expressions  would not rise naturally to our lips as we required them, were we  suddenly called upon to speak with My Lady Froth, or Mr. Brisk.   The fact is that we should feel thoroughly at sea in such company,  and should soon discover that we had to learn a new language of polite  society. In illustrating the colloquial style of the fifteenth century we have to  be content, either with the account of conversations given in letters, or with  such other passages from letters of the period as appear to be nearest  to the speech of everyday life.   The following passages are from the Shillingford Letters, to which  reference is repeatedly made in this book (see p. 65, &c.}, and are  extracted from the accounts given by the stout and genial Mayor of  Exeter, in letters to his friends, of his conversations with the Chancellor  during his visit to London.   Shillingford begins by referring to himself as ‘ the Mayer but suddenly  changes to the first person in describing the actual meeting, again  returning for a moment to the impersonal phrase.   Jolm Shillingford*   ‘The Saterdey next (28 Oct. 1447) tberafter the mayer came to West-  minster sone apon ix. atte belle, and ther mette w* my lorde Chanceller atte  brode dore a litell fro the steire fote comyng fro the Sterrechamber, y yn  the courte and by the dore knellyng and salutyng hym yn the moste godely  wyse that y cowde and recommended yn to his gode and gracious lordship  my feloship and all the comminalte, his awne peeple and bedmen of the  Cite of Exceter. He seyde to the mayer ij tymes “ Well come ’’ and the  tyme “Right well come Mayer'’ and helde the Mayer a grete while faste by  the honde, and so went forth to his barge and w* hym grete presse, lordis  and other, &c. and yn especiall the tresorer of the kynges housholde, w*  wham he was at right grete pryvy communication. And therfor y, mayer,  drowe me apart, and mette w* hym at his goyng yn to his barge, and ther  toke my leve of hym, seyyng these wordis, “ My lord, y wolle awayte apon  youre gode lordship and youre better leyser at another tyme He seyde  to me ayen, “Mayer, y pray yow hertely that ye do so, and that ye speke w*  the Chief Justyse and what that ever he will y woll be all redy”. And thus  departed. A little later:   * Nerthelez y awayted my tyme and put me yn presse and went right to my  lorde Chaunccller and seide, “My lorde y am come at your coinmaundc-  ment, but y se youre grete bysynesse is suchc that ye may not attencle ”,  He seide “Noo, by his trauthe and that y myght right well se”. Y scide  “Yee, and that y was sory and hadde pyty of his grete vexacion”. He  seide “ Mayer, y moste to morun ride by tyme to the Kyng, and come ayen  this wyke : ye most awayte apon my comyng, and then y wol speke the  justise and attende for yow ” &c. He seyde “ Come the morun Monedey ” (the Chancellor was speaking on  Sunday). .. “the love of God ” Y seyde the tyme was to shorte, and prayed  hym of Wendysdey ; y enfourmed hym (of t)he grete malice and venym that  they have spatte to me yn theire answeris as hit appercth yn a copy that  y sende to yow of. My lorde seide, “ Alagge alagge, why wolde they do so ?  y woll sey right sbarpely to ham therfor and y nogh  Brews*   The following brief extracts from the letters of Brews, the  affianced wife of Jolm Fasten (junior) are like a ray of sunlight in the  dreary wilderness of business and litigation, which are the chief subjects  of correspondence between the Pa&tons. Even this Iove*letter is not wholly free from the taint, but the girl's gentle affection for her lover is  the prevailing note*   * Yf that ye cowde be content with that good and my por persone I wold  be the meryest mayclen on grounde, and yf ye thynke not your selffe soe  satysfyed or that ye myght hafe much mor good, as I hafe ujtidyrstonde be  youe afor ; good trewe and iovyng volentyne, that ye take no such labur  iippon yowe, as to come more for that matter, but let it passe, and never  more to be spokyn of, as I may be your trewe lover and bedewoman during  my lyfe .’ Pas ton Letters^ hi, A few years later Mrs. Fasten writes to her 'trewe and Iovyng  volentyne ' : ' My mother in lawe thynketh longe she here no word from you. She is in  goode heaie, blissed be God, and al yowr babees also. I marvel I here no  word from you, weche greveth me ful evele. I sent you a letter be Basiour  sone of Norwiche, wher of I have no word.’ To this the young wife adds  the touching postscript : ' Sir I pray yow if ye tary longe at London that it  wii plese to sende for me, for I thynke longe sen I lay in your armes.’  Paston Letie?-Sj  Sir Thomas More.   No figure in the eaily part of Henry VIII’s reign is more distin-  guished and at the same time more engaging than that of Sir Thomas  More* A few typical records of his conversation, as preserved by his  devoted biographer and son-in-law Roper, are chosen to illustrate the  English of this time. The context is given so that the extracts may  appear in Roper's own setting.   'Not long after this the Watter baylife of London (sonietyme his servaunte)  liereing, where he had beene at dinner, certayne Marchauntes^ liberally to  rayle against his ould Master, waxed so discontented therwith, that he  hastily came to him, and tould him what he had hard: "and were I Sir”  (quoth he) " in such favour and authoritie with my Prince as you are, such  men surely should not be suffered so villanously and falsly to misreport and  slander me. Wherefore 1 would wish you to call them before you, and to  there shame, for there lewde malice to punnish them.” Who smilinge upon  him sayde, " Watter Baylie, would you have me punnish them by whome  1 reccave more benefit! then by you all that be my frendes ? Let them  a Gods name speakc as lewdly as they list of me, and shoote never soe  many airowcs at me, so long as they do not hitt me, what am I the worse?  But if the should once hitt me, then would it a little trouble me : howbeit,  I trust, by Gods helpe, (here shall none of them all be able to touch me.  I have more cause, Water Bayly (I assure thee) to pittie them, then to  be angrie with them.” Such frutfiill communication had he often tymes  with his familiar frendes. Soe on a tyme walking a long the Thames syde  with me at Chelsey, in talkinge of other thinges he sayd to me, " Now,  would to God, Sonne Roger, upon condition three things are well estab-  lished in Christendome, I were put in a sacke, and here presently cast into the  Thames.” " What great thinges be these, Sir ” quoth I, " that should move  you $0 to wish?” "Wouldest thou know, sonne Roper, what they be”  quoth he? “Yea marry, Sir, with a good will if it please you”, quoth I,  “ I faith, they be these Sonne ”, quoth he. The first is, that where as the  most part of Christian princes be at mortall warrs, they weare at universal  peace. The second, that wheare the Church of Christ is at this present soare afflicted witli many heresies and errors, it were well settled in an  uniformity. The third, that where the Kinges matter of his marriage is now  come into question, it were to the glory of God and quietnesse of all parties  brought to a good conclusion : ’’ where by, as I could gather, he judged, that  otherwise it would be a disturbance to a great part of Christ endome/   ‘ When Sir Thomas Moore had continued a good while in the Tower, my  Ladye his wife obtayned license to see him, who at her first comminge like  a simple woman, and somewhat worldlie too, with this manner of salutations  bluntly saluted him, ‘‘What the good yeai'e, Moore” quoth shee,   I marvell that you, that have beene allwayes hitherimto taken for soe wise  a man, will now soe playe the foole to lye here in this close filthie prison, and  be content to be shutt upp amonge myse and rattes, when you might be  abroad at your libertie, and with the favour and good will both of the  King and his Councell, if you would but doe as all the Bushopps and best  learned of this Realme have done. And seeing you have at Chelsey a right  fayre house, your librarie, your books, your gallerie, your garden, your  orchards, and all other necessaries soe handsomely about you, where you  might, in the companie of me your wife, your children, and houshould be  merrie, I muse what a Gods name you meane here still thus fondlye to tarry.’'  After he had a while quietly hard her, “ I pray thee good Alice, tell me,  tell me one thinge.” “ What is that ? ” (quoth shee). “ Is not this house  as nighe heaven as myne owne?” To whome shee, after her accustomed  fashion, not likeinge such talke, answeared, “ Tilh valie, Tille valle ”  “How say you, Alice, is it not soe?” quoth he. Bone deus, bone  Deusy man, will this geare never be left?” quoth shee. “Well then  Alice, if it be soe, it is verie well. For I see noe great cause whie  I should soe much joye of my gaie house, or of any thinge belonginge  thereunto, when, if I should but seaven yeares lye buried under ground,  and then arise, and come thither againe, I should not fayle to finde some  Iherin that would bidd me gett out of the doores, and tell me that weare  none of myne. What cause have I then to like such an house as would  soe soone forgett his master?” Soe her perswasions moved him but a little.*   The last days of this good man on earth, and some of his sayings just  before his death, are told with great simplicity by Roper. We cannot  forbear to quote the affecting passage which tells of Sir Thomas More’s  last parting from his daughter, the writer’s wife.   ‘When Sir Tho. Moore came from Westminster to the Towreward againe,  his daughter my wife, desireous to see her father, whome shee thought shee  should never see in this world after, and alsoe to have his finall blessinge,  gave attendaunce aboutes the Towre wharfe, where shee knewe he should  passe by, eVe he could enter into the Towre. There tarriinge for his  coininge home, as soone as shee sawe him, after his blessinges on her  knees reverentlie receaved, shoe hastinge towards, without consideration  and care of her selfe, pressinge in amongest the midst of the thronge and  the Companie of the Guard, that with Hollbards and Billes weare round  about him, hastily ranne to him, and then openlye in the sight of all them  embraced and tooke him about the necke, and kissed him, whoe well likeing  her most daughterlye love and affection towards him, gave her his fatherlie  blessinge, and manye goodlie words of comfort besides, from whome after  shee was departed, shee not satisfied with the former sight of her deare  father, havinge respecte neither to her self, nor to the presse of the people  and multitude that were about him, suddenlye turned backe againe, and  rann to him as before, tqoke him about the necke, and divers tymes togeather  most lovinglay kissed him, and at last with a full heavie harte was fayne to  departe from him; the behouldinge whereof was to manye of them that were  present thereat soe lamentablcj that it made them for very sorrow to mourne  and weepe.’ In his last letter to his ' dearely beloved daughter, written with a Cole  Sir Thomas More refers to this incident :' And I never liked your  manners better, then when you kissed me last. For* I like when  daughterlie Love, and deare Charitie hath noe leasure to looke to worldlie  Curtesie   Next morning ‘ Sir Thomas even, and the Utas of St. Peeter in the yeare  of our Lord God, earlie in the morninge, came to him Sir Thomas  Pope, his singular trend, on messedge from the Kinge and his Councell,  that hee should before nyne of the clocke in the same morninge suffer  death, and that therefore fourthwith he should prepare himselfe thereto.   Pope sayth he, for your good tydinges I most hartily thankyou.  I have beene allwayes^ bounden much to the Kinges Highnes for the  benehtts and honors which he hath still from tyme to tyme most bounti-  fully heaped upon mee, and yete more bounden I ame to his Grace for  putting me into this place, where I have had convenient tyme and space to  have remembraunce of my end, and soe helpe me God most of all Pope,  am I bound to his Highnes, that it pleased him so shortlie to ridd me of  the miseries of this wretched world. And therefore will I not fayle most  earnestlye to praye for his Grace both here, and alsoe in another world, .And I beseech you, good Pope, to be a meane unto his Highnes, that  my daughter Margarette may be present at my buriall.’’ “ The King is well  contented allreadie*' (quoth M^’ Pope) ‘‘that your Wife, Children and other  frendes shall have free libertie to be present thereat “O how much be-  hoiilden” then said Sir Thomas Moore “am I to his Grace, that unto my  poore buriall vouchsafeth to have so gratious Consideration.*’ Wherewithal!   Pope takeinge his leave of him could not refrayne from weepinge, which  Sir Tho. Moore perceavinge, comforted him in this wise, “ Quiete yourselfe  good M^ Pope, and be not discomforted. For I trust that we shall once in  heaven see each other full merily, where we shall bee sure to live and love  togeather in joyfull blisse eternally.Wolsey.   The Ij/e of Wolsey, by George Cavendish, a faithful and  devoted servant of the Cardinal, who was with him on his death-bed,  gives a wonderfully interesting picture of this remarkable man, in affluence  and in adversity, and records a number of conversations which have  a convincing air of verisimilitude. The following specimens are taken  from the Kelmscott Press edition of 1893, which follows the spelling of  the author's MS. in the British Museum.   ‘ After ther departyng^ my lord came to the sayd howsse of Eston to his  lodgyng, where he had to supper with hyme dyvers of his frends of the court.  And syttyng at supper, in came to hyme Doctor Stephyns, the secretary,  late ambassitor unto Rome ; but to what entent he came I know not ;  howbeit my lord toke it that he came bothe to dissembell a certeyn  obedyence and love towards hyme, or ells to espie hys behaviour, and to  here his commynycacion at supper. Not withstandyng my lord bade hyme  well come, and commaundyd hyme to sytt down at the table to supper;  with whome my lord had thys commynycacion with hyme under thys  maner. Mayster Secretary, quod my lord, ye be-welcome home owt of  Rally; whan came ye frome Rome? Forsothe, quod he, I came home  allmost a monethe agoo ; and where quod my lord have you byn ever  sence? Forsothe, quod he, folowyng the court this progresse. Than have  ye hunted and had good game and pastyme. Forsothe, Syr, quod he, and  so I have, I thanke the kyngs Majestie, What good greyhounds have ye?  quod my lord. I have some syr quod he. And thus in huntyng, and in  lyke disports,, passed they all ther commynycacion at supper. And after  supper my lord and he talked secretly together until it was mydnyght or  they departed.’ Than all thyng beyng ordered as it is before reherced, my lord  prepared hyme to depart by water. ^ And before his departyng he com-  maundyd Syr William Gascoyne, his treasorer, to se these thyngs byfore  remembred, delyverd safely to the kyng at his repayer. That don, the  seyd Syr William seyd unto my lord. Syr I ame sorry for your grace, for  I understand ye shall goo strayt way to the tower. Ys this the good  comfort and councell, quod my lord, that ye can geve your mayster in  adversitie? Yt hathe byn allwayes your naturall inclynacion to be very  light of credytt, and mych more lighter in reporting of false newes,  I wold ye shold knowe, Syr William, and all other suche blasphemers,  that it is nothyng more false than that, for I never, thanks be to god,  deserved by no wayes to come there under any arrest, allthoughe it hathe  pleased the kyng to take my howse redy furnysshed for his pleasyr at this  tyme. I wold all the world knewe, and so I confesse to have no thyng,  other riches, honour, or dignyty, that hathe not growen of hyme and by  hyme ; therefore it is my verie dewtie to surrender the same to hyme agayn  as his very owen, with al my hart, or ells I ware and onkynd servaunt.  Therefore goo your wayes, and geve good attendaunce unto your charge,  that no thyng be embeselled.’ ‘And the next day we removed to Sheffeld Parke, where therle of Shrews-  bury lay within the loge, and all the way thetherward the people cried and  lamented, as they dyd in all places as we rode byfore. And whan we came  in to the parke of Sheffeld, nyghe to the logge, my lord of Shrewesbury, with  my lady his wyfe, a trayn of gentillwomen, and all my lords gentilmen, and  yomen, standyng without the gatts of the logge to attend my lords commy ng,  to receyve hyme with myche honor ; whome therle embraced, sayeng these  words. My lord quod he, your grace is most hartely welcome unto me, and  glade to se you in my poore loge ; the whiche I have often desired ; and  myche more gladder if you had come after another sort. Ah, my gentill  lord of Shrewesbury quod my lord, I hartely thanke you ; and allthoughe  I have no cause to rejoyce, yet as a sorowe full hart may joye, I rejoyce my  chaunce, which is so good to come into the hands and custody of so noble  a persone, whose approved honor and wysdome hathe byn allwayes right  well knowen to all nobell estats. And Sir, howe soever my ongentill accusers  hathe used ther accusations agenst me, yet I assure you, and so byfore your  lordshipe and all the world do I protest, that my demeanor and procedyngs  hathe byn just and loyall towards my soverayn and liege lord ; of whose  behaviour and doyngs your lordshipe hathe had good experyence ; and evyn  accordyng to my trowthe and faythfulnes, so I bescche god helpe me in this  my calamytie. I dought nothyng of your Irouthe, quod therle, tlierfore my  lorde I beseche you be of good chere and feare not, for I have receyved  letters from the kyng of his owen hand in your favour and entertaynyng the  whiche you shall se. Sir, I ame nothyng sory but that I have not wherwith  worthely to receyve you, and to entertayn you accordyng to your honour and  my good wyll ; but suche as I have ye are most hartely welcome therto,  desiryng you to accept my good wyll accordyngly, for I wol not receyve you  as a prisoner, but as my good lord, and the kyngs trewe faythfull subjecte ;  and here is my wyfe come to salute you. Whome my lord kyst barehedyd,  and all hir gentilwomen ; and toke my lords servaunts by the hands, as well  gentilmen and yomen as other. Then these two lords went arme in arme into the logge, conductyng my lord into a fayer chamber at thend of a goodly  gallery within a newe tower, and here my lord was lodged.’ Here are some short portions of dialogue between Wolsey and his  friends, just before his death :   * Uppon Monday in the mornyng, as I stode by his bedds' side, abought  viii of the clocke, the wyndowes beyng cloose shett, havyng wake lights  burnyng uppon the cupbord, I behyld hyme, as me seemed, drawyng fast to  his end. He perceyved my shadowe uppon the wall by his bedds side,  asked who was there. Sir I ame here, quod I. Howe do you ? quod he to  me. Very well Sir, if I myght se your grace well. What is it of the clocke ?  quod he to me. Forsothe Sir, quod I, it is past viii. of the clocke in the  mornyng. Eight of the clocke, quod he, that cannot be, rehersing dyvers  times eight of the clocke, eight of the clocke. Nay, nay, quod he at the last,  it cannot be viii of the clocke, for by viii of the clocke ye shal loose your  mayster ; for my tyme drawyth nere that I must depart out of this world.’‘ Mayster Kyngston farewell. I can no moore, but why she all thyngs to  have good successe. My tyme drawyth on fast. I may not tary with you.  And forget not I pray you, what I have seyd and charged you with all : for  whan I ame deade, ye shall peradventure remember my words myche better.  And even with these words he began to drawe his speche at lengthe and his  tong to fayle, his eyes beyng set in his hed, whos sight faylled hyme ; than  we began to put hyme in rembraunce of Christs passion, and sent for the  Abbott of the place to annele hyme ; who came with all spede and mynestred  unto hyme all the servyce to the same belongyng ; and caused also the gard  to stand by, bothe to here hyme talk byfore his deathe, and also to here  wytnes of the same ; and incontinent the clocke strake viii, at whiche tyme  he gave uppe the gost, and thus departed he this present lyfe.’Latimer.   The Sermons of Bp. Latimer present good examples^ of colloquial  oratory, and the style is but little removed from the colloquial style of the  period. The following are from the Sermon of the Ploughers, preached. ' For they that be lordes vyll yll go to plough. It is no mete office for  them. It is not semyng for their state. Thus came up lordyng loiterers.  Thus crept in vnprechinge prelates, and so haue they longe continued.   ‘ For how many vnlearned prelates haue we now at this day ? And no  maruel. For if ye plough men yat now be, were made lordes they woulde  cleane gyue ouer ploughinge, they woulde leaue of theyr labour and fall to  lordyng outright, and let the plough stand. And then bothe ploughes nor  walkyng nothyng shoulde be in the common weale but honger. For euer  sence the Prelates were made Loordes and nobles, the ploughe standeth,  there is no worke done, the people starue.   ‘ Thei hauke, thei hunt, thei card, they dyce, they pastyme m theyr pre-  lacies with galaunte gentlemen, with theyr daunsmge mmyons, and with  theyr freshe companions, so that ploughinge is set a syde. And by tne  lordinge and loytryng, preachynge and ploughinge is cleane gone . ‘But^iiowe for the defaulte of vnpreaching prelates me thinke I coulde  gesse what myghte be sayed for excusynge of them : They are so troubeled  wyth Lordelye lyuynge, they be so placed in palacies, couched m courte^  ruffelynge in theyr rentes, daunceyng in theyr dominions, burdened with  ambassages, pamperynge of theyr paunches lyke a monke that maketh his jubilie, moundiynge in their maungers, and moylynge in their gaye manoures  and mansions, and so troubeled wyth loy terynge in theyr Lordeshyppes : that  they canne not attende it. They are other wyse occupyed, some in the  kynges matters, some are ambassadoures, some of the pryuie counsell, some  to furnyslie the courte, some are Lordes of the Parliamente, some are  presidentes, and some comptroleres of myntes. Well, well.   Is thys theyr duetye? Is thys theyr offyee? Is thys theyr callyng?  Should we haue ministers of the church to be comptrollers of the myntes ?  Is thys a meete office for a prieste that hath cure of soules ? Is this hys  charge ? I woulde here aske one question : I would fayne knowe who comp-  trolleth the deuyll at home at his parishe, whyle he comptrolleth the mynte ?  If the Apostles mighte not ieaue the office of preaching to be deacons, shall  one Ieaue it for myntyng ? ’   Wilson’s Ar^e of Rhetorique (1560) has a section 'Of deliting the  hearers, and stirring them to laughter ’ in which are enumerated ' What  are the kindes of sporting, or mouing to laughter'. The subject is  illustrated by various ' pleasant ' stories, which if few of them would now  make us laugh, are at least couched in a very easy and colloquial style  and enlivened by scraps of actual conversation. The most amusing  element in the whole chapter is the attitude of the writer to the subject,  and the combination of seriousness and scurrility with which it is handled.   ' The occasion of laughter’ says Wilson, 'and themeane that maketh us mery  ... is the fondnes, the filthines, the deformitie, and all such euill be-  hauiour as we see to be in other? ... Now when we would abashe a  man for some words that he hath spoken, and can take none aduauntage  of his person, or making of his bodie, we either doubt him at the first,  and make him beleeue that he is no wiser then a Goose : or els we confute  wholy his sayings with some pleasaunt iest, or els we extenuate and diminish  his doings by some pretie meanes, or els we cast the like in his dish, and  with some other devise, dash hym out of countenance : or last of all, we  laugh him to scorne out right, and sometimes speake almost neuer a word,  but only in continuaunce, shewe our selues pleasaunt’. ^p. 136.   ‘ A frend of mine, and a good fellowe, more honest then wealthie, yea and  more pleasant then thriftie, liauing need of a nagge for his iourney that he  had in hande, and being in the countrey, minded to go to Parlnaie faire in  Lincolnshire, not farre from the place where he then laie, and meeting by the  way one of his acquaintaunce, told him his arrande, and asked him how  horses went at the Faire. The other aunswered merely and saidc, some  trot sir, and some amble, as farre as I can see. If their paces be altered,  I praye you tell me at our next meeting. And so rid away as fast as his  horse could cary him, without saying any word more, whereat he then  being alone, fel a laughing hartely to him self, and looked after a good  while, vntil the other was out of sight.’ p. 140.   'A Gentleman hauing heard a Sermon at Panics, and being come home,  was asked what the preacher said. The Gentleman answered he would  first heare what his man could saie, who then waited vpon him, with his  hatte and cloake, and calling his man to him, sayd, nowe sir, whate haue  you brought from the Sermon. Forsothe good Maister, sayd the seruaunt  your cloake and your hatte- A honest true dealing seruaunt out of doubt,  piaine as a packsadclle, bauing a better soule to God, though his witte was  simple, then those haue, that vnder the colour of hearing, giuc them selues  to priuie picking, and so bring other mens purses home in their bosomes,  in the steade of other mens Sermons.’ pp. 14X-2.   These two stories are intended to illustrate the point that ' We shall  delite the hearers, when they looke for one ansvvere, and we make them a cleane contrary, as though we would not seeme to vnderstand what they  would haue   ^Churlish aunsweres like the hearers sometimes very well. When the  father was cast in judgement, the Sonne seeing him weepe : why weepe  you Father? (quoth he) To whom his Father aunswered. ^What? Shall  I sing I pray thee seeing by Lawe I am condemned to "dye. Socrates  likewise bieing^ mooued of his wife, because he should dye an innocent  and guiltlesse in the Law: Why for shame woman (quoth he) wilt thou  haue me to dye giltic and deseruing. When one had falne into a ditch,  an other pitying his fall, asked him and saied : Alas how got you into  that pit ? Why Gods mother, quoth the other, doest thou aske me how  I got in, nay tell me rather in the mischiefe, how I shall get out.’   The nearest approach to the colloquial style in Bacon is to be found  in the Apophthegms, in which are scraps of conversation. A few may be  quoted, if only on account of the author.   ‘ Master Mason of Trinity College, sent his pupil to an other of the fellows,  to borrow a book of him, who told him, I am loth to lend my books out of  my chamber, but if it please thy tutor to come and read upon it in my chamber,  he shall as long as he will.” It was winter, and some days after the same  fellow sent to M^‘ Mason to borrow his bellows ; but M^’ Mason said to his  pupil, ‘‘ I am loth to lend my bellows out of my chamber, but if thy tutor  would come and blow the fire in my chamber, he shall as long as he will.”  ApophtJi. There were fishermen drawing the river at Chelsea: M^* Bacon came  thither by chance in the afternoon, and offered to buy their draught : they  were willing. He askcvl them what they would take ? They asked thirty  shillings. M^ Bacon offered them ten. They refused it. Why then said  M^* Bacon, I will be only a looker on. They drew and catched nothing.  Saith M^ Bacon, Are not you mad fellows now, that might have had an  angel in your purse, to have made merry withal, and to have warmed you  thoroughly, and now you must go home with nothing. Ay but, saith the  fishermen, we had hope then to make a better gain of it. Saith M^’ Bacon,  ‘‘ Well my master, then I will tell you, hope is a good breakfast, but it is  a bad supper.” Otway^s Comedies have all the coarseness and raciness of dialogue  of the latter half of the seventeenth century, and a pretty vein of genuine  comicality. They are packed with the familiar slang and colloquialisms  of the period. A few passages from Friendship in Fashion illustrate  at once the speech and the manners of the day.    Enter Lady SQUEAMISH at the Door,   Sir Noble Clmnsey, Hah, my Lady Cousin ! Faith Madam you see I am  at it.   Malagene, The Devil’s wit, I think ; we could no sooner talk of wh  but she must come in, with a pox to her. Madam, your Ladyship’s most  humble Servant.   Ldy Squ. Oh, odious ! insufferable ! who would have thought Cousin, you  would have serv’d me so fough, how he stinks of wine, I can smell him  hither. How have you the Patience to hear the Noise of Fiddles, and  spend your time in nasty drinking ?   Sir Noble, Hum ! ’tis a good Creature : Lovely Lady, thou shalt take  thy Glass.   Ldy Sgu, Uh gud ; murder 1 I had rather you had offered me a toad.   B b   Sir N, Then Malagene, here’s a Health to my Lady Cousin’s Pelion  upon Ossa. [Drinks and breaks the   Ldy Squ, Lord, dear Malagene what ’s that ?   MaL A certain Place Madam, in Greece, much talk’t of by the Ancients ;  the noble Gentleman is well read.   Ldy Squ. 'Nay he’s an ingenious Person I’ll assure you.   Sir N. Now Lady bright, I am wholly thy Slave: Give me thy Hand,  I’ll go straight and begin my Grandmother’s Kissing Dance ; but first deign  me the private Honour of thy Lip.   Ldy Squ. Nay, fie Sir Noble 1 how I hate you now ! for shame be not so  rude : I swear you are quite spoiled. Get you gone you good-natur’d Toad  you. [Exetmti\    Malagene, . . . I’m a very good Mimick ; I can act Punchinello, Scara-  mouchir, Harlequin, Prince Prettyman or anything. 1 can act the rumbling  of a Wheel -barrow.   Valentine, The rumbling of a Wheel-barrow !   MaL Ay, the rumbling of a Wheel-barrow, so I say Nay more than that,  I can act a Sow and Pigs, Saussages a broiling, a Shoulder of Mutton a  roasting : I can act a fly in a Honey-pot,   Truman, That indeed must be the Effect of very curious Observation.   MaL No, hang it, I never make it my business to observe anything, that  is Mechanicke. But all this I do, you shall see me if you will : But here  comes her Ladyship and Sir Noble.   Ldy Squ, Oh, dear M^ Truman, rescue me. Nay Sir Noble for Heav’n’s  sake.   Sir N, I tell thee Lady, I must embrace thee : Sir, do you know me ! I am  Sir Noble Clumsey : I am a Rogue of an Estate, and I live Do you want  any money ? I have fifty pounds.   VaL Nay good Sir Noble, none of your Generosity we beseech you. The  Lady, the Lady, Sir Noble.   Sir N. Nay, ’tis all one to me if you won’t take ft, there it is. Hang  Money, my Father was an Alderman.   MaL ’Tis pity good Guineas should be spoil’d, Sir Noble, by your leave.   [Picks up the Guineasl\   Sir N. But, Sir, you will not keep my Money ?   MaL Oh, hang Money, Sir, your Father was an Alderman.   Sir N, Well, get thee gone for an Arch-Wag I do but sham all this  while i ^but by Dad he ’s pure Company. Lady, once more I say be civil, and come kiss me.   VaL Well done Sir Noble, to her, never spare.   Ldy Squ, I may be even with you tho for all this, Valentine : Nay  dear Sir Noble : M^ Truman, I’ll swear he’ll put me into Fits.   Sir N, No, but let me salute the Hem of thy Garment, Wilt thou marry  me? [LTneels.]   MaL Faith Madam do, let me make the Match.   Ldy Squ, Let me die Malagene, you are a strange Man, and Fll  swear have a great deal of Wit. Lord, why don’t you write ?   MaL Write? I thank your Ladyship for that with all my Heart. No  I have a Finger in a Lampoon or so sometimes, that ’s all.   Truman, But he can act.   Ldy Squ, I’ll swear, and so he does better than any one upon our  Theatres; I have seen him. Oh the English Comedians are nothing, not  comparable to the French or Italian: Besides we want Poets.   SirN, Poets! Why I am a Poet; I have written three Acts of a Play,  and have nam’d it already. ’Tis to be a Tragedy.   Ldy Squ. Oh Cousin, if you undertake to write a Tragedy, take my Counsel : Be sure to say soft melting tender things in it that may be moving,  and make your Lady’s Characters virtuous whatever you do.   Sir N. Moving I Why, I can never read it myself but it makes me laugh :  well, ’tis the pretty’st Plot, and so full of Waggery.   Ldy Sgti, Oh ridiculous I   Mai But Knight, the Title ; Knight, the Title.   Sir N, Why let me see ; ’tis to be called The Merry Conceits of Love ;  or the Life and Death of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, with the Humours  of his Dog Boabdillo.   Mai PI a, ha, ha. . Ldy Squ, But dear Malagene, won’t you let us see you act a little  something of Harlequin? I’ll swear you do it so naturally, it makes me  think Fm at the Louvre or Whitehall all the time. [Mai acis.] O Lord,  don’t, don’t neither ; I’ll swear you’ll make me burst. Was there ever any-  thing so pleasant ?   Trwn, Was ever anything so affected and ridiculous ? Her whole Life  sure is a continued Scene of Impertinence. What a damn’d Creature is  a decay’d Woman, with all the exquisite Silliness and Vanity of her Sex, yet  none of the Charms ! [Mai s^peaks in PunchinelMs voicei\   Ldy Squ, O Lord, that, that ; that is a Pleasure intolerable. Well, let  me die if I can hold out any longer.   A Comparison between the Stages, wiih an Examen of the Generous  Conqueror^ printed in 1702, is a dialogue between ^ Two Gentlemen’,  Sullen and Ramble (see below), and ^a Critick’,upon the plays of the day and  others of an earlier date. The style is that of easy and natural familiar con-  versation, with little or no artificiality, and incidentally, the tract throws  light upon contemporary manners and social habits. The following  examples are designed to illustrate the colloquial handling of indifferent  topics, and the small-talk of the early eighteenth century, as well as  the treatment of the immediate subject of the essay.   Sullen. They may talk of the Country and what they will, but the Park  for my money.   Ramble. In its proper Season I grant you, when the Mall is pav’d with  lac’d shoes ; when the Air is perfum’d with the rosie Breath of so many fine  Ladies ; when from one end to the other the Sight is entertain’d with nothing  but Beauty, and the whole Prospect looks like an Opera.   Sull And when is it out of Season Ramble ?   Ram. When the Beauties desert it ; when the absence of this charming  Company makes it a Solitude : Then Sullen, the Park is to me no more than  a Wilderness, a very Common ; and a Grove in a country Garden with a  pretty Lady is by much the pleasanter Landscape.   Sull To a Man of your Quicksilver Constitution it may be so, and the  Cuckoo in May may be Music t’ee a hundred Miles off, when all the Masters  in Town can’t divert you.   Ram. I love everything as Nature and the Nature of Pleasure has con-  triv’d it ; I love the Town in Winter, because then the Country looks aged  and deform’d ; and I hate the Town in Summer, because then the Country is  in its Glory, and looks like a Mistress just drest out for enjoyment.   Sull Very well distinguish’d : Not like a Bride, but like a Mistress.   Ram. I distinguish ’em by that comparison because I love nothing well  enough to be wedded to ’t : I’m a Proteus in my Appetite, and love to change  my Abode with my Inclination,   Sull I differ from you for the very Reason you give for your change ; the  Town is evermore the same to me ; and tho* the Season makes it look after  another manner, yet still it has a Face to please me one way or other, and  both Winter and Summer make it agreeable, pp. 1-3*   B b 2   Here is a conversation during dinner at the ' Blew Posts \   Critik, What have you order’d ?   Ramh. A Brace of Carp stew’d, a piece of Lamb, and a Sallet ; d’ee  like it ?   Crit, I like, anything in the World that will indure Cutting : Prithee  Cook make haste or expect I shall Storm thy Kitchin.   SulL Why thou’rt as hungry as if thou hadst been keeping Garrison in  Mantua : I don’t know whether Flesh and Blood is safe in thy Company.   CriL I wish with all my Heart thou wert there, that thou mightst under-  stand what it is to fast as 1 have done : Come, to our Places • . . the blessed  hour is come. . . . Sit, sit . . . fall to, Graces are out of Fashion.   Ramb. I wish the Charming Madam Subligny were here.   CriL Gad so don’t 1 : I had rather her P'eet were pegg’d down to the  Stage; at present my Appetite stands another way : Waiter, some Wine ., .  or I shall choak. . Suit, This Fellow eats like an Ostrich, the Bones of these great Fish are  no more to him than the Bones of an Anchovy ; they melt upon his Tongue  like marrow Puddings.   Crit Ay, you may talk, but I’m sure I find ’em not so gentle ; here ’s  one yet in my Throat will be my death ; the Flask . . . the Flask . . .,   Ramb. But Critick, how did you like the Play last Night ?   Crit. I’ll tell you by and by, Lord Sir, you won’t give a Man time to break  his Fast: This Fish is such washy Meat ... a Man can’t fix his knife in ’t,  it runs away from him as if it were still alive, and was afraid of the Hook :  Put the Lamb this way.   SulL The Rogue quarrels with the Fish, and yet you cou’d eat up the  whole Pond ; the late Whale at Cuckold’s point, with all its oderiferous Gar-  badge, wou’d ha’ been but a Meal to him : Well, how do you like the Lamb ?  does that feel your knife?   Crit. A little more substantial, and not much : Well, I shou’d certainly be  starv’d if I were to feed with the French, I hate their thin slops, their Pot-  tages, Frigaces, and Ragous, where a Man may bury his Hand in the Sauce,  and dine upon Steam : No, no, commend me to King Jemmy’s English  Surloin, in whose gentle Flesh a Man may plunge a Case-knife to the tip of  the Handle, and then draw out a Slice that will surfeit half a Score Yeoman of  the Guard. Some Wine ye Dog . . . there ., . now I have slain the Giant ;  and now to your Question . . . what was it you askt me ?   Ramb. Won’t you stay the Desert ? Some Tarts and Cheese ?   Crit I abominate Tarts and Cheese, they’re like a faint After-kiss, when  a Man is sated with better Sport ; there ’s no more Nourishment in ’em, than  in the paring of an Apple. Here Waiter take away. . . .   Ramb. Then remove every Thing but the Table-cloth.’, .   Ramb. Here Waiter send to the Booksellers in Pell mell for the Generous  Conqueror and make haste . ., you say you know the Author Critick.   Crit. By sight I do, but no further ; he ’s a Gentleman of good Extraction,  and for ought I know, of good Sense.   Ramb. Surely that’s not to be questioned; I take it for granted that  a Man that can write a Play, must be a Man of good Sense.   Crit That is not always a consequence, I have known many a singing  Master have a worse voice than a Parish Clerk, and I know two dancing  Masters at this time, that are directly Cripples : . . . A Ship-builder may fit  up a Man of War for the West Indies, and perhaps not know his Compas :  Or a great Trpelier, with Heylin, that writ the Geography of the whole  World, may, like him, not know the way from the next Village to his  own House.   Ramb. Your Comparisons are remote M*^ Critick.   Cfit. Not so remote as some successful Authors are from good sense ;  Wit and Sense are no more the same than Wit and Humour; nay there is  even in Wit an uncertain Mode, a variable Fashion, that is as unstable as  the Fashion of our Cloaths : This may be proved by their Works who writ  a hundred Years ago, compar’d with some of the modern ; Sir Philip Sidney,  Don, Overbury, nay Ben himself took singular delight in playing with their  Words : Sir Philip is everywhere in his Arcadia jugling, which certainly by  the example of so great a Man, proves that sort of Wit then in Fashion ; now  that kind of Wit is call’d Punning and Quibbling, and is become too low for  the Stage, nay even for ordinary Converse ; so that when we find a Man who  still loves that old fashion’d Custom, we make him remarkable, as who is  more remarkable than Capt. Swan.   Ramb. Nay, your Quibble does well now a Days, your best Comedies  tast of ’em ; the Old Batchelor is rank.   Crit. But ’tis every Day decreasing, and Queen Betty’s Ruff and Fardin-  gale are not more exploded ; But Sense Gentlemen, is and will be the same  to the World’s end.   SulL And Nonsense is infinite, for England never had such a Stock and  such Variety.   Ramb. Yet I have heard the Poets that flourish’d in the last Reign but  two, complain of the same Calamity, and before that Reign the thing was the  same : All Ages have produced Murmurers ; and in the best of times you shall  hear the Trades-man cry Alas Neighbour ! sad Times, very hard Times ..,  not a Penny of Money stirring .Trade is quite dead, and nothing but War  . . . War and Taxes . . . when to my knowledge the gluttonous Rogue shall  drink his two Bottles at Dinner, and his Wife have half a Score of rich Suits,  a purse of Gold for the Gallant, and fifty Pounds worth of Gold and Silver  Lace on her under Petticoats.   Sail, Nay certainly, this that Ramble now speaks of is a great Truth;  those hypocritical Rogues are always grumbling; and tho’ our Nation never  had such a Trade, or so much Money, yet ’tis all too little for their voracious  Appetites : As I live says he, I can’t afford this Silk one Penny cheaper  d’ee mind the Rogues Equivocation ? as I live ^that is, he lives like a Gen-  tleman but let him live like a Tradesman and be hang’d ; let him wear  a Frock, and his Wife a blew Apron.   Ramb, See, the Book ’s here : go Waiter and shut the Door. pp. 76-9.   The dialogue of Hichardson, ' sounynge in moral vertu ^ devoid of all  the lighter touches, is typical of the age that was beginning, the age of  reaction against the levities and negligences in speech and conduct  of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries.   The following conversation of rather an agitated character, between  a mother and daughter, is from Letter XVI, in Clarissa Ifarlozue{i*j4S):   * • * • My mother came up to me. I love, she was pleased to say, to come  into this appartment. No emotions child I No flutters ! Am I not your  mother FAm I not your fond, your indulgent mother P- Do not discompose  me by discomposixig Do not occasion me uneasiness, when I would   glveyau nothing but pleasure. Come my dear, we will go into your closet. . . .  PI ear me out and then speak ; for I was going to expostulate. You are no  stranger to the end of M^ Solmes’s visits O Madam! Hear me out;  and then speak. He is not indeed everything I wish him to be : but he is  a man of probity and has no vices No vices Madam ! Hear me out child.  You have not behaved much amiss to him : we have seen with pleasur *. that  you have not O Madam, must I not now speak ! I shall have done pre.‘ fently,  A young creature of your virtuous and pious turn, she was pleased ! say,  cannot surely love a predicate ; you love your brother too well, to wish p see  any one who had like to have killed him, and who threatened youri incles  and defies us all You have had your own way six or seven times : v|? | w^nt  to secure you against a man so vile. Tell me (I have a right to know)  whether you prefer this man to all others ? Yet God forbid that I should  know you do ; for such a declaration would make us all miserable. Yet tell  me, a.re your affections engaged to this man ?   I know what the inference would be if I had said they were not You hesitate  You answer me not You cannot answer me Rising Nevermore will  I look upon you with an eye of favour O Madam, Madam ! Kill me not  with your displeasure I would not, I need not, hesitate one moment, did  I not dread the inference, if I answer you as you wish. Yet be that inference  what it will, your threatened displeasure will make me speak. And I declare  to you, that I know not my own heart if it be not absolutely free. And pray,  let me ask my dearest Mamma, in what has my conduct been faulty, that  like a giddy creature, I must be forced to marr^r, to save me from from  what ? Let me beseech you Madam to be the Guardian of my reputation \  Let not your Clarissa be precipitated into a stale she wishes not to enter into  with any man ! And this upon a supposition that otherwise she shall marry  herself, and disgrace her whole family.   When then, Clary [passing over the force of my plea] if your heart be free  O my beloved Mamma, let the usual generosity of your dear heart operate  in my favour.^ Urge not upon me the inference that made me hesitate.   I won’t be interrupted, Clary You have seen in my behaviour to you, on  this occasion, a truly maternal tenderness ; you have observed that I have  undertaken the task with some reluctance, because the man is not everything ;  and because I know you carry your notions of perfection in a man too high.  Dearest Madam, this one time excuse me ! Is there then any danger that  I should be guilty of an imprudent thing for the man’s sake you hint at ?  Again interrupted! Am I to be questioned, and argued with? You know  this won’t do somewhere else. You know it won’t. What reason then,  ungenerous girl, can you have for arguing with me thus, but because you  think from my indulgence to you you may ?   What can I say ? What can I do ? What must that cause be that will not  bear being argued upon ?   Again ! Clary Harlowe   Dearest Madam forgive me : it was always my pride and my pleasure to  obey you. But look upon that man see but the disagreeableness of his  person Now, Clary, do I see whose pei'son you have in your eye ! Now is  M^’ Solmes, I see, but coinparatively disagreeable ; disagreeable only as an«  other man has a much more specious person.   But, Madam, are not his manners equally so 1 Is not his person the true  representation of his mind ? That other man is not, shall not be, anything  to me, release me from this one man, whom my heart, unbidden, resists.   Condition thus with your father. Will he bear, do you think, to be thus  dialogued with? Have I not conjured you, as you value my peace What is  it that / do not give up ?*~-This very task, because I apprehended you would  not be easily persuaded, is a task indeed upon me. And will you give up  nothing ? Have you not refused as many as have been offered to you ? If you  would not have us guess for whom, comply ; for comply you must, or be  looked upon as in a state of defiance with your whole family. And saying  thus she arose, and went from me.’   Miss AusteiL.   The following examples of Miss Austen’s dialogue are not selected  because they are the most sparkling conversations in her works, but  rather because they appear to be typical of the way of speech of the  period, and further they illustrate Miss Austeff s incomparable art. The  first passage is ixomEmma^ which was written between i8ii and  3^5   i8i6. Mr. Woodhouse and his daughter have just received an invitation  to dine with the Coles, enriched tradespeople who had settled in the  neighbourhood. Emma's view of them was that they were ' very respect-  able in their way, but they ought to be taught that it was not for them to  arrange the times on which the superior families would visit them On  the present occasion, however, ‘ she was not absolutely w^ithout inclina-  tion for the party. The Coles expressed themselves so properly there  was so much real attention in the manner of it so much consideration  for her father/ Emma having decided in her own mind to accept the  invitation some of her intimate friends were going it remained to  explain to her father, the ailing and fussy Mr. Woodhouse, that he  would be left alone without his daughter s company for the evening, as it  was out of the question that he should accompany her. ‘ He was soon  pretty well resigned.’   ‘ I am not fond of dinner-visiting ” said he ; “I never was. No more is  Emma. Late hours do not agree with us. I am sorry and Cole  should have done it. I think it would be much better if they would come in  one afternoon next summer and take their tea with us ; take us in their  afternoon walk, which they might do, as our hours are so reasonable, and  yet get home without being out in the damp of the evening. The dews of  a summer evening are what I would not expose anybody to. However as  they are so very desirous to have dear Emma dine with them, and as you  will both be there [this refers to his friend Weston and his wife], and  Knightley too, to take care of her I cannot wish to prevent it, provided  the weather be what it ought, neither damp, nor cold, nor windy.” Then  turning to Weston with a look of gentle reproach “Ah, Miss Taylor,  if you had not married, you would have staled at home with me.”   “ Well, Sir ”, cried Weston, as I took Miss Taylor away, it is incumbent  upon me to supply her place, if I can ; and I will step to M^’® Goddard in  a moment if you wish it.” . . . With this treatment M^ Woodhouse was  soon composed enough for talking as usual. “ He should be happy to see  M^*® Goddard. He had a great regard for Goddard; and Emma  should write a line and invite her. James could take the note. But first  there must be an answer written to M’^® Cole.”   “ You will make my excuses, my dear, as civilly as possible. You will say  that I am quite an invalid, and go nowhere, and therefore must decline their  obliging invitation ; beginning with my comj^limentsy of course. But you will  do everything right. I need not tell you what is to be done. We must  remember to let James know that the carriage will be wanted on Tuesday.  I shall have no fears for you with him. We have never been there above  once since the new approach was made ; but still I have no doubt that James  will take you very safely ; and when you gel there you must tell him at what  time you would have him come for you again ; and you had better name an  early hour. You will not like staying late. You will get tired when tea is over.”   “ But you would not wish me to come away before I am tired, papa ? ”   Oh no my love ; but you will soon be tired. There will be a great many  people talking at once. You will not like the noise.”   “But my dear Sir,” cried M^’ Weston, “if Emma comes away early, it  will be breaking up the party.”   “ And no great harm if it does ” said Woodhouse. “ The sooner every  party breaks up the better.”   “ But you do not consider how it may appear to the Coles. Emma’s going  away directly after tea might be giving offense. They are good-natured  people, and think little of their own claims ; but still they must feel that  anybody’s hurrying away is no great compliment ; and Miss Woodhouse’s doing it would be more thought of than any other personas in the room.  You would not wish to disappoint and mortify the Coles, I am sure, sir;  friendly, good sort of people as ever lived, and who have been your neighbours  these /en years.”   ‘^No, upon no account in the world, Weston, I am much obliged to  you for reminding me. I should be extremely sorry to be giving them any  pain. I know what worthy people they are. Peny tells me that Cole  never touches malt liquor. You would not think it to look at him, but he is  bilious M^' Cole is very bilious. No, I would not be the means of giving  them any pain. My dear Emma we must consider this. I am sure rather  than run any risk of hurting and Cole you would stay a little longer  than you might wish. You will not regard being tired. You will be perfectly  safe, you know, among your friends.”   Oh 5^es, papa. I have no fears at all for myself ; and I should have no  scruples of staying as late as Weston, but on your account. I am only  afraid of your silting up for me. I am not afraid of your not being ex-  ceedingly comfortable with Goddard. ^ She loves piquet, you know ; but  when she is gone home I am afraid you will be sitting up by youiself, instead  of going to bed at your usual time ; and the idea of that would entirely  destroy my comfort. You must promise me not to sit up.” *   The next example is in a very different vein. It is from Sense and  Sensibility (chap, xxi) and records the mode of conversation of the  Miss Steeles. These two ladies are among Miss Austen's vulgar  characters, and their speech lacks the restraint and decorum which her  better-bred personages invariably exhibit. While the Miss Steeles’ con-  versation is in sharp contrast with that of the Miss Dashwoods, with  whom they are here engaged, both in substance and manner, it evidently  passed muster among many of the associates of the latter, especially with  their cousin Sir John Middleton, in whose house, as relations of his  wife's, the Miss Steeles are staying. Apart from the vulgarity of thought,  the diction appears low when compared with that of most of Miss Austen's  characters. As a matter of fact it is largely the way of speech of the  better society of an earlier age, which has come down in the world, and  survives among a pretentious provincial bourgeoisie. What a sweet woman Lady Middleton is” said Lucy Steele . '‘And  Sir John too ” cried the elder sistei', “ what a charming man he is ! And what a charming little family they have ! I never saw such fine children  in my life. I declare I quite doat upon them already, and indeed I am  always destractedly fond of children.” "I should guess so” said Elinor  with a smile “from what I witnessed this morning.”   “I have a notion” said Lucy, “you think the little Middletons rather too  much indulged ; perhaps they may be the outside of enough ; but it is natural  in Lady Middleton; and for my part I love to see children full of life and  spirits ; I cannot bear them if they are tame and quiet”   “I confess ” replied Elinor, “that while I am at Barton Park, I never  think of tame and quiet children with any abhorrence. And how do you like Devonshire, Miss Dashwood ? (said Miss Steele)  I suppose you were very sorry to leave Sussex. In some suiyrise at the familiarity of this question, or at least in the  manner in which it was spoken, Elinor replied that she was.   “Norland is a prodigious beautiful place, is not it?” added Miss Steele,  “We have heard Sir John admire it excessively,” said Lucy, who seemed  to think some apology necessary for the freedom of her sister. “ I think     MISS LUCY STEELE    B11   every one admire it ’'replied Elinor, “who ever saw the place; though  it is not to be supposed that any one can estimate its beauties as we do."   “ And had you many smart beaux there ? I suppose you have not so many  in this part of the world ; for my part I think they are a vast addition  always."   “ But why should you think " said Lucy, looking ashamec^ of her sister,  “that there are not as many genteel young men in Devonshire as Sussex."   “ Nay, my dear, Fm sure I don’t pretend to say that there an’t. Fm sure  there ’s a vast many smart beaux in Exeter ; but you know, how could I tell  what smart beaux there might be about Norland? and I was only afraid the  Miss Dashwoods might find it dull at Barton ; if they had not so many as  they used to have. But perhaps you young ladies may not care about beaux,  and had as lief be without them as with them. For my part, I think they are  vastly agreeable, provided they dress smart and behave civil. But I can’t  bear to see them dirty and nasty. Now, there’s Rose at Exeter, a pro-  digious smart young man, quite a beau, clerk to Simpson, you know,  and yet if you do but meet him of a morning, he is not fit to be seen. I sup-  pose your brother was quite a beau, Miss Dashwood, before he married, as  he was so rich ? "   “ Upon my word," replied Elinor, “I cannot tell you, for I do not per-  fectly comprehend the meaning of the word. But this I can say, that if he  ever was a beau before he married, he is one still, for there is not the smallest  alteration in him."   “ Oh ! dear 1 one never thinks of married men’s being beaux they have  something else to do."   “Lord! Anne", cried her sister, “you can talk of nothing but beaux;  you will make Miss Dashwood believe you think of nothing else."’   It is not surprising that ‘ “ this specimen of the Miss Steeles’" was enough.  The vulgar freedom and folly of the eldest left her no recommendation  and as Elinor was not blinded by the beauty, or the shrewd look of the  youngest, to her want of real elegance and artlessness, she left the house  without any wish of knowing them better   Greetings and Farewells.   Only the slightest indication can be given of the various modes of greet-  ing and bidding farewell These seem to have been very numerous, and  less stereotyped in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries than at present. It  is not easy to be sure how soon the formulas which we now employ, or  their ancestral forms, came into current use. The same form often serves  both at meeting and parting.   In 1451, Agnes Paston records, in a letter, that "after evynsonge,  Angnes Ball com to me to my closett and dad me good evyn \ In the  account, quoted above, p. 362, given by Shillingford of his meetings  with the Chancellor, about 1447, he speaks of "saluting hym yn the  moste godely wyse that y coude ' but does not tell us the form he used.  The Chancellor, however, replies " Welcome^ ij times, and the tyme   Right met come Mayer'% and helde the Mayer a grete while faste by  the honde I   In the sixteenth century a great deal of ceremonial embracing and  kissing was in vogue. Wolsey and the King of France, according to  Cavendish, rode forward to meet each other, and they embraced each  other on horseback. Cavendish himself when he visits the castle of the  Lord of Cr^pin, a great nobleman, in order to prepare a lodging for the Cardinal, is met by this great personage, who ^ at his first coming  embraced me, saying I was right heartily welcome'. Henry VIII was  wont to walk with Sir Thomas More, ' with his arm about his neck \  The actual formula used in greeting and leave-taking is too often un-  recorded. When the French Embassy departs from England, whom  Wolsey has sb splendidly entertained, Cavendish says ' My lord, after  humble commendations had to the French King bade them adieu'. The  Earl of Shrewsbury greets the Cardinal thus ‘ My Lord, your Grace is  most heartily welcome unto me', and Wolsey replies ‘Ah my gentle  Lord of Shrewsbury, I heartily thank you '.   It is not until the appearance of plays that we find the actual forms of  greeting recorded with frequency. In Roister Doister, there are a fair  number: God heepe thee worshipful Master Roister Doister; Welcome  my good wenche ; God you saue and see Nourse ; and the reply to this  Welcome friend Merrygreeke; Good flight Roger old farewell   Roger old knaue ; well mef^ I bid you right welcome, A very favourite  greeting is God he with you,   God continue your Lordship is a form of farewell in Chapman's  Monsieur D'Olive, and God-den ‘ good evening occurs in Middleton's  Chaste Maid in Cheapside. Sir Walter Whorehoimd in the same play  makes use of the formula ‘ I embrace your acquaintance Sir \ to which  the reply is vows your service Str\ Massinger's New Way to pay  old Debts contains various formulas of greeting. I ain still your creature^  says Allworth to his step-mother Lady A. on taking leave ; of two old  domestics he takes leave with ‘ rny service to both \ and they reply ‘ ours  waits on you In reply to the simple Farewell Tom, of a friend,  All worth answers ^ All joy stay with you \ Sir Giles Overreach greets  Lord Lovel with ‘ Good day to My Lord ' ; and the prototype of the modern  how are you is seen in Lady Allworth's ‘ Hoiv dost thou Marrall P '  A graceful greeting in this play is ‘ Fou are happily encountered'.   The later seventeenth-century comedies exhibit the characteristic  urbanity of the age in their formulas of greeting and leave-taking.   ‘ A happy day to you Madam is Victoria's morning compliment to  Mrs. Goodvile in Otway's Friendship in Fashion, and that lady replies  ‘ Dear Cousin, your humble servant'. Sir Wilfull Witwoud in Congreve's  Way of the World, says ‘ Save you Gentleman and Lady ' on entering  a room. His younger brother, on meeting him, greets him with ‘ Four  servant Brother", and the knight replies ‘ servant! Why yours Sir,  Four servant again ; "s heart, and your Friend and Servant to that \  Tm everlastingly your humble servant, deuce take me Madam, says Mr. Brisk  to Lady Froth, in the Double Dealer.   Your servant is a very usual formula at this period, on joining or  leaving company. In Vanbrugh's Journey to London, Colonel Courtly  on entering is greeted by Lady Headpiece Colonel your servant; her  daughter Miss Betty varies it with^ Four servant Colonel, and the visitor  replies to both Ladies, your most ohedienL   Mr. Trim, the formal coxcomb in ShadwelFs Bury Fair, parts thus  from his friends Sir, I kiss your hands ; Mr, Wildish -S’/r your most  humble servant; Trim Oldwii I am your most faithful servant;  Mr. Oldwit Four servant sweet il/'* Trim, Four servant, madam good morrow to you, is Lady Arabella's greeting  to Lady Headpiece, who replies to you Madam (Vanbrugh's  Journey to London). The early eighteenth century appears not to  differ materially from the preceding in its usage. Lord Formal in  Fielding's Love in Several Masques, says Ladies your most humble  servafit, and Sir Apish in the same play Four Ladyships everlasting  creature^    Epistolary Formulas.   The writing of letters, both familiar and formal, is such an inevitable  part of everyday life, that it seems legitimate to include here some  examples of the various methods of beginning and ending private letters  from the early fifteenth century onwards. A proper and exhaustive  treatment of the subject would demand a rather elaborate classification,  according to the rank and status of both the writer and the recipient,  and the relation in which they stood to each other whether master  and servant, or dependant, friend, subject, child, spouse, and so on.  In the comparatively few examples here given, out of many thousands,  nothing is attempted beyond a chronological arrangement The status  and relationship of the parties is, however, given as far as possible. We  note that the formula employed is frequently a conventional and more  or less fixed phrase which recurs, with slight variants, again and again.  At other times the opening and closing phrases are of a more personal  and individual character.   1418. Archbp* Chichele to Hen. V, Signs simply: your preest and bede-  man. Ellis, i. i. 5.   142 5. IVilL Fasten to . Right worthy and worshepfull Sir. I recom-   maunde me to you, &c. Ends : Almyghty God have you in his governaunce.  Your frend unknowen. Past. Letters, i. 19-20.   1440. Agnes to Will. Fasten. Inscribed: To my worshepful housbond  W. Paston be this letter takyn. Dere housbond I reccommaunde me to yow.  Ends : The Holy Trinite have you in governaunce. P. L. . Dtike of Buckingham to Lord Beau 7 nont, Ryght worshipful and  with all my herte right enterly beloved brother, I recomaunde me to you,  thenking right hastili your good brotherhode for your gode and gentill letters.  I beseche the blissid Trinite preserve you in honor and prosperite. Your  trewe and feithfull broder H. Bukingham. P. L- i. 61-2.   1443. Margaret to John Paston. Ryth worchipful husbon, I reccomande  me to yow desyryng her tel y to her of your wilfar. Almyth God have you in  his kepyn and sendo yow helth, Yorys M. Paston. P. L. i. 48-9.   1444. James Gresham to Will. Fasten. Please it your good Lordship to  wete, &c. Ends : Wretyn right simply the Wednesday next to fore the Fest.  By your laiost symple servaunt P. L. i, 50.   1444, Duchess of Norfolk to J. Past 07 i. Ryght tmsty and entirely wel-  bclovcd we grete you wel hertily as we kan, . . and siche agrement as, &c.  ... we shall duely performe yt with the myght of Jesu who haff you in his  blissed keping. P. L. i. 57,   1444. Sir R. Ckamberlayn to Agn. Paston. Ryght worchepful cosyn,  I comand me to you. And I beseche almyty God kepe you. Your Cosyn  Sir Roger Chamberlain.   1445. Agnes to Edm. Fasten. To myn welbelovid sone. I grete you wel.  Be your Modre Angnes Paston.  COLLOQUIAL IDIOM   1449, Marg, to John Paston. Wretyn at Norwych in hast, Be your gronyng  Wyfr.-~i. 76“7-   1449. Same to sa 7 ne. No mor I wryte to ^ow atte this tyme* Your Mar-  karyte Paston. i. 42-3.   1449. John Paston, Ends : Be ^owre pore Broder* . E Its. ^ Clare to J, Paston, No raore I wrighte to 50 w at this tyme,  but Holy Cost have 50W in kepyng. Wretyn in haste on Scynt Peterys day  be candel lyght, Be your Cosyn E. C. P. L. i. 89-90.   1450. Duke of Suffolk to his son. My dear and only welbeloved sone.  Your trewe and lovynge fader Suffolk. P. L. i. 12 1-2.   1450, IVilL Lomme to J, Paston, I prey you this bille may recomaunde  me to mastrases your moder and wyfe. Wretyn yn gret hast at London.  P.L. i. 126.   1450. y. Gresham to ^ my Mats ter Whyte Esguyer\ After due recomen-  dacion I recomaund me to yow.   1450. J, Paston to above, James Gresham, I pray you labour for the, &c.  i. 145*   1450. Justice Yelverton to Sir J, Fastolf, By your old Servaunt William  Yelverton Justice. P, L. i. 166.   1453. Agnes toJ, Paston, Sone I grete you well and send you Godys  blessyng and myn. Wretyn at Norwych ... in gret hast, Be your moder  A. Paston. P. L. i. 259.   1454. J, Paston to Earl of Oxford* Youre servaunte to his powr John  Paston. P. L. i. 276,   1454. Lord Scales to J, Paston, Our Lord have you in governaunce. Your  frend The Lord Scales. P. L. i. 289.   1454, Thomas Howes to J, Paston, I pray God kepe yow. Wiyt at Castr  hastly ij day of September, Your owne T. Howes. P. L. i. 301.   1454. The same. Your chapleyn and bedeman Thomas Howes. *i. 31 8.   1455. /• PoLstolf to Duke of Norfolk, Writen at my pore place of  Castre, Your humble man and servaunt. P. L. i. 324.   1455. /. Cudworth, Bp. of Lmcoln^ to J, Patton, And Jesu preserve you,  J. Bysshopp of Lincoln.  P.L. i. 350.   1456. Archbp, Bourchier to Sir J, Fastolf, The blissid Trinitee have you  everlastingly in His keping, Written in my manoir of Lamehith, Your feith-  full and trew Th, Cant. P. L. i. 382.   1456 (Nephew to uncle). H, Fylinglay to Sir J, Fastolf Ryght wor-  shipful unkell and my ryght good master, I recomniaund me to yow wyth all  my servys. And Sir, my brother Paston and I have, &c.  Your nevew  and servaunt P. L. i. 397.   1458. John Jerningham to Marg, Paston. Nomor I wryte unto you at  this tyme. . . . Your owne umhle servant and cosyn J. J. P, L. i. 429.   1458 (Daughter to her mother). Elh, Poynings to Agn, Paston, Right  worshipful and my most entierly belovde moder, in the most lowly maner  I recomaund me unto your gode moderhode. . . . And Jesu for his grete  mercy save yow. By your humble daughter. P. L. . Chancellor and University of Oxford to Sir John Say, Ryght wor-  shipful our trusty and entierly welbeloued, after harty commendacyon. . . .  Ends : yo’-' trew and harty louers The Chancelir and Thuniversite of Oxon-  ford. Ellis.   1477. John Paston to Ms mother* Your sone and humbyll servaunt P.  P. L. iii. 176.   1481-4. Edm, Paston to Ms mother, umble son and servant.   P. L. J, Paston to Ms mother. Your sone and trwest servaunt P. h*  iii. 290.   1482. Margery Paston to her hushaftd. No more to you at this tyme, Be  your servaunt and bede woman. iii. 293, 1485. Duke of Norfolk to J, Faston. Welbelovyd frend I cummaund me  to yow.  I shall content you at your metyng with me, Yower lover J. Nor-  folk. iii. 320,   1485. Eliz, Browne to J. Paston. Your loving awnte E. B.   1485. Duke of Suffolk to f Paston, Ryght welbeloved we grete you well.  ., . Suffolk, yor frende. iii. 324-5.   1490. Bp* of Durham to Sir fohn Paston* IH2, Xps*. Rygiit wortchipful  sire, and myne especial and of long tyme apprevyd, trusty and feythful frende,  I in myne hertyeste wyse recommaunde me un to you. . ., Scribyllyd in the  moste haste, at my castel or manoir of Aucland the xxvij of Januay. Your  own trewe luffer and frende John Duresme. iii. 363.   1490. Lumen H ary son to Sir f Past on. Onerabyll and well be lov^^'d  Knythe, I commend me on to 5our masterchepe and to my lady 5owyr wyffe.  ., . No mor than God be wyth 50W, L. H. at ^ouyr comawndment.   1503. Q. Margaret of Scotland to her father Hen. VII. My moste dere  iorde and fader in the most humble wyse that I can thynke I recommaunde  me unto your Grace besechyng you off your dayly blessyngys. . . . Wrytyn  wyt the hand of your humble douter Margaret. Ellis i. i. 43.   Hen. VI J to his Mother.^ the Countess of Richmond. Madam, my most  enterely wilbeloved Lady and Moder . . . with the hande of youre most  humble and lovynge sone. Ellis, i. i. 43-5.   Margaret to Hen. VI 1 . My oune suet and most deare kynge and all my  worldly joy, yn as humble manner as y can thynke I recommand me to your  Grace ... by your feythful and trewe bedewoman, and humble modyr Mar-  garet R, Ellis Q. Margaret oj Scotland to Hen. VI IL Richt excellent, richt hie  and mithy Prince, our derrist and best belovit Brothir. . . . Your louyn systar  Margaret. Ellis, i. i. 65. (The Queen evidently employed a Scottish Secre-  tary.)   1515. Margaret to Wolsey. Yours Margaret R. Ellis, i. i. 131.   1515. Thos. Lord Howard, Lord Admiral, to Wolsey. My owne gode  Master Awlmosner. . . . Scrybeled in gret hast in the Mary Rose at Plymouth  half o^' after xj at night . . . y^ own Thomas Howard.   . West Bp. of Ely to Wolsey. Myne especiall good Lorde in my  most humble wise I recommaund me to your Grace besechyng you to con-  tynue my gode Lorde, and I schall euer be as I am bounden your dayly  bedeman. . . . Y^ chapelayn and bedman N 1 . Elien.   c. 1520. Archbp. Warham to Wolsey. Please ityo^ moost honorable Grace  to understand. ... At your Graces commaundement, Willm. Cantuar.  Ellis, iii. I. 230. Also : Euer, your own Willm. Cantuar.   Langland Bp. of Lincoln to Wolsey. My bownden duety mooste lowly  remembrede unto Your good Grace. . . . Yo^ moste humble bedisman John  Lincoln. Ellis, iii. l. 248.   Cath, of Aragon to Princess Mary. Doughter, I pray you thinke not, &c.  Ellis. . Your lovyng mother Katherine the Queue.   Archibald, E. of Angus. Addresses letter to Wolsey : To my lord Car-  dinallis grace of Ingland. Ellis, iii. i. 291.   1521. Bp. Tunstal to Wolsey. Addresses letter : to the most reverend  fader in God and his most singler good Lorde Cardinal. Ellis, iii. i* 273.   Ends a letter : By your Gracys most humble bedeman Cuthbert TunstalL  Ellis -   . Duke of Buckingham to Wolsey, Yorys to my power  E. Bukyngham.   Gccvin Douglas, Bp. of Dunkeld, to Wolsey. ZgI chaplan wy^ his lawfull  seruyse Gavin bischop of Dunkeld. Ellis, iii. i. 294- Zo^ humble servytor  and Chaplein of Dunkeld. Ellis, iii. i. 296. Zo^ humble seruytor and  dolorous Chaplan of Dunkeld. Ellis, iii. i. 303-   Wolsey to Gardiner {afterwards Bp. of Winchester)* Ends : Your assurjd  lover and bedysman T. Car^s Ebor. Ellis, i. 2. 6. Again : Wryttyn hastely  at Asher with the rude and shackyng hand of your dayly bedysman and  assuryd frende T. Car^^® Ebor.   1532. T/ios, AudUy {Lord Keeper) to CromwelL Yo^' assured to his litell  Thomas Audeley Gustos Sigiili.   Edw. E, of Hertford {afterwards Lord Protector). Thus I comit you to  God hoo send yo^‘ lordshep as well to far as I would mi selfe . . . w^ the hand  of yo^ lordshepis assured E. Hertford.   Hen. VI 11 to Catherine Parr. No more to you at thys tyme swethart  both for lacke off tyme and gret occupation off bysynes, savyng we pray you  in our name our harte blessyngs to all our chyldren, and recommendations to  our cousin Marget and the rest off the laddis and gentyll women and to our  Consell alsoo. Wryttyn with the hand off your lovyng howsbande Henry R.  Ellis, i. 2. 130.   Princess Mary to CromwelL Marye Princesse. Maister Cromwell I  commende me to you. Ellis, i. 2. 24,   Prince Edward to Catherine Parr. Most honorable and entirely beloued  mother. . . . Your Grace, whom God have ever in his most blessed keping.  Your louing sonne, E. Prince. Ellis, i. 2. 13 1.   . Henry Radclyf E. of Sussex, to his wife. Madame with most  lovyng and hertie commendations. Ellis, i. 2. 137.   Princess Elizabeth to Ediv. VI. Your Maiesties humble sistar to com-  maundement Elizabeth. Ellis, i. 2. 146 ; Your Maiesties most humble sistar  Elizabeth. Ellis   Princess Elizabeth to Lord Protector. Your assured frende to my litel  power Elizabeth. Ellis, i. 2. 158.   Edward VI to Lord Protector Somerset. Derest Uncle. . . • Your good  neuew Edward. Ellis, ii. i. 148.   Q.Mary to Lord Admiral Seymour. Your assured frende to my power  Marye. Ellis, i. 2. 153.   Princess Elizabeth to Q. Mary (on being ordered to the Tower). Your  Highnes most faithful subjec that hath bine from the begining and wyl be to  my ende, Elizabeth. (Transcr. of 1732). Ellis, ii. 2. 257.   , Princess Elizabeth to the Lords of the Council. Your verye lovinge  frende, Elizabeth- Ellis, ii. 2. 213.   1554, Henry Darnley to Q. Mary of England. Your Maiesties moste  bounden and obedient subjecte and servant Henry Darnley.   Queen Dowager to Lord Admiral Seymour. By her ys and schalbe  your humble true and lovyng wyffe duryng her lyf Kateryn the Quenc. Ellis,  i. 2. 152.   Q. Mary to Marquis of Winchester, Your Mystresse assured Marye the  Queue. -Ellis, ii. 2. 252.   Sir John Grey of Pyrgo to Sir William Cecil. It is a great while me  thinkethe, Cowsine Cecill, since I sent unto you. ... By your lovyng cousin  and assured frynd John Grey. Ellis, ii, 2. 73-4; Good cowsyne Cecil!. ., .  By yo^ lovyng Cousine and assured pouer frynd dowring lyfe John Grey.  Ellis, ii. 2. 276.   Lady Catherine Grey, Cmmtess of Hertford, to Sir W, Cecil. Good cosyne  Cecill . . . Your assured frend and cosyne to my small power Katheryne  Hartford. Ellis, ii. 2. 278 ; Your poore cousyne and assured frend to my  small power Katheryne Hartford. Ellis, ii. 2. 287.   1564. Sir W. Cecil to Sir Thos. Smith. Your assured for ever W. Cecill.  Ellis, ii. 2. 295 ; Yours assured W. Cecill Ellis, ii, 2. 297 ; Your assured  to command W, Cecill Ellis, ii. 2, 300.   1 566. Duchess of Somerset to Sir W. Cecil. Good M^ Secretary, yf I have  let you alone all thys whyle I pray you to thynke yt was to tary for my L, of  Leycesters assistans. ... I can nomore . ., and so do leave you to God Yo’^  assured lovyng frynd Anne Somerset, Ellis, ii. 288. Christopher Jonson, Master of Winchester^ to Sir W, CeciL Right  honourable my duetie with all humblenesse consydered. . . . Your honoures  most due to commando, Christopher Jonson. Ellis, ii. 2. 313.   1569. Lacfy Stanhope to Sir W, CeciL Right honorable, my humble  dewtie premised. . . . Your honors most humblie bound Anne Stanhope.  Ellis, il 2. 324.,   1574. Sir Philip Sidney to the E. of Leicester, Righte Honorable and my  singular good Lorde and Uncle. . . . Your L. most obedi. . ., Philip Sidney.  Works, p. 345.   1576. Sir Philip Sidney to Sir Francis Walsingham, Righte Honorable  ... I most humbly recommende my selfe unto yow, and leaue yow to the  Eternals most happy protection, ., . Yours humbly at commawndement  Philipp Sidney.   1578. Sir Philip Sidney to Edward Molineux^ Esq. (Secretary to Sir H.  Sidney), Molineux, Few words are best My letters to my father have  come to the eyes of some. Neither can I condemn any but you. . . . (The  writer assures M. that if he reads any letter of his to his father ^ without his  commandment or my consent, I will thrust my dagger into you. And trust  to it, for I speak it in earnest’. . . .) In the meantime farewell. From court  this last of May 1 578, By me Philip Sidney. p. 328.   1580. Sir Philip Sidney to his brother Robert. My dear Brother . . .  God bless you sweet boy and accomplish the joyful hope I conceive of you., . . Lord I how I have babbled : once again farewell dearest brother. Your  most loving and careful brother Philip Sidney.   1582. Thomas Watson ^ To the frendly Reader^ (in Passionate Centurie of  Love). Courteous Reader, . . and so, for breuitie sake  aprubtlie make and  end ; committing the to God, and my worke to thy fauour. Thine as thou  art his, Thomas Watson.   Anne of Denmark to James L Sir ... So kissing your handes I remain  she that will ever love Yow best, Anna R. Ellis, i. 3. 97.   c. 1585. Sir Philip to Walsingham. Sir, . . your louing cosin and frend.  In several letters to Walsingham Sidney signs *your humble Son’. ^   1586. Wm. Webbe to Ma. (= ^ Master ’) Edward Sulyard Esquire (Dedi-  catory Epistle to the Discourse of English Poetrie). May it please you Syr,  thys once more to beare with my rudenes, &c. ... I rest, Your worshippes  faithfull Seruant W. W.   1593. Edward Alleyn to his wife. My good sweete mouse . . . and so  swett mouse farwell. Mem. of Edw. Alleyn, L 36; my good sweetharte and  loving mouse . . . thyn ever and no bodies else by god of heaven. ibid.   , Thos., Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of Dorset^ to Sir Robert  CeciL Sir . . . Your very lo: frend T. Buckhurst.   1 , Sir W. Raleigh to Cecil. S*^ I humblie thanke yow for your letter ., .  S^ I pray love vs in your element and wee will love and honor yow in ours  and every wher. And remayne to be comanded by yow for evermore  W Ralegh.   1602. Same to same. Good Secretary. . . . Thus I rest, your very  loving and assured frend T, Buckhurst, Works, xxxiv-xi.   1603. Same to same. My very good Lord. . ♦ . So I rest as you know,  Ever yours T. Buckurst   1605, Same to same. ... I pray God for your health and for mine own  and so rest Ever yours ...   1607. Same to the University of Oxford. Your very loving friend and  Chancellor T. Dorset xlvi.   cr. . Sir Menry Wotton to Henry Prince of Wales. Youre zealous  pooie servant H. W. Ellis, i. 3* loo.   Q. Anne of Denmark to Sir George Villiers (afterwards Duke of Buc-  kingham). My kind Dog. # • . So wishing you all happiness Anna R.  Ellis, i. 3, ICO. Charles Duke of York to Prince Heniy. Most loving Brother  I long to see you, . . . Your H. most loving brother and obedient servant,  Charles. Ellis, i. 3. 96.   1612. Prince Charles to James L Your most humble and most   obedient sone and servant Charles. Ellis, i. 3. 102.   Same to Viljiers. Steenie, There is none that knowes me so well as your-  self. ., . Your treu and constant loving frend Charles P. Ellis, i. 3. 104.   King Jaynes to Buckingham or to Prince Charles, My onlie sweete and  deare chylde I pray thee haiste thee home to thy deare dade by sunne setting  at the furthest. Ellis, i. 3. 120.   Sa 7 ne to Buckingham, My Steenie. . . . Your clear dade, gosseppe and  stewarde.  Ellis, i. 3, 159.   Same to both. Sweet Boyes. . . . God blesse you both my sweete babes,  and sende you a safe and happie returne, James R. Ellis, i. .   Prmce Charles a?id Buckingham to James, Y’our Majesties most humble  and obedient sone and servant Charles, and your humble slave and doge  Steenie.Ellis, Buckingham to James. Dere Dad, Gossope and Steward. . . • Your  Majestyes most humble slave and doge Steenie. Ellis, i, 3. 146-7.   1623. Lord Herbert to James, Your Sacred Majesties most obedient,  most loyal, and most affectionate subjecte and servant, E. Herbert   The letters of Sir John Suckling (Works, ii, Reeves et Turner) are  mostly undated, but one to Davenant has the date 1629, and another to  Vane that of 1632.   The general style is more modern in tone than those of any of the  letters so far referred to. (See on Suckling’s style, pp. 152-3.) The  beginnings and endings, too, closely resemble and are sometimes identical  with those of our own time.   To Davenant, Vane, and several other persons of both sexes, Suckling  signs simply ^ Your humble servant J. S.’, or 'J. Suckling’. At least  two, to a lady, end * Your humblest servant The letter to Davenant  begins ‘WilL; that to Vane ‘Right Honorable’. Several letters  begin ‘ Madam ‘ My Lord one begins ‘ My noble friend another  ‘ My Noble Lord several simply ‘ Sir The more fanciful letters,  to Aglaura, begin ‘ Dear Princess ’, ‘ Fair Princess ’, ‘ My clear Dear  ‘ When I consider, my dear Princess ’, &c. One to a cousin begins  ‘ Honest Charles   The habit of rounding off the concluding sentence of a letter so that  the valedictory formula and the writer’s name form an organic part of it,  a habit very common in the eighteenth century in Miss Burney, for  instance is found in Suckling’s letters. For example : ‘ I am still the   humble servant of my Lord that 1 was, and when I cease to be so,   I must cease to be John Suckling’; ‘yet could never think myself  unfortunate, while I can write myself Aglaura her humble servant ’ ; ‘ and  should you leave that lodging, more wretched than Montferrat needs  must be your humble servant J. S.’, and so on.   The longwindedness and prolixity wiiich generally distinguish the  openings and closings of letters of the fifteenth and the greater part of  the sixteenth century, begin to disappear before the end of the latter  period. Suckling is as neat and concise as the letter-writers of the  eighteenth century. ‘Madam, your most humble and faithful servant'  might serve for Dr. Johnson.  Most of our modern formulas were in use before the end of the first  half of the seventeenth century, though some of the older phrases still  survive. But we no longer find " I commend me unto your good master-  ship, beseeching the Blessed Trinity to have you in his governance and  such-like lengthy introductions. The Correspondence of Dr. Basire (see  pp. 163-4) is very instructive, as it covers the period from 1634 to 1675,  by which latter date letters have practically reached their modern form.  Dr. Basire writes in 1635-6 to Miss Frances Corbet, his fiancee, 'Deare  Fanny ^ Deare Love ^ ^ Love and ends ' Your most faithfuil frend J. B.',  'Thy faithful frend and loving servaunt J. B.", 'Your assured frend  and loving well-wisher J. B/, 'Your ever iouing frend J. B.' When  Miss Corbet has become his wife, he constantly writes to her in his  exile which lasted from 1640 to 1661, letters which apart from our present  purpose possess great human and historical interest. These letters generally  begin ' My Dearest', and ' My deare Heart', and he signs himself ' Your  very Iouing husband', 'Yours, more than ever', 'Your faithful husband',  ' My dearest. Your faithful friend ', ' Yours till death ' Meanewhile assure  your selfe of the constant love of My dearest  ^Your loyall husband   The lady to whom these affectionate letters were addressed, bore with  wonderful patience and cheerfulness the anxieties and sufferings incident  upon a state bordering on absolute want caused by her husband's depriva-  tion of his living under the Commonwealth, his prolonged absence, together  with the cares of a family of young children, and very indifferent health.  She was a woman of great piety, and in her letters ‘ many a holy text  around she strews ' in reply to the religious soliloquies of her husband. Her  letters all begin ' My dearest ’, and they often begin and close with pious  exclamations and phrases 'Yours as much as euer in the Lord, No, more  thene euer ' ; ' My dearest, I shall not faile to looke thos plases in the  criptur, and pray for you as becometh your obedient wife and serunt in  the Lord F. B. ’ ; another letter is headed ' Jesu 1 and ends  ' I pray God  send vs all a happy meting, I ham your faithful in the Lord, F. B.'  Many of the letters are headed with the Sacred Name. Others of  Mrs. Basire's letters end 'Farwall my dearest, I ham yours faithful  for euer'; 'I euer remine Yours faithfuil in the Lord'; 'So with my  dayly prayers to God for you, I desire to remene your faithfuil loveing  and obedient wif '.   It may be worth while to give a few examples of beginnings and ends  of letters from other persons in the Basire Correspondence, to illustrate  the usage of the latter part of the seventeenth century.   These letters mostly bear, in the nature of an address, long superscrip-  tions such as 'To the Reverend and ever Honoured Doctour Basire,  Prebendary of the Cathedral Church in Durham. To be recommended  to the Postmaster of Darneton' (p. 213, dated 1662).   This letter, from Prebendary Wrench of Durham, begins ' Sir and  ends ' Sir, Your faithfuil and unfeigned humble Servant R. W.'   In the same year the Bishop of St. David's begins a letter to Dr. Basire   ' Sir and ends ' Sir, youre uerie sincere friend and seruant, Wil.  St, David's,   The Doctor's son begins ' Reverend Sir, and most loving Father '  and ends with the same formula, adding ' Your very obedient Son, P. B ^   p. 221. To his Bishop (of Durham) Dr. Basire begins 'Right Rev.  Father in God, and my very good Lord ending ' I am still, My L<i,  Your Lp 3 . faithfull Servant Isaac Basire’. In 1666 the Bishop of Carlisle,  Dr. Rainbow, evidently an old friend of Dr. B/s, begins 'Good  Mr. Archdeacon and ends ' I commend you and yours to God’s grace  and remaine,'Your very faithfull frend Edw, Carlioi’, p. 254.   In 1668 the Bishop of Durham begins ' M^ Archdeacon ’ and ends ' In  the interim I shall not be wanting at this distance to doe all I can, who  am, Sir, Your very loving ffriend and servant TJo. Duresme', p. 273.  Dr. Barlow, Provost of Queen’s, begins 'My Reverend Friend’, and  ends ‘Your prayers are desired for, Sir, Your affectionate friend and  Seruant, Tho. Barlow’. Dr. Basire begins a letter to  this gentleman  ‘ Rev. Sir and my Dear Friend ’ . ., ending ' I remain,  Reverend Sir, Your affectionate frend, and faithful servant To his  son Isaac, he writes in 1664 'Beloved Son’, ending ‘So prays your  very lovinge and painfull Father, Isaac Basire ’.   Having now brought our examples of the various types of epistolary  formulas down to within measurable distance of our own practice, we  must leave this branch of our subject. Space forbids us to examine and illus-  trate here the letters of the eighteenth century, but this is the less necessary  as these are very generally accessible. The letters of that age, formal or  intimate, but always so courteous in their formulas, are known to most  readers. Some allusion has already been made (pp. 20-1) to the tinge of  ceremoniousness in address, even among friends, which survives far into  the eighteenth century, and may *be seen in the letters of Lady Mary  Montagu, of Gray, and Horace Walpole, while as late as the end of the  century we find in the letters of Cowper, unsurpassed perhaps among  this kind of literature for grace and charm, that combination of stateliness  with intimacy which has now long passed away.  Exclamations, Expletives, Oaths, &e.   Under these heads comes a wide range of expressions, from such as  are mere exclamations with little or no meaning for him who utters or  for him who hears them, or words and phrases added, by way of emphasis,  to an assertion, to others of a more formidable character which are  deliberately uttered as an expression of spleen, disappointment, or rage,  with a definitely blasphemous or injurious intention. In an age like  ours, where good breeding, as a rule, permits only exclamations of the  mildest and most meaningless kind, to express temporary annoyance,  disgust, surprise, or pleasure, the more full-blooded utterances of a former  age are apt to strike u$ as excessive. Exclamations which to those who  used them meant no more than ' By Jove ’ or ' my word ’ do to us, would  now, if they were revived appear almost like rather blasphemous irreve-  rence. It must be recognized, however, that swearing, from its mildest  to its most outrageous forms, has its own fashions. These vary from  age to age and from class to class. In every age there are expressions  which are permissible among well-bred people, and others which are not.  In certain circles an expression may be regarded with dislike, not so much because of any intrinsic wickedness attributed to it, as merely  because it is vulgar. Thus there are many sections of society at the  present time where such an expression as ‘ O Crikey * is not in use. No  one would now pretend that in its present form, whatever may underlie  it, this exclamation is peculiarly blasphemous, but many persons would  regard it with disfavour as being merely rather silly and distinctly  vulgar. It is not a gentleman’s expression. On the other hand, ^ Good  Heavens \ or ^ Good Gracious \ while equally innocuous in meaning and  intention, would pass muster perhaps, except among those who object, as  many do, to anything more forcible than ‘ dear me \   Human nature, even when most restrained, seems occasionally to  require some meaningless phrase to relieve its sudden emotions, and the  more devoid of all association with the cause of the emotion the better  will the exclamation serve its purpose. Thus some find solace in such  a formula as ‘ O liitle haiC which has the advantage of being neither  particularly funny nor of overstepping the limits of the nicest decorum,  unless indeed these be passed by the mere act of expressing any emotion  at all. It is really quite beside the mark to point out that utterances of  this kind are senseless. It is of the very essence of such outbursts the  mere bubbles on the fountain of feeling ^that they are quite unrelated  to any definite situation. There is a certain adjective, most offensive to  polite ears, which plays apparently the chief r 61 e in the vocabulary of  large sections of the community. It seems to argue a certain poverty  of linguistic resource when we find that this word is used by the same  speakers both to mean absolutely nothing being placed before every  noun, and often adverbially before all adjectives and also to mean a  great deal everything indeed that is unpleasant in the highest degree.  It is rather a curious fact that the word in question while always impos-  sible, except perhaps when used as it were in inverted commas, in such  a way that the speaker dissociates himself from all responsibility for, or  proprietorship in it, would be felt to be father more than ordinarily  intolerable, if it were used by an otherwise polite speaker as an absolutely  meaningless adjective prefixed at random to most of the nouns in a sen-  tence, and worse than if it were used deliberately, with a settled and full  intent. There is something very terrible in an oath torn from its proper  home and suddenly implanted in the wrong social atmosphere. In these  circumstances the alien form is endowed by the hearers with mysterious  and uncanny meanings ; it chills the blood and raises gooseflesh. We do not propose here to penetrate into the sombre history of  blasphemy proper, nor to exhibit the development through the last few  centuries of the ever-changing fashions of profanity. At every period  there has been, as Chaucer knew a companye   Of yonge folk, that haunteden folye,   As ryot, hasard, stewes and tavemes, Wher-as with harpes, lutes and gitemes, They daunce and pleye at dees both day and night,   And ete also and drinken over hit might,   Thurgh which they doon the devel sacrifyse  Within the develes tempel in cursed wyse,   By superfiuitee abhominable;   c c 2   Hir othes been so grete and so dampnable^   That it is grisly for to here hem swere;   Our blissed lordes body they to-tere;   Hem though te Jewes rent him noght y-nough.   We are concerned, for the most part, with the milder sort of expres-  sions which serve to decorate discourse, without symbolizing any strong  feeling on the part of those who utter them. Some of the expletives  which in former ages were used upon the slightest occasion, would  certainly appear unnecessarily forcible for mere exclamations at the  present day, and the fact that such expressions were formerly used so  lightly, and with no blasphemous intention, shows how frequent must  have been their employment for familiarity to have robbed them of all  meaning.   So saintly a person as Sir Thomas More was accustomed, according  to the reports given of his conversation by his son-in-law, to make use  of such formulas as a Gods name^ p. xvi ; would to God, ibid. ; in good  faith, xxviii, but compared with some of the other personages mentioned  in his Life, he is very sparing of such phrases. The Duke of Norfolk,  ‘his singular deare friend*, coming to dine with Sir Thomas on one  occasion, ‘ fortuned to find him at Church singinge in the quiere with  a surplas on his backe ; to whome after service, as the(y) went home  togither arme in arme, the duke said, “ God body, God body, My lord  Chauncellor, a parish Clark, a parish Clarke ! On another occasion the same Duke said to him ^ By the Masse,  Moore, it is perillous strivinge with Princes ... for Gode's body,  Moore, Indignatio principis mors est *, p. xxxix. In the conversation  in prison, with his wife, quoted above, p. 364, we find that the good  gentlewoman ‘ after her accustomed fashion * gives vent to such exclama-  tions as ‘ What the goody ear e Moore ' : ‘ Tille mile, tille vallc ' ; ^ Bone   deus, hone Deus man \ ‘ I muse what a Gods name you meane here thus  fondly to tarry*. At the trial of Sir Thomas More, the Lord Chief  Justice swears by St, Julian  ‘ that was ever his oath p. li.   ‘ Tilly folly, Sir John, ne’er tell me and ‘ What the good year ! ' are  both also said by Mrs. Quickly in Henry IV, Pt. II, ii. 4. Marry, which  means no more than ‘ indeed *, was a universally used expletive in the  sixteenth century, Roper uses it in speaking to More, Wolsey uses it,  according to Cavendish ; it is frequent in Roister Doister, and is con-  stantly in the mouths of Sir John Falstaff and his merry companions.  By sweete Sanct Anne, by cocke, by gog, by cocks precious potsiick, kocks  nownes, by the armes of Caleys, and the more formidable by the passion of  God Sir do not so, all occur in Roister Doister, and further such exclama-  tions as O Lords, hoigh dagh !, I dare sweare, I shall so God me saue,  I make God a vow (also written avow), would Christ I had, &c. Meaning-  less imprecations like the Devil take me, a mischiefe take his token and him  and thee too are sprinkled about the dialogue of this play. The later plays  of the great period offer a mine of material of this kind, but only a few  can be mentioned here. What a Devil (instead of the Devil), what a pox,  hfr lady, bounds, d blood, Gods body, by the mass, a plague on thee, are  among the expressions in the First Part of Henry IV, In the Second  Part Mr. Justice Shallow swears by cock and pie. By the side of these  are mild formulas such as Tm a Jew else^ Tm a rogue if I drink today.   In Chapman’s comedies there is a rich sprinkling both of the slighter  forms of exclamatory phrases, as well as of the more serious kind. Of  the former we may note j/ faitk^ Ur lord^ Ur lady, by the Lord, How the  divell (instead of how a devil), all in A Humorous Day's Mirth ; He he  sworne, All Fooles; of the latter kind of expression Gods precious soles.,  H. D. M. ; sjoot, shodie, God^s my life, Mons. D'Olive ; Gods my passion,  H. D. M. ; swounds, zwoundes, Gentleman Usher.   Massinger's New Way to pay old Debts has 'slight, 'sdeath, and a fore-  shadowing of the form of asseveration so common in the later seventeenth  century in the phrase ‘ If I know the mystery may I perish ii. 2,   It is to the dramatists of the later seventeenth and early eighteenth  century that the curious inquirer will go for expletives and exclamatory  expressions of the greatest variety. Otway, Congreve, and Vanbrugh  appear to excel all their predecessors and contemporaries in the fertility  of their invention in this respect. It is indeed probable that while some  of the sayings of Mr. Caper, my Lady Squeamish, my Lady Plyant,  my Lord Foppington, and others of their kidney, are the creations of the  writers who call these ' strange pleasant creatures ' into existence, many  others were actually current coin among the fops and fine ladies of the  period. Even if many phrases used by these characters are artificial con-  coctions of the dramatists they nevertheless are in keeping with, and  express the spirit and manners of the age. If Mr. Galsworthy or  Mr. Bernard Shaw were to invent corresponding slang at the present  day, it would be very different from that of the so-called Restoration  Dramatists. The bulk of the following selection of expletives and oaths is  taken from the plays of Otway, Congreve, Wycherley, Mrs. Aphra Behn,  Vanbrugh, and Farquhar. A few occur in Shadwell, and many more  are common to all writers of comedies. These are undoubtedly genuine  current expressions some of which survive.   Among the more racy and amusing are :   Ld me die : ‘ Let me die your Ladyship obliges me beyond expression*  (Mr. Saunter in Otway's Friendship in Fashion) ; ^ Let me die, you have  a great deal of wit' (Lady Froth, Congreve's Double Dealer); also  much used by Melantha, an affected lady in Dryden's Marriage \ la   Mode. . . 1   Ld me perish ‘ I'm your humble servant let me perish ' (Brisk, Double   Dealer) ; also used by Wycherley, Love in a Wood.   ^le (Vanbrugh's Relapse),   Death and eternal iartures Sir, I vow the packet's (= pocket) too high  (Lord Foppington),   Burn me if I do (Farquhar, Way to win him).   Mai me, ^ rat my packet handkerchief (Lord Foppington).   Never Never stir if it did not' (Caper, Otway, Friendship in   Love) ; * Thou shalt enjoy me always, dear, dear friend, never stir '•   BU take my death you're handsomer ' (Mrs. Millamont, Congreve, Way   of the World).,   Bm a Person (Lady Wishfort, Way of the World). Stap my vitals (Lord Foppington ; very frequent).   Split my wmdpipe Lord Foppington gives his brother his blessing, on  finding that the latter has married by a trick the lady he had designed  for himself 'You have married a woman beautiful in her person,  charming in her airs, prudent in her canduct, canstant in her inclina-  tions, and of a nice marality split my windpipe   As I hope to breathe (Lady Lurewell, Farquhar, Sir Harry Wildair),   Tm a Dog if do (Wittmore in Mrs. Behn’s Sir Patient Fancy).   By the Universe (Wycherley, Country Wife).   I swear and declare (Lady Plyant) ; / swear and vow (Sir Paul Plyant,  Double Dealer) ; I do protest and vow (Sir Credulous Easy, Aphra Behn’s  Sir Patient Fancy) ; I protest I swoon at ceremony (Lady Fancyfull,  Vanbrugh, Provok'd Wife) ; 1 profess ingenuously a very discreet young  man (Mrs, Aphra Behn, Sir Patient Fancy).   Gads my hfe (Lady Plyant).   O Crimine (Lady Plyant).   O Jeminy (Wycherley, Mrs. Pinchwife, Country Wife).   Gad take me, between you and I, I was deaf on both ears for three  weeks after (Sir Humphrey, Shadwell, Bury Fair).   ril lay my Life he deserves your assistance (Mrs. Sullen, Farquhar,  Beaux' Strategem).   By the Lord Harry (Sir Jos. Wittol, Congreve, Old Bachelor).  the universe (Wycherley, Mrs. Pinchwife, Country Wife).   Gadzooks (Heartfree, Vanbrugh, Provok'd Wife) ; Gadt s Bud (Sir Paul  Plyant, Double Dealer) ; Gud soons (Lady Arabella, Vanbrugh, Journey  to London) ; Marry-gep (Widow Blackacre, Wycherley, Plain Dealer) ;  ^sheart (Sir Wilful, Congreve, Way of the World) ; Eh Gud, eh Gud  (Mrs. Fantast, Shadwell, Bury Fair); Zoz I was a modest fool; ads^-  zoz (Sir Credulous Easy, Devonshire Knight, Aphra Behn, Sir  Petulant Fancy); 'D's diggers Sir (a groom in Sir Petulant Fancy);  ^sheart (Sir Wilf. Witwoud, Congreve, Way of the World); odsheart  (Sir Noble Clumsey, Otway, Friendship in Fashion); Adsheart (fkx Jos,  Wittol, Congreve, Old Bachelor) ; Gadswouns (Oldfox, Plain Dealer).  By the side of marry, frequent in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,  the curious expression Marry come up my dirty cousin occurs in Swift's  Polite Conversations (said by the young lady), and again in Fielding's  Tom Jones said by the lady's maid Mrs. Honor. With this compare  marry gep above, which probably stands for ' go up   Such expressions as Lard are frequent in the seventeenth-century  comedies, and the very modern-sounding as sure as a gun is said by  Sir Paul Plyant in the Double Dealer.   The comedies of Dryden contain but few of the more or less mild, and  fashionable, semi-bantering exclamatory expressions which enliven the  pages of many of his contemporaries ; he sticks on the whole to the more  permanent oaths 'sdeath, ^sblood, &c. It must be allowed that the  dialogue of Dry den's comedies is inferior to that of Otway or Congreve  in brilliancy and natural ease, and that it probably does not reflect the  familiar colloquial English of the period so faithfully as the conversation  in the works of these writers. Dryden himself says, in the Defense of  the Essay of Dramatic Poesy, ' I know I am not so fitted by Nature to write Comedy : 1 want that Gaiety of Flumour which is required to it.  My Conversation is slow and dull, my Humour Saturnine and reserv’d :  In sliortj I am none of those who endeavour to break all Jests in Com-  pmy, or make Repartees   It may be noted that the frequent use almost in ever;^ sentence of  such phrases as A/ me perish, hum me, and other meaningless interjec-  tions of this order, is attributed by the dramatists only to the most  frivolous fops and the most affected women of fashion. The more  serious characters, so far as such exist in the later seventeenth-century  comedies, aie addicted rather to the weightier and more sober sort of  swearing. It is perhaps unnecessary to pursue this subject beyond the*  first third of the eighteenth century. Farquhar has many of the manner-  isms of his slightly older contemporaries, and some stronger expressions,  e. g. ‘ There was a neighbour's daughter I had a woundy kindness for  Truman, in Twin Rivals ; but Fielding in his numerous comedies has  but few of the objurgatory catchwords of the earlier generation. Swearing,  both of the lighter kind as well as of the deliberately profane variety,  appears to have diminished in intensity, apart from the stage country  squire, suc h as Squire Badger in Don Quixote, who says ^ShodUkins and  ecod, and Squire Western, whose artless profanity is notorious. Ladies  in these plays, and in Swift's Polite Conversations, still say lard, O Ltid,  and la, and mercy, ^shuhs, God bless my eyesight, but the rich variety of  expression which we find in Lady Squeamish and her friends has  vanished. Some few of the old mouth-filling oaths, such as zounds,  ^sdeath, and so on, still linger in Goldsmith and Sheridan, but the number  of these available for a gentleman was very limited by the end of the  century. From the beginning of the nineteenth century it would seem  that nearly all the old oaths died out in good society, as having come to  be considered, from unfamiliarity, either too profane or else too devoid  of content to serve any purpose. It seems to be the case that the serious  oaths survive longest, or at any rate die hardest, while each age produces  its own ephemersil formulas of mere light expletive and asseveration.    Hyperbole ; Compliments ; Approval ; Disapproval ; Abuse,   Very characteristic of a particular age is the language of hyperbole  and exaggeration as found in phrases expressive on the one hand of  compliments, pleasure, approval, amusement, and so on, and of disgust,  dislike, anger, and kindred emotions, on the other. Incidentally, the  study of the different modes of expressing such feelings as these leads  us also to observe the varying fashion in intensives, corresponding to the  present-day awfully, frightfully, and the rest, and in exaggeration generally,  especially in paying compliments.   The following illustrations are chiefly drawn from the seventeenth  century, which offers a considerable wealth of material.   It is wonderful what a variety of expressions have been in use, more  or less transitorily, at different periods, as intensives, meaning no more  than i>iry, very much, &c. Rarely in Chapman^s Gentleman Usher  ^How did you like me aunt? 0 rarely, rarely \ ^Oh lord, that, that is a pleasure intolerahU \ Lady Squeamish in Otway’s Friendship in Love ;  ‘Let me die if that was not extravaganily pleasant vtry amusing),  ibid. ; ^ I vow he himself sings a tune extreme prettily \ ibid. : ‘ I love  dancing immoderately \ ibid. ; ‘ O dear ’tis violent hot \ ibid. ; ‘ Deuce take  me if your Ladyship has not the art of surprising the most naturally in  the world I hope you'll make me happy in communicating the Poem  Brisk in Congreve's Double Dealer ; ‘With the reserve of my Honour,  I aSvSure you Careless, I don't know anything in the World I would  refuse to a Person so meritorious You’ll pardon my want of expression',  Lady Plyant in Double Dealer; to which Careless replies ‘O your  “Xadyship is abounding in all Excellence^ particularly that of Phrase ; My  Lady Froth is very well in her Accomplishments But it is when my  Lady Plyant is not thought of if that can ever be ' ; Lady Plyant :  ‘O you overcome me That is so excessive' ; Brisk, asked to write notes  to Lady Froth's Poems, cries ‘ With all my Heart and Soul, and proud of  the vast Honour let me perish ‘ I swear Careless you are very  alluring^ and say so many fine Things, and nothing is so moving as a fine  Thing. ., . Well, sure if I escape your Importunities, I shall value myself  as long as I live, I swear ; Lady Plyant. The following bit of dialogue  between Lady Froth and Mr. Brisk illustrates the fashionable mode of  bandying exaggerated, but i*ather hollow compliments.   ‘ Ldy P. Ah Gallantry to the last degree Brisk was ever anything so  well bred as My Lord ? Brisk Never anything but your Ladyship let me  perish. Ldy F, O prettily turned again ; let me die but you have a great  deal of Wit. Mellefont don^t you think Brisk has a World of Wit ?  MeUefont O yes Madam. Brisk O dear Madam  Ldy F» An mfinite  deal! Brisk, O Heaven Madam. 'Ldy F. More Wit than Body.  Brisk Pm everlastingly your humble Servant^ deuce take me Madam.   Lady Fancyful in Vanbrugh’s Provok'd Wife contrives to pay herself  a pretty compliment in lamenting the ravages of her beauty and the con-  sequent pretended annoyance to herself ‘ To confess the truth to you,  Fm so everlastingly fatigued with the addresses of unfortunate gentlemen  that were it not for the extravagancy of the example, I should e'en tear  out these wicked eyes with my own fingers, to make both myself and  mankind easy   Swift's Polite Conversations consist of a wonderful string of slang  words, phrases, and clicMs^ all of which we may suppose to have been  current in the conversation of the more frivolous part of Society in the  early eighteenth century. The word pure is used for very ‘ this almond  pudden is pure good ’ ; also as an Adj., in the sense of excellent^ as in ‘ by  Dad he's pure Company \ Sir Noble Clumsey's summing-up of the 'Arch-  Wag' Malagene. To divert in the characteristic sense of ‘amuse',  and instead of this ‘ Well ladies and gentlemen, you are pleased to divert  yourselves'. Lady Wentworth  speaks of her ‘munckey' as  ‘ full of devertin tricks and twenty years earlier Cary Stewkley (Verney),  taxed by her brother with a propensity for gambling, writes ‘ whot dus  becom a gentilwoman as plays only for divariion I hope I know   The idiomatic use of obliging is shown in the Polite Conversations, by  Lady Smart, who remarks, in answer to rather excessive praise of her  house ‘ My lord, your lordship is always very obliging ' ; in the same sense Lady Squeamish says 'I sweai*e Mr. Malagene you are a very  obliging person \   Extreme amusement, and approval of the persons who provoke it, are  frequently expressed with considerable exaggeration of phrase. Some  instances are quoted above, but a few more may be added^. ‘ A you mad  slave you, you are a ticUing Acior\ says Vincentio to Pogio in Chapman’s  Gentleman Usher.   Mr. Oldwit, in Shadwelbs Bury Fair, professes great delight at the  buffoonery of Sir Humphrey : ‘ Forbear, pray forbear ; you'll be the  death of me ; 1 shall break a vein if I keep you company, you arch Wag  you, . . . Well Sir Humphrey Noddy, go thy ways, thou art the ar«hesT  Wit and Wag. I must forswear thy Company, thou'lt kill me elsei'  The arch wag asks ' What is the World worth without Wit and Waggery  and Mirth ? and describing some prank he had played before an admiring  friend, remarks Mf you’d seen his Lordship laugh! I thought my  Lord would have killed himself. He desired me at last to forbear ; he  was not able to endure it! 'Why what a notable Wag^s this" is said  sarcastically in Mrs. Aphra Behn’s Sir Patient Fancy.   The passages quoted above, pp. 369-71, from Otway’s Friendship in  Love illustrate the modes of expressing an appreciation of ' Waggery   In the tract Reasons of Mr. Bays for changing his religion (1688),  Mr. Bays (Dryden) remarks a propos of something he intends to write  ^you 'll half kill yourselves with laughing at the conceit and again  ' I protest Ml’ Crites you are enough to make anybody split with laugh-  ing', Similarly 'Miss’ in Polite Conversation declares 'Well, I swear  you'll make one die with laughing   The language of abuse, disparagement, contempt, and disapproval,  whether real or in the nature of banter, is equally characteristic.   The following is uttered with genuine anger, by Malagene Goodvile  in Otway’s Friendship in Love, to the njusicians who are entertaining  the company ' Hold, hold, what insufferable rascals are these ? Why  you scurvy thrashing scraping mongrels, ye make a worse noise than  crampt hedgehogs. ’Sdeath ye dogs, can’t you play more as a gentleman  sings ? ’   The seventeenth-century beaux and fine ladies were adepts in the art  of backbiting, and of conveying in a few words a most unpleasant picture  of an absent friend 'O my Lady Toothless’ cries Mr. Brisk in the  Double Dealer, ' O she ’s a mortifying spectacle, she "s always chewing  the cud like an old Ewe ’ ; ' Fie M*^ Brisk, Eringos for her cough ’ pro-  tests Cynthia ; Lady Froth :  ' Then that t’other great strapping Lady  I can't hit of her name ; the old fat fool that paints so exorbitantly ’ ;  Brisk : ' I know whom you mean But deuce take me I can't hit of her  Name neither Paints d’ye say ? Why she lays it on with a trowel’   Mr. Brisk knows well how to 'just hint a fault ' Don't you apprehend  me My Lord? Careless is a very honest fellow, but harkee ^you under-  stand me somewhat heavy, a little shallow or so   Lady Froth has a picturesque vocabulary to express disapproval  '0 Filthy M** Sneer? he's a nauseous figure, a most fulsamic Fop .  Nauseous and filthy are favourite words in this period, but are often used so  as to convey little or no specific meaning, or in a tone of rather affectionate banter. ^ He ’s one of those nauseous offerers at wit Wycherley’s Country  Wife ; ^ A man must endeavour to look wholesome ’ says Lord Foppington  in Vanbrugh's Relapse, ‘lest he make so nauseous a figure in the side  box, the ladies should be compelled to turn their eyes upon the Play ’ ;  again the same nobleman remarks ‘ While I was but a Knight I was  a very nauseous fellow ’ ; and, speaking to his tailor I shall never be  reconciled to this nauseous packet A remarkable use of the verb, to  express a simple aversion, is found in Mrs. Millamont’s ^ I nauseate walking ;  'tis a country divertion ' (Congreve, Way of the World).   In the Old Bachelor, Belinda, speaking of Belmour with whom she is  Th In^e, cries out, at the suggestion of such a possibility  ‘ Filthy Fellow I  ... Oh I love your hideous fancy I Ha, ha, ha, love a Man 1 ' In the  same play Lucy the maid calls her lover, Setter, ‘ Beast, filthy toad ’  during an exchange of civilities. ‘ Foh, you filthy toad I nay, now IVe  done jesting ’ says Mrs. Squeamish in the Country Wife, when Horner  kisses her. ‘Out upon you for a filthy creature' cries ‘Miss^ in the  Polite Conversations, in reply to the graceful banter of Neverout.   Toad is a term of endearment among these ladies ; ‘ I love to torment  the confounded toad' says Lady Fidget, speaking of Mr. Horner for  whom she has a very pronounced weakness. ‘ Get you gone you good-  natur’d toad you ' is Lady Squeamish's reply to the rather outre compli-  ments of Sir Noble.   Plague (Vb.), plaguy^ plaguily are favourite expressions in Polite Con-  versations. Lord Sparkish complains to his host ‘ My Lord, this venison  is plaguily peppered ' ; ' 'Sbubs, Madam, I have burnt my hand with your  plaguy kettle ' says Neverout, and the Colonel observes, with satisfaction,  that ‘ her Ladyship was plaguily bamb'd ‘ Don't be so teizing ; you  plague a body so ! can't you keep your filthy hands to yourself? ' is  a playful rap administered by ‘ Miss ' to Neverout.   Strange is another word used very indefinitely but suggesting mild  disapproval ‘ I vow you'll make me hate you if you talk so strangely, but  let me die, I can't last longer ' says Lady Squeamish, implying a certain  degree of impropriety, which nevertheless makes her laugh ; again, she  says, ‘I'll vow and swear my cousin Sir Noble is a strange pleasant  creature   We have an example above of exorbitantly in the sense of ‘out-  rageously', and the adjective is also used in the same sense ^‘Most  exorbitant and amazing' is Lady Fantast’s comment, in Bury Fair, upon  her husband's outburst against her airs and graces. We may close this  series of illustrations, which might be extended almost indefinitely, with  two from the Verney Memoirs, which contain idiomatic uses that have  long since disappeared. Susan Verney, wishing to say that her sister's  husband is a bad-tempered disagreeble fellow, writes ‘poore peg has  married a very humersome cros boy as ever I see' (Mem.).  Edmund Verney, Sir Ralph's heir, having had a quarrel with a neigh*  bouring squire concerning boundaries and rights of way, describes him  as ‘very malicious and stomachfull' (Mem.). The phrase  ‘as ever I see' is common in the Verney letters, and also in the Wentworth Papers. Preciosity, &c.   We close this chapter with some examples of seventeenth-century  preciosity and euphemism. The most characteristic specimens of this  kind of affected speech are put by the writers into the mopths of female  characters, and of these we select Shadwell's Lady Fantast and her  daughter (Bury Fair), Otway's Lady Squeamish, Congreve's Lady  Wishfort, and Vanbrugh's Lady Fancyful in the Provok'd Wife. Some  of the sayings of a few minor characters may be added ; the waiting-  maids of these characters are nearly as elegant, and only less absurd  than their mistresses.   Luce, Lady Fantast's woman, summons the latter's stepdaughter as  follows : ^ Madam, my Lady Madam Fantast, having attir'd herself in  her morning habiliments, is ambitious of the honour of your Ladyship's  Company to survey the Fair ' ; and she thus announces to her mistress  the coming of Mrs. Gertrude the stepdaughter :  ‘ Madame, M^s Gatty  ' will kiss your Ladyship's hands here incontinently '. The ladies Fan-  tast, highly respectable as they are in conduct, are as arrant, pretentious,  and affected minxes as can be found, in manner and speech, given to  interlarding their conversation with sham French, and still more dubious  Latin. Says the daughter  ‘To all that which the World calls Wit and  Breeding, I have always had a natural Tendency, a penchen^ derived, as  the learned say, ex traduce, from your Ladyship : besides the great  Prevalence of your Ladyship's most shining Example has perpetually  stimulated me, to the sacrificing all my Endeavours towards the attaining  of those inestimable Jewels ; than which, nothing in the Universe can be  so much a mon gre, as the French say. And for Beauty, Madam, the  stock I am enrich'd with, comes by Emanation from your Ladyship, who  has been long held a Paragon of Perfection : most Charmanf, most Tuant!  ‘Ah my dear Child' replies the old lady, ‘II alas, alas 1 Time has been,  and yet I am not quite gone . When Gertrude her stepsister, an  attractive and sensible girl, comes in Mrs. Fantast greets her with  ‘ Sweet Madam Gatty, I have some minutes impatiently expected your  Arrival, that I might do myself the Great Honour to kiss your hands and  enjoy the Favour of your Company into the Fair ; which I see out of my  Window, begins to fill apace.'   To this piece of afifectation Gatty replies very sensibly, ‘ I got ready as  soon as e'er I could, and am now come to wait on you ', but old Lady  Fantast takes her to task, with ‘ Oh, fie, Daughter ! will you never attain  to mine, and my dear Daughter's Examples, to a more polite way of  Expression, and a nicer form of Breeding ? Fie, fie ; I come to wait on  you! You should have said; I assure you Madam the Honour is all  on my side ; and I cannot be ambitious of a greater, than the sweet  Society of so excellent a Person. This is Breeding/ ‘Breeding!'  exclaims Gatty, ‘ Why this had been a Flam, a meer Flam And with  this judgement, we may leave My Lady Fantast.   We pass next to Lady Squeamish, who is rather ironically described by  Goodvile as ‘the most exact Observer of Decorums and Decency alive  Her manner of greeting the ladies on entering, along with her cousin  Sir Noble Clumsey, if it has the polish, has also the insincerity of her age' Dear Madam Goodvile, ten thousand Happinesses wait on you !  Fair Madam Victoria, sweet charming Camilla, which way shall I express  my Service to you ? Cousin your honour, your honour to the Ladies.  Sir Noble : Ladies as low as Knee can bend, or Head can bow, I salute  you all : And Gallants, I am your most humble, most obliged, and most  devoted Servant/   The character of this charming lady, as well as her taste in language,  is well exhibited in the following dialogue between her and Victoria.    Oh my dear Victoria ! the most unlock’d for Happiness ! the pleasantest  Wlc^ent ! the strangest Discovery ! the very thought of it were enough to  cure Melancholy. Valentine and Camilla, Camilla and Valentine, ha, ha, ha,   Viet, Dear Madam, what is ’t so transports you ?   Ldy Sqti, Nay ’tis too precious to be communicated : Hold me, hold me,  or I shall die with laughter  ha, ha, ha, Camilla and Valentine, Valentine and  Camilla, ha, ha, ha 0 dear, my Heart’s broke.   Viet, Good Madam refrain your Mirth a little, and let me know the Story,  that I may have a share in it.   Ldy Squ, An Assignation, an Assignation tonight in the lower Garden ;  by strong good Fortune I overheard it all just now  but to think of the  pleasant Consequences that will happen, drives me into an Excess of Joy  beyond all sufferance.   Viet, Madame in all probability the pleasantest Consequence is like to be  theirs, if any body’s ; and I cannot guess how it should touch your Ladyship  in the least.   Ldy Squ, O Lord, how can you be so dull ? Why, at the very Hour and  Place appointed will I greet Valentine in Camilla’s stead, before she can be  there herself ; then when she comes, expose her Infamy to the World, till  I have thorowly revenged my self for all the base Injuries her Lover has  done me.   Viet But Madam, can you endure to be so malicious ?   Ldy Squ, That, that ’s the dear Pleasure of the thing ; for I vow I’d  sooner die ten thousand Deaths, if I thought I should hazard the least  Temptation to the prejudice of my Honour.   Viet, But why should your Ladyship run into the mouth of Danger?  Who knows what scurvy lurking Devil may stand in readiness, and seize  your Virtue before you are aware of him ?   Ldy Squ, Temptation? No, I’d have you know I scorn Temptation:  I durst trust myself in a Convent amongst a Kennel of cramm’d Friers:  Besides, that ungrateful ill-bred fellow Valentine is iny mortal Aversion,  more odious to me than foul weather on a May-day, or ill smell in a Morning.  ... No, were I inclined to entertain Addresses, I assure you I need not  want for Servants ; for I swear I am so perplexed with Billet-Doux^ every  day, I know not which way to turn myself: Besides there’s no Fidelity, no  Honour in Mankind. O dear Victoria I whatever you do, never let Love  come near your Heart : Tho really 1 think true Love is the greatest Pleasure  in the World.’   And so we let Lady Squeamish go her ways for a brazen jilt, and an  affected, humoursome baggage. If any one wishes to know whither her  ways led her, let him read the play.   Only one more example of foppish refinement of speech from this  play the remarks of the whimsical Mr. Caper to Sir Noble Clumsey,  who coming in drunk, takes him for a dandng-master  ^ I thought you  had known me’ says he, rather ruefully, but adds, brightening 'I doubt you may be a little overtaken. Faith, dear Heart, Fm glad to see you so  merry I ’   The character of Lady Wishfort in the Way of the World is perhaps  one of the best that Congreve has drawn; her conversation in spite of  the deliberate affectation ir^ phrase is vivid and racy, and for all its  preciosity has a naturalness which puts it among the triumphs of Con-  greve’s art. He contrives to bring out to the full the absurdity of the  lady’s mannerisms, in feeling and expression, to combine these with vigour  and ease of diction, and to give to the whole that polish of which he is the  unquestioned master in his own age and for long after.   The position of Lady Wishfort is that of an elderly lady of great ouii  ward propriety of conduct, and a steadfast observer of decorum, in sjl^ch  no less than in manners. Her equanimity is considerably upset by the  news that an elderly knight has fallen in love with her portrait, and wishes  to press his suit with the original. The pretended knight is really a valet  in disguise, and the whole intrigue has been planned, for reasons into  which we need not enter here, by a rascally nephew of Lady Wishfort’s.  This, however, is not discovered until the lover has had an interview with  the sighing fair. The first extract reveals the lady discussing the coming  visit with Foible her maid (who is in the plot).   ‘ I shall never recompose my Features to receive Sir Rowland with any  Oeconomy of Face Fm absolutely decayed. Look, F oible.   Foible, Your Ladyship has frown’d a little too rashly, indeed Madam.  There are some Cracks discernible in the white Varnish.   Ldy W, Let me see the Glass Cracks say’st thou ? Why I am arrantly  flead (e. g. flayed) I look like an old peel’d Wall. Thou must repair me  Foible before Sir Rowland comes, or I shall never keep up to my picture.   F, I warrant you, Madam ; a little Art once made your picture like you ;  and now a little of the same Art must make you like your Picture. Your  Picture must sit for you, Madam.   Ldy W, But art thou sure Sir Rowland will not fail to come ? Or will he  not fail when he does come? Will he be importunate, Foible, and push?  For if he should not be importunate ... I shall never break Decorums    I shall die with Confusion ; if I am forc’d to advance O no, I can never  advance. ... I shall swoon if he should expect Advances. No, I hope  Sir Rowland is better bred than to j)ut a Lady to the Necessity of breaking  her Forms. I won’t be too coy neither. I won’t give him Despair But  a little Disdain is not amiss ; a little Scorn is 2X\mm%,--Foible.--h little  Scorn becomes your Ladyship .  Ldy IV. Yes, but Tendeimess becomes me  best A Sort of a Dyingness You see that Picture has a Sort of a Ha  Foible ! A Swimmingness in the Eyes Yes, I’ll look so My Neice affects  it but she wants Features. Is Sir Rowland handsom ? Let my Toilet be  remov’d I’ll dress above. I’ll receive Sir Rowland here. Is he handsom ?  Don’t answer me. I won’t know : I’ll be surpris’d ; He’ll be taken by Sm-  prise. By Storm Madam. Sir Rowland’s a brisk Man. TV.  Is he ! O then he’ll importune, if he ’s a brisk Man. I shall save Decorums  if Sir Rowland importunes. I have a mortal Terror at the Apprehension of  offending against Decorums. O Pm glad he ’s a brisk Man. Let my things  be remov’d good Foible*’   The next passage reveals the lady ready dressed, and expectant of  Sir Rowlands arrival.   ‘Well, and how do I look Foible! Z; Most killing well, Madam.  Ldy IV, Well, and how shall I receive him ? In what Figure shall I give     39S colloquial IDIOM   his Heart the first Impression ? There is a great deal in the first Impression,  Shall I sit? No, I won’t sit I’ll walk ay I’ll walk from the door upon his  Entrance; and then turn full upon him No, that will be too sudden. I’ll  lie, ay Ell lie down I’ll receive him in my little Dressing-Room. There *s  a Couch Yes, yes, I’ll give the first Impression on a Couch I won’t lie  neither, but loll, and lean upon one Elbow; with one Foot a little dangling  off, jogging in ^ thoughtful Way  Yes Yes  and then as soon as he appears,  start, ay, start and be surpris’d, and rise to meet him in a pretty Disorder   Yes  O, nothing is more alluring than a Levee from a Couch in some Con-  fusion It shews the Foot to Advantage, and furnishes with Blushes and  recomposing Airs beyond Comparison. Hark ! there ’s a Coach.’   .^t it is when theure du Berger draws near, as she supposes, that  Lady Wishfort rises to the subiimest heights of expression :   ‘Well, Sir Rowland, you have the Way, you are no Novice in the Labyrinth  of Love— You have the Clue But as I’m a Person, Sir Rowland, you must  not attribute my yielding to any sinister Appetite, or Indigestion of Widow-  hood ; nor impute my Complacency to any Lethar^ of Continence I hope  you don’t think me prone to any iteration of Nuptials If you do, I protest  I must recede or think that I have made a Prostitution of Decorums, but  in the Vehemence of Compassion, or to save the Life of a Person of so much  Importance Or else you wrong my Condescension If you think the least  Scruple of Carnality was an Ingredient, or that    Here Foible enters and announces that the Dancers are ready, and thus  puts an end to the scene at its supreme moment of beauty and  absurdity. Even Congreve could not remain at that level any longer.   It is worth while to record that in this play, a maid, well called Mincings  announces ‘ Mem, I am come to acquaint your Laship that Dinner is  impatient The hostess invites her guests to go into dinner with the  phrase ‘ Gentlemen, will you walk ? '   This chapter and book cannot better conclude than with a typical piece  of seventeenth-century formality. May it symbolize at once the author's  leave-taking of the reader and the eagerness of the latter to pursue the  subject for himself.   The passage is from the Provok’d Wife :   ‘ Lady FancyfuL Madam, your humble servant, I must take my leave.   Lady Brute. What, going already madam ?   Ldy F. I must beg you’ll excuse me this once ; for really 1 have eighteen  visits this afternoon. . . . {Goin^ Nay, you shan’t go one step out of  the room.   Ldy B. Indeed I’ll wait upon you down.   Ldy F. No, sweet Lady Brute, you know I swoon at ceremony.   Ldy B, Pray give me leave Ldy F. You know I won’t I^dy B. You  know I must. Ldy F. Indeed you shan’t Indeed I will Indeed you shan’t Ldy B. Indeed I will.   Ldy F. Indeed you shan’t. Indeed, indeed, indeed, you shan’t’   [Exit running. They follow.\ Alberto Caracciolo. Keywords: il colloquio, in cammino verso il linguaggio. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Caracciolo” – The Swimming-Pool Library.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Caramella: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale degl’eroi di Vico – scuola di Genova – filosofia genovese – filosofia ligure -- filosofia italiana – Caritone e Melanippo -- Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Genova). Filosofo genovese. Filosofo ligure. Filosofo italiano. Genova, Liguria. Grice:”I like Caramella – like me, he is into the metaphysics of conversation! And he reminds me that I should re-read Vico!” --  Grice: “I like Caramella; he prefaced Fichte’s influential tract on ‘la filosofia della massoneria’ – but also wrote on more orthodox subjects like Kant, Cartesio, Bergson, and most of them!” – Grice: “Like me, he thought truth is found in conversation!” Ancora al liceo, comincia a collaborare con Gobetti, il quale gli affida la trattazione della filosofia su “Energie Nove”. Dopo un primo contatto con PGobetti e La Rivoluzione liberale, su segnalazione di questi, entra in collaborazione con Radice, da cui apprese le dottrine del neo-idealismo di Croce e Gentile. Dopo la laurea, insegna a Genova. Per le sue idee antifasciste fu arrestato e rinchiuso prima nelle carceri di Marassi a Genova, e poi fu trasferito a San Vittore a Milano; fu scarcerato, ma venne sospeso dall'insegnamento e dalla libera docenza. Ottenne, per intercessione di Croce, l'incarico di filosofia a Messina. Vinse la cattedra a Catania. Prese parte ai convegni organizzati dalla Scuola di mistica fascista  Insegna a Palermo, ereditando la cattedra che era stata di Gentile. Il suo allievo principale, che ne cura il lascito, è Armetta, docente alla Pontifica Facoltà Teologica di Sicilia.  La sua vasta cultura, gli permise di vedere la continuità della filosofia antica romana classica e e, nell'ambito della filosofia italiana, l'unità delle opposte dialettiche nella legge vivente dello spirito e nel dinamismo della natura e della storia. Apprezzato storico della filosofia. La sua filosofia si può definire un neo-idealismo crociano e gentiliano, ma reinterpretatto alla luce dello spiritualismo. La sua filosofia supera lo storicismo e la dottrina crociana degli opposti e dei distinti, e si esprime nell'interpretazione della pratica come eticità storica.. La religione e la teosofia rappresentano la possibilità dello spirito attento da un lato alla concretezza dell'uomo e dall'altro all'ineffabilità. Lo spirito, anziché risolversi nella filosofia, colloca il proprio progresso in intima unità con il progresso della filosofia stessa: da un lato è esclusa la riduzione dello spirito ad atteggiamento pratico; dall'altro, le è conferito una distinta funzione teoretica.  Altre opere: “Problemi e sistemi della filosofia, Messina); “Religione, teosofia e filosofia”; “Logica e Fisica” (Roma); “La filosofia di Plotino e il neoplatonismo” Catania); Ideologia”; “Metafisica, filosofia dell'esperienza”; “Metalogica, filosofia dell'esperienza” (Catania); “Autocritica, in: Filosofi italiani contemporanei, M.F. Sciacca, Milano); “L'Enciclopedia di Hegel, Padova); “La filosofia dello Stato nel Risorgimento, Napoli); “Introduzione a Kant, Palermo); “Conoscenza e metafisica, Palermo); “La mia prospettiva etica, Palermo); “Carteggio con Croce. Carteggio. La dialettica del vero e del certo nella "metafisica vichiana" di C., in Miscellanea di scritti filosofici in memoria di Caramella, Palermo. Ontologia storico-dialettica di C..Lo spirito nella filosofia di C..C.. La verità in dialogo. Carteggio con Radice.Dizionario biografico degli italiani. Il linguaggio come auto-analisi. 2 C., La cultura ligure nell’alto Medioevo, in II Comune di Genova,  La recente Vita d i Bruno, con documenti e inediti 1, in cui Vincenzo Spampanato lia potuto finalmente sintetizzare oltre vent’anni di ricerche bruniane, mi suggerisce l’opportunità di un breve eenno sul soggiorno del filosofo nella n o s tra regione, così sulla base di quanto lo Spampanato ha messo novamente in luce come su quella delle antiche notizie da lui rinfrescate. Cel resto l’unica seria esposizione dei fatti che stiamo per narrare era, prima delle dotte pagine dello Spampanato, nella biografia del Berti2: ma sommaria e imprecisa per molti rispetti. Arrivò il Bruno in Genova poco prima della domenica delle Palme, nell’anno in cui la festa cadeva il 15 aprile? Cont raria m en te al parere del Berti, il quale sostiene non essere capace di prova che il filosofo sia entrato nella nostra città, dobb iam o infatti tener presente una scena del Candelaio dove tino dei protagonisti giura, entrando in scena, sulla  benedetta coda dell’asino, che adorano i Genoesi’3 », e il passo correlativo dello Spaccio d e lla B e stia trio n fa n te, che dice proprio così:  Ho visto io i religiosi di Castello in Genova mostrar per breve tempo e far baciare la velata coda, dicendo: non toccate, baciate: questa è la santa reliquia di quella benedetta asina che fu fatta degna di portar il nostro Dio dal monte Oliveto a Jerosolina. Adoratela, baciatela, -porgete limosina: Centum accipietis, et vita aeternam possidebitis». I  religiosi di Castello» sono, è evidente, i Domenicani di Santa Maria di Castello, dove uffiziavano: e la preziosa reliquia doveva certo esser mostrata 1 Messina, Principato, Vedi, per l’argomento di questa com unicazione, Torino, Paravia, ed. Spampanato (Bari, Laterza), ed. Gentile (Dial. morali di G. B.), Quetifet Echard, S c rip t. ord. praed., t. il, p. in. Società Ligure di Storia Patria - al p opolo nella precisa circostanza della commemorazione del giorno in cui Gesù discese trionfante su ll’asina a Gerusalemme 1. Il Bruno veniva da Roma, um ile fu ggiasco. A v ev a avu to notizia che il processo istruttorio p endente presso l’inquisizione, per i sospetti di erodossia avanzati contro di lui, non annunziava buon esito: e così, deposto l’ abito, si diresse verso la valle Padana. Più tardi raccontò egli stesso, ai giudici di V enezia, di essere andato subito a N oli. Ma è prob abile c h e la peste, da cui quella plaga fu proprio in quel torno di rem po violentemente aiflitta, lo abbia genericam ente con sigliato a v o lgersi verto la Liguria, contrada m eno infetta, o non ancora raggiunta dal contagio, e a fermarsi alm eno qualche giorno a Genova. Le sarcastiche espressioni dello Spaccio ci fanno im m aginare agevolmente il Bruno là sulla piazzetta della vetusta ch iesa romanica, pieno l’animo non già di ammirazione estetica perla caratteristica facciata o per gli ornamenti molteplici dell’ interno, eh’ è tutto un m usaico di con q uiste orientali, - e tanto meno di interesse psicologico e religioso per la folla affluente ed effluente dal tempio, - ma di cruccio e disdegno: lui da poco a ccostatosi alle nuove idee dei riformatori oltremontani, lui per questo costretto a fuggire di patria e dall’ am ato convento napoletano di San Domenico Maggiore, dove gli allievi p endevano dalla sua parola, dottamente teologizzante. La peste arrivò presto, anzi subito, anche a Genova; a Milano l’ ambasciatore veneto Ottaviano di Mazi ne aveva già n o ­ tizia tre giorni dapo il 15 aprile, il m ercoledì santo 2. E allora il Bruno, com e ci attestano, questa volta, più veracem ente, le sue note dichiarazioni ai giudici veneti, se ne andò a N oli. Forse il ricordo dantesco, che per lui u m anista p oteva con tar qualche cosa, e la simiglianza del nom e con quello della sua Nola; forse la persistente libertà della piccola repubblica, e anche, chissà, qualche lettera di raccomandazione, qualche c o n ­ siglio di amico lo spinsero in quel tranquillo rifugio, l’ unico veramente tranquillo per lui nella storia delie sue lunghe peregrinazioni.  Andai a Noli, territorio genoese, d ove m i intrattenni quattro o cinque mesi a insegnar la gram m atica a’ putti ».  Io 1 Per la storia d ella re liqu ia v. Imbriani, Natanar II in Propu gnatore, Vili, M utin elli, Storia arcana ed aneddotica d’Italia, Società Ligure di Storia Patria - biblioteca digitale - stetti in Noli circa quattro o cinque mesi, insegnando la grammatica a’ figliuoli e leggendo la Sfera o certi gentiluomini...1 ». Lo Spampanato, per ragioni di coerenza con ulteriori dati biografici, pensa che il soggiorno sia durato un po’ più di quattro mesi. Comunque, le occupazioni del Nolano a Noli sono ben chiare: l’ esule cercava di trar qualche mezzo di vita con lezioncine private. Ma anche  leggeva la Sfera a certi gentiluomini »: la Sfera, cioè il famoso trattato di Giovanni da Sacroboseo, professore alla Sorbona e monaco domenicano quasi contemporaneo di Dante: che si soleva considerare come perfetta e sintetica esposizione di una teoria fisico-geometrica fondamentale per l’astronomia tolemaica, (la teoria delle sfere celesti), e che Γ insinuarsi dell’ ipotesi copernicana aveva, nella seconda metà del Cinquecento, rimesso in gran voga2. Persino a Noli era dunque penetrato il novello interesse del secolo per i problemi astronomici; perfino a Noli alcuni giovani signori sentivano il bisogn o di stipendiare un povero erudito piovuto di lontano perchè spiegasse loro il sistema del mondo. E il Bruno cominciava di quia occuparsi direttamente di quelle indagini che fur o n o oggetto delle polemiche da lui sostenute in Inghilterra e che formano l’argomento della Cena delle Ceneri. Non possiamo n atu ralm e n te sapere (a meno che venissero fuori i quaderni di queste sue legioni liguri) s’ egli già a Noli professasse la dottrina copernicana, servendosi della Sfera per criticare il sistema tolem aico: o invece, come il Galilei ne’ suoi corsi allo Studio di Padova, si limitasse all’illustrazione del classico libretto. Un sacerdote napoletano, anzi padre Iazzarista, Raffaele de Martinis, che p otè consultare gli atti del Santo Uffizio, asserisce nella sua biografia del Bruno che a questi fu intentato in Vercelli un processo (che sarebbe il quarto dopo i primi due di Napoli 1 Docc. veneti, vili, c. 8 r-v. (SPAMPANATO). Vedi A. Pellizzar i, Il quadrivio nel Rinascimento (Genova, Perrella). Bruno (Napoli). Ma cfr. Amabile, in Atti Acc. Scienze mor. e politiche di Napoli n.; espampanato (e anche Tocco in Arch. fiir Gesch. der P h ilo s., Bonghi, ne La Cultura, Gentile, Bruno e il pensiero del Rinascimento, [Firenze, Vallecchi Società Ligure di Storia Patria -  e il terzo di Roma)  dalla Inquisizione dello Repubblica g e n o ­ vese»: ma dell’asserzione importantissima (secondo la quale si potrebbe proprio pensare aver il Bruno palesato ancora una volta la sua eterodossia nell’insegnamento di Noli) il De Martinis non dà, e confessa di non aver potuto trovare, le prove. E la notizia non pare affatto fondata, posto che manca ogni riferimento a questo processo genovese nei posteriori documenti processuali di Venezia, e di Roma dove pur dovrebbe trovarsi, posto che a Vercelli non ci consta che il Bruno facesse soggiorno (nè quindi l’inquisizione genovese avrebbe avuto ragione alcuna di perseguirvelo).  Eppoi me partii de là [da Noli] ed andai prima a Savona, dove stetti circa quindeci giorni; e da Savona a Turino, dove non trovando trattenimento a mia satisfazione venni a Venezia per il Po1 ». Da Venezia, di lì a due mesi, a Padova; da Padova a Brescia, Bergamo, Milano. Qui rivestì l’ abito, e poi per Buffalora, Novara, Vercelli, Chivasso, Torino, Susa arrivò alla Novalesa, sotto il Cenisio. Un giorno ancora e fu in Francia, oltre monti, lanciato per la gran carraia della Sua fortuna. Troverà onori, trionfi accademici, soddisfazioni di filosofo e di scrittore; ma la queta pace di Noli, mai più. C. 1 Docc. veti., c. La Logica di Porto Reale. Con Prefazione del Prof. Santino... Storia del pensiero e del gusto letterario in Italia ad uso dei licei.  La scuola di mistica fascista e la discoperta del vero VICO L'azione combinata della storiografia al bianchetto e della credulità strisciante fra le righe del conformismo teologico, ha fatto sparire la notizia della sfida al neoidealismo, che fu lanciata dalle avanguardie cattoliche inquadrate nella scuola milanese di mistica fascista. In tal modo la memoria storica degli italiani è stata privata della nozione necessaria a contrastare seriamente l'ideologia totalitaria e ad avviare gli studi filosofici su un cammino di ricerca opposto a quello tracciato dall'intossicante influsso del gramscismo. Un percorso, quella anticipato dalla scuola di mistica fascista, che avrebbe messo capo ad un'evoluzione del Novecento - un'autentica rivoluzione italiana - di segno contrario al coatto e calamitoso trasferimento (narrato da Zangrandi) degli intellettuali fascisti nel partito di Togliatti. L'accertata esistenza di una forte opposizione cattolica alla filosofia di matrice hegeliana, comunque, fa crollare i due pilastri della mistificazione comunista: la leggenda della complicità cattolica con l'ideologia anticomunista prevalente in Germania - leggenda sintetizzata dal calunnioso slogan Pio XII papa di Hitler» - e la rappresentazione degli intellettuali italiani nella figura di un coacervo nazifascista, redento in extremis dalla longanimità del partito staliniano. La vicenda degli oppositori italiani all'idealismo rivela, invece, l'autonomia, la straordinaria vitalità e l'attitudine del pensiero cattolico ad entusiasmare ed orientare i giovani studiosi, che avevano aderito al fascismo senza separarsi dalla radice religiosa della patria italiana. Curiosamente, l'autorità del pensiero cattolico si rafforzò nella prima fase della II guerra mondiale, quando la Germania nazionalsocialista sembrava avviata a vincere la guerra. Dopo che il governo italiano ebbe sottoscritto l'alleanza con la Germania, il dubbio si era, infatti, diffuso fra i giovani, causando la divisione dell'area fascista in due opposte scuole di pensiero: una corrente maggioritaria, intesa a metter fine al dominio della cultura tedesca e perciò risoluta a percorrere la via d'uscita indicata dalla tradizione cattolica, e una corrente minoritaria, rimasta fedele ai princìpi dell'idealismo e perciò decisa a seguire le avanguardie germaniche sulla via del fanatismo e dell'estremismo anticristiano. Espressione del fermento in atto durante quegli anni cruciali è un magnifico saggio di Tripodi, interprete delle novità introdotte nella scuola milanese di mistica fascista da Schuster e dal fondatore dell'Università cattolica del Sacro Cuore, il francescano Gemelli (confronta Il pensiero politico di Vico e la dottrina del fascismo», Milani). Tripodi, grazie ad una profonda conoscenza della filosofia italiana tentò un audace confronto tra lo storicismo cristiano di VICO e la dottrina politica di MUSSOLINI. L'affinità del fascismo e della scienza nuova, nell'acuta analisi di Tripodi, non è causata dalle letture (Mussolini, infatti, non cita mai Vico) ma dalla comune tendenza a riconoscere che maestra non è la mente di questo o quell'uomo che razionalmente pone un principio, ma la storia delle attività di tutti gli uomini che si svolgono come debbono svolgersi perché provvidenzialmente si compia la socialità che ad esse è intrinseca». La scelta di Tripodi cade su Vico poiché fu perenne nel suo spirito la distinzione tra la sostanza divina e quella delle creature, tra l'essenza o ragion di essere di Dio e quella delle cose create, come fu perenne ed inequivocabile la inintelligibilità di Dio se ricercata nel mondo bruto della natura anziché in quello della storia, nella quale la Provvidenza si manifesta, chiamando gli uomini a collaboratori della divinità». Pubblicato e presto rimosso dalla censura di sinistra e dall'indifferenza di destra, il saggio di Tripodi raccoglie e approfondisce i risultati delle ricerche iniziate da quegli studiosi cattolici (nel testo sono citati Chiocchetti, Vecchio, Amerio, Gemelli, Olgiati, C., Orestano, Carlini e Giuliano) che avevano sostenuto l'irriducibilità della tradizione italiana alla filosofia tedesca, confutando le tesi di Croce e di Gentile su VICO precursore dell'idealismo. Tripodi afferma, ad esempio, che il pensiero fascista, per quanto concerne l'ontologia, ha sempre creduto nella finitezza dell'umano, riconoscendo che esiste una parete invalicabile, sulla quale lo spirito umano non può scrivere che una sola parola, Dio» mentre gli idealisti, convinti di sfondare quella parete, hanno spiegato la dottrina fascista attraverso il monismo soggettivista o le dimostrazioni immanentistiche, falsando così gli inequivocabili atteggiamenti dualistici di essa. Di qui il ribaltamento della linea neoidealista e la scelta dello storicismo cristiano di VICO quale orizzonte filosofico della tradizione vivente in Italia malgrado gli apparenti successi della modernità: La stessa barriera che Vico oppone, in nome della genuinità del pensiero italiano al razionalismo, la oppone il fascismo all'idealismo. Né GENTILE, né CROCE, anche se il primo ha la camicia nera e cercò di darla al secondo pongono gli estremi della nostra dottrina». Tripodi indica in VICO l'antagonista dell'irrealismo e del soggettivismo dominanti nell'età moderna: Vico non può essere idealista perché la sua filosofia impugna Cartesio e fa impugnare in Kant gli iniziatori delle dottrine, costruite unicamente su di una realtà interiore». La filosofia vichiana, inoltre, è apprezzata perché rivendica la responsabilità dell'azione umana nei fatti della storia che altre indagini speculative avevano invece interpretato o come involuti in una meccanica autonoma e materiale o come creazione ideale definita dal pensiero che l'aveva posta. La coscienza delle proprie virtù creatrici della storia non deve però indurre l'uomo a dimenticare che la causa prima di esse sta al di fuori della sua singolarità terrena. E non al di fuori perché affidata al caso o al fato, ma perché contenuta nella volontà di Dio e rappresentata nella linea tracciata dalla sua divina provvidenza». L'invito a separare il destino dell'Italia fascista dalle chimere del razionalismo e dalle suggestioni dell'attivismo prometeico e dell'amor fati, non poteva essere formulato con maggiore chiarezza. Nelle penetranti tesi formulate da Tripodi è in qualche modo anticipato lo schema della strategia culturale elaborata, nel dopoguerra, dai pensatori dell'avanguardia cattolica (Vecchio, Petruzzellis, Sciacca, Noce, Tejada, Montano, Grisi, Torti) che nella filosofia di VICO vedranno lo strumento adatto a contrastare e battere i poteri dell'astrazione hegeliana trasferita, intanto, nella parodia inscenata dal gramscismo. La posta in gioco era la corretta impostazione della dottrina del diritto naturale, in ultima analisi la soluzione del problema riguardante il rapporto tra la giustizia ideale e le cangianti leggi che i popoli producono nel corso della loro storia. Dagli scritti giuridici di Vico, Tripodi trasse una indicazione che gli permise di risolvere il problema senza nulla concedere alle dottrine storicistiche contemplanti un pensiero dell'assoluto che evolve nel tempo: esiste non una separazione ma una diversa gradazione d'intensità etica tra giustizia e diritto. La prima è un diritto naturale soprastorico, che è patrimonio universale e depositario del sommo vero. Il secondo è dato dall'insieme delle norme che il mondo delle nazioni partitamente elabora nel suo progressivo avvicinamento alla giustizia». Di qui l'indicazione di due altri motivi del consenso fascista alla scienza nuova: il fermo rifiuto delle astrazioni suggerite dal contrattualismo e la confutazione delle teorie utilitaristiche, che ritengono l'interesse materiale unica molla delle azioni umane. Nella definizione del comune fondamento della teoria dello Stato, Tripodi sostiene, pertanto, che nel pensiero di Vico come in quello di Mussolini la Provvidenza fa prevalere la solidarietà sull'istinto egoistico: la provvidenza ha il suo più alto attributo nel senso della socialità che perennemente richiama agli uomini, facendo loro vincere il senso egoistico per cui vorrebbero tutto l'utile per se e niuna parte per lo compagno». Tripodi conclude il suo ragionamento affermando che l'unitario ordine di idee nel quale relativamente alla concezione dello Stato si muovono la dottrina vichiana e quella fascista» è dimostrato dalla condivisione del fine soprannaturale: l'uomo trova nello Stato l'organizzazione storica che gli consente di realizzare quei principi morali conferitigli dalla divinità e con ciò di assolvere alla sua stessa funzione trascendente di uomo». E' evidente che l'identificazione della dottrina fascista con la filosofia vichiana era, per Tripodi, un mezzo usato al fine rafforzare la convinzione sulla necessità, imposta dai dubbi destati dall'alleanza con il nazionalsocialismo, di rompere con la cultura prevalente in Germania e di condurre all'approdo cattolico le vere ragioni dell'ideologia fascista. E' però incontestabile che le tesi di Tripodi erano un ottimo strumento per estinguere l'ipoteca che la filosofia tedesca aveva acceso sulla cultura italiana. Non a caso, nel dopoguerra, Tripodi occupò un posto di prima fila nel gruppo degli intellettuali dell'INSPE (Vecchio, Costamagna, Ottaviano, Marzio, Teodorani, Volpe, Sottochiesa, Tricoli, Siena, Grammatico, Rasi) l'istituto che progettava la trasformazione del MSI di Arturo Michelini in avanguardia di una moderna e rigorosa destra cattolica. L'attenzione prestata da Pio XII all'evoluzione del MSI in conformità alle tesi di Tripodi, aprivano le porte del futuro alla destra. Il congresso del MSI, che doveva tenersi a Genova, doveva, infatti, approvare in via definitiva la lungimirante linea culturale e politica di Tripodi, mandando a vuoto i progetti dell'oligarchia favorevole all'apertura a sinistra. Purtroppo la tollerata (dai democristiani) violenza della piazza comunista impedì lo svolgimento di quel congresso, respingendo il MSI nel sottosuolo dionisiaco del pensiero moderno e nelle magiche grotte del tradizionalismo spurio. La lunga immersione nell'area dell'indigenza filosofica impoverì a tal punto la cultura di destra che, quando la discesa in campo di Berlusconi offrì un'altra occasione all'inserimento nella politica di governo, la classe dirigente del MSI, ottusa dalla retorica almirantiana ed espropriata dal pensiero neodestro, non seppe produrre altro che le esangui e rachitiche tesi di Fiuggi.  Nato a Genova da Eleucadio e da Delfò, segui gli studi classici nella città natale. Ancora liceale, cominciò a collaborare a Energie nuove di Gobetti, con il quale aveva preso contatto epistolare, dicendosi lettore entusiasta del periodico e seguace della dottrina filosofica crociana. Gobetti, ormai orientato verso interessi più specificamente politici, affidò al giovane C. la trattazione sulla rivista dei temi filosofici. Su segnalazione di GOBETTI (si veda), Radice comincia ad accogliere i suoi scritti su L'Educazione nazionale.  In linea con l'orientamento pedagogico idealistico del Lombardo Radice, fin dall'inizio degli anni Venti il C. prese le distanze dal positivismo pedagogico con un contributo (Studi sul positivismo pedagogico, Firenze), nato proprio da un suggerimento del pedagogista siciliano che glielo aveva proposto come tema di studio.  È qui osteggiato un pensiero ispirato agli schemi dell'evoluzionismo deterministico e del positivismo scientifico; in particolare e avversato il meccanicismo naturalistico biologicoevolutivo (Spencer e Ardigò), cui viene opposta la concezione umanistica dell'educazione di un Angiulli, di un Siciliani, di un Gabelli. Un'idea di fondo anima le critiche del C.: è inutile ogni speculazione teoretica che non sappia apportare nuove indicazioni pedagogiche per il miglioramento delle condizioni di vita umana, sociale e pratica.  Nello stesso orizzonte critico degli Studi si muovono Le scuole di Lenin (Firenze), La pedagogia di Gioberti e la Guida bibliografica della pedagogia, specialmente italiana e recente, che faceva seguito alla Bibliografia ragionata della pedagogia (Milano) scritta in collaborazione con Radice.  Nutrito di idee democratiche, che gli facevano ritenere inadeguato per l'obiettivo della costruzione di una "nuova Italia" il vecchio quadro politico postunitario, il C. si impegnò politicamente partecipando alla costituzione a Genova di un gruppo democratico di sinistra, che aveva tra i leader Codignola. Collaborò sia all'Arduo, sia al quotidiano socialriformista Il Lavoro.  In particolare, tipico dei gruppo di pedagogisti che, in certo qual modo, si ponevano nell'ambito del pensiero gentiliano (verso cui anche il C. veniva avvicinandosi sulla scia del Lombardo Radice, sia pure su posizioni autonome), è il tema dell'educazione come strumento di realizzazione di una coscienza democratico-nazionale. Da qui, anche per l'influsso delle idee gobettiane, l'attenta considerazione di quanto veniva fatto in quel campo in Unione Sovietica, all'indomani della rivoluzione bolscevica. In Le scuole di Lenin l'ammirazione con cui il C. guardava al piano scolastico educativo diretto da Lunačarskij era determinata in concreto dalla considerazione che si trattava di una rivoluzione culturale unica nella storia dell'umanitàl tesa all'elevazione delle classi inferiori per farle partecipare alla guida della società; la critica più forte, propria della formazione laico-democratica del C., stava nella denuncia del carattere dogmatico delle idee del Lunačarskij, quando questi sosteneva che la sua scuola del lavoro non era disgiungibile dal sistema sociale comunista e dal controllo politico del partito. Conseguita la laurea in filosofia, ottenne presso l'università di Genova la libera docenza in storia della filosofia e vinse il concorso per le grandi sedi per la cattedra di filosofia, pedagogia ed economia negli istituti magistrali, ottenendo come sede Genova. Frattanto la collaborazione con Gobetti, che più che un sodalizio intellettuale aveva costituito un formativo comune impegno politico-sociale all'insegna del programma di democrazia liberale, lo portò in breve tempo allo scontro con il fascismo ormai trionfante.  è la diffida dei prefetto di Torino contro la Rivoluzione liberale (alla quale il C. collabora) e i suoi redattori. La conferma di questo impegno politico e intellettuale, il C. la offrì ulteriormente curando la pubblicazione postuma di Risorgimento senza eroi (Torino) del Gobetti e continuando a far uscire IlBaretti, pur orientando la rivista sempre più verso temi letterari e filosofici onde evitare scontri ancora più aspri con il regime. Nel 1926, grazie al Croce, che ormai era divenuto per lui - come per tanti altri antifascisti - "maestro di libertà", assunse la direzione della collana "Scrittori d'Italia" edita da Laterza. Nel maggio di quell'anno fu costretto a rinunciare alla collaborazione all'Enciclopedia Italiana, a cui era stato invitato dal Gentile, per gli atttacchi mossigli dalla stampa di regime.  Il dissenso dalla politica del fascismo ne provoco l'arresto; rinchiuso prima nelle carceri. di Marassi a Genova e quindi trasferito a S. Vittore a Milano, fu scarcerato. Venne sospeso dall'insegnamento e dalla libera docenza. Le accuse - come si legge in una lettera al Croce (in Il Dialogo) - erano tra l'altro di aver collaborato "al giornale socialistoide-democratico Il Lavoro" di Genova e di aver avuto rapporti con l'associazione antifascista Giovane Italia, insomma di essere "in una condizione di incompatibilità con le direttive generali del governo". Scagionato anche grazie all'intervento del Croce, il C. fu riammesso all'insegnamento e la libera docenza gli fu restituita con d. m. Venne però destinato all'istituto magistrale di Messina, dove prese servizio.  Dall'ottobre di quell'anno ottenne l'incarico di filosofia e storia della filosofia e di pedagogia presso il magistero dell'università di Messina. Mantenne questi incarichi finché vincitore di più concorsi, fu chiamato a coprire la cattedra di pedagogia nell'università di Catania. Passa alla cattedra di filosofia teoretica, conseguendo l'ordinariato.  Furono questi anni di studio intenso. Pur nel crocianesimo di base, si intravvede in Religione, teosofia, filosofia (Messina) e in Senso comune. Teoria e pratica (Bari) lo sforzo di plasmare un proprio e originale impianto teoretico.  In dialogo con i principali pensatori dell'idealismo tedesco e italiano, il C. si misura particolarmente con la crociana logica dei distinti. L'indagine si muove sul terreno dell'attività teoretico-pratica dello Spirito. Particolarmente Religione, teosofia, filosofia rappresenta questo tentativo compiuto dal C. per una revisione del sistema idealistico: vi è fatta emergere l'esigenza di un pensiero spirituale più attento da una parte alla concretezza dell'uomo e dall'altra alla ineffabilità di Dio. Perseguendo tale assunto, nella ricerca di un ordine della verità oltre la logica e la nozione di storia del Croce, il C. ripercorre in Senso comune le tappe storiche del pensiero occidentale, ricostruendo la genesi della dualità dello Spirito nella filosofia greca e poi seguendola nel suo sviluppo e nel suo problematicizzarsi nel pensiero moderno. La concezione della filosofia come educazione e storia, la stretta connessione tra la filosofia e la sua storia pongono il C. medianamente tra Croce e Gentile, e tuttavia nel senso di una sicura indipendenza dal loro pensiero. La sua posizione teoretica può essere così schematizzata: la teoresi è fondamentalmente caratterizzata dalla dialettica dei distinti, mentre la prassi genera lo scontro tra gli opposti; la sintesi dei distinti non è un tertium quid da essi distinto, ma consiste nella loro stessa inscindibile relazione. La loro circolarità consente, come riaffermerà in Ideologia (Catania), di guardare alla pratica come alla realizzazione della teoria, così che si può parlare e di un finalismo teoretico della pratica e di un finalismo pratico della teoria.  All'approfondimento critico dei neoidealismo italiano, il C. affianca l'approfondimento del rapporto tra ricerca filosofica e fede religiosa. Egli mantiene costante il dialogo tra filosofia, scienza e fede nelle trattazioni della piena maturità: Ideologia (Catania), Metalogica: filosofia dell'esperienza, Metafisica vichiana (Palermo), in cui è auspicata la possibilità della sopravvivenza del problema metafisico nell'orizzonte di una metafisica rinnovata, Conoscenza e metafisica. In quest'ultima opera è affrontato il rapporto verità-conoscere, con l'intento di delimitare i confini del sapere scientifico e di affermare razionalmente la capacità di intelligere la realtà della rivelazione. Qui la religione, anziché risolversi nella filosofia, colloca il proprio progresso in intima unità con il progresso della filosofia stessa: da un lato è esclusa la riduzione della religione ad atteggiamento pratico; dall'altro, le è conferita una distinta funzione teoretica. La piena adesione del C. allo spiritualismo cristiano, dunque, fa si che sia elusa la riduzione della filosofia a metodologia, senza dover rinunciare alla fondamentale esigenza di criticità, e che l'interesse si concentri su quelle istanze spiritualistiche, invero in lui presenti dagli anni giovanili sia come atteggiamento di vita - lo si evince dalle Lettere dal carcere - sia come ricerca originale di pensiero. In tal senso, l'adesione allo spiritualismo cristiano va dunque letta più nella prospettiva della continuità, dinamica e perciò trasformantesi e trasformante, che in quella della svolta.  Durante la sua lunga e proficua attività accademica, il C. ricoprì numerose cariche, tra cui quella di preside della facoltà di lettere e filosofia dell'università di Catania; fu presidente di sezione del British Council di Catania e presidente di sezione della Società filosofica italiana a Catania e a Palermo; fu anche presidente di sezione dell'Associazione pedagogica italiana. A Palermo si era stabilito definitivamente allorché venne chiamato prima alla cattedra di pedagogia e poi a quella di filosofia teoretica presso la facoltà di lettere e filosofia.  Il C. morì a Palermo. Opere: Per un elenco completo si rinvia a Bibliografia degli scritti di C., a cura di T. Caramella, in Miscellanea di studi filosofici in memoria di C. (Atti dell'Accad. di scienze lettere e arti di Palermo), Palermo. Oltre alle opere citate ci limitiamo a ricordare qui: Bergson, Milano; Antologia vichiana, Messina, Breve storia della pedagogia, La filosofia di Plotino e il neoplatonismo, Catania; Autocritica, in Filosofi italiani contemporanei, a cura di Sciacca, Milano L'Enciclopedia di Hegel, Padova; La filosofia dello Stato nel Risorgimento, Napoli; Introduzione a Kant, Palermo La pedagogia tedesca in Italia, Roma; Pedagogia. Saggio di voci nuove, Fonti e Bibl.: Roma, Arch. centrale dello Stato, Casellario politico centrale, Per l'epistolario del C. contributi in: Lettere dal carcere di C., in Giornale di metafisica, Carteggio con Croce e Gobetti, in Il Dialogo, Carteggio Radice-C., a cura di T. Caramella, Genova. Vedi inoltre: M.F. Sciacca, Profilo di C., in Annali della facoltà di magistero della università di Palermo,  Di Vona, Religione e filosofia nel pensiero giovanile di C., Conigliaro, Verità e dialogo nel pensiero di C., in Il Dialogo, Guzzo, C., in Filosofia, Sciacca, Il pensiero di C., in Atti dell'Accad. di scienze lettere e arti di Palermo, Sofia, Il dialogo di S. C. con gli uomini d'oggi, in Labor, Cafaro, Commemoraz. di C., in Nuova Riv. pedagogica, Piovani, La dialettica del vero e del certo nella "metafisica vichiana" di C., in Miscellanea di scritti filosofici in memoria di C., Palermo Ganci, C., Raschini, Commemoraz. del prof. S. C., in Giornale di metafisica, Brancato, C.: senso fine e significato della storia, Trapani; V. Mathieu, Filosofia contemporanea, Firenze; P. Prini, La ontologia storico-dialettica di C., in Theorein, Pareyson, Inizi e caratteri del pensiero di C., in Giornale di metafisica, Corselli, La vita dello spirito nella filosofia di C., in Labor, Raschini, Storiografia e metafisica nella interpretazione vichiana di C., in Filosofia oggi; M. Corselli, La figura di C., in Labor, Sciacca, C. filosofo, pedagogista, educatore, in Pegaso. Annali della facoltà di magistero della università di Palermo. δικά, ώς φησιν Ηρακλείδης  ο Ποντικός εν τω περί Ερωτικών. ούτοι Φανέντες επιβουλεύοντες Φαλάριδί, Chariton& Melanippus και βασανιζόμενοι αναγκαζόμενοί τε λέγειν τους συν- confpirant  ειδότας,ουμόνονουκατείπον, αλλά καιτονΦάλα- adν.Ρhala ριν αυτόν είς έλεον ' των βασάνων ήγαγον, ως α π ο λύσαι αυτουςπολλά επαινέσαντα. διοκαιοΑπόλ. λων, ησθείς επί τούτοις, αναβολην του θανάτου το Φαλάριδίέχαρίσατο, τούτο έμφήνας τουςπυν θανομέ νουςτης Πυθία ςόπωςαυτόεπιθώνται έχρησέτεκαι cπερί των αμφί τον Χαρίτωνα, προτάξας του εξαμέ τρου το πεντάμετρον, καθάπερ ύστερον και Διονύσιος 'Αθηναίος εποίησεν, ο επικληθεις Χαλκους, εν τοις Έλεγείοις. έστιδεοχρησμόςόδε  ετε -- Ευδαίμων Χαρίτων και Μελάνιππος έφυ, θείαςαγητηρες έφαμερίοις φιλότατος. 1 Perperamέλαιονms. Εp. et moxα πολαύσαι1ns. A.proαπολύσαι. α> 737 Σ 2 Alibi άγητήρες. 2 amasius, ut ait Heraclides Ponticus in libro de Amatoriis. Hi igitur deprehensi insidias ftruxisse Phalaridi et tormentis subiecti quo coniuratos denunciare coge rentur, non modo non denunciarunt, fed etiam Phala rin ipsum ad misericordiam tormentorum commoverunt, ut plurimum collaudatos dimitteret. Quare etiam Apollo, delectatusfacto, moram mortisindullit Phalaridi, hoc ipsum declarans his qui ipsum de ratione, qua tyran num adgrederentur, consuluerunt: atque et iamde Charitone et Melanippo oraculum edidit, in quo pentame ter praepofitus hexametro erat; quemadmodum etiam poftea Dionysius Athenienfis, isqui Aeneuseft cognomi natus, in Elegiis fecit. Erat autem oraculum hocce Felix et Chariton et Melanippus erat, mortalium genti auctores coeleftis amoris. Santino Caramella. Keywords: il culto dell’eroe, gl’eroi, il culto degl’eroi, Niso ed Eurialo, Nicodemo, gl’eroi di Vico, “la verita in dialogo”, soggetto, intersoggetivita, lo spirito oggetivo, spiriti intersoggetivi, Apollo su Nicodemo. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Caramella” – The Swimming-Pool Library.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Caramello: la ragione conversazionale e l’implictatura conversazionale dell’interpretare – scuola di Torino – filosofia torinese – filosofia piemontese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Torino). Filosofo torinese. Filosofo piemontese. Filosofo italiano. Torino, Piemonte. Grice: “I love Caramello – he exemplifies all that I say about latitudinal and longitudinal unities of philosophy – Aquinas is a ‘great,’ and Caramello has dedicated his life to him!”  Studia al prestigioso liceo classico Gioberti di Torino, entra in seminario e riceve l'ordinazione presbiteriale con una speciale dispensa papale dovuta alla giovane età a cui aveva completato gli studi. Si laurea a Torino. Insegna a Torino, e Chieri. Studia e cura Aquino. Praemittit autem huic operi philosophus prooemium, in quo sigillatim exponit ea, quae in hoc libro sunt tractanda. Et quia omnis scientia praemittit ea, quae de principiis sunt; partes autem compositorum sunt eorum principia; ideo oportet intendenti tractare de enunciatione praemittere de partibus eius. Unde dicit: primum oportet constituere, idest definire quid sit nomen et quid sit verbum. In Graeco habetur, primum oportet poni et idem significat. Quia enim demonstrationes definitiones praesupponunt, ex quibus concludunt, merito dicuntur positiones. Et ideo praemittuntur hic solae definitiones eorum, de quibus agendum est: quia ex definitionibus alia cognoscuntur.  Si quis autem quaerat, cum in libro praedicamentorum de simplicibus dictum sit, quae fuit necessitas ut hic rursum de nomine et verbo determinaretur; ad hoc dicendum quod simplicium dictionum triplex potest esse consideratio. Una quidem, secundum quod absolute significant simplices intellectus, et sic earum consideratio pertinet ad librum praedicamentorum. Alio modo, secundum rationem, prout sunt partes enunciationis; et sic determinatur de eis in hoc libro; et ideo traduntur sub ratione nominis et verbi: de quorum ratione est quod significent aliquid cum tempore vel sine tempore, et alia huiusmodi, quae pertinent ad rationem dictionum, secundum quod constituunt enunciationem. Tertio modo, considerantur secundum quod ex eis constituitur ordo syllogisticus, et sic determinatur de eis sub ratione terminorum in libro priorum.  Potest iterum dubitari quare, praetermissis aliis orationis partibus, de solo nomine et verbo determinet. Ad quod dicendum est quod, quia de simplici enunciatione determinare intendit, sufficit ut solas illas partes enunciationis pertractet, ex quibus ex necessitate simplex oratio constat. Potest autem ex solo nomine et verbo simplex enunciatio fieri, non autem ex aliis orationis partibus sine his; et ideo sufficiens ei fuit de his duabus determinare. Vel potest dici quod sola nomina et verba sunt principales orationis partes. Sub nominibus enim comprehenduntur pronomina, quæ, etsi non nominant naturam, personam tamen determinant, et ideo loco nominum ponuntur: sub verbo vero participium, quod consignificat tempus: quamvis et cum nomine convenientiam habeat. Alia vero sunt magis colligationes partium orationis, significantes habitudinem unius ad aliam, quam orationis partes; sicut clavi et alia huiusmodi non sunt partes navis, sed partium navis coniunctiones.  His igitur præmissis quasi principiis, subiungit de his, quæ pertinent ad principalem intentionem, dicens: postea quid negatio et quid affirmatio, quæ sunt enunciationis partes: non quidem integrales, sicut nomen et verbum (alioquin oporteret omnem enunciationem ex affirmatione et negatione compositam esse), sed partes subiectivæ, idest species. Quod quidem nunc supponatur, posterius autem manifestabitur.  Sed potest dubitari: cum enunciatio dividatur in categoricam et hypotheticam, quare de his non facit mentionem, sicut de affirmatione et negatione. Et potest dici quod hypothetica enunciatio ex pluribus categoricis componitur. Unde non differunt nisi secundum differentiam unius et multi. Vel potest dici, et melius, quod hypothetica enunciatio non continet absolutam veritatem, cuius cognitio requiritur in demonstratione, ad quam liber iste principaliter ordinatur; sed significat aliquid verum esse ex suppositione: quod non sufficit in scientiis demonstrativis, nisi confirmetur per absolutam veritatem simplicis enunciationis. Et ideo Aristoteles prætermisit tractatum de hypotheticis enu nciationibus et syllogismis. Subdit autem, et enunciatio, quæ est genus negationis et affirmationis; et oratio, quæ est genus enunciationis.  Si quis ulterius quærat, quare non facit ulterius mentionem de voce, dicendum est quod vox est quoddam naturale; unde pertinet ad considerationem naturalis philosophiæ, ut patet in secundo de anima, et in ultimo de generatione animalium. Unde etiam non est proprie orationis genus, sed assumitur ad constitutionem orationis, sicut res naturales ad constitutionem artificialium. Videtur autem ordo enunciationis esse præposterus: nam affirmatio naturaliter est prior negatione, et iis prior est enunciatio, sicut genus; et per consequens oratio enunciatione. Sed dicendum quod, quia a partibus inceperat enumerare, procedit a partibus ad totum. Negationem autem, quæ divisionem continet, eadem ratione præponit affirmationi, quæ consistit in compositione: quia divisio magis accedit ad partes, compositio vero magis accedit ad totum. Vel potest dici, secundum quosdam, quod præmittitur negatio, quia in iis quæ possunt esse et non esse, prius est non esse, quod significat negatio, quam esse, quod significat affirmatio. Sed tamen, quia sunt species ex æquo dividentes genus, sunt simul natura; unde non refert quod eorum præponatur. Præmisso prooemio, philosophus accedit ad propositum exequendum. Et quia ea, de quibus promiserat se dicturum, sunt voces significativæ complexæ vel incomplexæ, ideo præmittit tractatum de significatione vocum: et deinde de vocibus significativis determinat de quibus in prooemio se dicturum promiserat. Et hoc ibi: nomen ergo est vox significativa et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, determinat qualis sit significatio vocum; secundo, ostendit differentiam significationum vocum complexarum et incomplexarum; ibi: est autem quemadmodum et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo quidem, præmittit ordinem significationis vocum; secundo, ostendit qualis sit vocum significatio, utrum sit ex natura vel ex impositione; ibi: et quemadmodum nec litteræ et cetera.  Est ergo considerandum quod circa primum tria proponit, ex quorum uno intelligitur quartum. Proponit enim Scripturam, voces et animæ passiones, ex quibus intelliguntur res. Nam passio est ex impressione alicuius agentis; et sic passiones animæ originem habent ab ipsis rebus. Et si quidem homo esset naturaliter animal solitarium, sufficerent sibi animæ passiones, quibus ipsis rebus conformaretur, ut earum notitiam in se haberet; sed quia homo est animal naturaliter politicum et sociale, necesse fuit quod conceptiones unius hominis innotescerent aliis, quod fit per vocem; et ideo necesse fuit esse voces significativas, ad hoc quod homines ad invicem conviverent. Unde illi, qui sunt diversarum linguarum, non possunt bene convivere ad invicem. Rursum si homo uteretur sola cognitione sensitiva, quæ respicit solum ad hic et nunc, sufficeret sibi ad convivendum aliis vox significativa, sicut et cæteris animalibus, quæ per quasdam voces, suas conceptiones invicem sibi manifestant: sed quia homo utitur etiam intellectuali cognitione, quæ abstrahit ab hic et nunc; consequitur ipsum sollicitudo non solum de præsentibus secundum locum et tempus, sed etiam de his quæ distant loco et futura sunt tempore. Unde ut homo conceptiones suas etiam his qui distant secundum locum et his qui venturi sunt in futuro tempore manifestet, necessarius fuit usus Scripturæ.  Sed quia logica ordinatur ad cognitionem de rebus sumendam, significatio vocum, quæ est immediata ipsis conceptionibus intellectus, pertinet ad principalem considerationem ipsius; significatio autem litterarum, tanquam magis remota, non pertinet ad eius considerationem, sed magis ad considerationem grammatici. Et ideo exponens ordinem significationum non incipit a litteris, sed a vocibus: quarum primo significationem exponens, dicit: sunt ergo ea, quæ sunt in voce, notæ, idest, signa earum passionum quæ sunt in anima. Dicit autem ergo, quasi ex præmissis concludens: quia supra dixerat determinandum esse de nomine et verbo et aliis prædictis; hæc autem sunt voces significativæ; ergo oportet vocum significationem exponere.  Utitur autem hoc modo loquendi, ut dicat, ea quæ sunt in voce, et non, voces, ut quasi continuatim loquatur cum prædictis. Dixerat enim dicendum esse de nomine et verbo et aliis huiusmodi. Hæc autem tripliciter habent esse. Uno quidem modo, in conceptione intellectus; alio modo, in prolatione vocis; tertio modo, in conscriptione litterarum. Dicit ergo, ea quæ sunt in voce etc.; ac si dicat, nomina et verba et alia consequentia, quæ tantum sunt in voce, sunt notæ. Vel, quia non omnes voces sunt significativæ, et earum quædam sunt significativæ naturaliter, quæ longe sunt a ratione nominis et verbi et aliorum consequentium; ut appropriet suum dictum ad ea de quibus intendit, ideo dicit, ea quæ sunt in voce, idest quæ continentur sub voce, sicut partes sub toto. Vel, quia vox est quoddam naturale, nomen autem et verbum significant ex institutione humana, quæ advenit rei naturali sicut materiæ, ut forma lecti ligno; ideo ad designandum nomina et verba et alia consequentia dicit, ea quæ sunt in voce, ac si de lecto diceretur, ea quæ sunt in ligno. Circa id autem quod dicit, earum quæ sunt in anima passionum, considerandum est quod passiones animæ communiter dici solent appetitus sensibilis affectiones, sicut ira, gaudium et alia huiusmodi, ut dicitur in II Ethicorum. Et verum est quod huiusmodi passiones significant naturaliter quædam voces hominum, ut gemitus infirmorum, et aliorum animalium, ut dicitur in I politicæ. Sed nunc sermo est de vocibus significativis ex institutione humana; et ideo oportet passiones animæ hic intelligere intellectus conceptiones, quas nomina et verba et orationes significant immediate, secundum sententiam Aristotelis. Non enim potest esse quod significent immediate ipsas res, ut ex ipso modo significandi apparet: significat enim hoc nomen homo naturam humanam in abstractione a singularibus. Unde non potest esse quod significet immediate hominem singularem; unde Platonici posuerunt quod significaret ipsam ideam hominis separatam. Sed quia hoc secundum suam abstractionem non subsistit realiter secundum sententiam Aristotelis, sed est in solo intellectu; ideo necesse fuit Aristoteli dicere quod voces significant intellectus conceptiones immediate et eis mediantibus res.  Sed quia non est consuetum quod conceptiones intellectus Aristoteles nominet passiones; ideo Andronicus posuit hunc librum non esse Aristotelis. Sed manifeste invenitur in 1 de anima quod passiones animæ vocat omnes animæ operationes. Unde et ipsa conceptio intellectus passio dici potest. Vel quia intelligere nostrum non est sine phantasmate: quod non est sine corporali passione; unde et imaginativam philosophus in III de anima vocat passivum intellectum. Vel quia extenso nomine passionis ad omnem receptionem, etiam ipsum intelligere intellectus possibilis quoddam pati est, ut dicitur in III de anima. Utitur autem potius nomine passionum, quam intellectuum: tum quia ex aliqua animæ passione provenit, puta ex amore vel odio, ut homo interiorem conceptum per vocem alteri significare velit: tum etiam quia significatio vocum refertur ad conceptionem intellectus, secundum quod oritur a rebus per modum cuiusdam impressionis vel passionis.  Secundo, cum dicit: et ea quæ scribuntur etc., agit de significatione Scripturæ: et secundum Alexandrum hoc inducit ad manifestandum præcedentem sententiam per modum similitudinis, ut sit sensus: ita ea quæ sunt in voce sunt signa passionum animæ, sicut et litteræ sunt signa vocum. Quod etiam manifestat per sequentia, cum dicit: et quemadmodum nec litteræ etc.; inducens hoc quasi signum præcedentis. Quod enim litteræ significent voces, significatur per hoc, quod, sicut sunt diversæ voces apud diversos, ita et diversæ litteræ. Et secundum hanc expositionem, ideo non dixit, et litteræ eorum quæ sunt in voce, sed ea quæ scribuntur: quia dicuntur litteræ etiam in prolatione et Scriptura, quamvis magis proprie, secundum quod sunt in Scriptura, dicantur litteræ; secundum autem quod sunt in prolatione, dicantur elementa vocis. Sed quia Aristoteles non dicit, sicut et ea quæ scribuntur, sed continuam narrationem facit, melius est ut dicatur, sicut Porphyrius exposuit, quod Aristoteles procedit ulterius ad complendum ordinem significationis. Postquam enim dixerat quod nomina et verba, quæ sunt in voce, sunt signa eorum quæ sunt in anima, continuatim subdit quod nomina et verba quæ scribuntur, signa sunt eorum nominum et verborum quæ sunt in voce. Deinde cum dicit: et quemadmodum nec litteræ etc., ostendit differentiam præmissorum significantium et significatorum, quantum ad hoc, quod est esse secundum naturam, vel non esse. Et circa hoc tria facit. Primo enim, ponit quoddam signum, quo manifestatur quod nec voces nec litteræ naturaliter significant. Ea enim, quæ naturaliter significant sunt eadem apud omnes. Significatio autem litterarum et vocum, de quibus nunc agimus, non est eadem apud omnes. Sed hoc quidem apud nullos unquam dubitatum fuit quantum ad litteras: quarum non solum ratio significandi est ex impositione, sed etiam ipsarum formatio fit per artem. Voces autem naturaliter formantur; unde et apud quosdam dubitatum fuit, utrum naturaliter significent. Sed Aristoteles hic determinat ex similitudine litterarum, quæ sicut non sunt eædem apud omnes, ita nec voces. Unde manifeste relinquitur quod sicut nec litteræ, ita nec voces naturaliter significant, sed ex institutione humana. Voces autem illæ, quæ naturaliter significant, sicut gemitus infirmorum et alia huiusmodi, sunt eadem apud omnes.  Secundo, ibi: quorum autem etc., ostendit passiones animæ naturaliter esse, sicut et res, per hoc quod eædem sunt apud omnes. Unde dicit: quorum autem; idest sicut passiones animæ sunt eædem omnibus (quorum primorum, idest quarum passionum primarum, hæ, scilicet voces, sunt notæ, idest signa; comparantur enim passiones animæ ad voces, sicut primum ad secundum: voces enim non proferuntur, nisi ad exprimendum interiores animæ passiones), et res etiam eædem, scilicet sunt apud omnes, quorum, idest quarum rerum, hæ, scilicet passiones animæ sunt similitudines. Ubi attendendum est quod litteras dixit esse notas, idest signa vocum, et voces passionum animæ similiter; passiones autem animæ dicit esse similitudines rerum: et hoc ideo, quia res non cognoscitur ab anima nisi per aliquam sui similitudinem existentem vel in sensu vel in intellectu. Litteræ autem ita sunt signa vocum, et voces passionum, quod non attenditur ibi aliqua ratio similitudinis, sed sola ratio institutionis, sicut et in multis aliis signis: ut tuba est signum belli. In passionibus autem animæ oportet attendi rationem similitudinis ad exprimendas res, quia naturaliter eas designant, non ex institutione.  Obiiciunt autem quidam, ostendere volentes contra hoc quod dicit passiones animæ, quas significant voces, esse omnibus easdem. Primo quidem, quia diversi diversas sententias habent de rebus, et ita non videntur esse eædem apud omnes animæ passiones. Ad quod respondet Boethius quod Aristoteles hic nominat passiones animæ conceptiones intellectus, qui numquam decipitur; et ita oportet eius conceptiones esse apud omnes easdem: quia, si quis a vero discordat, hic non intelligit. Sed quia etiam in intellectu potest esse falsum, secundum quod componit et dividit, non autem secundum quod cognoscit quod quid est, idest essentiam rei, ut dicitur in III de anima; referendum est hoc ad simplices intellectus conceptiones (quas significant voces incomplexæ), quæ sunt eædem apud omnes: quia, si quis vere intelligit quid est homo, quodcunque aliud aliquid, quam hominem apprehendat, non intelligit hominem. Huiusmodi autem simplices conceptiones intellectus sunt, quas primo voces significant. Unde dicitur in IV metaphysicæ quod ratio, quam significat nomen, est definitio. Et ideo signanter dicit: quorum primorum hæ notæ sunt, ut scilicet referatur ad primas conceptiones a vocibus primo significatas.  Sed adhuc obiiciunt aliqui de nominibus æquivocis, in quibus eiusdem vocis non est eadem passio, quæ significatur apud omnes. Et respondet ad hoc Porphyrius quod unus homo, qui vocem profert, ad unam intellectus conceptionem significandam eam refert; et si aliquis alius, cui loquitur, aliquid aliud intelligat, ille qui loquitur, se exponendo, faciet quod referet intellectum ad idem. Sed melius dicendum est quod intentio Aristotelis non est asserere identitatem conceptionis animæ per comparationem ad vocem, ut scilicet unius vocis una sit conceptio: quia voces sunt diversæ apud diversos; sed intendit asserere identitatem conceptionum animæ per comparationem ad res, quas similiter dicit esse easdem.  Tertio, ibi: de his itaque etc., excusat se a diligentiori harum consideratione: quia quales sint animæ passiones, et quomodo sint rerum similitudines, dictum est in libro de anima. Non enim hoc pertinet ad logicum negocium, sed ad naturale. Postquam philosophus tradidit ordinem significationis vocum, hic agit de diversa vocum significatione: quarum quædam significant verum vel falsum, quædam non. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, præmittit differentiam; secundo, manifestat eam; ibi: circa compositionem enim et cetera. Quia vero conceptiones intellectus præambulæ sunt ordine naturæ vocibus, quæ ad eas exprimendas proferuntur, ideo ex similitudine differentiæ, quæ est circa intellectum, assignat differentiam, quæ est circa significationes vocum: ut scilicet hæc manifestatio non solum sit ex simili, sed etiam ex causa quam imitantur effectus.  Est ergo considerandum quod, sicut in principio dictum est, duplex est operatio intellectus, ut traditur in III de anima; in quarum una non invenitur verum et falsum, in altera autem invenitur. Et hoc est quod dicit quod in anima aliquoties est intellectus sine vero et falso, aliquoties autem ex necessitate habet alterum horum. Et quia voces significativæ formantur ad exprimendas conceptiones intellectus, ideo ad hoc quod signum conformetur signato, necesse est quod etiam vocum significativarum similiter quædam significent sine vero et falso, quædam autem cum vero et falso.  Deinde cum dicit: circa compositionem etc., manifestat quod dixerat. Et primo, quantum ad id quod dixerat de intellectu; secundo, quantum ad id quod dixerat de assimilatione vocum ad intellectum; ibi: nomina igitur ipsa et verba et cetera. Ad ostendendum igitur quod intellectus quandoque est sine vero et falso, quandoque autem cum altero horum, dicit primo quod veritas et falsitas est circa compositionem et divisionem. Ubi oportet intelligere quod una duarum operationum intellectus est indivisibilium intelligentia: in quantum scilicet intellectus intelligit absolute cuiusque rei quidditatem sive essentiam per seipsam, puta quid est homo vel quid album vel quid aliud huiusmodi. Alia vero operatio intellectus est, secundum quod huiusmodi simplicia concepta simul componit et dividit. Dicit ergo quod in hac secunda operatione intellectus, idest componentis et dividentis, invenitur veritas et falsitas: relinquens quod in prima operatione non invenitur, ut etiam traditur in III de anima.  Sed circa hoc primo videtur esse dubium: quia cum divisio fiat per resolutionem ad indivisibilia sive simplicia, videtur quod sicut in simplicibus non est veritas vel falsitas, ita nec in divisione. Sed dicendum est quod cum conceptiones intellectus sint similitudines rerum, ea quæ circa intellectum sunt dupliciter considerari et nominari possunt. Uno modo, secundum se: alio modo, secundum rationes rerum quarum sunt similitudines. Sicut imago Herculis secundum se quidem dicitur et est cuprum; in quantum autem est similitudo Herculis nominatur homo. Sic etiam, si consideremus ea quæ sunt circa intellectum secundum se, semper est compositio, ubi est veritas et falsitas; quæ nunquam invenitur in intellectu, nisi per hoc quod intellectus comparat unum simplicem conceptum alteri. Sed si referatur ad rem, quandoque dicitur compositio, quandoque dicitur divisio. Compositio quidem, quando intellectus comparat unum conceptum alteri, quasi apprehendens coniunctionem aut identitatem rerum, quarum sunt conceptiones; divisio autem, quando sic comparat unum conceptum alteri, ut apprehendat res esse diversas. Et per hunc etiam modum in vocibus affirmatio dicitur compositio, in quantum coniunctionem ex parte rei significat; negatio vero dicitur divisio, in quantum significat rerum separationem.  Ulterius autem videtur quod non solum in compositione et divisione veritas consistat. Primo quidem, quia etiam res dicitur vera vel falsa, sicut dicitur aurum verum vel falsum. Dicitur etiam quod ens et verum convertuntur. Unde videtur quod etiam simplex conceptio intellectus, quæ est similitudo rei, non careat veritate et falsitate. Præterea, philosophus dicit in Lib. de anima quod sensus propriorum sensibilium semper est verus; sensus autem non componvel dividit; non ergo in sola compositione vel divisione est veritas. Item, in intellectu divino nulla est compositio, ut probatur in XII metaphysicæ; et tamen ibi est prima et summa veritas; non ergo veritas est solum circa compositionem et divisionem.  Ad huiusmodi igitur evidentiam considerandum est quod veritas in aliquo invenitur dupliciter: uno modo, sicut in eo quod est verum: alio modo, sicut in dicente vel cognoscente verum. Invenitur autem veritas sicut in eo quod est verum tam in simplicibus, quam in compositis; sed sicut in dicente vel cognoscente verum, non invenitur nisi secundum compositionem et divisionem. Quod quidem sic patet.  Verum enim, ut philosophus dicit in VI Ethicorum, est bonum intellectus. Unde de quocumque dicatur verum, oportet quod hoc sit per respectum ad intellectum. Comparantur autem ad intellectum voces quidem sicut signa, res autem sicut ea quorum intellectus sunt similitudines. Considerandum autem quod aliqua res comparatur ad intellectum dupliciter. Uno quidem modo, sicut mensura ad mensuratum, et sic comparantur res naturales ad intellectum speculativum humanum. Et ideo intellectus dicitur verus secundum quod conformatur rei, falsus autem secundum quod discordat a re. Res autem naturalis non dicitur esse vera per comparationem ad intellectum nostrum, sicut posuerunt quidam antiqui naturales, existimantes rerum veritatem esse solum in hoc, quod est videri: secundum hoc enim sequeretur quod contradictoria essent simul vera, quia contradictoria cadunt sub diversorum opinionibus. Dicuntur tamen res aliquæ veræ vel falsæ per comparationem ad intellectum nostrum, non essentialiter vel formaliter, sed effective, in quantum scilicet natæ sunt facere de se veram vel falsam existimationem; et secundum hoc dicitur aurum verum vel falsum. Alio autem modo, res comparantur ad intellectum, sicut mensuratum ad mensuram, ut patet in intellectu practico, qui est causa rerum. Unde opus artificis dicitur esse verum, in quantum attingit ad rationem artis; falsum vero, in quantum deficit a ratione artis.  Et quia omnia etiam naturalia comparantur ad intellectum divinum, sicut artificiata ad artem, consequens est ut quælibet res dicatur esse vera secundum quod habet propriam formam, secundum quam imitatur artem divinam. Nam falsum aurum est verum aurichalcum. Et hoc modo ens et verum convertuntur, quia quælibet res naturalis per suam formam arti divinæ conformatur. Unde philosophus in I physicæ, formam nominat quoddam divinum.  Et sicut res dicitur vera per comparationem ad suam mensuram, ita etiam et sensus vel intellectus, cuius mensura est res extra animam. Unde sensus dicitur verus, quando per formam suam conformatur rei extra animam existenti. Et sic intelligitur quod sensus proprii sensibilis sit verus. Et hoc etiam modo intellectus apprehendens quod quid est absque compositione et divisione, semper est verus, ut dicitur in III de anima. Est autem considerandum quod quamvis sensus proprii obiecti sit verus, non tamen cognoscit hoc esse verum. Non enim potest cognoscere habitudinem conformitatis suæ ad rem, sed solam rem apprehendit; intellectus autem potest huiusmodi habitudinem conformitatis cognoscere; et ideo solus intellectus potest cognoscere veritatem. Unde et philosophus dicit in VI metaphysicæ quod veritas est solum in mente, sicut scilicet in cognoscente veritatem. Cognoscere autem prædictam conformitatis habitudinem nihil est aliud quam iudicare ita esse in re vel non esse: quod est componere et dividere; et ideo intellectus non cognoscit veritatem, nisi componendo vel dividendo per suum iudicium. Quod quidem iudicium, si consonet rebus, erit verum, puta cum intellectus iudicat rem esse quod est, vel non esse quod non est. Falsum autem quando dissonat a re, puta cum iudicat non esse quod est, vel esse quod non est. Unde patet quod veritas et falsitas sicut in cognoscente et dicente non est nisi circa compositionem et divisionem. Et hoc modo philosophus loquitur hic. Et quia voces sunt signa intellectuum, erit vox vera quæ significat verum intellectum, falsa autem quæ significat falsum intellectum: quamvis vox, in quantum est res quædam, dicatur vera sicut et aliæ res. Unde hæc vox, homo est asinus, est vere vox et vere signum; sed quia est signum falsi, ideo dicitur falsa.  Sciendum est autem quod philosophus de veritate hic loquitur secundum quod pertinet ad intellectum humanum, qui iudicat de conformitate rerum et intellectus componendo et dividendo. Sed iudicium intellectus divini de hoc est absque compositione et divisione: quia sicut etiam intellectus noster intelligit materialia immaterialiter, ita etiam intellectus divinus cognoscit compositionem et divisionem simpliciter.  Deinde cum dicit: nomina igitur ipsa et verba etc., manifestat quod dixerat de similitudine vocum ad intellectum. Et primo, manifestat propositum; secundo, probat per signum; ibi: huius autem signum et cetera. Concludit ergo ex præmissis quod, cum solum circa compositionem et divisionem sit veritas et falsitas in intellectu, consequens est quod ipsa nomina et verba, divisim accepta, assimilentur intellectui qui est sine compositione et divisione; sicut cum homo vel album dicitur, si nihil aliud addatur: non enim verum adhuc vel falsum est; sed postea quando additur esse vel non esse, fit verum vel falsum.  Nec est instantia de eo, qui per unicum nomen veram responsionem dat ad interrogationem factam; ut cum quærenti: quid natat in mari? Aliquis respondet, piscis. Nam intelligitur verbum quod fuit in interrogatione positum. Et sicut nomen per se positum non significat verum vel falsum, ita nec verbum per se dictum. Nec est instantia de verbo primæ et secundæ personæ, et de verbo exceptæ actionis: quia in his intelligitur certus et determinatus nominativus. Unde est implicita compositio, licet non explicita.  Deinde cum dicit: signum autem etc., inducit signum ex nomine composito, scilicet Hircocervus, quod componitur ex hirco et cervus et quod in Græco dicitur Tragelaphos; nam tragos est hircus, et elaphos cervus. Huiusmodi enim nomina significant aliquid, scilicet quosdam conceptus simplices, licet rerum compositarum; et ideo non est verum vel falsum, nisi quando additur esse vel non esse, per quæ exprimitur iudicium intellectus. Potest autem addi esse vel non esse, vel secundum præsens tempus, quod est esse vel non esse in actu, et ideo hoc dicitur esse simpliciter; vel secundum tempus præteritum, aut futurum, quod non est esse simpliciter, sed secundum quid; ut cum dicitur aliquid fuisse vel futurum esse. Signanter autem utitur exemplo ex nomine significante quod non est in rerum natura, in quo statim falsitas apparet, et quod sine compositione et divisione non possit verum vel falsum esse.  Postquam philosophus determinavit de ordine significationis vocum, hic accedit ad determinandum de ipsis vocibus significativis. Et quia principaliter intendit de enunciatione, quæ est subiectum huius libri; in qualibet autem scientia oportet prænoscere principia subiecti; ideo primo, determinat de principiis enunciationis; secundo, de ipsa enunciatione; ibi: enunciativa vero non omnis et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo enim, determinat principia quasi materialia enunciationis, scilicet partes integrales ipsius; secundo, determinat principium formale, scilicet orationem, quæ est enunciationis genus; ibi: oratio autem est vox significativa et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, determinat de nomine, quod significat rei substantiam; secundo, determinat de verbo, quod significat actionem vel passionem procedentem a re; ibi: verbum autem est quod consignificat tempus et cetera. Circa primum tria facit: primo, definit nomen; secundo, definitionem exponit; ibi: in nomine enim quod est equiferus etc.; tertio, excludit quædam, quæ perfecte rationem nominis non habent, ibi: non homo vero non est nomen.  Circa primum considerandum est quod definitio ideo dicitur terminus, quia includit totaliter rem; ita scilicet, quod nihil rei est extra definitionem, cui scilicet definitio non conveniat; nec aliquid aliud est infra definitionem, cui scilicet definitio conveniat.  Et ideo quinque ponit in definitione nominis. Primo, ponitur vox per modum generis, per quod distinguitur nomen ab omnibus sonis, qui non sunt voces. Nam vox est sonus ab ore animalis prolatus, cum imaginatione quadam, ut dicitur in II de anima. Additur autem prima differentia, scilicet significativa, ad differentiam quarumcumque vocum non significantium, sive sit vox litterata et articulata, sicut biltris, sive non litterata et non articulata, sicut sibilus pro nihilo factus. Et quia de significatione vocum in superioribus actum est, ideo ex præmissis concludit quod nomen est vox significativa.  Sed cum vox sit quædam res naturalis, nomen autem non est aliquid naturale sed ab hominibus institutum, videtur quod non debuit genus nominis ponere vocem, quæ est ex natura, sed magis signum, quod est ex institutione; ut diceretur: nomen est signum vocale; sicut etiam convenientius definiretur scutella, si quis diceret quod est vas ligneum, quam si quis diceret quod est lignum formatum in vas.  Sed dicendum quod artificialia sunt quidem in genere substantiæ ex parte materiæ, in genere autem accidentium ex parte formæ: nam formæ artificialium accidentia sunt. Nomen ergo significat formam accidentalem ut concretam subiecto. Cum autem in definitione omnium accidentium oporteat poni subiectum, necesse est quod, si qua nomina accidens in abstracto significant quod in eorum definitione ponatur accidens in recto, quasi genus, subiectum autem in obliquo, quasi differentia; ut cum dicitur, simitas est curvitas nasi. Si qua vero nomina accidens significant in concreto, in eorum definitione ponitur materia, vel subiectum, quasi genus, et accidens, quasi differentia; ut cum dicitur, simum est nasus curvus. Si igitur nomina rerum artificialium significant formas accidentales, ut concretas subiectis naturalibus, convenientius est, ut in eorum definitione ponatur res naturalis quasi genus, ut dicamus quod scutella est lignum figuratum, et similiter quod nomen est vox significativa. Secus autem esset, si nomina artificialium acciperentur, quasi significantia ipsas formas artificiales in abstracto.  Tertio, ponit secundam differentiam cum dicit: secundum placitum, idest secundum institutionem humanam a beneplacito hominis procedentem. Et per hoc differt nomen a vocibus significantibus naturaliter, sicut sunt gemitus infirmorum et voces brutorum animalium.  Quarto, ponit tertiam differentiam, scilicet sine tempore, per quod differt nomen a verbo. Sed videtur hoc esse falsum: quia hoc nomen dies vel annus significat tempus. Sed dicendum quod circa tempus tria possunt considerari. Primo quidem, ipsum tempus, secundum quod est res quædam, et sic potest significari a nomine, sicut quælibet alia res. Alio modo, potest considerari id, quod tempore mensuratur, in quantum huiusmodi: et quia id quod primo et principaliter tempore mensuratur est motus, in quo consistit actio et passio, ideo verbum quod significat actionem vel passionem, significat cum tempore. Substantia autem secundum se considerata, prout significatur per nomen et pronomen, non habet in quantum huiusmodi ut tempore mensuretur, sed solum secundum quod subiicitur motui, prout per participium significatur. Et ideo verbum et participium significant cum tempore, non autem nomen et pronomen. Tertio modo, potest considerari ipsa habitudo temporis mensurantis; quod significatur per adverbia temporis, ut cras, heri et huiusmodi.  Quinto, ponit quartam differentiam cum subdit: cuius nulla pars est significativa separata, scilicet a toto nomine; comparatur tamen ad significationem nominis secundum quod est in toto. Quod ideo est, quia significatio est quasi forma nominis; nulla autem pars separata habet formam totius, sicut manus separata ab homine non habet formam humanam. Et per hoc distinguitur nomen ab oratione, cuius pars significat separata; ut cum dicitur, homo iustus.  Deinde cum dicit: in nomine enim quod est etc., manifestat præmissam definitionem. Et primo, quantum ad ultimam particulam; secundo, quantum ad tertiam; ibi: secundum vero placitum et cetera. Nam primæ duæ particulæ manifestæ sunt ex præmissis; tertia autem particula, scilicet sine temporeit, manifestabitur in sequentibus in tractatu de verbo. Circa primum duo facit: primo, manifestat propositum per nomina composita; secundo, ostendit circa hoc differentiam inter nomina simplicia et composita; ibi: at vero non quemadmodum et cetera. Manifestat ergo primo quod pars nominis separata nihil significat, per nomina composita, in quibus hoc magis videtur. In hoc enim nomine quod est equiferus, hæc pars ferus, per se nihil significat sicut significat in hac oratione, quæ est equus ferus. Cuius ratio est quod unum nomen imponitur ad significandum unum simplicem intellectum; aliud autem est id a quo imponitur nomen ad significandum, ab eo quod nomen significat; sicut hoc nomen lapis imponitur a læsione pedis, quam non significat: quod tamen imponitur ad significandum conceptum cuiusdam rei. Et inde est quod pars nominis compositi, quod imponitur ad significandum conceptum simplicem, non significat partem conceptionis compositæ, a qua imponitur nomen ad significandum. Sed oratio significat ipsam conceptionem compositam: unde pars orationis significat partem conceptionis compositæ.  Deinde cum dicit: at vero non etc., ostendit quantum ad hoc differentiam inter nomina simplicia et composita, et dicit quod non ita se habet in nominibus simplicibus, sicut et in compositis: quia in simplicibus pars nullo modo est significativa, neque secundum veritatem, neque secundum apparentiam; sed in compositis vult quidem, idest apparentiam habet significandi; nihil tamen pars eius significat, ut dictum est de nomine equiferus. Hæc autem ratio differentiæ est, quia nomen simplex sicut imponitur ad significandum conceptum simplicem, ita etiam imponitur ad significandum ab aliquo simplici conceptu; nomen vero compositum imponitur a composita conceptione, ex qua habet apparentiam quod pars eius significet.  Deinde cum dicit: secundum placitum etc., manifestat tertiam partem prædictæ definitionis; et dicit quod ideo dictum est quod nomen significat secundum placitum, quia nullum nomen est naturaliter. Ex hoc enim est nomen, quod significat: non autem significat naturaliter, sed ex institutione. Et hoc est quod subdit: sed quando fit nota, idest quando imponitur ad significandum. Id enim quod naturaliter significat non fit, sed naturaliter est signum. Et hoc significat cum dicit: illitterati enim soni, ut ferarum, quia scilicet litteris significari non possunt. Et dicit potius sonos quam voces, quia quædam animalia non habent vocem, eo quod carent pulmone, sed tantum quibusdam sonis proprias passiones naturaliter significant: nihil autem horum sonorum est nomen. Ex quo manifeste datur intelligi quod nomen non significat naturaliter.  Sciendum tamen est quod circa hoc fuit diversa quorumdam opinio. Quidam enim dixerunt quod nomina nullo modo naturaliter significant: nec differt quæ res quo nomine significentur. Alii vero dixerunt quod nomina omnino naturaliter significant, quasi nomina sint naturales similitudines rerum. Quidam vero dixerunt quod nomina non naturaliter significant quantum ad hoc, quod eorum significatio non est a natura, ut Aristoteles hic intendit; quantum vero ad hoc naturaliter significant quod eorum significatio congruit naturis rerum, ut Plato dixit. Nec obstat quod una res multis nominibus significatur: quia unius rei possunt esse multæ similitudines; et similiter ex diversis proprietatibus possunt uni rei multa diversa nomina imponi. Non est autem intelligendum quod dicit: quorum nihil est nomen, quasi soni animalium non habeant nomina: nominantur enim quibusdam nominibus, sicut dicitur rugitus leonis et mugitus bovis; sed quia nullus talis sonus est nomen, ut dictum est.  Deinde cum dicit: non homo vero etc., excludit quædam a nominis ratione. Et primo, nomen infinitum; secundo, casus nominum; ibi: Catonis autem vel Catoni et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod non homo non est nomen. Omne enim nomen significat aliquam naturam determinatam, ut homo; aut personam determinatam, ut pronomen; aut utrumque determinatum, ut Socrates. Sed hoc quod dico non homo, neque determinatam naturam neque determinatam personam significat. Imponitur enim a negatione hominis, quæ æqualiter dicitur de ente, et non ente. Unde non homo potest dici indifferenter, et de eo quod non est in rerum natura; ut si dicamus, Chimæra est non homo, et de eo quod est in rerum natura; sicut cum dicitur, equus est non homo. Si autem imponeretur a privatione, requireret subiectum ad minus existens: sed quia imponitur a negatione, potest dici de ente et de non ente, ut Boethius et Ammonius dicunt. Quia tamen significat per modum nominis, quod potest subiici et prædicari, requiritur ad minus suppositum in apprehensione. Non autem erat nomen positum tempore Aristotelis sub quo huiusmodi dictiones concluderentur. Non enim est oratio, quia pars eius non significat aliquid separata, sicut nec in nominibus compositis; similiter autem non est negatio, id est oratio negativa, quia huiusmodi oratio superaddit negationem affirmationi, quod non contingit hic. Et ideo novum nomen imponit huiusmodi dictioni, vocans eam nomen infinitum propter indeterminationem significationis, ut dictum est.  Deinde cum dicit: Catonis autem vel Catoni etc., excludit casus nominis; et dicit quod Catonis vel Catoni et alia huiusmodi non sunt nomina, sed solus nominativus dicitur principaliter nomen, per quem facta est impositio nominis ad aliquid significandum. Huiusmodi autem obliqui vocantur casus nominis: quia quasi cadunt per quamdam declinationis originem a nominativo, qui dicitur rectus eo quod non cadit. Stoici autem dixerunt etiam nominativos dici casus: quos grammatici sequuntur, eo quod cadunt, idest procedunt ab interiori conceptione mentis. Et dicitur rectus, eo quod nihil prohibet aliquid cadens sic cadere, ut rectum stet, sicut stilus qui cadens ligno infigitur.  Deinde cum dicit: ratio autem eius etc., ostendit consequenter quomodo se habeant obliqui casus ad nomen; et dicit quod ratio, quam significat nomen, est eadem et in aliis, scilicet casibus nominis; sed in hoc est differentia quod nomen adiunctum cum hoc verbo est vel erit vel fuit semper significat verum vel falsum: quod non contingit in obliquis. Signanter autem inducit exemplum de verbo substantivo: quia sunt quædam alia verba, scilicet impersonalia, quæ cum obliquis significant verum vel falsum; ut cum dicitur, poenitet Socratem, quia actus verbi intelligitur ferri super obliquum; ac si diceretur, poenitentia habet Socratem.  Sed contra: si nomen infinitum et casus non sunt nomina, inconvenienter data est præmissa nominis definitio, quæ istis convenit. Sed dicendum, secundum Ammonium, quod supra communius definit nomen, postmodum vero significationem nominis arctat subtrahendo hæc a nomine. Vel dicendum quod præmissa definitio non simpliciter convenit his: nomen enim infinitum nihil determinatum significat, neque casus nominis significat secundum primum placitum instituentis, ut dictum est. Postquam philosophus determinavit de nomine: hic determinat de verbo. Et circa hoc tria facit: primo, definit verbum; secundo, excludit quædam a ratione verbi; ibi: non currit autem, et non laborat etc.; tertio, ostendit convenientiam verbi ad nomen; ibi: ipsa quidem secundum se dicta verba, et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ponit definitionem verbi; secundo exponit eam; ibi: dico autem quoniam consignificat et cetera.  Est autem considerandum quod Aristoteles, brevitati studens, non ponit in definitione verbi ea quæ sunt nomini et verbo communia, relinquens ea intellectui legentis ex his quæ dixerat in definitione nominis. Ponit autem tres particulas in definitione verbi: quarum prima distinguit verbum a nomine, in hoc scilicet quod dicit quod consignificat tempus. Dictum est enim in definitione nominis quod nomen significat sine tempore. Secunda vero particula est, per quam distinguitur verbum ab oratione, scilicet cum dicitur: cuius pars nihil extra significat.  Sed cum hoc etiam positum sit in definitione nominis, videtur hoc debuisse prætermitti, sicut et quod dictum est, vox significativa ad placitum. Ad quod respondet Ammonius quod in definitione nominis hoc positum est, ut distinguatur nomen ab orationibus, quæ componuntur ex nominibus; ut cum dicitur, homo est animal. Quia vero sunt etiam quædam orationes quæ componuntur ex verbis; ut cum dicitur, ambulare est moveri, ut ab his distinguatur verbum, oportuit hoc etiam in definitione verbi iterari. Potest etiam aliter dici quod quia verbum importat compositionem, in qua perficitur oratio verum vel falsum significans, maiorem convenientiam videbatur verbum habere cum oratione, quasi quædam pars formalis ipsius, quam nomen, quod est quædam pars materialis et subiectiva orationis; et ideo oportuit iterari.  Tertia vero particula est, per quam distinguitur verbum non solum a nomine, sed etiam a participio quod significat cum tempore; unde dicit: et est semper eorum, quæ de altero prædicantur nota, idest signum: quia scilicet nomina et participia possunt poni ex parte subiecti et prædicati, sed verbum semper est ex parte prædicati.  Sed hoc videtur habere instantiam in verbis infinitivi modi, quæ interdum ponuntur ex parte subiecti; ut cum dicitur, ambulare est moveri. Sed dicendum est quod verba infinitivi modi, quando in subiecto ponuntur, habent vim nominis: unde et in Græco et in vulgari Latina locutione suscipiunt additionem articulorum sicut et nomina. Cuius ratio est quia proprium nominis est, ut significet rem aliquam quasi per se existentem; proprium autem verbi est, ut significet actionem vel passionem. Potest autem actio significari tripliciter: uno modo, per se in abstracto, velut quædam res, et sic significatur per nomen; ut cum dicitur actio, passio, ambulatio, cursus et similia; alio modo, per modum actionis, ut scilicet est egrediens a substantia et inhærens ei ut subiecto, et sic significatur per verba aliorum modorum, quæ attribuuntur prædicatis. Sed quia etiam ipse processus vel inhærentia actionis potest apprehendi ab intellectu et significari ut res quædam, inde est quod ipsa verba infinitivi modi, quæ significant ipsam inhærentiam actionis ad subiectum, possunt accipi ut verba, ratione concretionis, et ut nomina prout significant quasi res quasdam.  Potest etiam obiici de hoc quod etiam verba aliorum modorum videntur aliquando in subiecto poni; ut cum dicitur, curro est verbum. Sed dicendum est quod in tali locutione, hoc verbum curro, non sumitur formaliter, secundum quod eius significatio refertur ad rem, sed secundum quod materialiter significat ipsam vocem, quæ accipitur ut res quædam. Et ideo tam verba, quam omnes orationis partes, quando ponuntur materialiter, sumuntur in vi nominum.  Deinde cum dicit: dico vero quoniam consignificat etc., exponit definitionem positam. Et primo, quantum ad hoc quod dixerat quod consignificat tempus; secundo, quantum ad hoc quod dixerat quod est nota eorum quæ de altero prædicantur, cum dicit: et semper est et cetera. Secundam autem particulam, scilicet: cuius nulla pars extra significat, non exponit, quia supra exposita est in tractatu nominis. Exponit ergo primum quod verbum consignificat tempus, per exemplum; quia videlicet cursus, quia significat actionem non per modum actionis, sed per modum rei per se existentis, non consignificat tempus, eo quod est nomen. Curro vero cum sit verbum significans actionem, consignificat tempus, quia proprium est motus tempore mensurari; actiones autem nobis notæ sunt in tempore. Dictum est autem supra quod consignificare tempus est significare aliquid in tempore mensuratum. Unde aliud est significare tempus principaliter, ut rem quamdam, quod potest nomini convenire, aliud autem est significare cum tempore, quod non convenit nomini, sed verbo.  Deinde cum dicit: et est semper etc., exponit aliam particulam. Ubi notandum est quod quia subiectum enunciationis significatur ut cui inhæret aliquid, cum verbum significet actionem per modum actionis, de cuius ratione est ut inhæreat, semper ponitur ex parte prædicati, nunquam autem ex parte subiecti, nisi sumatur in vi nominis, ut dictum est. Dicitur ergo verbum semper esse nota eorum quæ dicuntur de altero: tum quia verbum semper significat id, quod prædicatur; tum quia in omni prædicatione oportet esse verbum, eo quod verbum importat compositionem, qua prædicatum componitur subiecto.  Sed dubium videtur quod subditur: ut eorum quæ de subiecto vel in subiecto sunt. Videtur enim aliquid dici ut de subiecto, quod essentialiter prædicatur; ut, homo est animal; in subiecto autem, sicut accidens de subiecto prædicatur; ut, homo est albus. Si ergo verba significant actionem vel passionem, quæ sunt accidentia, consequens est ut semper significent ea, quæ dicuntur ut in subiecto. Frustra igitur dicitur in subiecto vel de subiecto. Et ad hoc dicit Boethius quod utrumque ad idem pertinet. Accidens enim et de subiecto prædicatur, et in subiecto est. Sed quia Aristoteles disiunctione utitur, videtur aliud per utrumque significare. Et ideo potest dici quod cum Aristoteles dicit quod, verbum semper est nota eorum, quæ de altero prædicantur, non est sic intelligendum, quasi significata verborum sint quæ prædicantur, quia cum prædicatio videatur magis proprie ad compositionem pertinere, ipsa verba sunt quæ prædicantur, magis quam significent prædicata. Est ergo intelligendum quod verbum semper est signum quod aliqua prædicentur, quia omnis prædicatio fit per verbum ratione compositionis importatæ, sive prædicetur aliquid essentialiter sive accidentaliter.  Deinde cum dicit: non currit vero et non laborat etc., excludit quædam a ratione verbi. Et primo, verbum infinitum; secundo, verba præteriti temporis vel futuri; ibi: similiter autem curret vel currebat. Dicit ergo primo quod non currit, et non laborat, non proprie dicitur verbum. Est enim proprium verbi significare aliquid per modum actionis vel passionis; quod prædictæ dictiones non faciunt: removent enim actionem vel passionem, potius quam aliquam determinatam actionem vel passionem significent. Sed quamvis non proprie possint dici verbum, tamen conveniunt sibi ea quæ supra posita sunt in definitione verbi. Quorum primum est quod significat tempus, quia significat agere et pati, quæ sicut sunt in tempore, ita privatio eorum; unde et quies tempore mensuratur, ut habetur in VI physicorum. Secundum est quod semper ponitur ex parte prædicati, sicut et verbum: ethoc ideo, quia negatio reducitur ad genus affirmationis. Unde sicut verbum quod significat actionem vel passionem, significat aliquid ut in altero existens, ita prædictæ dictiones significant remotionem actionis vel passionis.  Si quis autem obiiciat: si prædictis dictionibus convenit definitio verbi; ergo sunt verba; dicendum est quod definitio verbi supra posita datur de verbo communiter sumpto. Huiusmodi autem dictiones negantur esse verba, quia deficiunt a perfecta ratione verbi. Nec ante Aristotelem erat nomen positum huic generi dictionum a verbis differentium; sed quia huiusmodi dictiones in aliquo cum verbis conveniunt, deficiunt tamen a determinata ratione verbi, ideo vocat ea verba infinita. Et rationem nominis assignat, quia unumquodque eorum indifferenter potest dici de eo quod est, vel de eo quod non est. Sumitur enim negatio apposita non in vi privationis, sed in vi simplicis negationis. Privatio enim supponit determinatum subiectum. Differunt tamen huiusmodi verba a verbis negativis, quia verba infinita sumuntur in vi unius dictionis, verba vero negativa in vi duarum dictionum.  Deinde cum dicit: similiter autem curret etc., excludit a verbo verba præteriti et futuri temporis; et dicit quod sicut verba infinita non sunt simpliciter verba, ita etiam curret, quod est futuri temporis, vel currebat, quod est præteriti temporis, non sunt verba, sed sunt casus verbi. Et differunt in hoc a verbo, quia verbum consignificat præsens tempus, illa vero significant tempus hinc et inde circumstans. Dicit autem signanter præsens tempus, et non simpliciter præsens, ne intelligatur præsens indivisibile, quod est instans: quia in instanti non est motus, nec actio aut passio; sed oportet accipere præsens tempus quod mensurat actionem, quæ incepit, et nondum est determinata per actum. Recte autem ea quæ consignificant tempus præteritum vel futurum, non sunt verba proprie dicta: cum enim verbum proprie sit quod significat agere vel pati, hoc est proprie verbum quod significat agere vel pati in actu, quod est agere vel pati simpliciter: sed agere vel pati in præterito vel futuro est secundum quid.  Dicuntur etiam verba præteriti vel futuri temporis rationabiliter casus verbi, quod consignificat præsens tempus; quia præteritum vel futurum dicitur per respectum ad præsens. Est enim præteritum quod fuit præsens, futurum autem quod erit præsens.  Cum autem declinatio verbi varietur per modos, tempora, numeros et personas, variatio quæ fit per numerum et personam non constituit casus verbi: quia talis variatio non est ex parte actionis, sed ex parte subiecti; sed variatio quæ est per modos et tempora respicit ipsam actionem, et ideo utraque constituit casus verbi. Nam verba imperativi vel optativi modi casus dicuntur, sicut et verba præteriti vel futuri temporis. Sed verba indicativi modi præsentis temporis non dicuntur casus, cuiuscumque sint personæ vel numeri. Deinde cum dicit: ipsa itaque etc., ostendit convenientiam verborum ad nomina. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, proponit quod intendit; secundo, manifestat propositum; ibi: et significant aliquid et cetera. Dicit ergo primo, quod ipsa verba secundum se dicta sunt nomina: quod a quibusdam exponitur de verbis quæ sumuntur in vi nominis, ut dictum est, sive sint infinitivi modi; ut cum dico, currere est moveri, sive sint alterius modi; ut cum dico, curro est verbum. Sed hæc non videtur esse intentio Aristotelis, quia ad hanc intentionem non respondent sequentia. Et ideo aliter dicendum est quod nomen hic sumitur, prout communiter significat quamlibet dictionem impositam ad significandum aliquam rem. Et quia etiam ipsum agere vel pati est quædam res, inde est quod et ipsa verba in quantum nominant, idest significant agere vel pati, sub nominibus comprehenduntur communiter acceptis. Nomen autem, prout a verbo distinguitur, significat rem sub determinato modo, prout scilicet potest intelligi ut per se existens. Unde nomina possunt subiici et prædicari.  Deinde cum dicit: et significant aliquid etc., probat propositum. Et primo, per hoc quod verba significant aliquid, sicut et nomina; secundo, per hoc quod non significant verum vel falsum, sicut nec nomina; ibi: sed si est, aut non est et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod in tantum dictum est quod verba sunt nomina, in quantum significant aliquid. Et hoc probat, quia supra dictum est quod voces significativæ significant intellectus. Unde proprium vocis significativæ est quod generet aliquem intellectum in animo audientis. Et ideo ad ostendendum quod verbum sit vox significativa, assumit quod ille, qui dicit verbum, constituit intellectum in animo audientis. Et ad hoc manifestandum inducit quod ille, qui audit, quiescit.  Sed hoc videtur esse falsum: quia sola oratio perfecta facit quiescere intellectum, non autem nomen, neque verbum si per se dicatur. Si enim dicam, homo, suspensus est animus audientis, quid de eo dicere velim; si autem dico, currit, suspensus est eius animus de quo dicam. Sed dicendum est quod cum duplex sit intellectus operatio, ut supra habitum est, ille qui dicit nomen vel verbum secundum se, constituit intellectum quantum ad primam operationem, quæ est simplex conceptio alicuius, et secundum hoc, quiescit audiens, qui in suspenso erat antequam nomen vel verbum proferretur et eius prolatio terminaretur; non autem constituit intellectum quantum ad secundam operationem, quæ est intellectus componentis et dividentis, ipsum verbum vel nomen per se dictum: nec quantum ad hoc facit quiescere audientem.  Et ideo statim subdit: sed si est, aut non est, nondum significat, idest nondum significat aliquid per modum compositionis et divisionis, aut veri vel falsi. Et hoc est secundum, quod probare intendit. Probat autem consequenter per illa verba, quæ maxime videntur significare veritatem vel falsitatem, scilicet ipsum verbum quod est esse, et verbum infinitum quod est non esse; quorum neutrum per se dictum est significativum veritatis vel falsitatis in re; unde multo minus alia. Vel potest intelligi hoc generaliter dici de omnibus verbis. Quia enim dixerat quod verbum non significat si est res vel non est, hoc consequenter manifestat, quia nullum verbum est significativum esse rei vel non esse, idest quod res sit vel non sit. Quamvis enim omne verbum finitum implicet esse, quia currere est currentem esse, et omne verbum infinitum implicet non esse, quia non currere est non currentem esse; tamen nullum verbum significat hoc totum, scilicet rem esse vel non esse.  Et hoc consequenter probat per id, de quo magis videtur cum subdit: nec si hoc ipsum est purum dixeris, ipsum quidem nihil est. Ubi notandum est quod in Græco habetur: neque si ens ipsum nudum dixeris, ipsum quidem nihil est. Ad probandum enim quod verba non significant rem esse vel non esse, assumpsit id quod est fons et origo ipsius esse, scilicet ipsum ens, de quo dicit quod nihil est (ut Alexander exponit), quia ens æquivoce dicitur de decem prædicamentis; omne autem æquivocum per se positum nihil significat, nisi aliquid addatur quod determinet eius significationem; unde nec ipsum est per se dictum significat quod est vel non est. Sed hæc expositio non videtur conveniens, tum quia ens non dicitur proprie æquivoce, sed secundum prius et posterius; unde simpliciter dictum intelligitur de eo, quod per prius dicitur: tum etiam, quia dictio æquivoca non nihil significat, sed multa significat; et quandoque hoc, quandoque illud per ipsam accipitur: tum etiam, quia talis expositio non multum facit ad intentionem præsentem. Unde Porphyrius aliter exposuit quod hoc ipsum ens non significat naturam alicuius rei, sicut hoc nomen homo vel sapiens, sed solum designat quamdam coniunctionem; unde subdit quod consignificat quamdam compositionem, quam sine compositis non est intelligere. Sed neque hoc convenienter videtur dici: quia si non significaret aliquam rem, sed solum coniunctionem, non esset neque nomen, neque verbum, sicut nec præpositiones aut coniunctiones. Et ideo aliter exponendum est, sicut Ammonius exponit, quod ipsum ens nihil est, idest non significat verum vel falsum. Et rationem huius assignat, cum subdit: consignificat autem quamdam compositionem. Nec accipitur hic, ut ipse dicit, consignificat, sicut cum dicebatur quod verbum consignificat tempus, sed consignificat, idest cum alio significat, scilicet alii adiunctum compositionem significat, quæ non potest intelligi sine extremis compositionis. Sed quia hoc commune est omnibus nominibus et verbis, non videtur hæc expositio esse secundum intentionem Aristotelis, qui assumpsit ipsum ens quasi quoddam speciale. Et ideo ut magis sequamur verba Aristotelis considerandum est quod ipse dixerat quod verbum non significat rem esse vel non esse, sed nec ipsum ens significat rem esse vel non esse. Et hoc est quod dicit, nihil est, idest non significat aliquid esse. Etenim hoc maxime videbatur de hoc quod dico ens: quia ens nihil est aliud quam quod est. Et sic videtur et rem significare, per hoc quod dico quod et esse, per hoc quod dico est. Et si quidem hæc dictio ens significaret esse principaliter, sicut significat rem quæ habet esse, procul dubio significaret aliquid esse. Sed ipsam compositionem, quæ importatur in hoc quod dico est, non principaliter significat, sed consignificat eam in quantum significat rem habentem esse. Unde talis consignificatio compositionis non sufficit ad veritatem vel falsitatem: quia compositio, in qua consistit veritas et falsitas, non potest intelligi, nisi secundum quod innectit extrema compositionis.  Si vero dicatur, nec ipsum esse, ut libri nostri habent, planior est sensus. Quod enim nullum verbum significat rem esse vel non esse, probat per hoc verbum est, quod secundum se dictum, non significat aliquid esse, licet significet esse. Et quia hoc ipsum esse videtur compositio quædam, et ita hoc verbum est, quod significat esse, potest videri significare compositionem, in qua sit verum vel falsum; ad hoc excludendum subdit quod illa compositio, quam significat hoc verbum est, non potest intelligi sine componentibus: quia dependet eius intellectus ab extremis, quæ si non apponantur, non est perfectus intellectus compositionis, ut possit in ea esse verum, vel falsum.  Ideo autem dicit quod hoc verbum est consignificat compositionem, quia non eam principaliter significat, sed ex consequenti; significat enim primo illud quod cadit in intellectu per modum actualitatis absolute: nam est, simpliciter dictum, significat in actu esse; et ideo significat per modum verbi. Quia vero actualitas, quam principaliter significat hoc verbum est, est communiter actualitas omnis formæ, vel actus substantialis vel accidentalis, inde est quod cum volumus significare quamcumque formam vel actum actualiter inesse alicui subiecto, significamus illud per hoc verbum est, vel simpliciter vel secundum quid: simpliciter quidem secundum præsens tempus; secundum quid autem secundum alia tempora. Et ideo ex consequenti hoc verbum est significat compositionem. Postquam philosophus determinavit de nomine et de verbo, quæ sunt principia materialia enunciationis, utpote partes eius existentes; nunc determinat de oratione, quæ est principium formale enunciationis, utpote genus eius existens. Et circa hoc tria facit: primo enim, proponit definitionem orationis; secundo, exponit eam; ibi: dico autem ut homo etc.; tertio, excludit errorem; ibi: est autem oratio omnis et cetera.  Circa primum considerandum est quod philosophus in definitione orationis primo ponit illud in quo oratio convenit cum nomine et verbo, cum dicit: oratio est vox significativa, quod etiam posuit in definitione nominis, et probavit de verbo quod aliquid significet. Non autem posuit in eius definitione, quia supponebat ex eo quod positum erat in definitione nominis, studens brevitati, ne idem frequenter iteraret. Iterat tamen hoc in definitione orationis, quia significatio orationis differt a significatione nominis et verbi, quia nomen vel verbum significat simplicem intellectum, oratio vero significat intellectum compositum.  Secundo autem ponit id, in quo oratio differt a nomine et verbo, cum dicit: cuius partium aliquid significativum est separatim. Supra enim dictum est quod pars nominis non significat aliquid per se separatum, sed solum quod est coniunctum ex duabus partibus. Signanter autem non dicit: cuius pars est significativa aliquid separata, sed cuius aliquid partium est significativum, propter negationes et alia syncategoremata, quæ secundum se non significant aliquid absolutum, sed solum habitudinem unius ad alterum. Sed quia duplex est significatio vocis, una quæ refertur ad intellectum compositum, alia quæ refertur ad intellectum simplicem; prima significatio competit orationi, secunda non competit orationi, sed parti orationis. Unde subdit: ut dictio, non ut affirmatio. Quasi dicat: pars orationis est significativa, sicut dictio significat, puta ut nomen et verbum, non sicut affirmatio, quæ componitur ex nomine et verbo. Facit autem mentionem solum de affirmatione et non de negatione, quia negatio secundum vocem superaddit affirmationi; unde si pars orationis propter sui simplicitatem non significat aliquid, ut affirmatio, multo minus ut negatio.  Sed contra hanc definitionem Aspasius obiicit quod videtur non omnibus partibus orationis convenire. Sunt enim quædam orationes, quarum partes significant aliquid ut affirmatio; ut puta, si sol lucet super terram, dies est; et sic de multis. Et ad hoc respondet Porphyrius quod in quocumque genere invenitur prius et posterius, debet definiri id quod prius est. Sicut cum datur definitio alicuius speciei, puta hominis, intelligitur definitio de eo quod est in actu, non de eo quod est in potentia; et ideo quia in genere orationis prius est oratio simplex, inde est quod Aristoteles prius definivit orationem simplicem. Vel potest dici, secundum Alexandrum et Ammonium, quod hic definitur oratio in communi. Unde debet poni in hac definitione id quod est commune orationi simplici et compositæ. Habere autem partes significantes aliquid ut affirmatio, competit soli orationi, compositæ; sed habere partes significantes aliquid per modum dictionis, et non per modum affirmationis, est commune orationi simplici et compositæ. Et ideo hoc debuit poni in definitione orationis. Et secundum hoc non debet intelligi esse de ratione orationis quod pars eius non sit affirmatio: sed quia de ratione orationis est quod pars eius sit aliquid quod significat per modum dictionis, et non per modum affirmationis. Et in idem redit solutio Porphyrii quantum ad sensum, licet quantum ad verba parumper differat. Quia enim Aristoteles frequenter ponit dicere pro affirmare, ne dictio pro affirmatione sumatur, subdit quod pars orationis significat ut dictio, et addit non ut affirmatio: quasi diceret, secundum sensum Porphyrii, non accipiatur nunc dictio secundum quod idem est quod affirmatio. Philosophus autem, qui dicitur Ioannes grammaticus, voluit quod hæc definitio orationis daretur solum de oratione perfecta, eo quod partes non videntur esse nisi alicuius perfecti, sicut omnes partes domus referuntur ad domum: et ideo secundum ipsum sola oratio perfecta habet partes significativas. Sed tamen hic decipiebatur, quia quamvis omnes partes referantur principaliter ad totum perfectum, quædam tamen partes referuntur ad ipsum immediate, sicut paries et tectum ad domum, et membra organica ad animal: quædam vero mediantibus partibus principalibus quarum sunt partes; sicut lapides referuntur ad domum mediante pariete; nervi autem et ossa ad animal mediantibus membris organicis, scilicet manu et pede et huiusmodi. Sic ergo omnes partes orationis principaliter referuntur ad orationem perfectam, cuius pars est oratio imperfecta, quæ etiam ipsa habet partes significantes. Unde ista definitio convenit tam orationi perfectæ, quam imperfectæ.  Deinde cum dicit: dico autem ut homo etc., exponit propositam definitionem. Et primo, manifestat verum esse quod dicitur; secundo, excludit falsum intellectum; ibi: sed non una hominis syllaba et cetera. Exponit ergo quod dixerat aliquid partium orationis esse significativum, sicut hoc nomen homo, quod est pars orationis, significat aliquid, sed non significat ut affirmatio aut negatio, quia non significat esse vel non esse. Et hoc dico non in actu, sed solum in potentia. Potest enim aliquid addi, per cuius additionem fit affirmatio vel negatio, scilicet si addatur ei verbum.  Deinde cum dicit: sed non una hominis etc., excludit falsum intellectum. Et posset hoc referri ad immediate dictum, ut sit sensus quod nomen erit affirmatio vel negatio, si quid ei addatur, sed non si addatur ei una nominis syllaba. Sed quia huic sensui non conveniunt verba sequentia, oportet quod referatur ad id, quod supra dictum est in definitione orationis, scilicet quod aliquid partium eius sit significativum separatim. Sed quia pars alicuius totius dicitur proprie illud, quod immediate venit ad constitutionem totius, non autem pars partis; ideo hoc intelligendum est de partibus ex quibus immediate constituitur oratio, scilicet de nomine et verbo, non autem de partibus nominis vel verbi, quæ sunt syllabæ vel litteræ. Et ideo dicitur quod pars orationis est significativa separata, non tamen talis pars, quæ est una nominis syllaba. Et hoc manifestat in syllabis, quæ quandoque possunt esse dictiones per se significantes: sicut hoc quod dico rex, quandoque est una dictio per se significans; in quantum vero accipitur ut una quædam syllaba huius nominis sorex, soricis, non significat aliquid per se, sed est vox sola. Dictio enim quædam est composita ex pluribus vocibus, tamen in significando habet simplicitatem, in quantum scilicet significat simplicem intellectum. Et ideo in quantum est vox composita, potest habere partem quæ sit vox, inquantum autem est simplex in significando, non potest habere partem significantem. Unde syllabæ quidem sunt voces, sed non sunt voces per se significantes. Sciendum tamen quod in nominibus compositis, quæ imponuntur ad significandum rem simplicem ex aliquo intellectu composito, partes secundum apparentiam aliquid significant, licet non secundum veritatem. Et ideo subdit quod in duplicibus, idest in nominibus compositis, syllabæ quæ possunt esse dictiones, in compositione nominis venientes, significant aliquid, scilicet in ipso composito et secundum quod sunt dictiones; non autem significant aliquid secundum se, prout sunt huiusmodi nominis partes, sed eo modo, sicut supra dictum est.  Deinde cum dicit: est autem oratio etc., excludit quemdam errorem. Fuerunt enim aliqui dicentes quod oratio et eius partes significant naturaliter, non ad placitum. Ad probandum autem hoc utebantur tali ratione. Virtutis naturalis oportet esse naturalia instrumenta: quia natura non deficit in necessariis; potentia autem interpretativa est naturalis homini; ergo instrumenta eius sunt naturalia. Instrumentum autem eius est oratio, quia per orationem virtus interpretativa interpretatur mentis conceptum: hoc enim dicimus instrumentum, quo agens operatur. Ergo oratio est aliquid naturale, non ex institutione humana significans, sed naturaliter.  Huic autem rationi, quæ dicitur esse Platonis in Lib. qui intitulatur Cratylus, Aristoteles obviando dicit quod omnis oratio est significativa, non sicut instrumentum virtutis, scilicet naturalis: quia instrumenta naturalia virtutis interpretativæ sunt guttur et pulmo, quibus formatur vox, et lingua et dentes et labia, quibus litterati ac articulati soni distinguuntur; oratio autem et partes eius sunt sicut effectus virtutis interpretativæ per instrumenta prædicta. Sicut enim virtus motiva utitur naturalibus instrumentis, sicut brachiis et manibus ad faciendum opera artificialia, ita virtus interpretativa utitur gutture et aliis instrumentis naturalibus ad faciendum orationem. Unde oratio et partes eius non sunt res naturales, sed quidam artificiales effectus. Et ideo subdit quod oratio significat ad placitum, idest secundum institutionem humanæ rationis et voluntatis, ut supra dictum est, sicut et omnia artificialia causantur ex humana voluntate et ratione. Sciendum tamen quod, si virtutem interpretativam non attribuamus virtuti motivæ, sed rationi; sic non est virtus naturalis, sed supra omnem naturam corpoream: quia intellectus non est actus alicuius corporis, sicut probatur in III de anima. Ipsa autem ratio est, quæ movet virtutem corporalem motivam ad opera artificialia, quibus etiam ut instrumentis utitur ratio: non sunt autem instrumenta alicuius virtutis corporalis. Et hoc modo ratio potest etiam uti oratione et eius partibus, quasi instrumentis: quamvis non naturaliter significent. Postquam philosophus determinavit de principiis enunciationis, hic incipit determinare de ipsa enunciatione. Et dividitur pars hæc in duas: in prima, determinat de enunciatione absolute; in secunda, de diversitate enunciationum, quæ provenit secundum ea quæ simplici enunciationi adduntur; et hoc in secundo libro; ibi: quoniam autem est de aliquo affirmatio et cetera. Prima autem pars dividitur in partes tres. In prima, definit enunciationem; in secunda, dividit eam; ibi: est autem una prima oratio etc., in tertia, agit de oppositione partium eius ad invicem; ibi: quoniam autem est enunciare et cetera. Circa primum tria facit: primo, ponit definitionem enunciationis; secundo, ostendit quod per hanc definitionem differt enunciatio ab aliis speciebus orationis; ibi: non autem in omnibus etc.; tertio, ostendit quod de sola enunciatione est tractandum, ibi: et cæteræ quidem relinquantur.  Circa primum considerandum est quod oratio, quamvis non sit instrumentum alicuius virtutis naturaliter operantis, est tamen instrumentum rationis, ut supra dictum est. Omne autem instrumentum oportet definiri ex suo fine, qui est usus instrumenti: usus autem orationis, sicut et omnis vocis significativæ est significare conceptionem intellectus, ut supra dictum est: duæ autem sunt operationes intellectus, in quarum una non invenitur veritas et falsitas, in alia autem invenitur verum vel falsum. Et ideo orationem enunciativam definit ex significatione veri et falsi, dicens quod non omnis oratio est enunciativa, sed in qua verum vel falsum est. Ubi considerandum est quod Aristoteles mirabili brevitate usus, et divisionem orationis innuit in hoc quod dicit: non omnis oratio est enunciativa, et definitionem enunciationis in hoc quod dicit: sed in qua verum vel falsum est: ut intelligatur quod hæc sit definitio enunciationis, enunciatio est oratio, in qua verum vel falsum est.  Dicitur autem in enunciatione esse verum vel falsum, sicut in signo intellectus veri vel falsi: sed sicut in subiecto est verum vel falsum in mente, ut dicitur in VI metaphysicæ, in re autem sicut in causa: quia ut dicitur in libro prædicamentorum, ab eo quod res est vel non est, oratio vera vel falsa est.  Deinde cum dicit: non autem in omnibus etc., ostendit quod per hanc definitionem enunciatio differt ab aliis orationibus. Et quidem de orationibus imperfectis manifestum est quod non significant verum vel falsum, quia cum non faciant perfectum sensum in animo audientis, manifestum est quod perfecte non exprimunt iudicium rationis, in quo consistit verum vel falsum. His igitur prætermissis, sciendum est quod perfectæ orationis, quæ complet sententiam, quinque sunt species, videlicet enunciativa, deprecativa, imperativa, interrogativa et vocativa. (Non tamen intelligendum est quod solum nomen vocativi casus sit vocativa oratio: quia oportet aliquid partium orationis significare aliquid separatim, sicut supra dictum est; sed per vocativum provocatur, sive excitatur animus audientis ad attendendum; non autem est vocativa oratio nisi plura coniungantur; ut cum dico, o bone Petre). Harum autem orationum sola enunciativa est, in qua invenitur verum vel falsum, quia ipsa sola absolute significat conceptum intellectus, in quo est verum vel falsum.  Sed quia intellectus vel ratio, non solum concipit in seipso veritatem rei tantum, sed etiam ad eius officium pertinet secundum suum conceptum alia dirigere et ordinare; ideo necesse fuit quod sicut per enunciativam orationem significatur ipse mentis conceptus, ita etiam essent aliquæ aliæ orationes significantes ordinem rationis, secundum quam alia diriguntur. Dirigitur autem ex ratione unius hominis alius homo ad tria: primo quidem, ad attendendum mente; et ad hoc pertinet vocativa oratio: secundo, ad respondendum voce; et ad hoc pertinet oratio interrogativa: tertio, ad exequendum in opere; et ad hoc pertinet quantum ad inferiores oratio imperativa; quantum autem ad superiores oratio deprecativa, ad quam reducitur oratio optativa: quia respectu superioris, homo non habet vim motivam, nisi per expressionem sui desiderii. Quia igitur istæ quatuor orationis species non significant ipsum conceptum intellectus, in quo est verum vel falsum, sed quemdam ordinem ad hoc consequentem; inde est quod in nulla earum invenitur verum vel falsum, sed solum in enunciativa, quæ significat id quod mens de rebus concipit. Et inde est quod omnes modi orationum, in quibus invenitur verum vel falsum, sub enunciatione continentur: quam quidam dicunt indicativam vel suppositivam. Dubitativa autem ad interrogativam reducitur, sicut et optativa ad deprecativam.  Deinde cum dicit: cæteræ igitur relinquantur etc., ostendit quod de sola enunciativa est agendum; et dicit quod aliæ quatuor orationis species sunt relinquendæ, quantum pertinet ad præsentem intentionem: quia earum consideratio convenientior est rhetoricæ vel poeticæ scientiæ. Sed enunciativa oratio præsentis considerationis est. Cuius ratio est, quia consideratio huius libri directe ordinatur ad scientiam demonstrativam, in qua animus hominis per rationem inducitur ad consentiendum vero ex his quæ sunt propria rei; et ideo demonstrator non utitur ad suum finem nisi enunciativis orationibus, significantibus res secundum quod earum veritas est in anima. Sed rhetor et poeta inducunt ad assentiendum ei quod intendunt, non solum per ea quæ sunt propria rei, sed etiam per dispositiones audientis. Unde rhetores et poetæ plerumque movere auditores nituntur provocando eos ad aliquas passiones, ut philosophus dicit in sua rhetorica. Et ideo consideratio dictarum specierum orationis, quæ pertinet ad ordinationem audientis in aliquid, cadit proprie sub consideratione rhetoricæ vel poeticæ, ratione sui significati; ad considerationem autem grammatici, prout consideratur in eis congrua vocum constructio. Postquam philosophus definivit enunciationem, hic dividit eam. Et dividitur in duas partes: in prima, ponit divisionem enunciationis; in secunda, manifestat eam; ibi: necesse est autem et cetera.  Circa primum considerandum est quod Aristoteles sub breviloquio duas divisiones enunciationis ponit. Quarum una est quod enunciationum quædam est una simplex, quædam est coniunctione una. Sicut etiam in rebus, quæ sunt extra animam, aliquid est unum simplex sicut indivisibile vel continuum, aliquid est unum colligatione aut compositione aut ordine. Quia enim ens et unum convertuntur, necesse est sicut omnem rem, ita et omnem enunciationem aliqualiter esse unam.  Alia vero subdivisio enunciationis est quod si enunciatio sit una, aut est affirmativa aut negativa. Enunciatio autem affirmativa prior est negativa, triplici ratione, secundum tria quæ supra posita sunt: ubi dictum est quod vox est signum intellectus, et intellectus est signum rei. Ex parte igitur vocis, affirmativa enunciatio est prior negativa, quia est simplicior: negativa enim enunciatio addit supra affirmativam particulam negativam. Ex parte etiam intellectus affirmativa enunciatio, quæ significat compositionem intellectus, est prior negativa, quæ significat divisionem eiusdem: divisio enim naturaliter posterior est compositione, nam non est divisio nisi compositorum, sicut non est corruptio nisi generatorum. Ex parte etiam rei, affirmativa enunciatio, quæ significat esse, prior est negativa, quæ significat non esse: sicut habitus naturaliter prior est privatione.  Dicit ergo quod oratio enunciativa una et prima est affirmatio, idest affirmativa enunciatio. Et contra hoc quod dixerat prima, subdit: deinde negatio, idest negativa oratio, quia est posterior affirmativa, ut dictum est. Contra id autem quod dixerat una, scilicet simpliciter, subdit quod quædam aliæ sunt unæ, non simpliciter, sed coniunctione unæ.  Ex hoc autem quod hic dicitur argumentatur Alexander quod divisio enunciationis in affirmationem et negationem non est divisio generis in species, sed divisio nominis multiplicis in sua significata. Genus enim univoce prædicatur de suis speciebus, non secundum prius et posterius: unde Aristoteles noluit quod ens esset genus commune omnium, quia per prius prædicatur de substantia, quam de novem generibus accidentium.  Sed dicendum quod unum dividentium aliquod commune potest esse prius altero dupliciter: uno modo, secundum proprias rationes, aut naturas dividentium; alio modo, secundum participationem rationis illius communis quod in ea dividitur. Primum autem non tollit univocationem generis, ut manifestum est in numeris, in quibus binarius secundum propriam rationem naturaliter est prior ternario; sed tamen æqualiter participant rationem generis sui, scilicet numeri: ita enim est ternarius multitudo mensurata per unum, sicut et binarius. Sed secundum impedit univocationem generis. Et propter hoc ens non potest esse genus substantiæ et accidentis: quia in ipsa ratione entis, substantia, quæ est ens per se, prioritatem habet respectu accidentis, quod est ens per aliud et in alio. Sic ergo affirmatio secundum propriam rationem prior est negatione; tamen æqualiter participant rationem enunciationis, quam supra posuit, videlicet quod enunciatio est oratio in qua verum vel falsum est.  Deinde cum dicit: necesse est autem etc., manifestat propositas divisiones. Et primo, manifestat primam, scilicet quod enunciatio vel est una simpliciter vel coniunctione una; secundo, manifestat secundam, scilicet quod enunciatio simpliciter una vel est affirmativa vel negativa; ibi: est autem simplex enunciatio et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, præmittit quædam, quæ sunt necessaria ad propositum manifestandum; secundo, manifestat propositum; ibi: est autem una oratio et cetera.  Circa primum duo facit: primo, dicit quod omnem orationem enunciativam oportet constare ex verbo quod est præsentis temporis, vel ex casu verbi quod est præteriti vel futuri. Tacet autem de verbo infinito, quia eumdem usum habet in enunciatione sicut et verbum negativum. Manifestat autem quod dixerat per hoc, quod non solum nomen unum sine verbo non facit orationem perfectam enunciativam, sed nec etiam oratio imperfecta. Definitio enim oratio quædam est, et tamen si ad rationem hominis, idest definitionem non addatur aut est, quod est verbum, aut erat, aut fuit, quæ sunt casus verbi, aut aliquid huiusmodi, idest aliquod aliud verbum seu casus verbi, nondum est oratio enunciativa.  Potest autem esse dubitatio: cum enunciatio constet ex nomine et verbo, quare non facit mentionem de nomine, sicut de verbo? Ad quod tripliciter responderi potest. Primo quidem, quia nulla oratio enunciativa invenitur sine verbo vel casu verbi; invenitur autem aliqua enunciatio sine nomine, puta cum nos utimur infinitivis verborum loco nominum; ut cum dicitur, currere est moveri. Secundo et melius, quia, sicut supra dictum est, verbum est nota eorum quæ de altero prædicantur. Prædicatum autem est principalior pars enunciationis, eo quod est pars formalis et completiva ipsius. Unde vocatur apud Græcos propositio categorica, idest prædicativa. Denominatio autem fit a forma, quæ dat speciem rei. Et ideo potius fecit mentionem de verbo tanquam de parte principaliori et formaliori. Cuius signum est, quia enunciatio categorica dicitur affirmativa vel negativa solum ratione verbi, quod affirmatur vel negatur; sicut etiam conditionalis dicitur affirmativa vel negativa, eo quod affirmatur vel negatur coniunctio a qua denominatur. Tertio, potest dici, et adhuc melius, quod non erat intentio Aristotelis ostendere quod nomen vel verbum non sufficiant ad enunciationem complendam: hoc enim supra manifestavit tam de nomine quam de verbo. Sed quia dixerat quod quædam enunciatio est una simpliciter, quædam autem coniunctione una; posset aliquis intelligere quod illa quæ est una simpliciter careret omni compositione: sed ipse hoc excludit per hoc quod in omni enunciatione oportet esse verbum, quod importat compositionem, quam non est intelligere sine compositis, sicut supra dictum est. Nomen autem non importat compositionem, et ideo non exigit præsens intentio ut de nomine faceret mentionem, sed solum de verbo. Secundo; ibi: quare autem etc., ostendit aliud quod est necessarium ad manifestationem propositi, scilicet quod hoc quod dico, animal gressibile bipes, quæ est definitio hominis, est unum et non multa. Et eadem ratio est de omnibus aliis definitionibus. Sed huiusmodi rationem assignare dicit esse alterius negocii. Pertinet enim ad metaphysicum; unde in VII et in VIII metaphysicæ ratio huius assignatur: quia scilicet differentia advenit generi non per accidens sed per se, tanquam determinativa ipsius, per modum quo materia determinatur per formam. Nam a materia sumitur genus, a forma autem differentia. Unde sicut ex forma et materia fit vere unum et non multa, ita ex genere et differentia. Excludit autem quamdam rationem huius unitatis, quam quis posset suspicari, ut scilicet propter hoc definitio dicatur unum, quia partes eius sunt propinquæ, idest sine aliqua interpositione coniunctionis vel moræ. Et quidem non interruptio locutionis necessaria est ad unitatem definitionis, quia si interponeretur coniunctio partibus definitionis, iam secunda non determinaret primam, sed significarentur ut actu multæ in locutione: et idem operatur interpositio moræ, qua utuntur rhetores loco coniunctionis. Unde ad unitatem definitionis requiritur quod partes eius proferantur sine coniunctione et interpolatione: quia etiam in re naturali, cuius est definitio, nihil cadit medium inter materiam et formam: sed prædicta non interruptio non sufficit ad unitatem definitionis, quia contingit etiam hanc continuitatem prolationis servari in his, quæ non sunt simpliciter unum, sed per accidens; ut si dicam, homo albus musicus. Sic igitur Aristoteles valde subtiliter manifestavit quod absoluta unitas enunciationis non impeditur, neque per compositionem quam importat verbum, neque per multitudinem nominum ex quibus constat definitio. Et est eadem ratio utrobique, nam prædicatum comparatur ad subiectum ut forma ad materiam, et similiter differentia ad genus: ex forma autem et materia fit unum simpliciter.  Deinde cum dicit: est autem una oratio etc., accedit ad manifestandam prædictam divisionem. Et primo, manifestat ipsum commune quod dividitur, quod est enunciatio una; secundo, manifestat partes divisionis secundum proprias rationes; ibi: harum autem hæc simplex et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, manifestat ipsam divisionem; secundo, concludit quod ab utroque membro divisionis nomen et verbum excluduntur; ibi: nomen ergo et verbum et cetera. Opponitur autem unitati pluralitas; et ideo enunciationis unitatem manifestat per modos pluralitatis.  Dicit ergo primo quod enunciatio dicitur vel una absolute, scilicet quæ unum de uno significat, vel una secundum quid, scilicet quæ est coniunctione una. Per oppositum autem est intelligendum quod enunciationes plures sunt, vel ex eo quod plura significant et non unum: quod opponitur primo modo unitatis; vel ex eo quod absque coniunctione proferuntur: et tales opponuntur secundo modo unitatis.  Circa quod considerandum est, secundum Boethium, quod unitas et pluralitas orationis refertur ad significatum; simplex autem et compositum attenditur secundum ipsas voces. Et ideo enunciatio quandoque est una et simplex puta cum solum ex nomine et verbo componitur in unum significatum; ut cum dico, homo est albus. Est etiam quandoque una oratio, sed composita, quæ quidem unam rem significat, sed tamen composita est vel ex pluribus terminis; sicut si dicam, animal rationale mortale currit, vel ex pluribus enunciationibus, sicut in conditionalibus, quæ quidem unum significant et non multa. Similiter autem quandoque in enunciatione est pluralitas cum simplicitate, puta cum in oratione ponitur aliquod nomen multa significans; ut si dicam, canis latrat, hæc oratio plures est, quia plura significat, et tamen simplex est. Quandoque vero in enunciatione est pluralitas et compositio, puta cum ponuntur plura in subiecto vel in prædicato, ex quibus non fit unum, sive interveniat coniunctio sive non; puta si dicam, homo albus musicus disputat: et similiter est si coniungantur plures enunciationes, sive cum coniunctione sive sine coniunctione; ut si dicam, Socrates currit, Plato disputat. Et secundum hoc sensus litteræ est quod enunciatio una est illa, quæ unum de uno significat, non solum si sit simplex, sed etiam si sit coniunctione una. Et similiter enunciationes plures dicuntur quæ plura et non unum significant: non solum quando interponitur aliqua coniunctio, vel inter nomina vel verba, vel etiam inter ipsas enunciationes; sed etiam si vel inconiunctione, idest absque aliqua interposita coniunctione plura significat, vel quia est unum nomen æquivocum, multa significans, vel quia ponuntur plura nomina absque coniunctione, ex quorum significatis non fit unum; ut si dicam, homo albus grammaticus logicus currit.  Sed hæc expositio non videtur esse secundum intentionem Aristotelis. Primo quidem, quia per disiunctionem, quam interponit, videtur distinguere inter orationem unum significantem, et orationem quæ est coniunctione una. Secundo, quia supra dixerat quod est unum quoddam et non multa, animal gressibile bipes. Quod autem est coniunctione unum, non est unum et non multa, sed est unum ex multis. Et ideo melius videtur dicendum quod Aristoteles, quia supra dixerat aliquam enunciationem esse unam et aliquam coniunctione unam, vult hic manifestare quæ sit una. Et quia supra dixerat quod multa nomina simul coniuncta sunt unum, sicut animal gressibile bipes, dicit consequenter quod enunciatio est iudicanda una non ex unitate nominis, sed ex unitate significati, etiam si sint plura nomina quæ unum significent. Vel si sit aliqua enunciatio una quæ multa significet, non erit una simpliciter, sed coniunctione una. Et secundum hoc, hæc enunciatio, animal gressibile bipes est risibile, non est una quasi coniunctione una, sicut in prima expositione dicebatur, sed quia unum significat. Et quia oppositum per oppositum manifestatur, consequenter ostendit quæ sunt plures enunciationes, et ponit duos modos pluralitatis. Primus est, quod plures dicuntur enunciationes quæ plura significant. Contingit autem aliqua plura significari in aliquo uno communi; sicut cum dico, animal est sensibile, sub hoc uno communi, quod est animal, multa continentur, et tamen hæc enunciatio est una et non plures. Et ideo addit et non unum. Sed melius est ut dicatur hoc esse additum propter definitionem, quæ multa significat quæ sunt unum: et hic modus pluralitatis opponitur primo modo unitatis. Secundus modus pluralitatis est, quando non solum enunciationes plura significant, sed etiam illa plura nullatenus coniunguntur, et hic modus pluralitatis opponitur secundo modo unitatis. Et secundum hoc patet quod secundus modus unitatis non opponitur primo modo pluralitatis. Ea autem quæ non sunt opposita, possunt simul esse. Unde manifestum est, enunciationem quæ est una coniunctione, esse etiam plures: plures in quantum significat plura et non unum. Secundum hoc ergo possumus accipere tres modos enunciationis. Nam quædam est simpliciter una, in quantum unum significat; quædam est simpliciter plures, in quantum plura significat, sed est una secundum quid, in quantum est coniunctione una; quædam sunt simpliciter plures, quæ neque significant unum, neque coniunctione aliqua uniuntur. Ideo autem Aristoteles quatuor ponit et non solum tria, quia quandoque est enunciatio plures, quia plura significat, non tamen est coniunctione una, puta si ponatur ibi nomen multa significans.  Deinde cum dicit: nomen ergo et verbum etc., excludit ab unitate orationis nomen et verbum. Dixerat enim quod enunciatio una est, quæ unum significat: posset autem aliquis intelligere, quod sic unum significaret sicut nomen et verbum unum significant. Et ideo ad hoc excludendum subdit: nomen ergo, et verbum dictio sit sola, idest ita sit dictio, quod non enunciatio. Et videtur, ex modo loquendi, quod ipse imposuerit hoc nomen ad significandum partes enunciationis. Quod autem nomen et verbum dictio sit sola manifestat per hoc, quod non potest dici quod ille enunciet, qui sic aliquid significat voce, sicut nomen, vel verbum significat. Et ad hoc manifestandum innuit duos modos utendi enunciatione. Quandoque enim utimur ipsa quasi ad interrogata respondentes; puta si quæratur, quis sit in scholis? Respondemus, magister. Quandoque autem utimur ea propria sponte, nullo interrogante; sicut cum dicimus, Petrus currit. Dicit ergo, quod ille qui significat aliquid unum nomine vel verbo, non enunciat vel sicut ille qui respondet aliquo interrogante, vel sicut ille qui profert enunciationem non aliquo interrogante, sed ipso proferente sponte. Introduxit autem hoc, quia simplex nomen vel verbum, quando respondetur ad interrogationem, videtur verum vel falsum significare: quod est proprium enunciationis. Sed hoc non competit nomini vel verbo, nisi secundum quod intelligitur coniunctum cum alia parte proposita in interrogatione. Ut si quærenti, quis legit in scholis? Respondeatur, magister, subintelligitur, ibi legit. Si ergo ille qui enunciat aliquid nomine vel verbo non enunciat, manifestum est quod enunciatio non sic unum significat, sicut nomen vel verbum. Hoc autem inducit sicut conclusionem eius quod supra præmisit: necesse est omnem orationem enunciativam ex verbo esse vel ex casu verbi.  Deinde cum dicit: harum autem hæc simplex etc., manifestat præmissam divisionem secundum rationes partium. Dixerat enim quod una enunciatio est quæ unum de uno significat, et alia est quæ est coniunctione una. Ratio autem huius divisionis est ex eo quod unum natum est dividi per simplex et compositum. Et ideo dicit: harum autem, scilicet enunciationum, in quibus dividitur unum, hæc dicitur una, vel quia significat unum simpliciter, vel quia una est coniunctione. Hæc quidem simplex enunciatio est, quæ scilicet unum significat. Sed ne intelligatur quod sic significet unum, sicut nomen vel verbum, ad excludendum hoc subdit: ut aliquid de aliquo, idest per modum compositionis, vel aliquid ab aliquo, idest per modum divisionis. Hæc autem ex his coniuncta, quæ scilicet dicitur coniunctione una, est velut oratio iam composita: quasi dicat hoc modo, enunciationis unitas dividitur in duo præmissa, sicut aliquod unum dividitur in simplex et compositum.  Deinde cum dicit: est autem simplex etc., manifestat secundam divisionem enunciationis, secundum videlicet quod enunciatio dividitur in affirmationem et negationem. Hæc autem divisio primo quidem convenit enunciationi simplici; ex consequenti autem convenit compositæ enunciationi; et ideo ad insinuandum rationem prædictæ divisionis dicit quod simplex enunciatio est vox significativa de eo quod est aliquid: quod pertinet ad affirmationem; vel non est aliquid: quod pertinet ad negationem. Et ne hoc intelligatur solum secundum præsens tempus, subdit: quemadmodum tempora sunt divisa, idest similiter hoc habet locum in aliis temporibus sicut et in præsenti.  Alexander autem existimavit quod Aristoteles hic definiret enunciationem; et quia in definitione enunciationis videtur ponere affirmationem et negationem, volebat hic accipere quod enunciatio non esset genus affirmationis et negationis, quia species nunquam ponitur in definitione generis. Id autem quod non univoce prædicatur de multis (quia scilicet non significat aliquid unum, quod sit unum commune multis), non potest notificari nisi per illa multa quæ significantur. Et inde est quod quia unum non dicitur æquivoce de simplici et composito, sed per prius et posterius, Aristoteles in præcedentibus semper ad notificandum unitatem enunciationis usus est utroque. Quia ergo videtur uti affirmatione et negatione ad notificandum enunciationem, volebat Alexander accipere quod enunciatio non dicitur de affirmatione et negatione univoce sicut genus de suis speciebus.  Sed contrarium apparet ex hoc, quod philosophus consequenter utitur nomine enunciationis ut genere, cum in definitione affirmationis et negationis subdit quod, affirmatio est enunciatio alicuius de aliquo, scilicet per modum compositionis, negatio vero est enunciatio alicuius ab aliquo, scilicet per modum divisionis. Nomine autem æquivoco non consuevimus uti ad notificandum significata eius. Et ideo Boethius dicit quod Aristoteles suo modo breviloquio utens, simul usus est et definitione et divisione eius: ita ut quod dicit de eo quod est aliquid vel non est, non referatur ad definitionem enunciationis, sed ad eius divisionem. Sed quia differentiæ divisivæ generis non cadunt in eius definitione, nec hoc solum quod dicitur vox significativa, sufficiens est definitio enunciationis; melius dici potest secundum Porphyrium, quod hoc totum quod dicitur vox significativa de eo quod est, vel de eo quod non est, est definitio enunciationis. Nec tamen ponitur affirmatio et negatio in definitione enunciationis sed virtus affirmationis et negationis, scilicet significatum eius, quod est esse vel non esse, quod est naturaliter prius enunciatione. Affirmationem autem et negationem postea definivit per terminos utriusque cum dixit: affirmationem esse enunciationem alicuius de aliquo, et negationem enunciationem alicuius ab aliquo. Sed sicut in definitione generis non debent poni species, ita nec ea quæ sunt propria specierum. Cum igitur significare esse sit proprium affirmationis, et significare non esse sit proprium negationis, melius videtur dicendum, secundum Ammonium, quod hic non definitur enunciatio, sed solum dividitur. Supra enim posita est definitio, cum dictum est quod enunciatio est oratio in qua est verum vel falsum. In qua quidem definitione nulla mentio facta est nec de affirmatione, nec de negatione. Est autem considerandum quod artificiosissime procedit: dividit enim genus non in species, sed in differentias specificas. Non enim dicit quod enunciatio est affirmatio vel negatio, sed vox significativa de eo quod est, quæ est differentia specifica affirmationis, vel de eo quod non est, in quo tangitur differentia specifica negationis. Et ideo ex differentiis adiunctis generi constituit definitionem speciei, cum subdit: quod affirmatio est enunciatio alicuius de aliquo, per quod significatur esse; et negatio est enunciatio alicuius ab aliquo quod significat non esse. Posita divisione enunciationis, hic agit de oppositione partium enunciationis, scilicet affirmationis et negationis. Et quia enunciationem esse dixerat orationem, in qua est verum vel falsum, primo, ostendit qualiter enunciationes ad invicem opponantur; secundo, movet quamdam dubitationem circa prædeterminata et solvit; ibi: in his ergo quæ sunt et quæ facta sunt et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ostendit qualiter una enunciatio opponatur alteri; secundo, ostendit quod tantum una opponitur uni; ibi: manifestum est et cetera. Prima autem pars dividitur in duas partes: in prima, determinat de oppositione affirmationis et negationis absolute; in secunda, ostendit quomodo huiusmodi oppositio diversificatur ex parte subiecti; ibi: quoniam autem sunt et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ostendit quod omni affirmationi est negatio opposita et e converso; secundo, manifestat oppositionem affirmationis et negationis absolute; ibi: et sit hoc contradictio et cetera.  Circa primum considerandum est quod ad ostendendum suum propositum philosophus assumit duplicem diversitatem enunciationis: quarum prima est ex ipsa forma vel modo enunciandi, secundum quod dictum est quod enunciatio vel est affirmativa, per quam scilicet enunciatur aliquid esse, vel est negativa per quam significatur aliquid non esse; secunda diversitas est per comparationem ad rem, ex qua dependet veritas et falsitas intellectus et enunciationis. Cum enim enunciatur aliquid esse vel non esse secundum congruentiam rei, est oratio vera; alioquin est oratio falsa.  Sic igitur quatuor modis potest variari enunciatio, secundum permixtionem harum duarum divisionum. Uno modo, quia id quod est in re enunciatur ita esse sicut in re est: quod pertinet ad affirmationem veram; puta cum Socrates currit, dicimus Socratem currere. Alio modo, cum enunciatur aliquid non esse quod in re non est: quod pertinet ad negationem veram; ut cum dicitur, Æthiops albus non est. Tertio modo, cum enunciatur aliquid esse quod in re non est: quod pertinet ad affirmationem falsam; ut cum dicitur, corvus est albus. Quarto modo, cum enunciatur aliquid non esse quod in re est: quod pertinet ad negationem falsam; ut cum dicitur, nix non est alba. Philosophus autem, ut a minoribus ad potiora procedat, falsas veris præponit: inter quas negativam præmittit affirmativæ, cum dicit quod contingit enunciare quod est, scilicet in rerum natura, non esse. Secundo autem, ponit affirmativam falsam cum dicit: et quod non est, scilicet in rerum natura, esse. Tertio autem, ponit affirmativam veram, quæ opponitur negativæ falsæ, quam primo posuit, cum dicit: et quod est, scilicet in rerum natura, esse. Quarto autem, ponit negativam veram, quæ opponitur affirmationi falsæ, cum dicit: et quod non est, scilicet in rerum natura, non esse. Non est autem intelligendum quod hoc quod dixit: quod est et quod non est, sit referendum ad solam existentiam vel non existentiam subiecti, sed ad hoc quod res significata per prædicatum insit vel non insit rei significatæ per subiectum. Nam cum dicitur, corvus est albus, significatur quod non est, esse, quamvis ipse corvus sit res existens. Et sicut istæ quatuor differentiæ enunciationum inveniuntur in propositionibus, in quibus ponitur verbum præsentis temporis, ita etiam inveniuntur in enunciationibus in quibus ponuntur verba præteriti vel futuri temporis. Supra enim dixit quod necesse est enunciationem constare ex verbo vel ex casu verbi. Et hoc est quod subdit: quod similiter contingit, scilicet variari diversimode enunciationem circa ea, quæ sunt extra præsens tempus, idest circa præterita vel futura, quæ sunt quodammodo extrinseca respectu præsentis, quia præsens est medium præteriti et futuri. Et quia ita est, contingit omne quod quis affirmaverit negare, et omne quod quis negaverit affirmare: quod quidem manifestum est ex præmissis. Non enim potest affirmari nisi vel quod est in rerum natura secundum aliquod trium temporum, vel quod non est; et hoc totum contingit negare. Unde manifestum est quod omne quod affirmatur potest negari, et e converso. Et quia affirmatio et negatio opposita sunt secundum se, utpote ex opposito contradictoriæ, consequens est quod quælibet affirmatio habeat negationem sibi oppositam et e converso. Cuius contrarium illo solo modo posset contingere, si aliqua affirmatio affirmaret aliquid, quod negatio negare non posset. Deinde cum dicit: et sit hoc contradictio etc., manifestat quæ sit absoluta oppositio affirmationis et negationis. Et primo, manifestat eam per nomen; secundo, per definitionem; ibi: dico autem et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod cum cuilibet affirmationi opponatur negatio, et e converso, oppositioni huiusmodi imponatur nomen hoc, quod dicatur contradictio. Per hoc enim quod dicitur, et sit hoc contradictio, datur intelligi quod ipsum nomen contradictionis ipse imposuerit oppositioni affirmationis et negationis, ut Ammonius dicit. Deinde cum dicit: dico autem opponi etc., definit contradictionem. Quia vero, ut dictum est, contradictio est oppositio affirmationis et negationis, illa requiruntur ad contradictionem, quæ requiruntur ad oppositionem affirmationis et negationis. Oportet autem opposita esse circa idem. Et quia enunciatio constituitur ex subiecto et prædicato, requiritur ad contradictionem primo quidem quod affirmatio et negatio sint eiusdem prædicati: si enim dicatur, Plato currit, Plato non disputat, non est contradictio; secundo, requiritur quod sint de eodem subiecto: si enim dicatur, Socrates currit, Plato non currit, non est contradictio. Tertio, requiritur quod identitas subiecti et prædicati non solum sit secundum nomen, sed sit simul secundum rem et nomen. Nam si non sit idem nomen, manifestum est quod non sit una et eadem enunciatio. Similiter autem ad hoc quod sit enunciatio una, requiritur identitas rei: dictum est enim supra quod enunciatio una est, quæ unum de uno significat; et ideo subdit: non autem æquivoce, idest non sufficit identitas nominis cum diversitate rei, quæ facit æquivocationem. Sunt autem et quædam alia in contradictione observanda ad hoc quod tollatur omnis diversitas, præter eam quæ est affirmationis et negationis: non enim esset oppositio si non omnino idem negaret negatio quod affirmavit affirmatio. Hæc autem diversitas potest secundum quatuor considerari. Uno quidem modo, secundum diversas partes subiecti: non enim est contradictio si dicatur, Æthiops est albus dente et non est albus pede. Secundo, si sit diversus modus ex parte prædicati: non enim est contradictio si dicatur, Socrates currit tarde et non movetur velociter; vel si dicatur, ovum est animal in potentia et non est animal in actu. Tertio, si sit diversitas ex parte mensuræ, puta loci vel temporis; non enim est contradictio si dicatur, pluit in Gallia et non pluit in Italia; aut, pluit heri, hodie non pluit. Quarto, si sit diversitas ex habitudine ad aliquid extrinsecum; puta si dicatur, decem homines esse plures quoad domum, non autem quoad forum. Et hæc omnia designat cum subdit: et quæcumque cætera talium determinavimus, idest determinare consuevimus in disputationibus contra sophisticas importunitates, idest contra importunas et litigiosas oppositiones sophistarum, de quibus plenius facit mentionem in I elenchorum. Quia philosophus dixerat oppositionem affirmationis et negationis esse contradictionem, quæ est eiusdem de eodem, consequenter intendit distinguere diversas oppositiones affirmationis et negationis, ut cognoscatur quæ sit vera contradictio. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, præmittit quamdam divisionem enunciationum necessariam ad prædictam differentiam oppositionum assignandam; secundo, manifestat propositum; ibi: si ergo universaliter et cetera. Præmittit autem divisionem enunciationum quæ sumitur secundum differentiam subiecti. Unde circa primum duo facit: primo, dividit subiectum enunciationum; secundo, concludit divisionem enunciationum, ibi: necesse est enunciare et cetera. Subiectum autem enunciationis est nomen vel aliquid loco nominis sumptum. Nomen autem est vox significativa ad placitum simplicis intellectus, quod est similitudo rei; et ideo subiectum enunciationis distinguit per divisionem rerum, et dicit quod rerum quædam sunt universalia, quædam sunt singularia. Manifestat autem membra divisionis dupliciter: primo quidem per definitionem, quia universale est quod est aptum natum de pluribus prædicari, singulare vero quod non est aptum natum prædicari de pluribus, sed de uno solo; secundo, manifestat per exemplum cum subdit quod homo est universale, Plato autem singulare. Accidit autem dubitatio circa hanc divisionem, quia, sicut probat philosophus in VII metaphysicæ, universale non est aliquid extra res existens. Item, in prædicamentis dicitur quod secundæ substantiæ non sunt nisi in primis, quæ sunt singulares. Non ergo videtur esse conveniens divisio rerum per universalia et singularia: quia nullæ res videntur esse universales, sed omnes sunt singulares. Dicendum est autem quod hic dividuntur res secundum quod significantur per nomina, quæ subiiciuntur in enunciationibus: dictum est autem supra quod nomina non significant res nisi mediante intellectu; et ideo oportet quod divisio ista rerum accipiatur secundum quod res cadunt in intellectu. Ea vero quæ sunt coniuncta in rebus intellectus potest distinguere, quando unum eorum non cadit in ratione alterius. In qualibet autem re singulari est considerare aliquid quod est proprium illi rei, in quantum est hæc res, sicut Socrati vel Platoni in quantum est hic homo; et aliquid est considerare in ea, in quo convenit cum aliis quibusdam rebus, sicut quod Socrates est animal, aut homo, aut rationalis, aut risibilis, aut albus. Quando igitur res denominatur ab eo quod convenit illi soli rei in quantum est hæc res, huiusmodi nomen dicitur significare aliquid singulare; quando autem denominatur res ab eo quod est commune sibi et multis aliis, nomen huiusmodi dicitur significare universale, quia scilicet nomen significat naturam sive dispositionem aliquam, quæ est communis multis. Quia igitur hanc divisionem dedit de rebus non absolute secundum quod sunt extra animam, sed secundum quod referuntur ad intellectum, non definivit universale et singulare secundum aliquid quod pertinet ad rem, puta si diceret quod universale extra animam, quod pertinet ad opinionem Platonis, sed per actum animæ intellectivæ, quod est prædicari de multis vel de uno solo. Est autem considerandum quod intellectus apprehendit rem intellectam secundum propriam essentiam, seu definitionem: unde et in III de anima dicitur quod obiectum proprium intellectus est quod quid est. Contingit autem quandoque quod propria ratio alicuius formæ intellectæ non repugnat ei quod est esse in pluribus, sed hoc impeditur ab aliquo alio, sive sit aliquid accidentaliter adveniens, puta si omnibus hominibus morientibus unus solus remaneret, sive sit propter conditionem materiæ, sicut est unus tantum sol, non quod repugnet rationi solari esse in pluribus secundum conditionem formæ ipsius, sed quia non est alia materia susceptiva talis formæ; et ideo non dixit quod universale est quod prædicatur de pluribus, sed quod aptum natum est prædicari de pluribus. Cum autem omnis forma, quæ nata est recipi in materia quantum est de se, communicabilis sit multis materiis; dupliciter potest contingere quod id quod significatur per nomen, non sit aptum natum prædicari de pluribus. Uno modo, quia nomen significat formam secundum quod terminata est ad hanc materiam, sicut hoc nomen Socrates vel Plato, quod significat naturam humanam prout est in hac materia. Alio modo, secundum quod nomen significat formam, quæ non est nata in materia recipi, unde oportet quod per se remaneat una et singularis; sicut albedo, si esset forma non existens in materia, esset una sola, unde esset singularis: et propter hoc philosophus dicit in VII Metaphys. quod si essent species rerum separatæ, sicut posuit Plato, essent individua. Potest autem obiici quod hoc nomen Socrates vel Plato est natum de pluribus prædicari, quia nihil prohibet multos esse, qui vocentur hoc nomine. Sed ad hoc patet responsio, si attendantur verba Aristotelis. Ipse enim non divisit nomina in universale et particulare, sed res. Et ideo intelligendum est quod universale dicitur quando, non solum nomen potest de pluribus prædicari, sed id, quod significatur per nomen, est natum in pluribus inveniri; hoc autem non contingit in prædictis nominibus: nam hoc nomen Socrates vel Plato significat naturam humanam secundum quod est in hac materia. Si vero hoc nomen imponatur alteri homini significabit naturam humanam in alia materia; et sic eius erit alia significatio; unde non erit universale, sed æquivocum. Deinde cum dicit: necesse est autem enunciare etc., concludit divisionem enunciationis. Quia enim semper enunciatur aliquid de aliqua re; rerum autem quædam sunt universalia, quædam singularia; necesse est quod quandoque enuncietur aliquid inesse vel non inesse alicui universalium, quandoque vero alicui singularium. Et est suspensiva constructio usque huc, et est sensus: quoniam autem sunt hæc quidem rerum etc., necesse est enunciare et cetera. Est autem considerandum quod de universali aliquid enunciatur quatuor modis. Nam universale potest uno modo considerari quasi separatum a singularibus, sive per se subsistens, ut Plato posuit, sive, secundum sententiam Aristotelis, secundum esse quod habet in intellectu. Et sic potest ei aliquid attribui dupliciter. Quandoque enim attribuitur ei sic considerato aliquid, quod pertinet ad solam operationem intellectus, ut si dicatur quod homo est prædicabile de multis, sive universale, sive species. Huiusmodi enim intentiones format intellectus attribuens eas naturæ intellectæ, secundum quod comparat ipsam ad res, quæ sunt extra animam. Quandoque vero attribuitur aliquid universali sic considerato, quod scilicet apprehenditur ab intellectu ut unum, tamen id quod attribuitur ei non pertinet ad actum intellectus, sed ad esse, quod habet natura apprehensa in rebus, quæ sunt extra animam, puta si dicatur quod homo est dignissima creaturarum. Hoc enim convenit naturæ humanæ etiam secundum quod est in singularibus. Nam quilibet homo singularis dignior est omnibus creaturis irrationalibus; sed tamen omnes homines singulares non sunt unus homo extra animam, sed solum in acceptione intellectus; et per hunc modum attribuitur ei prædicatum, scilicet ut uni rei. Alio autem modo attribuitur universali, prout est in singularibus, et hoc dupliciter. Quandoque quidem ratione ipsius naturæ universalis, puta cum attribuitur ei aliquid quod ad essentiam eius pertinet, vel quod consequitur principia essentialia; ut cum dicitur, homo est animal, vel homo est risibilis. Quandoque autem attribuitur ei aliquid ratione singularis in quo invenitur, puta cum attribuitur ei aliquid quod pertinet ad actionem individui; ut cum dicitur, homo ambulat. Singulari autem attribuitur aliquid tripliciter: uno modo, secundum quod cadit in apprehensione; ut cum dicitur, Socrates est singulare, vel prædicabile de uno solo. Quandoque autem, ratione naturæ communis; ut cum dicitur, Socrates est animal. Quandoque autem, ratione sui ipsius; ut cum dicitur, Socrates ambulat. Et totidem etiam modis negationes variantur: quia omne quod contingit affirmare, contingit negare, ut supra dictum est. Est autem hæc tertia divisio enunciationis quam ponit philosophus. Prima namque fuit quod enunciationum quædam est una simpliciter, quædam vero coniunctione una. Quæ quidem est divisio analogi in ea de quibus prædicatur secundum prius et posterius: sic enim unum dividitur secundum prius in simplex et per posterius in compositum. Alia vero fuit divisio enunciationis in affirmationem et negationem. Quæ quidem est divisio generis in species, quia sumitur secundum differentiam prædicati ad quod fertur negatio; prædicatum autem est pars formalis enunciationis; et ideo huiusmodi divisio dicitur pertinere ad qualitatem enunciationis, qualitatem, inquam, essentialem, secundum quod differentia significat quale quid. Tertia autem est huiusmodi divisio, quæ sumitur secundum differentiam subiecti, quod prædicatur de pluribus vel de uno solo, et ideo dicitur pertinere ad quantitatem enunciationis, nam et quantitas consequitur materiam.  Deinde cum dicit: si ergo universaliter etc., ostendit quomodo enunciationes diversimode opponantur secundum diversitatem subiecti. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, distinguit diversos modos oppositionum in ipsis enunciationibus; secundo, ostendit quomodo diversæ oppositiones diversimode se habent ad verum et falsum; ibi: quocirca, has quidem impossibile est et cetera.  Circa primum considerandum est quod cum universale possit considerari in abstractione a singularibus vel secundum quod est in ipsis singularibus, secundum hoc diversimode aliquid ei attribuitur, ut supra dictum est. Ad designandum autem diversos modos attributionis inventæ sunt quædam dictiones, quæ possunt dici determinationes vel signa, quibus designatur quod aliquid de universali, hoc aut illo modo prædicetur. Sed quia non est ab omnibus communiter apprehensum quod universalia extra singularia subsistant, ideo communis usus loquendi non habet aliquam dictionem ad designandum illum modum prædicandi, prout aliquid dicitur in abstractione a singularibus. Sed Plato, qui posuit universalia extra singularia subsistere, adinvenit aliquas determinationes, quibus designaretur quomodo aliquid attribuitur universali, prout est extra singularia, et vocabat universale separatum subsistens extra singularia quantum ad speciem hominis, per se hominem vel ipsum hominem et similiter in aliis universalibus. Sed universale secundum quod est in singularibus cadit in communi apprehensione hominum; et ideo adinventæ sunt quædam dictiones ad significandum modum attribuendi aliquid universali sic accepto.  Sicut autem supra dictum est, quandoque aliquid attribuitur universali ratione ipsius naturæ universalis; et ideo hoc dicitur prædicari de eo universaliter, quia scilicet ei convenit secundum totam multitudinem in qua invenitur; et ad hoc designandum in affirmativis prædicationibus adinventa est hæc dictio, omnis, quæ designat quod prædicatum attribuitur subiecto universali quantum ad totum id quod sub subiecto continetur. In negativis autem prædicationibus adinventa est hæc dictio, nullus, per quam significatur quod prædicatum removetur a subiecto universali secundum totum id quod continetur sub eo. Unde nullus dicitur quasi non ullus, et in Græco dicitur, udis quasi nec unus, quia nec unum solum est accipere sub subiecto universali a quo prædicatum non removeatur. Quandoque autem attribuitur universali aliquid vel removetur ab eo ratione particularis; et ad hoc designandum, in affirmativis quidem adinventa est hæc dictio, aliquis vel quidam, per quam designatur quod prædicatum attribuitur subiecto universali ratione ipsius particularis; sed quia non determinate significat formam alicuius singularis, sub quadam indeterminatione singulare designat; unde et dicitur individuum vagum. In negativis autem non est aliqua dictio posita, sed possumus accipere, non omnis; ut sicut, nullus, universaliter removet, eo quod significat quasi diceretur, non ullus, idest, non aliquis, ita etiam, non omnis, particulariter removeat, in quantum excludit universalem affirmationem.  Sic igitur tria sunt genera affirmationum in quibus aliquid de universali prædicatur. Una quidem est, in qua de universali prædicatur aliquid universaliter; ut cum dicitur, omnis homo est animal. Alia, in qua aliquid prædicatur de universali particulariter; ut cum dicitur, quidam homo est albus. Tertia vero est, in qua aliquid de universali prædicatur absque determinatione universalitatis vel particularitatis; unde huiusmodi enunciatio solet vocari indefinita. Totidem autem sunt negationes oppositæ.  De singulari autem quamvis aliquid diversa ratione prædicetur, ut supra dictum est, tamen totum refertur ad singularitatem ipsius, quia etiam natura universalis in ipso singulari individuatur; et ideo nihil refert quantum ad naturam singularitatis, utrum aliquid prædicetur de eo ratione universalis naturæ; ut cum dicitur, Socrates est homo, vel conveniat ei ratione singularitatis.  Si igitur tribus prædictis enunciationibus addatur singularis, erunt quatuor modi enunciationis ad quantitatem ipsius pertinentes, scilicet universalis, singularis, indefinitus et particularis.  Sic igitur secundum has differentias Aristoteles assignat diversas oppositiones enunciationum adinvicem. Et primo, secundum differentiam universalium ad indefinitas; secundo, secundum differentiam universalium ad particulares; ibi: opponi autem affirmationem et cetera. Circa primum tria facit: primo, agit de oppositione propositionum universalium adinvicem; secundo, de oppositione indefinitarum; ibi: quando autem in universalibus etc.; tertio, excludit dubitationem; ibi: in eo vero quod et cetera.  Dicit ergo primo quod si aliquis enunciet de subiecto universali universaliter, idest secundum continentiam suæ universalitatis, quoniam est, idest affirmative, aut non est, idest negative, erunt contrariæ enunciationes; ut si dicatur, omnis homo est albus, nullus homo est albus. Huius autem ratio est, quia contraria dicuntur quæ maxime a se distant: non enim dicitur aliquid nigrum ex hoc solum quod non est album, sed super hoc quod est non esse album, quod significat communiter remotionem albi, addit nigrum extremam distantiam ab albo. Sic igitur id quod affirmatur per hanc enunciationem, omnis homo est albus, removetur per hanc negationem, non omnis homo est albus. Oportet ergo quod negatio removeat modum quo prædicatum dicitur de subiecto, quem designat hæc dictio, omnis. Sed super hanc remotionem addit hæc enunciatio, nullus homo est albus, totalem remotionem, quæ est extrema distantia a primo; quod pertinet ad rationem contrarietatis. Et ideo convenienter hanc oppositionem dicit contrarietatem.  Deinde cum dicit: quando autem etc., ostendit qualis sit oppositio affirmationis et negationis in indefinitis. Et primo, proponit quod intendit; secundo, manifestat propositum per exempla; ibi: dico autem non universaliter etc.; tertio, assignat rationem manifestationis; ibi: cum enim universale sit homo et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod quando de universalibus subiectis affirmatur aliquid vel negatur non tamen universaliter, non sunt contrariæ enunciationes, sed illa quæ significantur contingit esse contraria. Deinde cum dicit: dico autem non universaliter etc., manifestat per exempla. Ubi considerandum est quod non dixerat quando in universalibus particulariter, sed non universaliter. Non enim intendit de particularibus enunciationibus, sed de solis indefinitis. Et hoc manifestat per exempla quæ ponit, dicens fieri in universalibus subiectis non universalem enunciationem; cum dicitur, est albus homo, non est albus homo. Et rationem huius expositionis ostendit, quia homo, qui subiicitur, est universale, sed tamen prædicatum non universaliter de eo prædicatur, quia non apponitur hæc dictio, omnis: quæ non significat ipsum universale, sed modum universalitatis, prout scilicet prædicatum dicitur universaliter de subiecto; et ideo addita subiecto universali, semper significat quod aliquid de eo dicatur universaliter. Tota autem hæc expositio refertur ad hoc quod dixerat: quando in universalibus non universaliter enunciatur, non sunt contrariæ.  Sed hoc quod additur: quæ autem significantur contingit esse contraria, non est expositum, quamvis obscuritatem contineat; et ideo a diversis diversimode exponitur. Quidam enim hoc referre voluerunt ad contrarietatem veritatis et falsitatis, quæ competit huiusmodi enunciationibus. Contingit enim quandoque has simul esse veras, homo est albus, homo non est albus; et sic non sunt contrariæ, quia contraria mutuo se tollunt. Contingit tamen quandoque unam earum esse veram et alteram esse falsam; ut cum dicitur, homo est animal, homo non est animal; et sic ratione significati videntur habere quamdam contrarietatem. Sed hoc non videtur ad propositum pertinere, tum quia philosophus nondum hic loquitur de veritate et falsitate enunciationum; tum etiam quia hoc ipsum posset de particularibus enunciationibus dici.  Alii vero, sequentes Porphyrium, referunt hoc ad contrarietatem prædicati. Contingit enim quandoque quod prædicatum negatur de subiecto propter hoc quod inest ei contrarium; sicut si dicatur, homo non est albus, quia est niger; et sic id quod significatur per hoc quod dicitur, non est albus, potest esse contrarium. Non tamen semper: removetur enim aliquid a subiecto, etiam si contrarium non insit, sed aliquid medium inter contraria; ut cum dicitur, aliquis non est albus, quia est pallidus; vel quia inest ei privatio actus vel habitus seu potentiæ; ut cum dicitur, aliquis non est videns, quia est carens potentia visiva, aut habet impedimentum ne videat, vel etiam quia non est aptus natus videre; puta si dicatur, lapis non videt. Sic igitur illa, quæ significantur contingit esse contraria, sed ipsæ enunciationes non sunt contrariæ, quia ut in fine huius libri dicetur, non sunt contrariæ opiniones quæ sunt de contrariis, sicut opinio quod aliquid sit bonum, et illa quæ est, quod aliquid non est bonum.  Sed nec hoc videtur ad propositum Aristotelis pertinere, quia non agit hic de contrarietate rerum vel opinionum, sed de contrarietate enunciationum: et ideo magis videtur hic sequenda expositio Alexandri. Secundum quam dicendum est quod in indefinitis enunciationibus non determinatur utrum prædicatum attribuatur subiecto universaliter (quod faceret contrarietatem enunciationum), aut particulariter (quod non faceret contrarietatem enunciationum); et ideo huiusmodi enunciationes indefinitæ non sunt contrariæ secundum modum quo proferuntur. Contingit tamen quandoque ratione significati eas habere contrarietatem, puta, cum attribuitur aliquid universali ratione naturæ universalis, quamvis non apponatur signum universale; ut cum dicitur, homo est animal, homo non est animal: quia hæ enunciationes eamdem habent vim ratione significati; ac si diceretur, omnis homo est animal, nullus homo est animal.  Deinde cum dicit: in eo vero quod etc., removet quoddam quod posset esse dubium. Quia enim posuerat quamdam diversitatem in oppositione enunciationum ex hoc quod universale sumitur a parte subiecti universaliter vel non universaliter, posset aliquis credere quod similis diversitas nasceretur ex parte prædicati, ex hoc scilicet quod universale prædicari posset et universaliter et non universaliter; et ideo ad hoc excludendum dicit quod in eo quod prædicatur aliquod universale, non est verum quod prædicetur universale universaliter. Cuius quidem duplex esse potest ratio. Una quidem, quia talis modus prædicandi videtur repugnare prædicato secundum propriam rationem quam habet in enunciatione. Dictum est enim supra quod prædicatum est quasi pars formalis enunciationis, subiectum autem est pars materialis ipsius: cum autem aliquod universale profertur universaliter, ipsum universale sumitur secundum habitudinem quam habet ad singularia, quæ sub se continet; sicut et quando universale profertur particulariter, sumitur secundum habitudinem quam habet ad aliquod contentorum sub se; et sic utrumque pertinet ad materialem determinationem universalis: et ideo neque signum universale neque particulare convenienter additur prædicato, sed magis subiecto: convenientius enim dicitur, nullus homo est asinus, quam, omnis homo est nullus asinus; et similiter convenientius dicitur, aliquis homo est albus, quam, homo est aliquid album. Invenitur autem quandoque a philosophis signum particulare appositum prædicato, ad insinuandum quod prædicatum est in plus quam subiectum, et hoc præcipue cum, habito genere, investigant differentias completivas speciei, sicut in II de anima dicitur quod anima est actus quidam. Alia vero ratio potest accipi ex parte veritatis enunciationis; et ista specialiter habet locum in affirmationibus quæ falsæ essent si prædicatum universaliter prædicaretur. Et ideo manifestans id quod posuerat, subiungit quod nulla affirmatio est in qua, scilicet vere, de universali prædicato universaliter prædicetur, idest in qua universali prædicato utitur ad universaliter prædicandum; ut si diceretur, omnis homo est omne animal. Oportet enim, secundum prædicta, quod hoc prædicatum animal, secundum singula quæ sub ipso continentur, prædicaretur de singulis quæ continentur sub homine; et hoc non potest esse verum, neque si prædicatum sit in plus quam subiectum, neque si prædicatum sit convertibile cum eo. Oporteret enim quod quilibet unus homo esset animalia omnia, aut omnia risibilia: quæ repugnant rationi singularis, quod accipitur sub universali.  Nec est instantia si dicatur quod hæc est vera, omnis homo est omnis disciplinæ susceptivus: disciplina enim non prædicatur de homine, sed susceptivum disciplinæ; repugnaret autem veritati si diceretur, omnis homo est omne susceptivum disciplinæ.  Signum autem universale negativum, vel particulare affirmativum, etsi convenientius ponantur ex parte subiecti, non tamen repugnat veritati etiam si ponantur ex parte prædicati. Contingit enim huiusmodi enunciationes in aliqua materia esse veras: hæc enim est vera, omnis homo nullus lapis est; et similiter hæc est vera, omnis homo aliquod animal est. Sed hæc, omnis homo omne animal est, in quacumque materia proferatur, falsa est. Sunt autem quædam aliæ tales enunciationes semper falsæ; sicut ista, aliquis homo omne animal est (quæ habet eamdem causam falsitatis cum hac, omnis homo omne animal est); et si quæ aliæ similes, sunt semper falsæ: in omnibus enim eadem ratio est. Et ideo per hoc quod philosophus reprobavit istam, omnis homo omne animal est, dedit intelligere omnes consimiles esse improbandas. Postquam philosophus determinavit de oppositione enunciationum, comparando universales enunciationes ad indefinitas, hic determinat de oppositione enunciationum comparando universales ad particulares. Circa quod considerandum est quod potest duplex oppositio in his notari: una quidem universalis ad particularem, et hanc primo tangit; alia vero universalis ad universalem, et hanc tangit secundo; ibi: contrariæ vero et cetera.  Particularis vero affirmativa et particularis negativa, non habent proprie loquendo oppositionem, quia oppositio attenditur circa idem subiectum; subiectum autem particularis enunciationis est universale particulariter sumptum, non pro aliquo determinato singulari, sed indeterminate pro quocumque; et ideo, cum de universali particulariter sumpto aliquid affirmatur vel negatur, ipse modus enunciandi non habet quod affirmatio et negatio sint de eodem: quod requiritur ad oppositionem affirmationis et negationis, secundum præmissa.  Dicit ergo primo quod enunciatio, quæ universale significat, scilicet universaliter, opponitur contradictorie ei, quæ non significat universaliter sed particulariter, si una earum sit affirmativa, altera vero sit negativa (sive universalis sit affirmativa et particularis negativa, sive e converso); ut cum dicitur, omnis homo est albus, non omnis homo est albus: hoc enim quod dico, non omnis, ponitur loco signi particularis negativi; unde æquipollet ei quæ est, quidam homo non est albus; sicut et nullus, quod idem significat ac si diceretur, non ullus vel non quidam, est signum universale negativum. Unde hæ duæ, quidam homo est albus (quæ est particularis affirmativa), nullus homo est albus (quæ est universalis negativa), sunt contradictoriæ.  Cuius ratio est quia contradictio consistit in sola remotione affirmationis per negationem; universalis autem affirmativa removetur per solam negationem particularis, nec aliquid aliud ex necessitate ad hoc exigitur; particularis autem affirmativa removeri non potest nisi per universalem negativam, quia iam dictum est quod particularis affirmativa non proprie opponitur particulari negativæ. Unde relinquitur quod universali affirmativæ contradictorie opponitur particularis negativa, et particulari affirmativæ universalis negativa.  Deinde cum dicit: contrariæ vero etc., tangit oppositionem universalium enunciationum; et dicit quod universalis affirmativa et universalis negativa sunt contrariæ; sicut, omnis homo est iustus, nullus homo est iustus, quia scilicet universalis negativa non solum removet universalem affirmativam, sed etiam designat extremam distantiam, in quantum negat totum quod affirmatio ponit; et hoc pertinet ad rationem contrarietatis; et ideo particularis affirmativa et negativa se habent sicut medium inter contraria.  Deinde cum dicit: quocirca has quidem etc., ostendit quomodo se habeant affirmatio et negatio oppositæ ad verum et falsum. Et primo, quantum ad contrarias; secundo, quantum ad contradictorias; ibi: quæcumque igitur contradictiones etc.; tertio, quantum ad ea quæ videntur contradictoria, et non sunt; ibi: quæcumque autem in universalibus et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod quia universalis affirmativa et universalis negativa sunt contrariæ, impossibile est quod sint simul veræ. Contraria enim mutuo se expellunt. Sed particulares, quæ contradictorie opponuntur universalibus contrariis, possunt simul verificari in eodem; sicut, non omnis homo est albus, quæ contradictorie opponitur huic, omnis homo est albus, et, quidam homo est albus, quæ contradictorie opponitur huic, nullus homo est albus. Et huiusmodi etiam simile invenitur in contrarietate rerum: nam album et nigrum numquam simul esse possunt in eodem, sed remotiones albi et nigri simul possunt esse: potest enim aliquid esse neque album neque nigrum, sicut patet in eo quod est pallidum. Et similiter contrariæ enunciationes non possunt simul esse veræ, sed earum contradictoriæ, a quibus removentur, simul possunt esse veræ. Deinde cum dicit: quæcumque igitur contradictiones etc., ostendit qualiter veritas et falsitas se habeant in contradictoriis. Circa quod considerandum est quod, sicut dictum est supra, in contradictoriis negatio non plus facit, nisi quod removet affirmationem. Quod contingit dupliciter. Uno modo, quando est altera earum universalis, altera particularis, ut supra dictum est. Alio modo, quando utraque est singularis: quia tunc negatio ex necessitate refertur ad idem (quod non contingit in particularibus et indefinitis), nec potest se in plus extendere nisi ut removeat affirmationem. Et ideo singularis affirmativa semper contradicit singulari negativæ, supposita identitate prædicati et subiecti. Et ideo dicit quod, sive accipiamus contradictionem universalium universaliter, scilicet quantum ad unam earum, sive singularium enunciationum, semper necesse est quod una sit vera et altera falsa. Neque enim contingit esse simul veras aut simul falsas, quia verum nihil aliud est, nisi quando dicitur esse quod est, aut non esse quod non est; falsum autem, quando dicitur esse quod non est, aut non esse quod est, ut patet ex IV metaphysicorum.  Deinde cum dicit: quæcumque autem universalium etc., ostendit qualiter se habeant veritas et falsitas in his, quæ videntur esse contradictoria, sed non sunt. Et circa hoc tria facit: primo proponit quod intendit; secundo, probat propositum; ibi: si enim turpis non probus etc.; tertio, excludit id quod facere posset dubitationem; ibi: videbitur autem subito inconveniens et cetera. Circa primum considerandum est quod affirmatio et negatio in indefinitis propositionibus videntur contradictorie opponi propter hoc, quod est unum subiectum non determinatum per signum particulare, et ideo videtur affirmatio et negatio esse de eodem. Sed ad hoc removendum philosophus dicit quod quæcumque affirmative et negative dicuntur de universalibus non universaliter sumptis, non semper oportet quod unum sit verum, et aliud sit falsum, sed possunt simul esse vera. Simul enim est verum dicere quod homo est albus, et, homo non est albus, et quod homo est probus, et, homo non est probus.  In quo quidem, ut Ammonius refert, aliqui Aristoteli contradixerunt ponentes quod indefinita negativa semper sit accipienda pro universali negativa. Et hoc astruebant primo quidem tali ratione: quia indefinita, cum sit indeterminata, se habet in ratione materiæ; materia autem secundum se considerata, magis trahitur ad id quod indignius est; dignior autem est universalis affirmativa, quam particularis affirmativa; et ideo indefinitam affirmativam dicunt esse sumendam pro particulari affirmativa: sed negativam universalem, quæ totum destruit, dicunt esse indigniorem particulari negativa, quæ destruit partem, sicut universalis corruptio peior est quam particularis; et ideo dicunt quod indefinita negativa sumenda est pro universali negativa. Ad quod etiam inducunt quod philosophi, et etiam ipse Aristoteles utitur indefinitis negativis pro universalibus; sicut dicitur in libro Physic. quod non est motus præter res; et in libro de anima, quod non est sensus præter quinque. Sed istæ rationes non concludunt. Quod enim primo dicitur quod materia secundum se sumpta sumitur pro peiori, verum est secundum sententiam Platonis, qui non distinguebat privationem a materia, non autem est verum secundum Aristotelem, qui dicit in Lib. I Physic. quod malum et turpe et alia huiusmodi ad defectum pertinentia non dicuntur de materia nisi per accidens. Et ideo non oportet quod indefinita semper stet pro peiori. Dato etiam quod indefinita necesse sit sumi pro peiori, non oportet quod sumatur pro universali negativa; quia sicut in genere affirmationis, universalis affirmativa est potior particulari, utpote particularem affirmativam continens; ita etiam in genere negationum universalis negativa potior est. Oportet autem in unoquoque genere considerare id quod est potius in genere illo, non autem id quod est potius simpliciter. Ulterius etiam, dato quod particularis negativa esset potior omnibus modis, non tamen adhuc ratio sequeretur: non enim ideo indefinita affirmativa sumitur pro particulari affirmativa, quia sit indignior, sed quia de universali potest aliquid affirmari ratione suiipsius, vel ratione partis contentæ sub eo; unde sufficit ad veritatem eius quod prædicatum uni parti conveniat (quod designatur per signum particulare); et ideo veritas particularis affirmativæ sufficit ad veritatem indefinitæ affirmativæ. Et simili ratione veritas particularis negativæ sufficit ad veritatem indefinitæ negativæ, quia similiter potest aliquid negari de universali vel ratione suiipsius, vel ratione suæ partis. Utuntur autem quandoque philosophi indefinitis negativis pro universalibus in his, quæ per se removentur ab universalibus; sicut et utuntur indefinitis affirmativis pro universalibus in his, quæ per se de universalibus prædicantur.  Deinde cum dicit: si enim turpis est etc., probat propositum per id, quod est ab omnibus concessum. Omnes enim concedunt quod indefinita affirmativa verificatur, si particularis affirmativa sit vera. Contingit autem accipi duas affirmativas indefinitas, quarum una includit negationem alterius, puta cum sunt opposita prædicata: quæ quidem oppositio potest contingere dupliciter. Uno modo, secundum perfectam contrarietatem, sicut turpis, idest inhonestus, opponitur probo, idest honesto, et foedus, idest deformis secundum corpus, opponitur pulchro. Sed per quam rationem ista affirmativa est vera, homo est probus, quodam homine existente probo, per eamdem rationem ista est vera, homo est turpis, quodam homine existente turpi. Sunt ergo istæ duæ veræ simul, homo est probus, homo est turpis; sed ad hanc, homo est turpis, sequitur ista, homo non est probus; ergo istæ duæ sunt simul veræ, homo est probus, homo non est probus: et eadem ratione istæ duæ, homo est pulcher, homo non est pulcher. Alia autem oppositio attenditur secundum perfectum et imperfectum, sicut moveri opponitur ad motum esse, et fieri ad factum esse: unde ad fieri sequitur non esse eius quod fit in permanentibus, quorum esse est perfectum; secus autem est in successivis, quorum esse est imperfectum. Sic ergo hæc est vera, homo est albus, quodam homine existente albo; et pari ratione, quia quidam homo fit albus, hæc est vera, homo fit albus; ad quam sequitur, homo non est albus. Ergo istæ duæ sunt simul veræ, homo est albus, homo non est albus.  Deinde cum dicit: videbitur autem etc., excludit id quod faceret dubitationem circa prædicta; et dicit quod subito, id est primo aspectu videtur hoc esse inconveniens, quod dictum est; quia hoc quod dico, homo non est albus, videtur idem significare cum hoc quod est, nullus homo est albus. Sed ipse hoc removet dicens quod neque idem significant neque ex necessitate sunt simul vera, sicut ex prædictis manifestum est. Postquam philosophus distinxit diversos modos oppositionum in enunciationibus, nunc intendit ostendere quod uni affirmationi una negatio opponitur, et circa hoc duo facit: primo, ostendit quod uni affirmationi una negatio opponitur; secundo, ostendit quæ sit una affirmatio vel negatio, ibi: una autem affirmatio et cetera. Circa primum tria facit: primo, proponit quod intendit; secundo, manifestat propositum; ibi: hoc enim idem etc.; tertio, epilogat quæ dicta sunt; ibi: manifestum est ergo et cetera.  Dicit ergo primo, manifestum esse quod unius affirmationis est una negatio sola. Et hoc quidem fuit necessarium hic dicere: quia cum posuerit plura oppositionum genera, videbatur quod uni affirmationi duæ negationes opponerentur; sicut huic affirmativæ, omnis homo est albus, videtur, secundum prædicta, hæc negativa opponi, nullus homo est albus, et hæc, quidam homo non est albus. Sed si quis recte consideret huius affirmativæ, omnis homo est albus, negativa est sola ista, quidam homo non est albus, quæ solummodo removet ipsam, ut patet ex sua æquipollenti, quæ est, non omnis homo est albus. Universalis vero negativa includit quidem in suo intellectu negationem universalis affirmativæ, in quantum includit particularem negativam, sed supra hoc aliquid addit, in quantum scilicet importat non solum remotionem universalitatis, sed removet quamlibet partem eius. Et sic patet quod sola una est negatio universalis affirmationis: et idem apparet in aliis.  Deinde cum dicit: hoc enim etc., manifestat propositum: et primo, per rationem; secundo, per exempla; ibi: dico autem, ut est Socrates albus. Ratio autem sumitur ex hoc, quod supra dictum est quod negatio opponitur affirmationi, quæ est eiusdem de eodem: ex quo hic accipitur quod oportet negationem negare illud idem prædicatum, quod affirmatio affirmavit et de eodem subiecto, sive illud subiectum sit aliquid singulare, sive aliquid universale, vel universaliter, vel non universaliter sumptum; sed hoc non contingit fieri nisi uno modo, ita scilicet ut negatio neget id quod affirmatio posuit, et nihil aliud; ergo uni affirmationi opponitur una sola negatio. Expositio Peryermeneias, lib. 1 l. 12 n. 4 Deinde cum dicit: dico autem, ut est etc., manifestat propositum per exempla. Et primo, in singularibus: huic enim affirmationi, Socrates est albus, hæc sola opponitur, Socrates non est albus, tanquam eius propria negatio. Si vero esset aliud prædicatum vel aliud subiectum, non esset negatio opposita, sed omnino diversa; sicut ista, Socrates non est musicus, non opponitur ei quæ est, Socrates est albus; neque etiam illa quæ est, Plato est albus, huic quæ est, Socrates non est albus. Secundo, manifestat idem quando subiectum affirmationis est universale universaliter sumptum; sicut huic affirmationi, omnis homo est albus, opponitur sicut propria eius negatio, non omnis homo est albus, quæ æquipollet particulari negativæ. Tertio, ponit exemplum quando affirmationis subiectum est universale particulariter sumptum: et dicit quod huic affirmationi, aliquis homo est albus, opponitur tanquam eius propria negatio, nullus homo est albus. Nam nullus dicitur, quasi non ullus, idest, non aliquis. Quarto, ponit exemplum quando affirmationis subiectum est universale indefinite sumptum et dicit quod isti affirmationi, homo est albus, opponitur tanquam propria eius negatio illa quæ est, non est homo albus. Expositio Peryermeneias, lib. 1 l. 12 n. 5 Sed videtur hoc esse contra id, quod supra dictum est quod negativa indefinita verificatur simul cum indefinita affirmativa; negatio autem non potest verificari simul cum sua opposita affirmatione, quia non contingit de eodem affirmare et negare. Sed ad hoc dicendum quod oportet quod hic dicitur intelligi quando negatio ad idem refertur quod affirmatio continebat; et hoc potest esse dupliciter: uno modo, quando affirmatur aliquid inesse homini ratione sui ipsius (quod est per se de eodem prædicari), et hoc ipsum negatio negat; alio modo, quando aliquid affirmatur de universali ratione sui singularis, et pro eodem de eo negatur. Deinde cum dicit: quod igitur una affirmatio etc., epilogat quæ dicta sunt, et concludit manifestum esse ex prædictis quod uni affirmationi opponitur una negatio; et quod oppositarum affirmationum et negationum aliæ sunt contrariæ, aliæ contradictoriæ; et dictum est quæ sint utræque. Tacet autem de subcontrariis, quia non sunt recte oppositæ, ut supra dictum est. Dictum est etiam quod non omnis contradictio est vera vel falsa; et sumitur hic large contradictio pro qualicumque oppositione affirmationis et negationis: nam in his quæ sunt vere contradictoriæ semper una est vera, et altera falsa. Quare autem in quibusdam oppositis hoc non verificetur, dictum est supra; quia scilicet quædam non sunt contradictoriæ, sed contrariæ, quæ possunt simul esse falsæ. Contingit etiam affirmationem et negationem non proprie opponi; et ideo contingit eas esse veras simul. Dictum est autem quando altera semper est vera, altera autem falsa, quia scilicet in his quæ vere sunt contradictoria.  Deinde cum dicit: una autem affirmatio etc., ostendit quæ sit affirmatio vel negatio una. Quod quidem iam supra dixerat, ubi habitum est quod una est enunciatio, quæ unum significat; sed quia enunciatio, in qua aliquid prædicatur de aliquo universali universaliter vel non universaliter, multa sub se continet, intendit ostendere quod per hoc non impeditur unitas enunciationis. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, ostendit quod unitas enunciationis non impeditur per multitudinem, quæ continetur sub universali, cuius ratio una est; secundo, ostendit quod impeditur unitas enunciationis per multitudinem, quæ continetur sub sola nominis unitate; ibi: si vero duobus et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod una est affirmatio vel negatio cum unum significatur de uno, sive illud unum quod subiicitur sit universale universaliter sumptum sive non sit aliquid tale, sed sit universale particulariter sumptum vel indefinite, aut etiam si subiectum sit singulare. Et exemplificat de diversis sicut universalis ista affirmativa est una, omnis homo est albus; et similiter particularis negativa quæ est eius negatio, scilicet non est omnis homo albus. Et subdit alia exempla, quæ sunt manifesta. In fine autem apponit quamdam conditionem, quæ requiritur ad hoc quod quælibet harum sit una, si scilicet album, quod est prædicatum, significat unum: nam sola multitudo prædicati impediret unitatem enunciationis. Ideo autem universalis propositio una est, quamvis sub se multitudinem singularium comprehendat, quia prædicatum non attribuitur multis singularibus, secundum quod sunt in se divisa, sed secundum quod uniuntur in uno communi.  Deinde cum dicit: si vero duobus etc., ostendit quod sola unitas nominis non sufficit ad unitatem enunciationis. Et circa hoc quatuor facit: primo, proponit quod intendit; secundo, exemplificat; ibi: ut si quis ponat etc.; tertio, probat; ibi: nihil enim differt etc.; quarto, infert corollarium ex dictis; ibi: quare nec in his et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod si unum nomen imponatur duabus rebus, ex quibus non fit unum, non est affirmatio una. Quod autem dicit, ex quibus non fit unum, potest intelligi dupliciter. Uno modo, ad excludendum hoc quod multa continentur sub uno universali, sicut homo et equus sub animali: hoc enim nomen animal significat utrumque, non secundum quod sunt multa et differentia ad invicem, sed secundum quod uniuntur in natura generis. Alio modo, et melius, ad excludendum hoc quod ex multis partibus fit unum, sive sint partes rationis, sicut sunt genus et differentia, quæ sunt partes definitionis: sive sint partes integrales alicuius compositi, sicut ex lapidibus et lignis fit domus. Si ergo sit tale prædicatum quod attribuatur rei, requiritur ad unitatem enunciationis quod illa multa quæ significantur, concurrant in unum secundum aliquem dictorum modorum; unde non sufficeret sola unitas vocis. Si vero sit tale prædicatum quod referatur ad vocem, sufficiet unitas vocis; ut si dicam, canis est nomen.  Deinde cum dicit: ut si quis etc., exemplificat quod dictum est, ut si aliquis hoc nomen tunica imponat ad significandum hominem et equum: et sic, si dicam, tunica est alba, non est affirmatio una, neque negatio una. Deinde cum dicit: nihil enim differt etc., probat quod dixerat tali ratione. Si tunica significat hominem et equum, nihil differt si dicatur, tunica est alba, aut si dicatur, homo est albus, et, equus est albus; sed istæ, homo est albus, et equus est albus, significant multa et sunt plures enunciationes; ergo etiam ista, tunica est alba, multa significat. Et hoc si significet hominem et equum ut res diversas: si vero significet hominem et equum ut componentia unam rem, nihil significat, quia non est aliqua res quæ componatur ex homine et equo. Quod autem dicit quod non differt dicere, tunica est alba, et, homo est albus, et, equus est albus, non est intelligendum quantum ad veritatem et falsitatem. Nam hæc copulativa, homo est albus et equus est albus, non potest esse vera nisi utraque pars sit vera: sed hæc, tunica est alba, prædicta positione facta, potest esse vera etiam altera existente falsa; alioquin non oporteret distinguere multiplices propositiones ad solvendum rationes sophisticas. Sed hoc est intelligendum quantum ad unitatem et multiplicitatem. Nam sicut cum dicitur, homo est albus et equus est albus, non invenitur aliqua una res cui attribuatur prædicatum; ita etiam nec cum dicitur, tunica est alba.  Deinde cum dicit: quare nec in his etc., concludit ex præmissis quod nec in his affirmationibus et negationibus, quæ utuntur subiecto æquivoco, semper oportet unam esse veram et aliam falsam, quia scilicet negatio potest aliud negare quam affirmatio affirmet. Postquam philosophus determinavit de oppositione enunciationum et ostendit quomodo dividunt verum et falsum oppositæ enunciationes; hic inquirit de quodam quod poterat esse dubium, utrum scilicet id quod dictum es t similiter inveniatur in omnibus enunciationibus vel non. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, proponit dissimilitudinem; secundo, probat eam; ibi: nam si omnis affirmatio et cetera.  Circa primum considerandum est quod philosophus in præmissis triplicem divisionem enunciationum assignavit, quarum prima fuit secundum unitatem enunciationis, prout scilicet enunciatio est una simpliciter vel coniunctione una; secunda fuit secundum qualitatem, prout scilicet enunciatio est affirmativa vel negativa; tertia fuit secundum quantitatem, utpote quod enunciatio quædam est universalis, quædam particularis, quædam indefinita et quædam singularis. Tangitur autem hic quarta divisio enunciationum secundum tempus. Nam quædam est de præsenti, quædam de præterito, quædam de futuro; et hæc etiam divisio potest accipi ex his quæ supra dicta sunt: dictum est enim supra quod necesse est omnem enunciationem esse ex verbo vel ex casu verbi; verbum autem est quod consignificat præsens tempus; casus autem verbi sunt, qui consignificant tempus præteritum vel futurum. Potest autem accipi quinta divisio enunciationum secundum materiam, quæ quidem divisio attenditur secundum habitudinem prædicati ad subiectum: nam si prædicatum per se insit subiecto, dicetur esse enunciatio in materia necessaria vel naturali; ut cum dicitur, homo est animal, vel, homo est risibile. Si vero prædicatum per se repugnet subiecto quasi excludens rationem ipsius, dicetur enunciatio esse in materia impossibili sive remota; ut cum dicitur, homo est asinus. Si vero medio modo se habeat prædicatum ad subiectum, ut scilicet nec per se repugnet subiecto, nec per se insit, dicetur enunciatio esse in materia possibili sive contingenti. His igitur enunciationum differentiis consideratis, non similiter se habet iudicium de veritate et falsitate in omnibus. Unde philosophus dicit, ex præmissis concludens, quod in his quæ sunt, idest in propositionibus de præsenti, et in his quæ facta sunt, idest in enunciationibus de præterito, necesse est quod affirmatio vel negatio determinate sit vera vel falsa. Diversificatur tamen hoc, secundum diversam quantitatem enunciationis; nam in enunciationibus, in quibus de universalibus subiectis aliquid universaliter prædicatur, necesse est quod semper una sit vera, scilicet affirmativa vel negativa, et altera falsa, quæ scilicet ei opponitur. Dictum est enim supra quod negatio enunciationis universalis in qua aliquid universaliter prædicatur, est negativa non universalis, sed particularis, et e converso universalis negativa non est directe negatio universalis affirmativæ, sed particularis; et sic oportet, secundum prædicta, quod semper una earum sit vera et altera falsa in quacumque materia. Et eadem ratio est in enunciationibus singularibus, quæ etiam contradictorie opponuntur, ut supra habitum est. Sed in enunciationibus, in quibus aliquid prædicatur de universali non universaliter, non est necesse quod semper una sit vera et altera sit falsa, qui possunt ambæ esse simul veræ, ut supra ostensum est.  Et hoc quidem ita se habet quantum ad propositiones, quæ sunt de præterito vel de præsenti: sed si accipiamus enunciationes, quæ sunt de futuro, etiam similiter se habent quantum ad oppositiones, quæ sunt de universalibus vel universaliter vel non universaliter sumptis. Nam in materia necessaria omnes affirmativæ determinate sunt veræ, ita in futuris sicut in præteritis et præsentibus; negativæ vero falsæ. In materia autem impossibili, e contrario. In contingenti vero universales sunt falsæ et particulares sunt veræ, ita in futuris sicut in præteritis et præsentibus. In indefinitis autem, utraque simul est vera in futuris sicut in præsentibus vel præteritis.  Sed in singularibus et futuris est quædam dissimilitudo. Nam in præteritis et præsentibus necesse est quod altera oppositarum determinate sit vera et altera falsa in quacumque materia; sed in singularibus quæ sunt de futuro hoc non est necesse, quod una determinate sit vera et altera falsa. Et hoc quidem dicitur quantum ad materiam contingentem: nam quantum ad materiam necessariam et impossibilem similis ratio est in futuris singularibus, sicut in præsentibus et præteritis. Nec tamen Aristoteles mentionem fecit de materia contingenti, quia illa proprie ad singularia pertinent quæ contingenter eveniunt, quæ autem per se insunt vel repugnant, attribuuntur singularibus secundum universalium rationes. Circa hoc igitur versatur tota præsens intentio: utrum in enunciationibus singularibus de futuro in materia contingenti necesse sit quod determinate una oppositarum sit vera et altera falsa.  Deinde cum dicit: nam si omnis affirmatio etc., probat præmissam differentiam. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, probat propositum ducendo ad inconveniens; secundo, ostendit illa esse impossibilia quæ sequuntur; ibi: quare ergo contingunt inconvenientia et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ostendit quod in singularibus et futuris non semper potest determinate attribui veritas alteri oppositorum; secundo, ostendit quod non potest esse quod utraque veritate careat; ibi: at vero neque quoniam et cetera. Circa primum ponit duas rationes, in quarum prima ponit quamdam consequentiam, scilicet quod si omnis affirmatio vel negatio determinate est vera vel falsa ita in singularibus et futuris sicut in aliis, consequens est quod omnia necesse sit vel determinate esse vel non esse. Deinde cum dicit: quare si hic quidem etc. vel, si itaque hic quidem, ut habetur in Græco, probat consequentiam prædictam. Ponamus enim quod sint duo homines, quorum unus dicat aliquid esse futurum, puta quod Socrates curret, alius vero dicat hoc idem ipsum non esse futurum; supposita præmissa positione, scilicet quod in singularibus et futuris contingit alteram esse veram, scilicet vel affirmativam vel negativam, sequetur quod necesse sit quod alter eorum verum dicat, non autem uterque: quia non potest esse quod in singularibus propositionibus futuris utraque sit simul vera, scilicet affirmativa et negativa: sed hoc habet locum solum in indefinitis. Ex hoc autem quod necesse est alterum eorum verum dicere, sequitur quod necesse sit determinate vel esse vel non esse. Et hoc probat consequenter: quia ista duo se convertibiliter consequuntur, scilicet quod verum sit id quod dicitur, et quod ita sit in re. Et hoc est quod manifestat consequenter dicens quod si verum est dicere quod album sit, de necessitate sequitur quod ita sit in re; et si verum est negare, ex necessitate sequitur quod ita non sit. Et e converso: quia si ita est in re vel non est, ex necessitate sequitur quod sit verum affirmare vel negare. Et eadem etiam convertibilitas apparet in falso: quia, si aliquis mentitur falsum dicens, ex necessitate sequitur quod non ita sit in re, sicut ipse affirmat vel negat; et e converso, si non est ita in re sicut ipse affirmat vel negat, sequitur quod affirmans vel negans mentiatur.  Est ergo processus huius rationis talis. Si necesse est quod omnis affirmatio vel negatio in singularibus et futuris sit vera vel falsa, necesse est quod omnis affirmans vel negans determinate dicat verum vel falsum. Ex hoc autem sequitur quod omne necesse sit esse vel non esse. Ergo, si omnis affirmatio vel negatio determinate sit vera, necesse est omnia determinate esse vel non esse. Ex hoc concludit ulterius quod omnia sint ex necessitate. Per quod triplex genus contingentium excluditur.  Quædam enim contingunt ut in paucioribus, quæ accidunt a casu vel fortuna. Quædam vero se habent ad utrumlibet, quia scilicet non magis se habent ad unam partem, quam ad aliam, et ista procedunt ex electione. Quædam vero eveniunt ut in pluribus; sicut hominem canescere in senectute, quod causatur ex natura. Si autem omnia ex necessitate evenirent, nihil horum contingentium esset. Et ideo dicit nihil est quantum ad ipsam permanentiam eorum quæ permanent contingenter; neque fit quantum ad productionem eorum quæ contingenter causantur; nec casu quantum ad ea quæ sunt in minori parte, sive in paucioribus; nec utrumlibet quantum ad ea quæ se habent æqualiter ad utrumque, scilicet esse vel non esse, et ad neutrum horum sunt determinata: quod significat cum subdit, nec erit, nec non erit. De eo enim quod est magis determinatum ad unam partem possumus determinate verum dicere quod hoc erit vel non erit, sicut medicus de convalescente vere dicit, iste sanabitur, licet forte ex aliquo accidente eius sanitas impediatur. Unde et philosophus dicit in II de generatione quod futurus quis incedere, non incedet. De eo enim qui habet propositum determinatum ad incedendum, vere potest dici quod ipse incedet, licet per aliquod accidens impediatur eius incessus. Sed eius quod est ad utrumlibet proprium est quod, quia non determinatur magis ad unum quam ad alterum, non possit de eo determinate dici, neque quod erit, neque quod non erit. Quomodo autem sequatur quod nihil sit ad utrumlibet ex præmissa hypothesi, manifestat subdens quod, si omnis affirmatio vel negatio determinate sit vera, oportet quod vel ille qui affirmat vel ille qui negat dicat verum; et sic tollitur id quod est ad utrumlibet: quia, si esse aliquid ad utrumlibet, similiter se haberet ad hoc quod fieret vel non fieret, et non magis ad unum quam ad alterum. Est autem considerandum quod philosophus non excludit hic expresse contingens quod est ut in pluribus, duplici ratione. Primo quidem, quia tale contingens non excludit quin altera oppositarum enunciationum determinate sit vera et altera falsa, ut dictum est. Secundo, quia remoto contingenti quod est in paucioribus, quod a casu accidit, removetur per consequens contingens quod est ut in pluribus: nihil enim differt id quod est in pluribus ab eo quod est in paucioribus, nisi quod deficit in minori parte.  Deinde cum dicit: amplius si est album etc., ponit secundam rationem ad ostendendum prædictam dissimilitudinem, ducendo ad impossibile. Si enim similiter se habet veritas et falsitas in præsentibus et futuris, sequitur ut quidquid verum est de præsenti, etiam fuerit verum de futuro, eo modo quo est verum de præsenti. Sed determinate nunc est verum dicere de aliquo singulari quod est album; ergo primo, idest antequam illud fieret album, erat verum dicere quoniam hoc erit album. Sed eadem ratio videtur esse in propinquo et in remoto; ergo si ante unum diem verum fuit dicere quod hoc erit album, sequitur quod semper fuit verum dicere de quolibet eorum, quæ facta sunt, quod erit. Si autem semper est verum dicere de præsenti quoniam est, vel de futuro quoniam erit, non potest hoc non esse vel non futurum esse. Cuius consequentiæ ratio patet, quia ista duo sunt incompossibilia, quod aliquid vere dicatur esse, et quod non sit. Nam hoc includitur in significatione veri, ut sit id quod dicitur. Si ergo ponitur verum esse id quod dicitur de præsenti vel de futuro, non potest esse quin illud sit præsens vel futurum. Sed quod non potest non fieri idem significat cum eo quod est impossibile non fieri. Et quod impossibile est non fieri idem significat cum eo quod est necesse fieri, ut in secundo plenius dicetur. Sequitur ergo ex præmissis quod omnia, quæ futura sunt, necesse est fieri. Ex quo sequitur ulterius, quod nihil sit neque ad utrumlibet neque a casu, quia illud quod accidit a casu non est ex necessitate, sed ut in paucioribus; hoc autem relinquit pro inconvenienti; ergo et primum est falsum, scilicet quod omne quod est verum esse, verum fuerit determinate dicere esse futurum.  Ad cuius evidentiam considerandum est quod cum verum hoc significet ut dicatur aliquid esse quod est, hoc modo est aliquid verum, quo habet esse. Cum autem aliquid est in præsenti habet esse in seipso, et ideo vere potest dici de eo quod est: sed quamdiu aliquid est futurum, nondum est in seipso, est tamen aliqualiter in sua causa: quod quidem contingit tripliciter. Uno modo, ut sic sit in sua causa ut ex necessitate ex ea proveniat; et tunc determinate habet esse in sua causa; unde determinate potest dici de eo quod erit. Alio modo, aliquid est in sua causa, ut quæ habet inclinationem ad suum effectum, quæ tamen impediri potest; unde et hoc determinatum est in sua causa, sed mutabiliter; et sic de hoc vere dici potest, hoc erit, sed non per omnimodam certitudinem. Tertio, aliquid est in sua causa pure in potentia, quæ etiam non magis est determinata ad unum quam ad aliud; unde relinquitur quod nullo modo potest de aliquo eorum determinate dici quod sit futurum, sed quod sit vel non sit.  Deinde cum dicit: at vero neque quoniam etc., ostendit quod veritas non omnino deest in singularibus futuris utrique oppositorum; et primo, proponit quod intendit dicens quod sicut non est verum dicere quod in talibus alterum oppositorum sit verum determinate, sic non est verum dicere quod non utrumque sit verum; ut si quod dicamus, neque erit, neque non erit. Secundo, ibi: primum enim cum sit etc., probat propositum duabus rationibus. Quarum prima talis est: affirmatio et negatio dividunt verum et falsum, quod patet ex definitione veri et falsi: nam nihil aliud est verum quam esse quod est, vel non esse quod non est; et nihil aliud est falsum quam esse quod non est, vel non esse quod est; et sic oportet quod si affirmatio sit falsa, quod negatio sit vera; et e converso. Sed secundum prædictam positionem affirmatio est falsa, qua dicitur, hoc erit; nec tamen negatio est vera: et similiter negatio erit falsa, affirmatione non existente vera; ergo prædicta positio est impossibilis, scilicet quod veritas desit utrique oppositorum. Secundam rationem ponit; ibi: ad hæc si verum est et cetera. Quæ talis est: si verum est dicere aliquid, sequitur quod illud sit; puta si verum est dicere quod aliquid sit magnum et album, sequitur utraque esse. Et ita de futuro sicut de præsenti: sequitur enim esse cras, si verum est dicere quod erit cras. Si ergo vera est prædicta positio dicens quod neque cras erit, neque non erit, oportebit neque fieri, neque non fieri: quod est contra rationem eius quod est ad utrumlibet, quia quod est ad utrumlibet se habet ad alterutrum; ut navale bellum cras erit, vel non erit. Et ita ex hoc sequitur idem inconveniens quod in præmissis. Ostenderat superius philosophus ducendo ad inconveniens quod non est similiter verum vel falsum determinate in altero oppositorum in singularibus et futuris, sicut supra de aliis enunciationibus dixerat; nunc autem ostendit inconvenientia ad quæ adduxerat esse impossibilia. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, ostendit impossibilia ea quæ sequebantur; secundo, concludit quomodo circa hæc se veritas habeat; ibi: igitur esse quod est et cetera.  Circa primum tria facit: primo, ponit inconvenientia quæ sequuntur; secundo, ostendit hæc inconvenientia ex prædicta positione sequi; ibi: nihil enim prohibet etc.; tertio, ostendit esse impossibilia inconvenientia memorata; ibi: quod si hæc possibilia non sunt et cetera. Dicit ergo primo, ex prædictis rationibus concludens, quod hæc inconvenientia sequuntur, si ponatur quod necesse sit oppositarum enunciationum alteram determinate esse veram et alteram esse falsam similiter in singularibus sicut in universalibus, quod scilicet nihil in his quæ fiunt sit ad utrumlibet, sed omnia sint et fiant ex necessitate. Et ex hoc ulterius inducit alia duo inconvenientia. Quorum primum est quod non oportebit de aliquo consiliari: probatum est enim in III Ethicorum quod consilium non est de his, quæ sunt ex necessitate, sed solum de contingentibus, quæ possunt esse et non esse. Secundum inconveniens est quod omnes actiones humanæ, quæ sunt propter aliquem finem (puta negotiatio, quæ est propter divitias acquirendas), erunt superfluæ: quia si omnia ex necessitate eveniunt, sive operemur sive non operemur erit quod intendimus. Sed hoc est contra intentionem hominum, quia ea intentione videntur consiliari et negotiari ut, si hæc faciant, erit talis finis, si autem faciunt aliquid aliud, erit alius finis.  Deinde cum dicit: nihil enim prohibet etc., probat quod dicta inconvenientia consequantur ex dicta positione. Et circa hoc duo facit: primo, ostendit prædicta inconvenientia sequi, quodam possibili posito; secundo, ostendit quod eadem inconvenientia sequantur etiam si illud non ponatur; ibi: at nec hoc differt et cetera. Dicit ergo primo, non esse impossibile quod ante mille annos, quando nihil apud homines erat præcogitatum, vel præordinatum de his quæ nunc aguntur, unus dixerit quod hoc erit, puta quod civitas talis subverteretur, alius autem dixerit quod hoc non erit. Sed si omnis affirmatio vel negatio determinate est vera, necesse est quod alter eorum determinate verum dixerit; ergo necesse fuit alterum eorum ex necessitate evenire; et eadem ratio est in omnibus aliis; ergo omnia ex necessitate eveniunt.  Deinde cum dicit: at vero neque hoc differt etc., ostendit quod idem sequitur si illud possibile non ponatur. Nihil enim differt, quantum ad rerum existentiam vel eventum, si uno affirmante hoc esse futurum, alius negaverit vel non negaverit; ita enim se habebit res si hoc factum fuerit, sicut si hoc non factum fuerit. Non enim propter nostrum affirmare vel negare mutatur cursus rerum, ut sit aliquid vel non sit: quia veritas nostræ enunciationis non est causa existentiæ rerum, sed potius e converso. Similiter etiam non differt quantum ad eventum eius quod nunc agitur, utrum fuerit affirmatum vel negatum ante millesimum annum vel ante quodcumque tempus. Sic ergo, si in quocumque tempore præterito, ita se habebat veritas enunciationum, ut necesse esset quod alterum oppositorum vere diceretur; et ad hoc quod necesse est aliquid vere dici sequitur quod necesse sit illud esse vel fieri; consequens est quod unumquodque eorum quæ fiunt, sic se habeat ut ex necessitate fiat. Et huiusmodi consequentiæ rationem assignat per hoc, quod si ponatur aliquem vere dicere quod hoc erit, non potest non futurum esse. Sicut supposito quod sit homo, non potest non esse animal rationale mortale. Hoc enim significatur, cum dicitur aliquid vere dici, scilicet quod ita sit ut dicitur. Eadem autem habitudo est eorum, quæ nunc dicuntur, ad ea quæ futura sunt, quæ erat eorum, quæ prius dicebantur, ad ea quæ sunt præsentia vel præterita; et ita omnia ex necessitate acciderunt, et accidunt, et accident, quia quod nunc factum est, utpote in præsenti vel in præterito existens, semper verum erat dicere, quoniam erit futurum.  Deinde cum dicit: quod si hæc possibilia non sunt etc., ostendit prædicta esse impossibilia: et primo, per rationem; secundo, per exempla sensibilia; ibi: et multa nobis manifesta et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ostendit propositum in rebus humanis; secundo, etiam in aliis rebus; ibi: et quoniam est omnino et cetera. Quantum autem ad res humanas ostendit esse impossibilia quæ dicta sunt, per hoc quod homo manifeste videtur esse principium eorum futurorum, quæ agit quasi dominus existens suorum actuum, et in sua potestate habens agere vel non agere; quod quidem principium si removeatur, tollitur totus ordo conversationis humanæ, et omnia principia philosophiæ moralis. Hoc enim sublato non erit aliqua utilitas persuasionis, nec comminationis, nec punitionis aut remunerationis, quibus homines alliciuntur ad bona et retrahuntur a malis, et sic evacuatur tota civilis scientia. Hoc ergo philosophus accipit pro principio manifesto quod homo sit principium futurorum; non est autem futurorum principium nisi per hoc quod consiliatur et facit aliquid: ea enim quæ agunt absque consilio non habent dominium sui actus, quasi libere iudicantes de his quæ sunt agenda, sed quodam naturali instinctu moventur ad agendum, ut patet in animalibus brutis. Unde impossibile est quod supra conclusum est quod non oporteat nos negotiari vel consiliari. Et sic etiam impossibile est illud ex quo sequebatur, scilicet quod omnia ex necessitate eveniant.  Deinde cum dicit: et quoniam est omnino etc., ostendit idem etiam in aliis rebus. Manifestum est enim etiam in rebus naturalibus esse quædam, quæ non semper actu sunt; ergo in eis contingit esse et non esse: alioquin vel semper essent, vel semper non essent. Id autem quod non est, incipit esse aliquid per hoc quod fit illud; sicut id quod non est album, incipit esse album per hoc quod fit album. Si autem non fiat album permanet non ens album. Ergo in quibus contingit esse et non esse, contingit etiam fieri et non fieri. Non ergo talia ex necessitate sunt vel fiunt, sed est in eis natura possibilitatis, per quam se habent ad fieri et non fieri, esse et non esse.  Deinde cum dicit: ac multa nobis manifesta etc., ostendit propositum per sensibilia exempla. Sit enim, puta, vestis nova; manifestum est quod eam possibile est incidi, quia nihil obviat incisioni, nec ex parte agentis nec ex parte patientis. Probat autem quod simul cum hoc quod possibile est eam incidi, possibile est etiam eam non incidi, eodem modo quo supra probavit duas indefinitas oppositas esse simul veras, scilicet per assumptionem contrarii. Sicut enim possibile est istam vestem incidi, ita possibile est eam exteri, idest vetustate corrumpi; sed si exteritur non inciditur; ergo utrumque possibile est, scilicet eam incidi et non incidi. Et ex hoc universaliter concludit quod in aliis futuris, quæ non sunt in actu semper, sed sunt in potentia, hoc manifestum est quod non omnia ex necessitate sunt vel fiunt, sed eorum quædam sunt ad utrumlibet, quæ non se habent magis ad affirmationem quam ad negationem; alia vero sunt in quibus alterum eorum contingit ut in pluribus, sed tamen contingit etiam ut in paucioribus quod altera pars sit vera, et non alia, quæ scilicet contingit ut in pluribus.  Est autem considerandum quod, sicut Boethius dicit hic in commento, circa possibile et necessarium diversimode aliqui sunt opinati. Quidam enim distinxerunt ea secundum eventum, sicut Diodorus, qui dixit illud esse impossibile quod nunquam erit; necessarium vero quod semper erit; possibile vero quod quandoque erit, quandoque non erit. Stoici vero distinxerunt hæc secundum exteriora prohibentia. Dixerunt enim necessarium esse illud quod non potest prohiberi quin sit verum; impossibile vero quod semper prohibetur a veritate; possibile vero quod potest prohiberi vel non prohiberi. Utraque autem distinctio videtur esse incompetens. Nam prima distinctio est a posteriori: non enim ideo aliquid est necessarium, quia semper erit; sed potius ideo semper erit, quia est necessarium: et idem patet in aliis. Secunda autem assignatio est ab exteriori et quasi per accidens: non enim ideo aliquid est necessarium, quia non habet impedimentum, sed quia est necessarium, ideo impedimentum habere non potest. Et ideo alii melius ista distinxerunt secundum naturam rerum, ut scilicet dicatur illud necessarium, quod in sua natura determinatum est solum ad esse; impossibile autem quod est determinatum solum ad non esse; possibile autem quod ad neutrum est omnino determinatum, sive se habeat magis ad unum quam ad alterum, sive se habeat æqualiter ad utrumque, quod dicitur contingens ad utrumlibet. Et hoc est quod Boethius attribuit Philoni. Sed manifeste hæc est sententia Aristotelis in hoc loco. Assignat enim rationem possibilitatis et contingentiæ, in his quidem quæ sunt a nobis ex eo quod sumus consiliativi, in aliis autem ex eo quod materia est in potentia ad utrumque oppositorum.  Sed videtur hæc ratio non esse sufficiens. Sicut enim in corporibus corruptibilibus materia invenitur in potentia se habens ad esse et non esse, ita etiam in corporibus cælestibus invenitur potentia ad diversa ubi, et tamen nihil in eis evenit contingenter, sed solum ex necessitate. Unde dicendum est quod possibilitas materiæ ad utrumque, si communiter loquamur, non est sufficiens ratio contingentiæ, nisi etiam addatur ex parte potentiæ activæ quod non sit omnino determinata ad unum; alioquin si ita sit determinata ad unum quod impediri non potest, consequens est quod ex necessitate reducat in actum potentiam passivam eodem modo.  Hoc igitur quidam attendentes posuerunt quod potentia, quæ est in ipsis rebus naturalibus, sortitur necessitatem ex aliqua causa determinata ad unum quam dixerunt fatum. Quorum Stoici posuerunt fatum in quadam serie, seu connexione causarum, supponentes quod omne quod in hoc mundo accidit habet causam; causa autem posita, necesse est effectum poni. Et si una causa per se non sufficit, multæ causæ ad hoc concurrentes accipiunt rationem unius causæ sufficientis; et ita concludebant quod omnia ex necessitate eveniunt.  Sed hanc rationem solvit Aristoteles in VI metaphysicæ interimens utramque propositionum assumptarum. Dicit enim quod non omne quod fit habet causam, sed solum illud quod est per se. Sed illud quod est per accidens non habet causam; quia proprie non est ens, sed magis ordinatur cum non ente, ut etiam Plato dixit. Unde esse musicum habet causam, et similiter esse album; sed hoc quod est, album esse musicum, non habet causam: et idem est in omnibus aliis huiusmodi. Similiter etiam hæc est falsa, quod posita causa etiam sufficienti, necesse est effectum poni: non enim omnis causa est talis (etiamsi sufficiens sit) quod eius effectus impediri non possit; sicut ignis est sufficiens causa combustionis lignorum, sed tamen per effusionem aquæ impeditur combustio.  Si autem utraque propositionum prædictarum esset vera, infallibiliter sequeretur omnia ex necessitate contingere. Quia si quilibet effectus habet causam, esset effectum (qui est futurus post quinque dies, aut post quantumcumque tempus) reducere in aliquam causam priorem: et sic quousque esset devenire ad causam, quæ nunc est in præsenti, vel iam fuit in præterito; si autem causa posita, necesse est effectum poni, per ordinem causarum deveniret necessitas usque ad ultimum effectum. Puta, si comedit salsa, sitiet: si sitiet, exibit domum ad bibendum: si exibit domum, occidetur a latronibus. Quia ergo iam comedit salsa, necesse est eum occidi. Et ideo Aristoteles ad hoc excludendum ostendit utramque prædictarum propositionum esse falsam, ut dictum est.  Obiiciunt autem quidam contra hoc, dicentes quod omne per accidens reducitur ad aliquid per se, et ita oportet effectum qui est per accidens reduci in causam per se. Sed non attendunt quod id quod est per accidens reducitur ad per se, in quantum accidit ei quod est per se, sicut musicum accidit Socrati, et omne accidens alicui subiecto per se existenti. Et similiter omne quod in aliquo effectu est per accidens consideratur circa aliquem effectum per se: qui quantum ad id quod per se est habet causam per se, quantum autem ad id quod inest ei per accidens non habet causam per se, sed causam per accidens. Oportet enim effectum proportionaliter referre ad causam suam, ut in II physicorum et in V methaphysicæ dicitur.  Quidam vero non attendentes differentiam effectuum per accidens et per se, tentaverunt reducere omnes effectus hic inferius provenientes in aliquam causam per se, quam ponebant esse virtutem cælestium corporum in qua ponebant fatum, dicentes nihil aliud esse fatum quam vim positionis syderum. Sed ex hac causa non potest provenire necessitas in omnibus quæ hic aguntur. Multa enim hic fiunt ex intellectu et voluntate, quæ per se et directe non subduntur virtuti cælestium corporum: cum enim intellectus sive ratio et voluntas quæ est in ratione, non sint actus organi corporalis, ut probatur in libro de anima, impossibile est quod directe subdantur intellectus seu ratio et voluntas virtuti cælestium corporum: nulla enim vis corporalis potest agere per se, nisi in rem corpoream. Vires autem sensitivæ in quantum sunt actus organorum corporalium per accidens subduntur actioni cælestium corporum. Unde philosophus in libro de anima opinionem ponentium voluntatem hominis subiici motui cæli adscribit his, qui non ponebant intellectum differre a sensu. Indirecte tamen vis cælestium corporum redundat ad intellectum et voluntatem, in quantum scilicet intellectus et voluntas utuntur viribus sensitivis. Manifestum autem est quod passiones virium sensitivarum non inferunt necessitatem rationi et voluntati. Nam continens habet pravas concupiscentias, sed non deducitur, ut patet per philosophum in VII Ethicorum. Sic igitur ex virtute cælestium corporum non provenit necessitas in his quæ per rationem et voluntatem fiunt. Similiter nec in aliis corporalibus effectibus rerum corruptibilium, in quibus multa per accidens eveniunt. Id autem quod est per accidens non potest reduci ut in causam per se in aliquam virtutem naturalem, quia virtus naturæ se habet ad unum; quod autem est per accidens non est unum; unde et supra dictum est quod hæc enunciatio non est una, Socrates est albus musicus, quia non significat unum. Et ideo philosophus dicit in libro de somno et vigilia quod multa, quorum signa præexistunt in corporibus cælestibus, puta in imbribus et tempestatibus, non eveniunt, quia scilicet impediuntur per accidens. Et quamvis illud etiam impedimentum secundum se consideratum reducatur in aliquam causam cælestem; tamen concursus horum, cum sit per accidens, non potest reduci in aliquam causam naturaliter agentem.  Sed considerandum est quod id quod est per accidens potest ab intellectu accipi ut unum, sicut album esse musicum, quod quamvis secundum se non sit unum, tamen intellectus ut unum accipit, in quantum scilicet componendo format enunciationem unam. Et secundum hoc contingit id, quod secundum se per accidens evenit et casualiter, reduci in aliquem intellectum præordinantem; sicut concursus duorum servorum ad certum locum est per accidens et casualis quantum ad eos, cum unus eorum ignoret de alio; potest tamen esse per se intentus a domino, qui utrumque mittit ad hoc quod in certo loco sibi occurrant.  Et secundum hoc aliqui posuerunt omnia quæcumque in hoc mundo aguntur, etiam quæ videntur fortuita vel casualia, reduci in ordinem providentiæ divinæ, ex qua dicebant dependere fatum. Et hoc quidem aliqui stulti negaverunt, iudicantes de intellectu divino ad modum intellectus nostri, qui singularia non cognoscit. Hoc autem est falsum: nam intelligere divinum et velle eius est ipsum esse ipsius. Unde sicut esse eius sua virtute comprehendit omne illud quod quocumque modo est, in quantum scilicet est per participationem ipsius; ita etiam suum intelligere et suum intelligibile comprehendit omnem cognitionem et omne cognoscibile; et suum velle et suum volitum comprehendit omnem appetitum et omne appetibile quod est bonum; ut, scilicet ex hoc ipso quod aliquid est cognoscibile cadat sub eius cognitione, et ex hoc ipso quod est bonum cadat sub eius voluntate: sicut ex hoc ipso quod est ens, aliquid cadit sub eius virtute activa, quam ipse perfecte comprehendit, cum sit per intellectum agens.   Sed si providentia divina sit per se causa omnium quæ in hoc mundo accidunt, saltem bonorum, videtur quod omnia ex necessitate accidant. Primo quidem ex parte scientiæ eius: non enim potest eius scientia falli; et ita ea quæ ipse scit, videtur quod necesse sit evenire. Secundo ex parte voluntatis: voluntas enim Dei inefficax esse non potest; videtur ergo quod omnia quæ vult, ex necessitate eveniant.  Procedunt autem hæ obiectiones ex eo quod cognitio divini intellectus et operatio divinæ voluntatis pensantur ad modum eorum, quæ in nobis sunt, cum tamen multo dissimiliter se habeant.  Nam primo quidem ex parte cognitionis vel scientiæ considerandum est quod ad cognoscendum ea quæ secundum ordinem temporis eveniunt, aliter se habet vis cognoscitiva, quæ sub ordine temporis aliqualiter continetur, aliter illa quæ totaliter est extra ordinem temporis. Cuius exemplum conveniens accipi potest ex ordine loci: nam secundum philosophum in IV physicorum, secundum prius et posterius in magnitudine est prius et posterius in motu et per consequens in tempore. Si ergo sint multi homines per viam aliquam transeuntes, quilibet eorum qui sub ordine transeuntium continetur habet cognitionem de præcedentibus et subsequentibus, in quantum sunt præcedentes et subsequentes; quod pertinet ad ordinem loci. Et ideo quilibet eorum videt eos, qui iuxta se sunt et aliquos eorum qui eos præcedunt; eos autem qui post se sunt videre non potest. Si autem esset aliquis extra totum ordinem transeuntium, utpote in aliqua excelsa turri constitutus, unde posset totam viam videre, videret quidem simul omnes in via existentes, non sub ratione præcedentis et subsequentis (in comparatione scilicet ad eius intuitum), sed simul omnes videret, et quomodo unus eorum alium præcedit. Quia igitur cognitio nostra cadit sub ordine temporis, vel per se vel per accidens (unde et anima in componendo et dividendo necesse habet adiungere tempus, ut dicitur in III de anima), consequens est quod sub eius cognitione cadant res sub ratione præsentis, præteriti et futuri. Et ideo præsentia cognoscit tanquam actu existentia et sensu aliqualiter perceptibilia; præterita autem cognoscit ut memorata; futura autem non cognoscit in seipsis, quia nondum sunt, sed cognoscere ea potest in causis suis: per certitudinem quidem, si totaliter in causis suis sint determinata, ut ex quibus de necessitate evenient; per coniecturam autem, si non sint sic determinata quin impediri possint, sicut quæ sunt ut in pluribus; nullo autem modo, si in suis causis sunt omnino in potentia non magis determinata ad unum quam ad aliud, sicut quæ sunt ad utrumlibet. Non enim est aliquid cognoscibile secundum quod est in potentia, sed solum secundum quod est in actu, ut patet per philosophum in IX metaphysicæ.  Sed Deus est omnino extra ordinem temporis, quasi in arce æternitatis constitutus, quæ est tota simul, cui subiacet totus temporis decursus secundum unum et simplicem eius intuitum; et ideo uno intuitu videt omnia quæ aguntur secundum temporis decursum, et unumquodque secundum quod est in seipso existens, non quasi sibi futurum quantum ad eius intuitum prout est in solo ordine suarum causarum (quamvis et ipsum ordinem causarum videat), sed omnino æternaliter sic videt unumquodque eorum quæ sunt in quocumque tempore, sicut oculus humanus videt Socratem sedere in seipso, non in causa sua. Ex hoc autem quod homo videt Socratem sedere, non tollitur eius contingentia quæ respicit ordinem causæ ad effectum; tamen certissime et infallibiliter videt oculus hominis Socratem sedere dum sedet, quia unumquodque prout est in seipso iam determinatum est. Sic igitur relinquitur, quod Deus certissime et infallibiliter cognoscat omnia quæ fiunt in tempore; et tamen ea quæ in tempore eveniunt non sunt vel fiunt ex necessitate, sed contingenter.  Similiter ex parte voluntatis divinæ differentia est attendenda. Nam voluntas divina est intelligenda ut extra ordinem entium existens, velut causa quædam profundens totum ens et omnes eius differentias. Sunt autem differentiæ entis possibile et necessarium; et ideo ex ipsa voluntate divina originantur necessitas et contingentia in rebus et distinctio utriusque secundum rationem proximarum causarum: ad effectus enim, quos voluit necessarios esse, disposuit causas necessarias; ad effectus autem, quos voluit esse contingentes, ordinavit causas contingenter agentes, idest potentes deficere. Et secundum harum conditionem causarum, effectus dicuntur vel necessarii vel contingentes, quamvis omnes dependeant a voluntate divina, sicut a prima causa, quæ transcendit ordinem necessitatis et contingentiæ. Hoc autem non potest dici de voluntate humana, nec de aliqua alia causa: quia omnis alia causa cadit iam sub ordine necessitatis vel contingentiæ; et ideo oportet quod vel ipsa causa possit deficere, vel effectus eius non sit contingens, sed necessarius. Voluntas autem divina indeficiens est; tamen non omnes effectus eius sunt necessarii, sed quidam contingentes. Similiter autem aliam radicem contingentiæ, quam hic philosophus ponit ex hoc quod sumus consiliativi, aliqui subvertere nituntur, volentes ostendere quod voluntas in eligendo ex necessitate movetur ab appetibili. Cum enim bonum sit obiectum voluntatis, non potest (ut videtur) ab hoc divertere quin appetat illud quod sibi videtur bonum; sicut nec ratio ab hoc potest divertere quin assentiat ei quod sibi videtur verum. Et ita videtur quod electio consilium consequens semper ex necessitate proveniat; et sic omnia, quorum nos principium sumus per consilium et electionem, ex necessitate provenient. Sed dicendum est quod similis differentia attendenda est circa bonum, sicut circa verum. Est autem quoddam verum, quod est per se notum, sicut prima principia indemonstrabilia, quibus ex necessitate intellectus assentit; sunt autem quædam vera non per se nota, sed per alia. Horum autem duplex est conditio: quædam enim ex necessitate consequuntur ex principiis, ita scilicet quod non possunt esse falsa, principiis existentibus veris, sicut sunt omnes conclusiones demonstrationum. Et huiusmodi veris ex necessitate assentit intellectus, postquam perceperit ordinem eorum ad principia, non autem prius. Quædam autem sunt, quæ non ex necessitate consequuntur ex principiis, ita scilicet quod possent esse falsa principiis existentibus veris; sicut sunt opinabilia, quibus non ex necessitate assentit intellectus, quamvis ex aliquo motivo magis inclinetur in unam partem quam in aliam. Ita etiam est quoddam bonum quod est propter se appetibile, sicut felicitas, quæ habet rationem ultimi finis; et huiusmodi bono ex necessitate inhæret voluntas: naturali enim quadam necessitate omnes appetunt esse felices. Quædam vero sunt bona, quæ sunt appetibilia propter finem, quæ comparantur ad finem sicut conclusiones ad principium, ut patet per philosophum in II physicorum. Si igitur essent aliqua bona, quibus non existentibus, non posset aliquis esse felix, hæc etiam essent ex necessitate appetibilia et maxime apud eum, qui talem ordinem perciperet; et forte talia sunt esse, vivere et intelligere et si qua alia sunt similia. Sed particularia bona, in quibus humani actus consistunt, non sunt talia, nec sub ea ratione apprehenduntur ut sine quibus felicitas esse non possit, puta, comedere hunc cibum vel illum, aut abstinere ab eo: habent tamen in se unde moveant appetitum, secundum aliquod bonum consideratum in eis. Et ideo voluntas non ex necessitate inducitur ad hæc eligenda. Et propter hoc philosophus signanter radicem contingentiæ in his quæ fiunt a nobis assignavit ex parte consilii, quod est eorum quæ sunt ad finem et tamen non sunt determinata. In his enim in quibus media sunt determinata, non est opus consilio, ut dicitur in III Ethicorum. Et hæc quidem dicta sunt ad salvandum radices contingentiæ, quas hic Aristoteles ponit, quamvis videantur logici negotii modum excedere. Postquam philosophus ostendit esse impossibilia ea, quæ ex prædictis rationibus sequebantur; hic, remotis impossibilibus, concludit veritatem. Et circa hoc duo facit: quia enim argumentando ad impossibile, processerat ab enunciationibus ad res, et iam removerat inconvenientia quæ circa res sequebantur; nunc, ordine converso, primo ostendit qualiter se habeat veritas circa res; secundo, qualiter se habeat veritas circa enunciationes; ibi: quare quoniam orationes veræ sunt et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ostendit qualiter se habeant veritas et necessitas circa res absolute consideratas; secundo, qualiter se habeant circa eas per comparationem ad sua opposita; ibi: et in contradictione eadem ratio est et cetera. Dicit ergo primo, quasi ex præmissis concludens, quod si prædicta sunt inconvenientia, ut scilicet omnia ex necessitate eveniant, oportet dicere ita se habere circa res, scilicet quod omne quod est necesse est esse quando est, et omne quod non est necesse est non esse quando non est. Et hæc necessitas fundatur super hoc principium: impossibile est simul esse et non esse: si enim aliquid est, impossibile est illud simul non esse; ergo necesse est tunc illud esse. Nam impossibile non esse idem significat ei quod est necesse esse, ut in secundo dicetur. Et similiter, si aliquid non est, impossibile est illud simul esse; ergo necesse est non esse, quia etiam idem significant. Et ideo manifeste verum est quod omne quod est necesse est esse quando est; et omne quod non est necesse est non esse pro illo tempore quando non est: et hæc est necessitas non absoluta, sed ex suppositione. Unde non potest simpliciter et absolute dici quod omne quod est, necesse est esse, et omne quod non est, necesse est non esse: quia non idem significant quod omne ens, quando est, sit ex necessitate, et quod omne ens simpliciter sit ex necessitate; nam primum significat necessitatem ex suppositione, secundum autem necessitatem absolutam. Et quod dictum est de esse, intelligendum est similiter de non esse; quia aliud est simpliciter ex necessitate non esse et aliud est ex necessitate non esse quando non est. Et per hoc videtur Aristoteles excludere id quod supra dictum est, quod si in his, quæ sunt, alterum determinate est verum, quod etiam antequam fieret alterum determinate esset futurum.  Deinde cum dicit: et in contradictione etc., ostendit quomodo se habeant veritas et necessitas circa res per comparationem ad sua opposita: et dicit quod eadem ratio est in contradictione, quæ est in suppositione. Sicut enim illud quod non est absolute necessarium, fit necessarium ex suppositione eiusdem, quia necesse est esse quando est; ita etiam quod non est in se necessarium absolute fit necessarium per disiunctionem oppositi, quia necesse est de unoquoque quod sit vel non sit, et quod futurum sit aut non sit, et hoc sub disiunctione: et hæc necessitas fundatur super hoc principium quod, impossibile est contradictoria simul esse vera vel falsa. Unde impossibile est neque esse neque non esse; ergo necesse est vel esse vel non esse. Non tamen si divisim alterum accipiatur, necesse est illud esse absolute. Et hoc manifestat per exemplum: quia necessarium est navale bellum esse futurum cras vel non esse; sed non est necesse navale bellum futurum esse cras; similiter etiam non est necessarium non esse futurum, quia hoc pertinet ad necessitatem absolutam; sed necesse est quod vel sit futurum cras vel non sit futurum: hoc enim pertinet ad necessitatem quæ est sub disiunctione.  Deinde cum dicit: quare quoniam etc. ex eo quod se habet circa res, ostendit qualiter se habeat circa orationes. Et primo, ostendit quomodo uniformiter se habet in veritate orationum, sicut circa esse rerum et non esse; secundo, finaliter concludit veritatem totius dubitationis; ibi: quare manifestum et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod, quia hoc modo se habent orationes enunciativæ ad veritatem sicut et res ad esse vel non esse (quia ex eo quod res est vel non est, oratio est vera vel falsa), consequens est quod in omnibus rebus quæ ita se habent ut sint ad utrumlibet, et quæcumque ita se habent quod contradictoria eorum qualitercumque contingere possunt, sive æqualiter sive alterum ut in pluribus, ex necessitate sequitur quod etiam similiter se habeat contradictio enunciationum. Et exponit consequenter quæ sint illæ res, quarum contradictoria contingere queant; et dicit huiusmodi esse quæ neque semper sunt, sicut necessaria, neque semper non sunt, sicut impossibilia, sed quandoque sunt et quandoque non sunt. Et ulterius manifestat quomodo similiter se habeat in contradictoriis enunciationibus; et dicit quod harum enunciationum, quæ sunt de contingentibus, necesse est quod sub disiunctione altera pars contradictionis sit vera vel falsa; non tamen hæc vel illa determinate, sed se habet ad utrumlibet. Et si contingat quod altera pars contradictionis magis sit vera, sicut accidit in contingentibus quæ sunt ut in pluribus, non tamen ex hoc necesse est quod ex necessitate altera earum determinate sit vera vel falsa.  Deinde cum dicit: quare manifestum est etc., concludit principale intentum et dicit manifestum esse ex prædictis quod non est necesse in omni genere affirmationum et negationum oppositarum, alteram determinate esse veram et alteram esse falsam: quia non eodem modo se habet veritas et falsitas in his quæ sunt iam de præsenti et in his quæ non sunt, sed possunt esse vel non esse. Sed hoc modo se habet in utriusque, sicut dictum est, quia scilicet in his quæ sunt necesse est determinate alterum esse verum et alterum falsum: quod non contingit in futuris quæ possunt esse et non esse. Et sic terminatur primus liber. Postquam philosophus in primo libro determinavit de enunciatione simpliciter considerata; hic determinat de enunciatione, secundum quod diversificatur per aliquid sibi additum. Possunt autem tria in enunciatione considerari: primo, ipsæ dictiones, quæ prædicantur vel subiiciuntur in enunciatione, quas supra distinxit per nomina et verba; secundo, ipsa compositio, secundum quam est verum vel falsum in enunciatione affirmativa vel negativa; tertio, ipsa oppositio unius enunciationis ad aliam. Dividitur ergo hæc pars in tres partes: in prima, ostendit quid accidat enunciationi ex hoc quod aliquid additur ad dictiones in subiecto vel prædicato positas; secundo, quid accidat enunciationi ex hoc quod aliquid additur ad determinandum veritatem vel falsitatem compositionis; ibi: his vero determinatis etc.; tertio, solvit quamdam dubitationem circa oppositiones enunciationum provenientem ex eo, quod additur aliquid simplici enunciationi; ibi: utrum autem contraria est affirmatio et cetera. Est autem considerandum quod additio facta ad prædicatum vel subiectum quandoque tollit unitatem enunciationis, quandoque vero non tollit, sicut additio negationis infinitantis dictionem. Circa primum ergo duo facit: primo, ostendit quid accidat enunciationibus ex additione negationis infinitantis dictionem; secundo, ostendit quid accidat circa enunciationem ex additione tollente unitatem; ibi: at vero unum de pluribus et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, determinat de enunciationibus simplicissimis, in quibus nomen finitum vel infinitum ponitur tantum ex parte subiecti; secundo, determinat de enunciationibus, in quibus nomen finitum vel infinitum ponitur non solum ex parte subiecti, sed etiam ex parte prædicati; ibi: quando autem est tertium adiacens et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, proponit rationes quasdam distinguendi tales enunciationes; secundo, ponit earum distinctionem et ordinem; ibi: quare prima est affirmatio et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, ponit rationes distinguendi enunciationes ex parte nominum; secundo, ostendit quod non potest esse eadem ratio distinguendi ex parte verborum; ibi: præter verbum autem et cetera. Circa primum tria facit: primo, proponit rationes distinguendi enunciationes; secundo, exponit quod dixerat; ibi: nomen autem dictum est etc.; tertio, concludit intentum; ibi: erit omnis affirmatio et cetera.  Resumit ergo illud, quod supra dictum est de definitione affirmationis, quod scilicet affirmatio est enunciatio significans aliquid de aliquo; et, quia verbum est proprie nota eorum quæ de altero prædicantur, consequens est ut illud, de quo aliquid dicitur, pertineat ad nomen; nomen autem est vel finitum vel infinitum; et ideo, quasi concludens subdit quod quia affirmatio significat aliquid de aliquo, consequens est ut hoc, de quo significatur, scilicet subiectum affirmationis, sit vel nomen, scilicet finitum (quod proprie dicitur nomen, ut in primo dictum est), vel innominatum, idest infinitum nomen: quod dicitur innominatum, quia ipsum non nominat aliquid cum aliqua forma determinata, sed solum removet determinationem formæ. Et ne aliquis diceret quod id quod in affirmatione subiicitur est simul nomen et innominatum, ad hoc excludendum subdit quod id quod est, scilicet prædicatum, in affirmatione, scilicet una, de qua nunc loquimur, oportet esse unum et de uno subiecto; et sic oportet quod subiectum talis affirmationis sit vel nomen, vel nomen infinitum.  Deinde cum dicit: nomen autem etc., exponit quod dixerat, et dicit quod supra dictum est quid sit nomen, et quid sit innominatum, idest infinitum nomen: quia, non homo, non est nomen, sed est infinitum nomen, sicut, non currit, non est verbum, sed infinitum verbum. Interponit autem quoddam, quod valet ad dubitationis remotionem, videlicet quod nomen infinitum quodam modo significat unum. Non enim significat simpliciter unum, sicut nomen finitum, quod significat unam formam generis vel speciei aut etiam individui, sed in quantum significat negationem formæ alicuius, in qua negatione multa conveniunt, sicut in quodam uno secundum rationem. Unum enim eodem modo dicitur aliquid, sicut et ens; unde sicut ipsum non ens dicitur ens, non quidem simpliciter, sed secundum quid, idest secundum rationem, ut patet in IV metaphysicæ, ita etiam negatio est unum secundum quid, scilicet secundum rationem. Introducit autem hoc, ne aliquis dicat quod affirmatio, in qua subiicitur nomen infinitum, non significet unum de uno, quasi nomen infinitum non significet unum.  Deinde cum dicit: erit omnis affirmatio etc., concludit propositum scilicet quod duplex est modus affirmationis. Quædam enim est affirmatio, quæ constat ex nomine et verbo; quædam autem est quæ constat ex infinito nomine et verbo. Et hoc sequitur ex hoc quod supra dictum est quod hoc, de quo affirmatio aliquid significat, vel est nomen vel innominatum. Et eadem differentia potest accipi ex parte negationis, quia de quocunque contingit affirmare, contingit et negare, ut in primo habitum est.  Deinde cum dicit: præter verbum etc., ostendit quod differentia enunciationum non potest sumi ex parte verbi. Dictum est enim supra quod, præter verbum nulla est affirmatio vel negatio. Potest enim præter nomen esse aliqua affirmatio vel negatio, videlicet si ponatur loco nominis infinitum nomen: loco autem verbi in enunciatione non potest poni infinitum verbum, duplici ratione. Primo quidem, quia infinitum verbum constituitur per additionem infinitæ particulæ, quæ quidem addita verbo per se dicto, idest extra enunciationem posito, removet ipsum absolute, sicut addita nomini, removet formam nominis absolute: et ideo extra enunciationem potest accipi verbum infinitum per modum unius dictionis, sicut et nomen infinitum. Sed quando negatio additur verbo in enunciatione posito, negatio illa removet verbum ab aliquo, et sic facit enunciationem negativam: quod non accidit ex parte nominis. Non enim enunciatio efficitur negativa nisi per hoc quod negatur compositio, quæ importatur in verbo: et ideo verbum infinitum in enunciatione positum fit verbum negativum. Secundo, quia in nullo variatur veritas enunciationis, sive utamur negativa particula ut infinitante verbum vel ut faciente negativam enunciationem; et ideo accipitur semper in simpliciori intellectu, prout est magis in promptu. Et inde est quod non diversificavit affirmationem per hoc, quod sit ex verbo vel infinito verbo, sicut diversificavit per hoc, quod est ex nomine vel infinito nomine. Est autem considerandum quod in nominibus et in verbis præter differentiam finiti et infiniti est differentia recti et obliqui. Casus enim nominum, etiam verbo addito, non constituunt enunciationem significantem verum vel falsum, ut in primo habitum est: quia in obliquo nomine non concluditur ipse rectus, sed in casibus verbi includitur ipsum verbum præsentis temporis. Præteritum enim et futurum, quæ significant casus verbi, dicuntur per respectum ad præsens. Unde si dicatur, hoc erit, idem est ac si diceretur, hoc est futurum; hoc fuit, hoc est præteritum. Et propter hoc, ex casu verbi et nomine fit enunciatio. Et ideo subiungit quod sive dicatur est, sive erit, sive fuit, vel quæcumque alia huiusmodi verba, sunt de numero prædictorum verborum, sine quibus non potest fieri enunciatio: quia omnia consignificant tempus, et alia tempora dicuntur per respectum ad præsens.  Deinde cum dicit: quare prima erit affirmatio etc., concludit ex præmissis distinctionem enunciationum in quibus nomen finitum vel infinitum ponitur solum ex parte subiecti, in quibus triplex differentia intelligi potest: una quidem, secundum affirmationem et negationem; alia, secundum subiectum finitum et infinitum; tertia, secundum subiectum universaliter, vel non universaliter positum. Nomen autem finitum est ratione prius infinito sicut affirmatio prior est negatione; unde primam affirmationem ponit, homo est, et primam negationem, homo non est. Deinde ponit secundam affirmationem, non homo est, secundam autem negationem, non homo non est. Ulterius autem ponit illas enunciationes in quibus subiectum universaliter ponitur, quæ sunt quatuor, sicut et illæ in quibus est subiectum non universaliter positum. Prætermisit autem ponere exemplum de enunciationibus, in quibus subiicitur singulare, ut, Socrates est, Socrates non est, quia singularibus nominibus non additur aliquod signum. Unde in huiusmodi enunciationibus non potest omnis differentia inveniri. Similiter etiam prætermittit exemplificare de enunciationibus, quarum subiecta particulariter ponuntur, quia tale subiectum quodammodo eamdem vim habet cum subiecto universali, non universaliter sumpto. Non ponit autem aliquam differentiam ex parte verbi, quæ posset sumi secundum casus verbi, quia sicut ipse dicit, in extrinsecis temporibus, idest in præterito et in futuro, quæ circumstant præsens, est eadem ratio sicut et in præsenti, ut iam dictum est. Postquam philosophus distinxit enunciationes, in quibus nomen finitum vel infinitum ponitur solum ex parte subiecti, hic accedit ad distinguendum illas enunciationes, in quibus nomen finitum vel infinitum ponitur ex parte subiecti et ex parte prædicati. Et circa hoc duo facit; primo, distinguit huiusmodi enunciationes; secundo, manifestat quædam quæ circa eas dubia esse possent; ibi: quoniam vero contraria est et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, agit de enunciationibus in quibus nomen prædicatur cum hoc verbo, est; secundo de enunciationibus in quibus alia verba ponuntur; ibi: in his vero in quibus et cetera. Distinguit autem huiusmodi enunciationes sicut et primas, secundum triplicem differentiam ex parte subiecti consideratam: primo namque, agit de enunciationibus in quibus subiicitur nomen finitum non universaliter sumptum; secundo de illis in quibus subiicitur nomen finitum universaliter sumptum; ibi: similiter autem se habent etc.; tertio, de illis in quibus subiicitur nomen infinitum; ibi: aliæ autem habent ad id quod est non homo et cetera. Circa primum tria facit: primo, proponit diversitatem oppositionis talium enunciationum; secundo, concludit earum numerum et ponit earum habitudinem; ibi: quare quatuor etc.; tertio, exemplificat; ibi: intelligimus vero et cetera. Circa primum duo facit: primo, proponit quod intendit; secundo, exponit quoddam quod dixerat; ibi: dico autem et cetera. Circa primum duo oportet intelligere: primo quidem, quid est hoc quod dicit, est tertium adiacens prædicatur. Ad cuius evidentiam considerandum est quod hoc verbum est quandoque in enunciatione prædicatur secundum se; ut cum dicitur, Socrates est: per quod nihil aliud intendimus significare, quam quod Socrates sit in rerum natura. Quandoque vero non prædicatur per se, quasi principale prædicatum, sed quasi coniunctum principali prædicato ad connectendum ipsum subiecto; sicut cum dicitur, Socrates est albus, non est intentio loquentis ut asserat Socratem esse in rerum natura, sed ut attribuat ei albedinem mediante hoc verbo, est; et ideo in talibus, est, prædicatur ut adiacens principali prædicato. Et dicitur esse tertium, non quia sit tertium prædicatum, sed quia est tertia dictio posita in enunciatione, quæ simul cum nomine prædicato facit unum prædicatum, ut sic enunciatio dividatur in duas partes et non in tres.  Secundo, considerandum est quid est hoc, quod dicit quod quando est, eo modo quo dictum est, tertium adiacens prædicatur, dupliciter dicuntur oppositiones. Circa quod considerandum est quod in præmissis enunciationibus, in quibus nomen ponebatur solum ex parte subiecti, secundum quodlibet subiectum erat una oppositio; puta si subiectum erat nomen finitum non universaliter sumptum, erat sola una oppositio, scilicet est homo, non est homo. Sed quando est tertium adiacens prædicatur, oportet esse duas oppositiones eodem subiecto existente secundum differentiam nominis prædicati, quod potest esse finitum vel infinitum; sicut hæc est una oppositio, homo est iustus, homo non est iustus: alia vero oppositio est, homo est non iustus, homo non est non iustus. Non enim negatio fit nisi per appositionem negativæ particulæ ad hoc verbum est, quod est nota prædicationis.  Deinde cum dicit: dico autem, ut est iustus etc., exponit quod dixerat, est tertium adiacens, et dicit quod cum dicitur, homo est iustus, hoc verbum est, adiacet, scilicet prædicato, tamquam tertium nomen vel verbum in affirmatione. Potest enim ipsum est, dici nomen, prout quælibet dictio nomen dicitur, et sic est tertium nomen, idest tertia dictio. Sed quia secundum communem usum loquendi, dictio significans tempus magis dicitur verbum quam nomen, propter hoc addit, vel verbum, quasi dicat, ad hoc quod sit tertium, non refert utrum dicatur nomen vel verbum.  Deinde cum dicit: quare quatuor erunt etc., concludit numerum enunciationum. Et primo, ponit conclusionem numeri; secundo, ponit earum habitudinem; ibi: quarum duæ quidem etc.; tertio, rationem numeri explicat; ibi: dico autem quoniam est et cetera. Dicit ergo primo quod quia duæ sunt oppositiones, quando est tertium adiacens prædicatur, cum omnis oppositio sit inter duas enunciationes, consequens est quod sint quatuor enunciationes illæ in quibus est, tertium adiacens, prædicatur, subiecto finito non universaliter sumpto. Deinde cum dicit: quarum duæ quidem etc., ostendit habitudinem prædictarum enunciationum ad invicem; et dicit quod duæ dictarum enunciationum se habent ad affirmationem et negationem secundum consequentiam, sive secundum correlationem, aut analogiam, ut in Græco habetur, sicut privationes; aliæ vero duæ minime. Quod quia breviter et obscure dictum est, diversimode a diversis expositum est.  Ad cuius evidentiam considerandum est quod tripliciter nomen potest prædicari in huiusmodi enunciationibus. Quandoque enim prædicatur nomen finitum, secundum quod assumuntur duæ enunciationes, una affirmativa et altera negativa, scilicet homo est iustus, et homo non est iustus; quæ dicuntur simplices. Quandoque vero prædicatur nomen infinitum, secundum quod etiam assumuntur duæ aliæ, scilicet homo est non iustus, homo non est non iustus; quæ dicuntur infinitæ. Quandoque vero prædicatur nomen privativum, secundum quod etiam sumuntur duæ aliæ, scilicet homo est iniustus, homo non est iniustus; quæ dicuntur privativæ. Quidam ergo sic exposuerunt, quod duæ enunciationes earum, quas præmiserat scilicet illæ, quæ sunt de infinito prædicato, se habent ad affirmationem et negationem, quæ sunt de prædicato finito secundum consequentiam vel analogiam, sicut privationes, idest sicut illæ, quæ sunt de prædicato privativo. Illæ enim duæ, quæ sunt de prædicato infinito, se habent secundum consequentiam ad illas, quæ sunt de finito prædicato secundum transpositionem quandam, scilicet affirmatio ad negationem et negatio ad affirmationem. Nam homo est non iustus, quæ est affirmatio de infinito prædicato, respondet secundum consequentiam negativæ de prædicato finito, huic scilicet homo non est iustus. Negativa vero de infinito prædicato, scilicet homo non est non iustus, affirmativæ de finito prædicato, huic scilicet homo est iustus. Propter quod Theophrastus vocabat eas, quæ sunt de infinito prædicato, transpositas. Et similiter etiam affirmativa de privativo prædicato respondet secundum consequentiam negativæ de finito prædicato, scilicet hæc, homo est iniustus, ei quæ est, homo non est iustus. Negativa vero affirmativæ, scilicet hæc, homo non est iniustus, ei quæ est, homo est iustus. Disponatur ergo in figura. Et in prima quidem linea ponantur illæ, quæ sunt de finito prædicato, scilicet homo est iustus, homo non est iustus. In secunda autem linea, negativa de infinito prædicato sub affirmativa de finito et affirmativa sub negativa. In tertia vero, negativa de privativo prædicato similiter sub affirmativa de finito et affirmativa sub negativa: ut patet in subscripta figura.Sic ergo duæ, scilicet quæ sunt de infinito prædicato, se habent ad affirmationem et negationem de finito prædicato, sicut privationes, idest sicut illæ quæ sunt de privativo prædicato. Sed duæ aliæ quæ sunt de infinito subiecto, scilicet non homo est iustus, non homo non est iustus, manifestum est quod non habent similem consequentiam. Et hoc modo exposuit herminus hoc quod dicitur, duæ vero, minime, referens hoc ad illas quæ sunt de infinito subiecto. Sed hoc manifeste est contra litteram. Nam cum præmisisset quatuor enunciationes, duas scilicet de finito prædicato et duas de infinito, subiungit quasi illas subdividens, quarum duæ quidem et cetera. Duæ vero, minime; ubi datur intelligi quod utræque duæ intelligantur in præmissis. Illæ autem quæ sunt de infinito subiecto non includuntur in præmissis, sed de his postea dicetur. Unde manifestum est quod de eis nunc non loquitur.  Et ideo, ut Ammonius dicit, alii aliter exposuerunt, dicentes quod prædictarum quatuor propositionum duæ, scilicet quæ sunt de infinito prædicato, sic se habent ad affirmationem et negationem, idest ad ipsam speciem affirmationis et negationis, ut privationes, idest ut privativæ affirmationes seu negationes. Hæc enim affirmatio, homo est non iustus, non est simpliciter affirmatio, sed secundum quid, quasi secundum privationem affirmatio; sicut homo mortuus non est homo simpliciter, sed secundum privationem; et idem dicendum est de negativa, quæ est de infinito prædicato. Duæ vero, quæ sunt de finito prædicato, non se habent ad speciem affirmationis et negationis secundum privationem, sed simpliciter. Hæc enim, homo est iustus, est simpliciter affirmativa, et hæc, homo non est iustus, est simpliciter negativa. Sed nec hic sensus convenit verbis Aristotelis. Dicit enim infra: hæc igitur quemadmodum in resolutoriis dictum est, sic sunt disposita; ubi nihil invenitur ad hunc sensum pertinens. Et ideo Ammonius ex his, quæ in fine I priorum dicuntur de propositionibus, quæ sunt de finito vel infinito vel privativo prædicato, alium sensum accipit. Ad cuius evidentiam considerandum est quod, sicut ipse dicit, enunciatio aliqua virtute se habet ad illud, de quo totum id quod in enunciatione significatur vere prædicari potest: sicut hæc enunciatio, homo est iustus, se habet ad omnia illa, de quorum quolibet vere potest dici quod est homo iustus; et similiter hæc enunciatio, homo non est iustus, se habet ad omnia illa, de quorum quolibet vere dici potest quod non est homo iustus. Secundum ergo hunc modum loquendi, manifestum est quod simplex negativa in plus est quam affirmativa infinita, quæ ei correspondet. Nam, quod sit homo non iustus, vere potest dici de quolibet homine, qui non habet habitum iustitiæ; sed quod non sit homo iustus, potest dici non solum de homine non habente habitum iustitiæ, sed etiam de eo qui penitus non est homo: hæc enim est vera, lignum non est homo iustus; tamen hæc est falsa, lignum est homo non iustus. Et ita negativa simplex est in plus quam affirmativa infinita; sicut etiam animal est in plus quam homo, quia de pluribus verificatur. Simili etiam ratione, negativa simplex est in plus quam affirmativa privativa: quia de eo quod non est homo non potest dici quod sit homo iniustus. Sed affirmativa infinita est in plus quam affirmativa privativa: potest enim dici de puero et de quocumque homine nondum habente habitum virtutis aut vitii quod sit homo non iustus, non tamen de aliquo eorum vere dici potest quod sit homo iniustus. Affirmativa vero simplex in minus est quam negativa infinita: quia quod non sit homo non iustus potest dici non solum de homine iusto, sed etiam de eo quod penitus non est homo. Similiter etiam negativa privativa in plus est quam negativa infinita. Nam, quod non sit homo iniustus, potest dici non solum de homine habente habitum iustitiæ, sed de eo quod penitus non est homo, de quorum quolibet potest dici quod non sit homo non iustus: sed ulterius potest dici de omnibus hominibus, qui nec habent habitum iustitiæ neque habent habitum iniustitiæ.  His igitur visis, facile est exponere præsentem litteram hoc modo. Quarum, scilicet quatuor enunciationum prædictarum, duæ quidem, scilicet infinitæ, se habebunt ad affirmationem et negationem, idest ad duas simplices, quarum una est affirmativa et altera negativa, secundum consequentiam, idest in modo consequendi ad eas, ut privationes, idest sicut duæ privativæ: quia scilicet, sicut ad simplicem affirmativam sequitur negativa infinita, et non convertitur (eo quod negativa infinita est in plus), ita etiam ad simplicem affirmativam sequitur negativa privativa, quæ est in plus, et non convertitur. Sed sicut simplex negativa sequitur ad infinitam affirmativam; quæ est in minus, et non convertitur; ita etiam negativa simplex sequitur ad privativam affirmativam, quæ est in minus, et non convertitur. Ex quo patet quod eadem est habitudo in consequendo infinitarum ad simplices quæ est etiam privativarum.  Sequitur, duæ autem, scilicet simplices, quæ relinquuntur, remotis duabus, scilicet infinitis, a quatuor præmissis, minime, idest non ita se habent ad infinitas in consequendo, sicut privativæ se habent ad eas; quia videlicet, ex una parte simplex affirmativa est in minus quam negativa infinita, sed negativa privativa est in plus quam negativa infinita: ex alia vero parte, negativa simplex est in plus quam affirmativa infinita, sed affirmativa privativa est in minus quam infinita affirmativa. Sic ergo patet quod simplices non ita se habent ad infinitas in consequendo, sicut privativæ se habent ad infinitas. Quamvis autem secundum hoc littera philosophi subtiliter exponatur, tamen videtur esse aliquantulum expositio extorta. Nam littera philosophi videtur sonare diversas habitudines non esse attendendas respectu diversorum; sicut in prædicta expositione primo accipitur similitudo habitudinis ad simplices, et postea dissimilitudo habitudinis respectu infinitarum. Et ideo simplicior et magis conveniens litteræ Aristotelis est expositio Porphyrii quam Boethius ponit; secundum quam expositionem attenditur similitudo et dissimilitudo secundum consequentiam affirmativarum ad negativas. Unde dicit: quarum, scilicet quatuor præmissarum, duæ quidem, scilicet affirmativæ, quarum una est simplex et alia infinita, se habebunt secundum consequentiam ad affirmationem et negationem; ut scilicet ad unam affirmativam sequatur alterius negativa. Nam ad affirmativam simplicem sequitur negativa infinita; et ad affirmativam infinitam sequitur negativa simplex. Duæ vero, scilicet negativæ, minime, idest non ita se habent ad affirmativas, ut scilicet ex negativis sequantur affirmativæ, sicut ex affirmativis sequebantur negativæ. Et quantum ad utrumque similiter se habent privativæ sicut infinitæ.  Deinde cum dicit: dico autem quoniam etc., manifestat quoddam quod supra dixerat, scilicet quod sint quatuor prædictæ enunciationes: loquimur enim nunc de enunciationibus, in quibus hoc verbum est solum prædicatur secundum quod est adiacens alicui nomini finito vel infinito: puta secundum quod adiacet iusto; ut cum dicitur, homo est iustus, vel secundum quod adiacet non iusto; ut cum dicitur, homo est non iustus. Et quia in neutra harum negatio apponitur ad verbum, consequens est quod utraque sit affirmativa. Omni autem affirmationi opponitur negatio, ut supra in primo ostensum est. Relinquitur ergo quod prædictis duabus enunciationibus affirmativis respondet duæ aliæ negativæ. Et sic consequens est quod sint quatuor simplices enunciationes. Deinde cum dicit: intelligimus vero etc., manifestat quod supra dictum est per quandam figuralem descriptionem. Dicit enim quod id, quod in supradictis dictum est, intelligi potest ex sequenti subscriptione. Sit enim quædam quadrata figura, in cuius uno angulo describatur hæc enunciatio, homo est iustus, et ex opposito describatur eius negatio quæ est, homo non est iustus; sub quibus scribantur duæ aliæ infinitæ, scilicet homo est non iustus, homo non est non iustus. In qua descriptione apparet quod hoc verbum est, affirmativum vel negativum, adiacet iusto et non iusto. Et secundum hoc diversificantur quatuor enunciationes.  Ultimo autem concludit quod prædictæ enunciationes disponuntur secundum ordinem consequentiæ, prout dictum est in resolutoriis, idest in I priorum. Alia littera habet: dico autem, quoniam est aut homini aut non homini adiacebit, et in figura, est, hoc loco homini et non homini adiacebit. Quod quidem non est intelligendum, ut homo, et non homo accipiatur ex parte subiecti, non enim nunc agitur de enunciationibus quæ sunt de infinito subiecto. Unde oportet quod homo et non homo accipiantur ex parte prædicati. Sed quia philosophus exemplificat de enunciationibus in quibus ex parte prædicati ponitur iustum et non iustum, visum est Alexandro, quod prædicta littera sit corrupta. Quibusdam aliis videtur quod possit sustineri et quod signanter Aristoteles nomina in exemplis variaverit, ut ostenderet quod non differt in quibuscunque nominibus ponantur exempla. BOEZIO. COMMENTARII in LIBRUM ARISTOTELIS IIEPI EPMHNEIAS RECENSUIT CAROLUS MEISER. PARS POSTERIOR SECUNDAM EDITIONEM ET INDICES CONTINENS. CHE T HILLr L,v-LIPSIÆ IN ÆDIBUS B. G. TEUBNERI. LIPSIÆ: B. G. TETJBNERI. In secundæ editionis textu recensendo lii libri manu scripti mihi præsto fuerunt: S codex (Salisb. 10) bibliothecæ Palatinæ Vindobonensis (Endlicheri) qui continet f. 1  8V versionem continue scriptam libri Aristotelici itEQi EQiirjvecag, quam littera 2J signavi, deinde f. 9  176v sex libros Boetii commentariorum. F codex Frisingensis Monacensis  s. XI  et   X:  vetustior  manus  s.  X  incipit  a  f.   (editionis  Basileensis  = nostræ editionis). T codex (Tegernseensis) Monacensis, qui f. 1 56v priorem editionem expositionis BOEZIO, f. 57v 65v versionem continuam, quam 1. % signavi, f. 66v191 secundam editionem complectitur. E  codex  (Ratisb.  S.  Emm.  582)  Monacensis  14582  s. XI. Præter hos quattuor codices, quorum plenam  scripturæ discrepantiam studio legentium proposui, hi quattuor alii libri a  mehic aut illic inspecti et difficilioribus locis excussi sunt: X codex Einsidlensis  301 s. X, in quo non pauca desiderantur: nam desunt, 17  huius  editionis  conposita sit possibile non necessarium, postremo  desinit  in  verba  de  contingenti  et  de  possi  (sic),  ut  finis  quinti  et  sextus  liber  totus  perierit. J codex Einsidlensis PRÆFATIO. G  codex  Sangallensis  830  s.  XI.   B  codex  Bernensis,  in  quo desunt p. 383, 1  ut  in  eo et  dicit. Hos omnes  codices  ex  uno  eodemque  fonte  fluxisse  inde  apparet,  quod  eædem  in  omnibus  lacunæ,  eædem  interpolationes,  eadem  vitiorum  genera  deprehenduntur,  et  de  lacunis  quidem  conferas præterea de interpolationibus autem iisdem vero cunctos vitiis foedatos esse ut demonstrem, satis erit  unum  aut  alterum  ex  plurimis  passim  obviis  proferre  exemplum,  nam  et  p.  361,  ubi  Peripatetica  interrogationis  divisio  proditur,  cum  in  codicibus  nostris  v.  8  sqq.  legatur:  'non dialecticæ autem interrogationis duæ sunt species, sicut audivimus docet 5, manifestum est pro vocabulo corrupto audivimus 5 Eu de mus restituendum fuisse,  23 quin recte scripserim: ad tenacioris memoriæ subsidium 5, cum codices inperversa scritione  t  elatior is consentiant, quis est qui dubitet? confer præterea locum illum in omnibus æqualiter libris turbatum. Pro fundamento autem textus constituendi codicem S habui,  omnium longe præstantissimum, qui non raro ceteris fidelius veræ scripturæ vestigia servaverit, confer e. c. ubi huius codicis lectio a bonum 5 propius ad verum ad unum 5 accedit quam reliquorum ad bonum 5, hoc unum dolendum est, quod a correctore quodam, quamquam multa emendata sunt, tamen ipsis locis difficillimis ita rasuris depravatus est, ut quid primitus in eo scriptum fuerit sæpe dinosci non possit, nec tamen multum  interest, cum propter similitudinem ceterorum codicum fere semper quid S habuerit ex aliis suspicari liceat. V Codici S plerumque consentit F, nisi quod in hoc librarius interdum pravo varietatis studio et verba transposuisse et pro solitis rariora vocabula inculcasse videtur, nam cum hic codex  p. 395, 20 pro voce  Socratem mire elimannum posueri, quod aperte falsum est, iure in dubium vocari potest, num recte aliis locis hunc codicem solum contra ceterorum consensum secutus sim. quare hos locos notare velim et quid F habeat, quid ceteri adscribam:  F ceterip.  ,  21 autumant putant itidem similiter infit  dicit   , 1 potiores meliores   246,  20  itidem similiter. Ad S et  F libros optimos proxime accedit  E, et ipse optimæ notæ idemque  pulcherrime  et  diligentissime  scriptus,  a  secunda  manu  et  in  S  (=  S2)  et  in  E  (=  E2),  rarius  in  F  (=  F2)  multa egregie sunt emendata. N J G et ipsi in optimis numerandi sunt et intima cognation cum  S  F  E  coniuncti,  sed vix quidquam novi ex iis elicitur, quod non in ceteris reperiatur.  Minus fidei codici  T tribuendum  est, quippe qui fere semper cum secunda manu codicis G  (=  G2)  consentiat,  ut quæ  in  G  supra  lineam  vel  in  margine  leguntur  in  T  in  textum  irrepserint,  quare  nec  interpolationibus  vacat  et  variæ  lectiones  promiscue  iuxta  positæ  inveniuntur,  sunt  tamen  quæ  in  hoc  codice  melius  quam  in  ceteris  servata  videantur. Minimæ  auctoritatis  et  omnium  deterrimus  est  codex  B  (plerumque  =  E2),  qui  pauca  emendavit,  plurima  demendo  addendo  mutando  turbavit  ac  miscuit.   Ut  in  prima,  sic  in  secunda  editione  lemmata  non  plenum  Aristotelis  textum  exhibent,  sed  pauciora  in  secunda  editione  desiderantur,  quorum  quædam  in  E   Boetii  comment.  II.  a**VI PRÆFATIO. a  secunda  manu  in  margine  et  in  B  sunt  addita,  ceteram  B  sæpius  prima  tantum  et  postrema  Aristotelis  verba  expositioni  BOEZIO præmittit,  quæ  vocula  'usque5  (vel  'reliqua  usque5)  iunguntur. De versione BOZIO ana libri Aristoteliei  Ttegi  eQ[ir}-  vaiccg eiusque a nostro Aristotelis textu discrepantia in Fleckeiseni annal. vol. CXVII . 247   253  disputavi.   Monachii  mense  Martio  a.  MDCCCLXXX.    Car.  Meiser. Boezio. IH LIBRVM ARISTOTELIS nEPI EPMHNEIAS  COMMENTARII. SECVNDA EDITIO. BOEZIO (vedasi) comment.  S = codex (Salisb. n. 10) Vindobonensis n. 80.  ( E   præmissa  translatio).  F  =  codex  Frisingensis Monacensis  T  =  codex  (Tegernseensis)  Monacensis  (X  =  præmissa  translatio).   E  =  codex  (Ratisb.  S.  Emm.  n.  582)  Monacensis  n.  14582.  N  = codex  Einsidlensis .  J  =  codex  Einsidlensis   G  =  codex  Sangallensis.  B  =  codex  Bernensis b  =  editio  Basileensis BOEZIO COMMENTARIORVM  IN  LIBRVM  ARISTOTELIS  IIEPI  EPMHNEIA2 SECVNDÆ  EDITIONIS LIBER PRIMYS. Alexander in commentariis suis hac se inpulsum causa pronuntiat sumpsisse longissimum expositionis laborem, quod in multis ille a priorum scriptorum sententiis dissideret: mihi maior persequendi operis  causa est, quod non facile quisquam vel transferendi vel etiam commentandi continuam sumpserit seriem, nisi  quod Vetius Prætextatus priores  BOEZIO VIRI ILLVSTRIS EX CONSVLV ORDINE  (CONS  ORD F) IN PERIERMENIAS ARISTOTOLIS (ARESTOTELIS F) EDITIONIS SECVNDÆ  LIBER I INCIPIT. SF  A-M-S-B-  SECVNDA ÆDITIO  IN LIBRVM PERI HERMENIAS INCIPIT. GT  BOEZIO VIRI  ILL ÆDITIONIS  SCDÆ  IN PERIERMENIAS  ARIST-  LIB  I INCIPIT.  J  BOEZIO VIRI CLARISSIMI ET ILLVSTRIS EX CONSVLARI ORDINE  PATRICII SCDÆ EDITIONIS  EXPO SITIONV IN ARISTOTELIS PERIHERMENIAS INCIPIT  LIBER I  E titulum om. NB  1 Alexander  longissimum  om. N 2 longissimg  T 4  dissidet  F 6  etiam  om.  F  1*  ed.Bas   SECVNDA  EDITIO postremosque  analyticos non vertendo Aristotelem LATINO SERMONE tradidit, sed transferendo Themistium, quod qui utrosque legit facile intellegit. ALBINO quoque de isdem rebus  scripsisse perhibetur, cuius ego geometricos quidem libros editos scio, de  DIALECTICA uero diu multumque  quæsitos reperire non valui, sive igitur ille omnino tacuit, nos prætermissa dicemus, sive aliquid scripsit, nos  quoque docti viri imitati studium in eadem laude versabimur. sed quamquam multa sint Aristotelis, quæ SUBTILISSIMA PHILOSOPHIÆ arte celata sint, hic tamen ante omnia liber nimis et acumine sententiarum et verborum brevitate constrictus est.  quocirca plus hic quam in X prædicamentis expositione sudabitur. Prius igitur quid  VOX sit definiendum est. hoc enim perspicuo et manifesto omnis libri patefiet intentio. VOX est æris per linguam percussio, quæ per quasdam gutturis partes, quæ arteriæ vocantur, ab animali profertur,  sunt enim quidam alii  SONI,  qui eodem perficiuntur flatu, quos lingua non percutit, ut est tussis, hæc enim flatu fit quodam per arterias egrediente, sed nulla linguæ inpressione formatur atque ideo nec ullis subiacet elementis, scribi enim nullo modo potest, quocirca vox hæc non dicitur, sed tantum sonus, illa quoque potest esse definitio vocis, ut eam dicamus SONUM esse cum quadam imaginatione SIGNIFICAND, vox namque cum emittitur, SIGNIFICATIONIS alicuius causa profertur,  tussis  vero cum sonus sit, nullius SIGNIFICATIONIS causa  subrepit  3 Qu§ qui  T 4  eisdem E 5  ergo  T  6  repp.   sic  semper  codices  7  omnino  ille  T  12  nimis  tacumine  T    omnis  om.  F    intentio  de  voce  SG-J  et  in  marg.  T  definitio  vocis  E  diff  vocis  F2  19  guturis  F    alicuius     SIGNIFICATIONIS  G2  in  marg.  tusis  F  30  subripit  S  surripit  GT    I. 5 potius quam profertur, quare quoniam noster flatus ita sese habet, ut si ita percutitur atque formatur, ut eum lingua percutiat, vox sit: si ita percutiat, ut terminato quodam et circumscripto sono vox exeat, LOCUTIO fit quæ Græce dicitur  Xs%ig. locutio enim est ARTICULATA VOX  (neque enim hunc sermonem id est  Xe%iv  dictionem  dicemus, idcirco quod  cpccGiv  dictionem  interpretamur,  Xi%iv  vero locutionem),  cuius  locutionis  partes  sunt litteræ,  quæ cum iunctæ fuerint, unam efficiunt vocem coniunctam conpositamque, quæ locutio prædicatur. sive autem aliquid quæcumque vox SIGNIFICET,  ut  est  hic  sermo  “homo”,  sive omnino nihil, sive positum alicui nomen SIGNIFICARE possit,  ut  est  “HLITYRI” (hæc enim vox per se cum  nihil SIGNIFICET, posita tamen ut alicui nomen  sit  SIGNIFICABIT),  sive per se quidem nihil SIGNIFICET, cum aliis vero iuncta designet, ut sunt coniunctiones:  hæc omnia locutiones vocantur, ut sit propria locutionis forma vox conposita quæ litteris describatur, ut igitur sit  locutio, voce opus est id est eo sono quem percutit lingua, ut et vox ipsa sit per linguam determinata in eum sonum qui inscribi litteris possit, sed ut hæc locutio SIGNIFICATIVA  sit,  illud quoque addi oportet, ut sit aliqua  significandi imaginatio, per quam id quod in voce vel in locutione est proferatur: ut certe ita dicendum sit: si  in  hoc flatu, quem per arterias emittimus, sit linguæ sola percussio, vox est; sin vero talis percussio sit, ut in litteras  redigat sonum, locutio; quod si vis quoque quædam imaginationis  adda-   1 quoniam  dei. S2  om.  F  2  percutitur  atque  formatur  g2p2g2g.  percuti  atq.  formari  SFEN,  percuti  atq.  formari  possit  T  (possit  supra  lin.  GJ)  ut  cu  eu  B  3  sit]  est  STGNJ  ( corr.  S2)  5  fit]  sit  S2FE2  lexis  codices,  item     et  8  lexin,  7  phasin  9  literæ  in  marg.  S  quæ  coniunctæ  S,  corr.  S2  13  alicuius  SF  14  blythyri  SG  blithyri  NT  blytbiri  EF?  {in  fine  suprascr.  s  F)  21  et  ut  b  22  scribi?  28  fit  T tur,  illa  SIGNIFICATIVA vox redditur. concurrentibus igitur  his  tribus: linguæ percussione, articulato vocis sonitu, imaginatione aliqua  proferendi fit interpretatio,  interpretatio namque est vox articulata per se ipsam 5  SIGNIFICANS, quocirca non omnis vox interpretatio est. sunt  enim ceterorum animalium voces, quæ interpretationis vocabulo non tenentur, nec omnis locutio interpretatio est,  idcirco quod  (ut dictum est) sunt locutiones quædam,  quæ significatione careant et cum per se quædam non  significent, iunctæ tamen cum aliis significant, ut coniunctiones. interpretatio autem in solis per  se significativis et articulatis vocibus permanet. quare convertitur, ut quidquid sit interpretatio, illud  significet,  quidquid significat, interpretationis vocabulo nuncupetur, unde etiam ipse quoque Aristoteles in libris quos  de poetica scripsit locutionis partes esse syllabas vel etiam coniunctiones tradidit, quarum syllabæ in eo quod sunt syllabæ nihil omnino significant, coniunctiones vero consignificare quidem possunt, PER SE VERO NIHIL DESIGNANT,  interpretationis vero partes hoc libro constituit nomen et verbum, quæ scilicet per se ipsa SIGNIFICANT,  nihilo minus quoque orationem, quæ et ipsa cum vox sit ex significativis partibus iuncta significatione non caret quare quoniam non de oratione sola, sed etiam de verbo et nomine, nec vero de sola locutione, sed etiam de SIGNIFICATIVA  locutione, quæ est interpretatio, hoc libro ab Aristotele tractatur,  id circo quoniam in  16 Ar. Poet. c.  20.    1 significatiua  b:  significatio  SG-TE,  significatione  FS1 2E2?  redditur  uox  T  4  interpretatio  om.  SNF,  in  marg.  addunt  GE  quæ  namq;  S2F  10  iunctæ  F:  iuncta  ceteri  14  illud  quoq;  E    arte  poetica  S2FE  23  post  orationem  addit  partem  esse  tradidit  S2F  cum  om.  T  28  in  hoc  S2F   ab  om.  T    I. 7    verbis atque nominibus et  in significativis locutionibus nomen interpretationis aptatur, a communi nomine eorum, de quibus hoc  libro  tractabitur,  id  est  ab  interpretatione,  ipse  quoque  de  interpretatione  liber  inscriptus  est.  cuius  expositionem  nos  scilicet  quam  5  maxime  a  Porphyrio  quamquam  etiam  a  ceteris  transferentes  Latina  oratione  digessimus,  hic  enim  nobis  expositor  et  intellectus  acumine  et  sententiarum  dispositione  videtur  excellere,  erunt  ergo  interpretationis  duæ  primæ  partes  nomen  et  verbum,  his  enim  10  quidquid  est  in  animi  intellectibus  designatur;  his  namque  totus  ordo  orationis  efficitur,  et  in  quantum  vox  ipsa  quidem  intellectus  significat,  in  duas  (ut  dictum  est)  secatur  partes,  nomen  et  verbum,  in  quantum  vero  vox  per  intellectuum  medietatem  subiectas  intellectui  res  demonstrat,  significantium  vocum  Aristoteles  numerum  in  X  prædicamenta  partitus  est.  atque  hoc  distat  libri  huius  intentio  a  prædicamentorum  in denariam  multitudinem  numerositate  p.  291  collecta, ut hic quidem tantum de numero SIGNIFICANTIUM vocum quæratur,  quantum  ad  ipsas  attinet  voces,  quibus  significativis  vocibus  intellectus  animi  designentur,  quæ  sunt  scilicet  simplicia  quidem  nomina  et  verba,  ex  his  vero  conpositæ  orationes:  prædicamentorum  vero  hæc  intentio  est:  de  significativis  rerum  vocibus  in  tantum,  quantum  eas  medius  animi  SIGNIFICET  intellectus,  vocis  enim  quædam  qualitas  est  nomen  et  verbum,  quæ  nimirum  ipsa  illa  decem  prædicamenta  significant,  decem  namque  prædicamenta  numquam  sine  aliqua  verbi  qualitate  vel  30  nominis  proferentur,  quare  erit  libri  huius  intentio  de  significativis  vocibus  in  tantum,  quantum  con-   1  in  om.  E  3  in  hoc  S2F  9 dispositio  S  corr.  S2  10 partes  primæ  T  11  intellectus  F  corr.  F1    totius  F  18  in  hoc  T  20  in  tantum?  26  uocibus  tractare  F,  uoc.  dicere  TE, tractare inmarg. S  31proferuntur  S2F  32  signatiuis S  corr. S2 8 SECVNDA  EDITIO ceptiones  animi  intellectus  que  significent,  de  decem  prædicamentis  autem  libri  intentio  in  eius  commentario  dicta  est,  quoniam  sit  de  significativis  rerum  vocibus,  quot  partibus  distribui  possit  earum  signifi-  5  catio  in  tantum,  quantum  per  sensuum  atque  intellectuum  medietatem  res  subiectas  intellectibus  voces  ipsæ  valeant  designare,  in  opere  vero  de  poetica  non  eodem  modo  dividit  locutionem,  sed  omnes  omnino  locutionis  partes  adposuit  confirmans  esse  locu-  10  tionis  partes  elementa,  syllabas,  coniunctiones,  articulos,  nomina,  casus,  verba,  orationes,  locutio  namque  non  in  solis  significativis  vocibus  constat,  sed  supergrediens  significationes  vocum  ad  articulatos  sonos  usque  consistit,  quælibet  enim  syllaba  vel quodlibet  nomen  vel  quælibet  alia  vox,  quæ  scribi  litteris  potest,  locutionis  nomine  continetur,  quæ  Græce  dicitur  sed  non  eodem  modo  interpretatio.  huic  namque  non  est  satis,  ut  sit  huiusmodi  vox  quæ  litteris  valeat  adnotari,  sed  ad  hoc  ut  aliquid  quoque  significet,  prædicamentorum  vero  in  hoc  ratio  constituta  est,  in  quo  hæ  duæ  partes  interpretationis  res  intellectibus  subiectas  designent,  nam  quoniam  decem  res  omnino  in  omni  natura  reperiuntur,  decem  quoque  intellectus  erunt,  quos  intellectus quoniam  verba  nominaque  significant,  decem  omnino  erunt  prædicamenta,  quæ  verbis  atque  nominibus  DESIGNENTUR,  duo vero quædam id est nomen et verbum,  quæ  ipsos  significent  intellectus,  sunt  igitur  elementa  interpretationis  verba  et  nomina,  propriæ  vero  partes  30  quibus  ipsa  constat  interpretatio  sunt  orationes,  orationum  vero  aliæ  sunt  perfectæ,  aliæ  inperfectæ.   7  Ar.  Poet.  c.  .    3  pro  quoniam:  cum  F  4  quod  F  7  arte  poetica  FE2,  arte  in  marg.  S  17  lexis  FTE  31  aliæ  uero  inp.  TE,  aliæ  inperf.  om.  S  in  marg.  addit  S2    I.    9    perfectæ  sunt  ex  quibus  plene  id  quod  dicitur  valet  intellegi,  inperfectæ  in  quibus  aliquid  adhuc  plenius  animus  exspectat  audire,  ut  est  Socrates  cum  Platone.  nullo  enim  addito  orationis  intellectus  pendet  ac  titubat  et  auditor  aliquid  ultra  exspectat  audire,  perfectarum  vero  orationum  partes  quinque  sunt:  deprecativa  ut  Iuppiter  omnipotens,  precibus  si  flecteris  ullis,  Da  deinde  auxilium,  pater,  atque  hæc  omina  firma,  imperativa  ut  Yade  age,  nate,  voca  Zephyros  et  labere  pennis,  interrogativa  ut  Dic  mihi,  Damoeta,  cuium  pecus?  an  Meliboei?  vocativa    0  pater,  o  hominum  rerumque  æterna  potestas,  enuntiativa,  in  qua  veritas  vel  falsitas  invenitur,  ut  Principio  arboribus  varia  est  natura  serendis,  huius  autem  duæ  partes  sunt,  est  namque  et  simplex  oratio  enuntiativa  et  conposita.  simplex  ut  dies  est,  lucet,  conposita  ut  si  dies  est,  lux  est.  in  hoc  igitur  libro LIZIO  de  enuntiativa  simplici  oratione  disputat  et  de  eius  elementis,  nomine  scilicet  atque  verbo,  quæ  quoniam  et  significativa  sunt  et  significativa  vox  articulata  interpretationis  nomine  continetur,  de  communi  (ut  dictum  est)  vocabulo  librum  de  interpretatione  appellavit,  et  Theophrastus  quidem  in  eo  libro,  quem  de  adfirmatione  et  negatione  conposuit,  de  enuntiativa  oratione  tractavit,  et  Stoici  quoque  in  his  libris,  quos  ttsqI  a^tco^uzcov  appellant,  de  isdem   7  Yerg.  Æn.  II  689.  691  9  Yerg.  Æn.  IY  223   11  Yerg.  Ecl.  III  1  12  Yerg.  Æn.  X  18  14  Yerg.   Georg.  II  9    9  omnia  TE  10  pinnis  S^1  11  damgta  T  12   melibei  T  ut  b  :'om.  codices,  alterum  o  om.  SFE1  15   creandis  Vergilii  codices  16  et  om.  E    est  et  conp.  S2FE2  lux  est  F2E2  21  uox  et  art.  S2FE2  27  peri  axiomaton  codices  5 10 15 20 25  nihilominus  disputant,  sed  illi  quidem  et  de  simplici  et  de  non  simplici  oratione  enuntiativa  speculantur,  Aristoteles  vero  hoc  libro  nihil  nisi  de  sola  simplici  enuntiativa  oratione  considerat.  Aspasius  quoque  et  5  Alexander  sicut  in  aliis  Aristotelis  libris  in  hoc  quoque  commentarios  ediderunt,  sed  uterque  Aristotelem  de  oratione  tractasse  pronuntiat,  nam  si  oratione  aliquid  proferre  ut  aiunt  ipsi  interpretari  est,  de  interpretatione  liber  nimirum  veluti  de  oratione  per  scriptus  est,  quasi  vero  sola  oratio  ac  non  verba  quoque  et  nomina  interpretationis  vocabulo  concludantur.  æque  namque  et  oratio  et  verba  ac  nomina,  quæ  sunt  interpretationis  elementa,  nomine  interpretationis  vocantur,  sed  Alexander  addidit  inperfecte  sese  habere  libri  titulum:  neque  enim  designare,  de  qua  oratione  perscripserit,  multæ  namque  ut  dictum  est  sunt  orationes;  sed  adiciendum  vel  subintellegendum  putat  de  oratione  illum  scribere  philosophica  vel  dialectica  id  est,  qua  verum  falsumque  valeat  expediri sed  qui  semel  solam  orationem  interpretationis  nomine  vocari  recipit,  in  intellectu quoque ipsius  inscriptionis  erravit,  cur  enim  putaret  inperfectum  esse  titulum,  quoniam  nihil  de  qua  oratione  disputaret  adiecerit?  ut  si  quis  interrogans  quid  est  homo?  alio respondente  animal  culpet  ac  dicat  inperfecte  illum  dixisse,  quid  sit,  quoniam  non  sit  omnes  differentias  persecutus,  quod  si  huic,  id  est  homini,  sunt  quædam  alia  communia  ad  nomen  animalis,  nihil  tamen  inpedit  perfecte  demonstrasse,  quid  homo  esset,  eum  qui  animal  dixit:  sive  enim  differentias  addat  quis  sive  non,  hominem  animal  esse  necesse  est.  eodem  quoque  modo  et  de  oratione,  si  quis  hoc  concedat  primum,  nihil  aliud  interpretationem  dici  nisi  orationem,   5  alios  libros  in  hunc?  21  recepit?  21.22  scriptionis  S^1  23.  24  adiecit  T  26  non  o.  diff.  sit  E  30  addit   T    interpretatione  F I. 11 cur  qui  de  interpretatione  inscripserit  et  de  qua  interpretatione  dicat  non  addiderit  culpetur,  non  est.  satis  est  enim  libri  titulum  etiam  de  aliqua  continenti  communione  fecisse,  ut  nos  eum  et  de  nominibus  et  verbis  et  de  orationibus,  cum  bæc  omnia  uno  interpretationis  nomine  continerentur,  supra  fecisse  docuimus,  cum  bic  liber  ab  eo  de  interpretatione  notatus  est.  sed  quod  addidit  illam  interpretationem  solam  dici,  qua  in  oratione  possit  veritas  et  falsitas  inveniri,  ut  est  enuntiativa  oratio,  fingentis  est  ut  ait  Porphyrius  significationem  nominis  potius  quam  docentis,  atque  ille  quidem  et  in  intentione  libri  et  in  titulo  falsus  est,  sed  non  eodem  modo  de  iudicio  quoque  libri  buius  erravit.  Andronicus  enim  librum  bunc  Aristotelis  esse  non  puta,quem  Alexander  vere  fortiterque  redarguit,  quem  cum  exactum  diligentemque  Aristotelis  librorum  et  iudicem  et  repertorem  iudicarit  antiquitas,  cur  in  huius  libri  iudicio  sit  falsus,  prorsus  est  magna  admiratione  dignissimum,  non  esse  namque  proprium  Aristotelis  bine  conatur  ostendere,  quoniam  quædam  Aristoteles  in  principio  libri  huius  de  intellectibus  animi  tractat,  quos  intellectus  animæ  passiones  vocavit,  et  de  bis  se  plenius  in  libris  de  anima  disputasse  commemorat,  et  quoniam  passiones  animæ  vocabant  vel  tristitiam  vel  gaudium  vel  cupiditatem  vel  alias  huiusmodi  adfectiones,  dicit  Andronicus  ex  boc  probari  hunc  librum  Aristotelis  non  esse,  quod  de  huiusmodi  adfectionibus  nihil  in  libris  de  anima  tractavisset,  non  intellegens  in  hoc  libro  Aristotelem  passiones  animæ  non  pro  adfectibus,  sed  pro  intellectibus  posuisse,  his  Alexander  multa  alia  addit  argumenta,  cur  hoc  opus  Aristotelis  maxime  esse  videatur,  ea  namque  dicuntur  hic,  quæ  sententiis  Aristotelis  quæ  sunt  de  enuntia-   [5.  6  continentur F 6 cum om. F1 hæc S, corr. S2 10. 11 potius sign. nom. S2F  et animæ T  in supra lin. T  vocabat b  prius pro om. S1 Hic E1 5  12 SECVNDA  EDITIO] tione  consentiant;  illud  quoque,  quod  stilus  ipse  propter  brevitatem  pressior  ab  Aristotelis  obscuritate  non  discrepat;  et  quod  Theophrastus,  ut  in  aliis  solet,  cum  de  similibus  rebus  tractat,  quæ  scilicet  ab  Aristotele  ante  tractata  sunt,  in  libro  quoque  de  adfirmatione  et  negatione,  isdem  aliquibus  verbis  utitur,  quibus  hoc  libro  Aristoteles  usus  est.  idem  quoque  Theophrastus  dat  signum  hunc  esse  Aristotelis  librum:  in  omnibus  enim,  de  quibus  ipse  disputat  post magistrum,  leviter  ea  tangit  quæ  ab  Aristotele  dicta  ante  cognovit,  alias  vero  diligentius  res  non  ab  Aristotele  tractatas  exsequitur,  hic  quoque  idem  fecit,  nam  quæ  Aristoteles  hoc  libro  de  enuntiatione  tractavit,  leviter  ab  illo  transcursa  sunt,  quæ  vero  magister  eius  tacuit,  ipse  subtiliore  modo  considerationis  adiecit.  addit  quoque  hanc  causam,  quoniam  Aristoteles  quidem  de  syllogismis  scribere  animatus  num-  quam  id  recte  facere  potuisset,  nisi  quædam  de  propositionibus  adnotaret.  mihi  quoque  videtur  hoc subtiliter  perpendentibus  liquere  hunc  librum  ad  analyticos  esse  præparatum,  nam  sicut  hic  de  simplici  propositione  disputat,  ita  quoque  in  analyticis  de  simplicibus  tantum  considerat  syllogismis,  ut  ipsa  syllogismorum  propositionumque  simplicitas  non  ad  aliud  nisi  ad  continens opus Aristotelis pertinere videatur, quare non est audiendus Andronicus,  qui propter passionum nomen hunc librum ab Aristotelis  operibus separat. Aristoteles autem idcirco passiones animæ intellectus vocabat, quod intellectus, quos sermone dicere et oratione proferre consuevimus, ex aliqua causa atque utilitate profecti sunt: ut enim dispersi homines colligerentur et legibus vellent esse subiecti civitatesque condere, utilitas quædam fuit  et  causa,  quocirca   3  et  b:  uel  codices  15  subtilior  S1  16  addidit  E  17  pro  scribere:  est  T  19  hoc  uidetur  F  22  in  om.  F1  29  uocauit  E    I  c,  1. 13    quæ  ex  aliqua  utilitate  veniunt,  ex  passione  quoque  provenire  necesse  est.  nam  ut  divina  sine  ulla  sunt  passione,  ita  nulla  illis  extrinsecus  utilitas  valet  adiungi:  quæ  vero  sunt  passibilia  semper  aliquam  causam  atque  utilitatem  quibus  sustententur  inveniunt quocirca  huiusmodi  intellectus,  qui  ad  alterum  oratione  proferendi  sunt,  quoniam  ex  aliqua  causa  atque  utilitate  videntur  esse  collecti,  recte  passiones  animi  nominati  sunt,  et  de  intentione  quidem  et  de  libri  inscriptione  et  de  eo,  quod  hic  maxime  Aristotelis   liber  esse  putandus  est,  hæc  dicta  sufficiunt,  quid  vero  utilitatis  habeat,  non  ignorabit  qui  sciet  qua  in  oratione  veritas  constet  et  falsitas.  in  sola  enim  hæc  enuntiativa  oratione  consistunt,  iam  vero  quæ  dividant  verum  falsumque  quæve  definite  vel  quæ  varie  et  mutabiliter  veritatem  falsitatemque  partiantur,  quæ  iuncta  dici  possint,  cum  separata  valeant  prædicari,  quæ  separata  dicantur,  cum  iuncta  sint  prædicata,  quæ  sint  negationes  cum  modo  propositionum,  quæ  earum  consequentiæ  aliaque  plura  in  ipso  opere  considerator  poterit  diligenter  agnoscere,  quorum  magnam  experietur  utilitatem  qui  animum  curæ  alicuius  investigationis  adverterit,  sed  nunc  ad  ipsius  Aristotelis  verba  veniamus. Primum  oportet  constituer,  quid  nomen  et  quid  verbum,  postea  quid  est  negatio  et  adfirmatio  et  enuntiatio  et  oratio.   Librum  incohans  de  quibus  in  omni  serie  tractaturus  sit  ante  proposuit,  ait  enim  prius  oportere  de    2  sunt  om.  F1  5  inuenient  E  8  animæ?  11  sufficiant  b  16  patiantur  T  16.  17  quæ  iuncta  om.  F,  in  marg.  quæ  iunctim  F2?  17.18  iuncta     cum  om.  S1  20.21   consideratior  SF*T  21  quorum  ego:  quarum  codices  22  curæ  ego:  cura  codices  23  ipsius  om.  F  25  quid  Ar.  xL:  quid  sit  codices  26  sit  uerbum  codices  præter  2/E2  est  om.  2%  {eras,  in  S)    quibus  disputaturus  est  definire,  hic  enim  constituere  definire  intellegendum  est.  determinandum  namque  est  quid  hæc  omnia  sint  id  est  quid  nomen  sit,  quid  verbum  et  cetera,  quæ  elementa  interpretationis  esse prædiximus,  sed  adfirmatio  atque  negatio  sub  interpretatione  sunt,  quare  nomen  et  verbum  adfirmatio-  nis  et  negationis  elementa  esse  manifestum  est.  his  enim  conpositis  adfirmatio  et  negatio  coniunguntur.  exsistit  hic  quædam  quæstio,  cur  duo  tantum  nomen et  verbum  se  determinare  promittat,  cum  plures  partes  orationis  esse  videantur,  quibus  hoc  dicendum  est  tantum  Aristotelem  hoc  libro  definisse,  quantum  illi  ad  id  quod  instituerat  tractare  suffecit,  tractat  namque  de  simplici  enuntiativa  oratione,  quæ  scilicet huiusmodi  est,  ut  iunctis  tantum  verbis  et  nominibus  conponatur.  si  quis  enim  nomen  iungat  et  verbum,  ut  dicat  Socrates  ambulat,  simplicem  fecit  enuntiativam  orationem,  enuntiativa  namque  oratio  est  ut  supra  memoravi  quæ  habet  in  se  falsi  verique designationem,  sed  in  hoc  quod  dicimus  Socrates  ambulat  aut  veritas  necesse  est  contineatur  aut  fal-  sitas.  hoc  enim  si  ambulante  Socrate  dicitur,  verum  est,  si  non  ambulante,  falsum,  perficitur  ergo  enuntiativa  oratio  simplex  ex  solis  verbis  atque  nominibus quare  superfluum  est  quærere,  cur  alias  quoque  quæ  videntur  orationis  partes  non  proposuerit,  qui  non  totius  simpliciter  orationis,  sed  tantum  simplicis  enuntiationis  instituit  elementa  partiri,  quamquam  duæ  propriæ  partes  orationis  esse  dicendæ  sint,  nomen  30  scilicet  atque  verbum,  hæc  enim  per  sese  utraque  significant,  coniunctiones  autem  vel  præpositiones  nihil  omnino  nisi  cum  aliis  iunctæ  designant;  participia  verbo  cognata  sunt,  vel  quod  a  gerundivo  modo   2  definire  om.  S1  17  et  T  22.  23  est  verum  F  25  quæ  om.  S1  26  proposuit  T  33  uerbis  E2?  vero  verbo  editio  princeps  conata  T  gerundi  FXE  (gerunti?  F)    I  c.  1.    15    veniant  vel  quod  tempus  propria  significatione  contineant;  interiectiones  vero  atque  pronomina  nec  non  adverbia  in  nominis  loco  ponenda  sunt,  idcirco  quod  aliquid  significant  definitum,  ubi  nulla  est  vel  passionis  significatio  vel  actionis,  quod  si  casibus  horum quædam  flecti  non  possunt,  nihil  inpedit.  sunt  enim  quædam  nomina  quæ  monoptota  nominantur,  quod  si  quis  ista  longius  et  non  proxime  petita  esse  arbitretur,  illud  tamen  concedit,  quod  supra  iam  diximus,  non  esse  æquum  calumniari  ei,  qui  non  de  omni  oratione,  sed  de  tantum  simplici  enuntiatione  proponat,  quod  tantum  sibi  ad  definitionem  sumpserit,  quantum  arbitratus  sit  operi  instituto  sufficere,  quare  dicendum  est Aristotelem  non  omnis  orationis  partes  hoc opere  velle  definire,  sed  tantum  solius  simplicis  enuntiativæ  orationis,  quæ  sunt  scilicet  nomen  et  verbum,  argumentum  autem  huius  rei  hoc  est.  postquam  enim  proposuit  dicens:  primum  oportet  constituere,  quid  sit  nomen  et  quid  verbum,  non  statim  inquit,  quid  sit  oratio,  sed  mox  addidit  et  quid  sit negatio,  quid  adfirmatio,  quid  enuntiatio,  postremo  vero  quid  oratio,  quod  si  de  omni  oratione  loqueretur,  post  nomen  et  verbum  non  de  adfirmatione  et  negatione  et  post  hanc  de  enuntiatione,  sed  mox  de  oratione  dixisset,  nunc  vero  quoniam  post  nominis et  verbi  propositionem  adfirmationem,  negationem  et  enuntiationem  et  post  orationem  proposuit,  confitendum  est,  id  quod  ante  diximus,  non  orationis  universalis,  sed  simplicis  enuntiativæ  orationis,  quæ  dividitur  in  adfirmationem  atque  negationem,  divisionem  partium  facere  voluisse,  quæ  sunt  nomina  et  verba,  hæc  enim  per  se  ipsa  intellectum  simplicem  servant,   1.  2  continent  F  7  monopta  S    concedat  b  10  calumpniari  E  eum?    tantum  de  E2  enuntiatione  om.  S1  12  sumpserat  F  14  omnes  SFT  20  et  om.  F  26  et  negationem  et  F  31  uerba  et  nomina  F  „    quæ  eadem  dictiones  vocantur,  sed  non  sola  dicuntur,  sunt  namque  dictiones  et  aliæ  quoque:  orationes  vel  inperfectæ  vel  perfectæ,  cuius  plures  esse  partes  supra  iam  docui,  inter  quas  perfectæ  orationis  species  est  enuntiatio,  et  hæc  quoque  alia  simplex,  alia  con-  posita  est.  de  simplicis  vero  enuntiationis  speciebus  inter  philosophos  commentatoresque  certatur,  aiunt  enim  quidam  adfirmationem  atque  negationem  enuntiationi  ut  species  supponi  oportere,  in  quibus  et Porphyrius  est:  quidam  vero  nulla  ratione  consentiunt,  sed  contendunt  adfirmationem  et  negationem  æquivoca  esse  et  uno  quidem  enuntiationis  vocabulo  nuncupari,  prædicari  autem  enuntiationem  ad  utrasque  ut  nomen  æquivocum,  non  ut  genus  univocum;  quorum  princeps  Alexander  est.  quorum  contentiones  adponere  non  videtur  inutile,  ac  prius  quibus  modis  adfirmationem  atque  negationem  non  esse  species  enuntiationis  Alexander  putet  dicendum  est,  post  vero  addam  qua  Porphyrius  hæc  argumentatione dissolverit.  Alexander  namque  idcirco  dicit  non  esse  species  enuntiationis  adfirmationem  et  negationem,  quoniam  adfirmatio  prior  sit.  priorem  vero  adfirmationem  idcirco  conatur  ostendere,  quod  omnis  negatio  adfirmationem  tollat  ac  destruat,  quod  si  ita  25  est,  prior  est  adfirmatio  quæ  subruatur  quam  negatio  quæ  subruat,  in  quibus  autem  prius  aliquid  et  posterius  est,  illa  sub  eodem  genere  poni  non  possunt,  ut  in  eo  titulo  prædicamentorum  dictum  est  qui  de  his  quæ  sunt  simul  inscribitur.  amplius:  negatio omnis,  inquit,  divisio  est,  adfirmatio  conpositio  atque  coniunctio.  cum  enim  dico  Socrates  vivit,  vitam  cum  Socrate  coniunxi;  cum  dico  Socrates  non  vivit,  vitam  a  Socrate  disiunxi.  divisio  igitur  quædam  negatio  est,  coniunctio  adfirmatio.  conpositi  autem  est  con-   1  eædem  SF  sola  ego:  solæ  codices  2  quoq;  ut  b   .    est  species  F  5  alias     alias  E2  12  unum  S1T  22  fit  T    I  c.  1. iunctique  divisio,  prior  est  igitur  coniunctio,  quod  est  adfirmatio;  posterior  vero  divisio,  quod  est  negatio,  illud  quoque  adicit,  quod  omnis  per  adfirmationem  facta  enuntiatio  simplicior  sit  per  negationem  facta  enuntiatione,  ex  negatione  enim  particula  negativa  5  si  sublata  sit,  adfirmatio  sola  relinquitur,  de  eo  enim  quod  est  Socrates  non  vivit  si  non  particula  quæ  est  adverbium  auferatur,  remanet  Socrates  vivit.  simplicior  igitur  adfirmatio  est  quam  negatio,  prius  vero  sit  necesse  est  quod  simplicius  est.  in  quantitate  etiam  quod  ad  quantitatem  minus  est  prius  est  eo  quod  ad  quantitatem  plus  est.  omnis  vero  oratio  quantitas  est.  sed  cum  dico  Socrates  ambulat,  minor  oratio  est  quam  cum  dico  Socrates  non  ambulat,  quare  si  secundum  quantitatem  adfirmatio minor  est,  eam  priorem  quoque  esse  necesse  est.  illud  quoque  adiunxit  adfirmationem  quendam  esse  habitum,  negationem  vero  privationem,  sed  prior  habitus  privatione:  adfirmatio  igitur  negatione  prior  est.  et  ne  singula  persequi  laborem,  cum  aliis  quoque  modis demonstraret  adfirmationem  negatione  esse  priorem,  a  communi  eas  genere  separavit,  nullas  enim  species  arbitratur  sub  eodem  genere  esse  posse,  in  quibus  prius  vel  posterius  consideretur,  sed  Porphyrius  ait  sese  docuisse  species  enuntiationis  esse  adfirmationem  et  negationem  in  his  commentariis  quos  in  Theophrastum  edidit;  hic  vero  Alexandri  argumentationem  tali  ratione  dissolvit,  ait  enim  non  oportere  arbitrari,  quæcumque  quolibet  modo  priora  essent  aliis,  ea  sub  eodem  genere poni  non  posse,  sed  quæ-  cumque  secundum  esse  suum  atque  substantiam  priora vel  posteriora  sunt,  ea  sola  sub  eodem  genere  non  ponuntur,  et  recte  dicitur,  si  enim  omne  quidquid  si  om.  S^E1  16  quoq.  priorem  F  esse  om.  SF    separaret  SF,  separabat  S2F2,  separat  T  nullus  SF1    aliquid  prius  GrTE  consideratur  F  26  iis  F2  Boetii  comxnent.  prius  est  cum  eo  quod  posterius  est  sub  uno  genere  esse  non  potest,  nec  primis  substantiis  et  secundis  commune  genus  poterit  esse  substantia;  quod  qui  dicit  a  recto  ordine  rationis  exorbitat,  sed  quemadmodum  quamquam  sint  primæ  et  secundæ  substantiæ,  tamen  utraque  æqualiter  in  subiecto  non  sunt  et  idcirco  esse  ipsorum  ex  eo  pendet,  quod  in  subiecto  non  sunt,  atque  ideo  sub  uno  substantiæ  genere  conlocantur:  ita  quoque  quamquam  adfirmationes  negationibus  in  orationis  prolatione  priores  sint,  tamen  ad  esse  atque  ad  naturam  propriam  æqualiter  enuntiatione  participant,  enuntiatio  vero est  in  qua  veritas  et  falsitas  inveniri  potest,  qua  in  re  et  adfirmatio  et  negatio  æquales  sunt,  æqualiter  enim  et  adfirmatio  et  negatio  veritate  et  falsitate  participant,  quocirca  quoniam  ad id  quod  sunt  adfirmatio  et  negatio  æqualiter  ab  enuntiatione  participant,  a  communi  eas  enuntiationis  genere  dividi  non  oportet,  mihi  quoque  videtur  quod  Porphyrii  sit  sequenda  sententia,  ut  adfirmatio  et  negatio  communi  enuntiationis  generi  supponantur,  longa  namque  illa  et  multiplicia  Alexandri  argumenta  soluta  sunt,  cum  demonstravit  non  modis  omnibus  ea  quæ  priora  sunt  sub  communi  genere  poni  non  posse,  sed  quæ  ad  esse  proprium  atque  substantiam  priora  sunt  illa  sola  sub  communi  genere  constitui  atque  poni  non  posse.  Syrianus  vero,  cui  Philoxenus  cognomen  est,  hoc  loco  quærit,  cur  proponens  prius  de  negatione,  post  de  adfirmatione  pronuntiaverit  dicens:  primum  oportet constituere,  quid  nomen  et  quid  verbum,  postea  quid  est  negatio  et  adfirmatio.  et  primum  quidem  nihil  proprium  dixit,  quoniam  in  quibus  et  ad-   1  posterius]  prius  S^E1  6  utræque  b  8  sint  E  13  et  post  re  om.  F  16  ad  ego  addidi:  om.  codices    pro  a:  et  SF    supponatur  SF  multiplica  F  ^    quid   sit  n.  codices  31  est  om.  F  primum  S:  primo  S2  et  ceteri    I  c.  1.  firmatio  potest  et  negatio  provenire,  prius  esse  negatio,  postea vero adfirmatio potest, ut de Socrate sanus est. potest ei aptari talis adfirmatio, ut de eo dicatur Socrates sanus est; etiam huiusmodi potest aptari negatio, ut de eo dicatur Socrates sanus non est. quoniam ergo in eum adfirmatio et negatio poterit evenire, prius evenit ut sit negatio quam ut adfirmatio. ante enim quam natus esset: qui enim natus non erat, nec esse poterat sanus, liuic  illud adiecit: servare LIZIO conversam propositionis et exsecutionis distributionem.  hic  enim  prius  post  nomen  et  verbum  de  negatione  proposuit,  post  de  adfirmatione,  dehinc  de  enuntiatione,  postremo  vero  de  oratione,  sed  proposita  definiens  prius  orationem,  post  enuntiationem,  tertio  adfirmationem,  ultimo  vero  loco  negationem  determinavit,  quam  hic  post  propositionem  verbi  et  nominis  primam  locaverat,  ut  igitur  ordo  servaretur  conversus,  idcirco  negationem  prius  ait  esse  propositam,  qua  in  expositione  Alexandri  quoque  sententia  non  discedit,  illud  quoque  est  additum,  quod  non  esset  inutile,  enuntiationem  genus  adfirmationis  et  negationis  accipi  oportere,  quod  quamquam  (ut  dictum  est)  ad  prolationem  prior  esset  adfirmatio,  tamen  ad  ipsam  enuntiationem  id  est  veri  falsique  vim  utrasque  æqualiter  sub  enuntiatione  ab  Aristotele  constitui,  id  etiam  Aristotelem  probare,  præmisit  enim  primam  negationem,  secundam  posuit  adfirmationem,  quæ  res  nihil  habet  vitii,  si  ad  ipsam  enuntiationem  adfirmatio  et  negatio  ponantur  æquales,  quæ  enim  natura  æquales  sunt,  nihil  retinent  contrarii  indifferenter  acceptæ,  est  igitur  ordo  quo  proposuit:  primum  totius  orationis     est.  potest  T  2  non  est  F;  non  supra  lin.  SE;  sanus  est  delet  S2    de  eo  om.  T1  6  eo?  8  post  esset  addit  potuit  dici  sanus  non  est  T,  in  marg.  G2  enim  om.  F,  eras,  in  E    et  hinc  E    primum  F  ergo  T    est  F  (in  rasura)    probare  dicit  FTE2S2(m»Mf^.)  probare  dr  Misit  G  (suprascr.  dicit  Premisit  G2)  enim  om.  E1    quod  F,  quoq.  T elementum,  nomen  scilicet  et  verbum,  post  hæc  negationem  et  adfirmationem,  quæ  species  enuntiationis  sunt,  quorum  genus  id  est  enuntiationem  tertiam  nominavit,  quartam  vero  orationem  posuit,  quæ  ipsius  enuntiationis  genus  est.  et  horum  se  omnium  definitiones  daturum  esse  promisit,  quas  interim  relinquens  atque  præteriens  et  in  posteriorem  tractatum  differens  illud  nunc  addit  quæ  sint  verba  et  nomina  aut  quid  ipsa  significent,  quare  antequam  ad  verba  Aristotelis  ipsa  veniamus,  pauca  communiter  de  nominibus  atque  verbis  et  de  his  quæ  significantur  a  verbis  ac  nominibus  disputemus,  sive  enim  quælibet  interrogatio  sit  atque  responsio,  sive  perpetua  cuiuslibet orationis  continuatio  atque  alterius  auditus  et  intellegentia,  sive  hic  quidem  doceat  ille  vero  discat,  tribus  his  totus  orandi  ordo  perficitur:  rebus,  intellectibus,  vocibus,  res  enim  ab  intellectu  concipitur,  vox  vero  conceptiones  animi  intellectusque  significat,  ipsi  vero  intellectus  et  concipiunt  subiectas  res  et  significantur  a  vocibus,  cum  igitur  tria  sint  hæc  per  quæ  omnis  oratio  conlocutioque  perficitur,  res  quæ  sub-  iectæ  sunt,  intellectus  qui  res  concipiant  et  rursus  a  vocibus  significentur,  voces  vero  quæ  intellectus  designent,  quartum  quoque  quiddam  est,  quo  voces  ipsæ valeant  designari,  id  autem  sunt  litteræ,  scriptæ  namque  litteræ  ipsas  significant  voces,  quare  quattuor  ista  sunt,  ut  litteræ  quidem  significent  voces,  voces  vero  intellectus,  intellectus  autem  concipiant  res,  quæ  scilicet  habent  quandam  non  confusam  neque fortuitam  consequentiam,  sed  terminata  naturæ  suæ  ordinatione  constant,  res  enim  semper  comitantur  eum  qui  ab  ipsis  concipitur intellectum,  ipsum  vero  intellectum  vox  sequitur,  sed  voces  elementa  id  est     quarum?       res  vocibus  om.  F,  in  marg.  add.  F1?    significent  SF    suæ  naturæ  E    constat  SE  comitatur  F2    eum  dei.  F2  intellectus  F I  c.  1.     litteræ,  rebus  enim  ante  propositis  et  in  propria  substantia  constitutis  intellectus  oriuntur,  rerum  enim  semper  intellectus  sunt,  quibus  iterum  constitutis  mox  significatio  vocis  exoritur,  præter  intellectum  namque  vox  penitus  nihil  designat,  sed  quoniam  voces  sunt,  idcirco  litteræ,  quas  vocamus  elementa,  repertæ  sunt,  quibus  vocum  qualitas  designetur,  ad  cognitionem  vero  conversim  sese  res  habet,  namque  apud  quos  eædem  sunt  litteræ  et  qui  eisdem  elementis  utuntur,  eisdem  quoque  nominibus  eos  ac  verbis  id  est  vocibus  uti  necesse  est  et  qui  vocibus  eisdem  utuntur,  idem  quoque  apud  eos  intellectus  in  animi  conceptione  versantur,  sed  apud  quos  idem  intellectus  sunt,  easdem  res  eorum  intellectibus  subiectas  esse  manifestum  est.  sed  hoc  nulla  ratione  convertitur,  namque  apud  quos  eædem  res  sunt  idemque  intellectus,  non  statim  eædem  voces  eædemque  sunt  litteræ.  nam  cum ROMANUS,  Græcus  ac  barbarus  simul  videant  equum,  habent  quoque  de  eo  eundem  intellectum  quod  equus  sit  et  apud  eos  eadem  res  subiecta  est,  idem  a  re  ipsa  concipitur  intellectus,  sed  Græcus  aliter  equum  vocat,  alia  quoque  vox  in  equi  significatione  ROMANA  est  et  barbarus  ab  utroque  in  equi  designatione  dissentit,  quocirca  diversis  quoque  voces  proprias  elementis  inscribunt,  recte  igitur  dictum  est  apud  quos  eædem  res  idemque  intellectus  sunt,  non  statim  apud  eos  vel  easdem  voces  vel  eadem  elementa  consistere,  præcedit  autem  res  intellectum,  intellectus  vero  vocem,  vox  litteras,  sed  hoc  converti  non  potest,  neque  enim  si  litteræ  sint,  mox  aliqua  ex  his  significatio  vocis  exsistit,  hominibus  namque  qui  litteras  ignorant  nullum  nomen  quælibet  elementa  significant,  quippe  quæ  nesciunt,  nec  si  voces   1  positis  F    habent  T  sit  om.  F1 designi-  ficatione  S1    intellectum  res  F  31  consistit  E    sint,  mox  intellectus  esse  necesse  est.  plures  enim  voces  invenies  quæ  nihil  omnino  significent,  nec  intellectui  quoque  subiecta  res  semper  est.  sunt  enim  intellectus  sine  re  ulla  subiecta,  ut  quos  centauros vel  chimæras  poetæ  finxerunt,  horum  enim  sunt  intellectus  quibus  subiecta  nulla  substantia  est.  sed  si  quis  ad  naturam  redeat  eamque  consideret  diligenter,  agnoscet  cum  res  est,  eius  quoque  esse  intellectum:  quod  si  non  apud  homines,  certe  apud  eum,  qui  propriæ  divinitate  substantiæ  in  propria  natura  ipsius  rei  nihil  ignorat,  et  si  est  intellectus,  et  vox  est;  quod  si  vox  fuerit,  eius  quoque  sunt  litteræ,  quæ  si  Ignorantur,  nihil  ad  ipsam  vocis  naturam,  neque  enim,  quasi  causa  quædam  vocum  est  intellectus  aut  vox  causa  litterarum,  ut  cum  eædem  sint  apud  aliquos  litteræ,  necesse  sit  eadem  quoque  esse  nomina:  ita  quoque  cum  eædem  sint  vel  res  vel  intellectus  apud  aliquos,  mox  necesse  est  intellectuum  ipsorum  vel  rerum  eadem  esse  vocabula,  nam  cum  eadem  sit et  res  et  intellectus  hominis,  apud  diversos  tamen  homines  huiusmodi  substantia  aliter  et  diverso  nomine  nuncupatur,  quare  voces  quoque  cum  eædem  sint,  possunt  litteræ  esse  diversæ,  ut  in  hoc  nomine  quod  est  homo:  cum  unum  sit  nomen,  diversis  litteris  scribi  potest,  namque  Latinis  litteris  scribi  potest,   potest  etiam  Græcis,  potest  aliis  nunc  primum  inventis  litterarum  figuris,  quare  quoniam  apud  quos  eædem  res  sunt,  eosdem  intellectus  esse  necesse  est,  apud  quos  idem  intellectus  sunt,  voces  eædem  non     sunt  et  apud  quos  eædem  voces  sunt,  non  necesse     significant  F  3  est  semper  E    omnes  T2  Denm  b  10  snbst.  div.  E  13  nataram  pertinet  F2  14  quædam  causa  F    ut  enim  cum  S2F    pro  litteræ:  uoces  E2  easdem  E2  pro  nomina:  literas  E2  18  mox  non  S2FE2  25  namque   potest  in  marg.  F    res  om.  F1    non  eædem  (non  supra  lin .)  F    prius  sunt  om.  F    I  c.  1. est  eadem  elementa  constitui;  dicendum  est  res  et  intellectus,  quoniam apud omnes idem sunt, esse NATURALITER constitutos, voces vero atque litteras, quoniam diversis  hominum positionibus permutantur, NON ESSE NATURALITER, SED POSITIONE, concludendum  est igitur, quoniam apud quos eadem sunt elementa, apud eos eædem quoque voces sunt et apud quos eædem voces sunt, idem sunt intellectus; apud quos autem idem sunt intellectus, apud eosdem res quoque eædem subiectæ sunt:  rursus  apud  quos  eædem  res sunt,  idem  quoque  sunt  intellectus;  apud  quos  idem  intellectus,  non  eædem  voces;  nec  apud  quos  eædem  voces  sunt,  eisdem  semper  litteris  verba  ipsa  vel  nomina  designantur,  sed  nos  in  supra  dictis  sententiis  elemento  atque  littera  promiscue  usi  sumus,  quæ    autem  sit  horum  distantia  paucis  absolvam,  littera  est  inscriptio  atque  figura  partis  minimæ  vocis  articulatæ,  elementum  vero  sonus  ipsius  inscriptionis:  ut  cum  scribo  litteram  quæ  est  a,  formula  ipsa  quæ  atramento  vel  graphio  scribitur  littera  nominatur,  ipse  vero  sonus  quo  ipsam  litteram  voce  proferimus  dicitur  elementum,  quocirca  hoc  cognito  illud  dicendum  est,  quod  is  qui  docet  vel  qui  continua  oratione  loquitur  vel  qui  interrogat,  contrarie  se  habet  his  qui  vel  discunt  vel  audiunt  vel  respondent  in  his  tribus, voce  scilicet,  intellectu  et  re  (prætermittantur  enim  litteræ  propter  eos  qui  earum  sunt  expertes),  nam  qui  docet  et  qui  dicit  et  qui  interrogat  a  rebus  ad  intellectum  profecti  per  nomina  et  verba  vim  propriæ  actionis  exercent  atque  officium  (rebus  enim  subiectis ab  his  capiunt  intellectus  et  per  nomina  verbaque   0   14  designentur  T  doctis  S1  .    min.  p.  art.  voc.   E    littera  T  pro  a:  id T 20 grafio STE 24. 25 vel qui F1 29 profecti  ego :  profecto  SFE,  profectu  T,  profectus  S2F2E2    exercent  ego:  exercet  codices  atque  in  marg.  S    pronuntiant),  qui  vero  discit  vel  qui  audit  vel  etiam  qui  respondet  a  nominibus  ad  intellectus  progressi  ad  res  usque  perveniunt,  accipiens  enim  is  qui  discit  vel  qui  audit  vel  qui  respondet  docentis  vel  dicentis  vel  interrogantis  sermonem,  quid  unusquisque  illorum  dicat  intellegit  et  intellegens  rerum  quoque  scientiam  capit  et  in  ea  consistit,  recte  igitur  dictum  est  in  voce,  intellectu  atque  re  contrarie  sese  habere  eos  qui  docent,  dicunt,  interrogant  atque  eos  qui  discunt,  audiunt  et  respondent,  cum  igitur  hæc  sint  quattuor,  litteræ,  voces,  intellectus,  res,  proxime  quidem  et  principaliter  litteræ  verba  nominaque  significant,  hæc  vero  principaliter  quidem  intellectus,  secundo  vero  loco  res  quoque  designant,  intellectus  vero  ipsi  nihil  aliud  nisi  rerum  significativi  sunt,  antiquiores  vero  quorum  est  Plato,  Aristoteles,  Speusippus,  Xenocrates  hi  inter  res  et  significationes  intellectuum  medios  sensus  ponunt  in  sensibilibus  rebus  vel  imaginationes  quasdam,  in  quibus  intellectus  ipsius  origo  consistat,  et  nunc  quidem  quid  de  hac  re  Stoici  dicant  prætermittendum  est.  hoc  autem  ex  his  omnibus  solum  cognosci  oportet,  quod  ea  quæ  sunt  in  litteris  eam  significent  orationem  quæ  in  voce  consistit  et  ea  quæ  est  vocis  oratio  quod  animi  atque  intellectus  orationem  designet,  quæ  tacita  cogitatione  conficitur,  et  quod  hæc  intellectus  oratio  subiectas  principaliter  res  sibi  concipiat  ac  designet,  ex  quibus  quattuor  duas  quidem  Aristoteles  esse  NATURALITER dicit,  res  et  animi  conceptiones,  id  est  eam  quæ  fit  in  intellectibus  orationem,  idcirco    quod  apud  omnes  eædem  atque  inmutabiles  sint;   6  et  om.  S1    uerba  et  nomina  S2F,  nomina  et  uerba  (in  ras .)  E hæc designant  in  marg.  E significationes  F  16  //usippus  S,  siue  usippus  S2FT     nunc  om.  SFT   dicunt  SF    et  quod  S2FE2  est  om.  S1  uocis  est  F  24  quod  dei.  S2,  om.  FE  29  intellectus  S1    I  c.  1. duas  vero  NON NATURALITER, SED POSITIONE constitui, quæ sunt scilicet verba nomina et litteræ, quas idcirco NATURALITER fixas esse non dicit, quod  ut supra demonstratum est non  eisdem  vocibus  omnes  aut  isdem  utantur  elementis,  atque  hoc  est  quod  ait: Sunt  ergo  ea  quæ sunt in voce earum quæ sunt in anima passionum notæ et ea  quæ  scribuntur  eorum  quæ  sunt  in  voce,  et  quemadmodum  nec  litteræ  omnibus  eædem,  sic  nec  voces  eædem,  quorum  autem  hæc  primorum  notæ,  eædem  omnibus  passiones  animæ  et  quorum  hæ  similitudines,  res  etiam  eædem,  de  his  quidem  dictum  est  in  his  quæ  sunt  dicta  de  anima,  alterius  est  enim  negotii. Cum igitur prius posuisset  nomen  et  verbum  et  quæcumque  secutus  est  postea  se  definire  promisisset,  hæc  interim  prætermittens  de  passionibus  animæ  deque  earum  notis,  quæ  sunt  scilicet  voces,  pauca  præmittit,  sed  cur  hoc  ita  interposuerit,  plurimi  commentatores  causas  reddere  neglexerunt,  sed  a  tribus  quantum  adhuc  sciam  ratio  huius  interpositionis  explicita  est.  quorum  Hermini  quidem  a  rerum  veritate  longe  disiuncta  est.  ait  enim  idcirco  Aristotelen  de  notis  animæ  passionum  interposuisse  sermonem,  ut  utilitatem  propositi  operis  inculcaret,  disputaturus enim  de  vocibus,  quæ  sunt  notæ  animæ  passionum,  recte  de  his  quædam  ante  præmisit,  nam  cum  suæ  nullus  animæ  passiones  ignoret,  notas  quoque  cum  animæ  passionibus  non  nescire  utilissimum  est.  neque  enim  illæ  cognosci  possunt  nisi  per  voces  quæ  sunt     1  non  om.  S1  4.5  eisdem  FE    noces  eædem  F  Ar.:  eædem  uoces  ceteri  hæ  codices  cf. p. 43, 6 12  animæ   sunt  codices :  sunt  om.  Ar.  cf.  ed.  I  hæ  27,  he§  X:  eædem  ceteri  14  dicta  post  anima  X  enim  om.  X1  (enim  est  X2)     definire  se  F    neglexerunt  h:  neglexerant  codices  .    explicata  E  ( corr .  E2)  Aristotelem  F SECVNDA  EDITIO    earum  scilicet  notæ.  Alexander  vero  aliam  huius-  modi  interpositionis  reddidit  causam,  quoniam,  iquit,  verba  et  nomina  interpretatione  simplici  continentur,  oratio  vero  ex  verbis  nominibusque  coniuncta est  et  in  ea  iam  veritas  aut  falsitas  invenitur;  sive  autem  quilibet  sermo  sit  simplex,  sive  iam  oratio  coniuncta  atque  conposita,  ex  his  quæ  significant  momentum  sumunt  (in  illis  enim  prius  est  eorum  ordo  et  continentia,  post  redundat  in  voces):  quocirca  quo-  10  niam  significantium  momentum  ex  his  quæ  signifcantur  oritur,  idcirco  prius  nos  de  his  quæ  voces  ipsæ  significant  docere  proponit,  sed  Herminus  hoc  loco  repudiandus  est.  nihil  enim  tale  quod  ad  causam  propositæ  sententiæ  pertineret  explicuit.  Ale-  15  x  and  er  vero  strictim  proxima  intellegentia  prætervectus  tetigit  quidem  causam,  non  tamen  principalem  rationem  Aristotelicæ  propositionis  exsolvit.  sedPor-  phyrius  ipsam  plenius  causam  originemque  sermonis  huius  ante  oculos  conlocavit,  qui  omnem  apud  priscos  philosophos  de  significationis  vi  contentionem  litemque  retexuit,  ait  namque  dubie  apud  antiquorum  philosophorum  sententias  constitisse  quid  esset  proprie  quod  vocibus  significaretur,  putabant  namque  alii  res  vocibus  designari  earumque  vocabula  esse  ea  quæ sonarent  in  vocibus  arbitrabantur,  alii  vero  incorporeas  quasdam  naturas  meditabantur,  quarum  essent  significationes  quæcumque  vocibus  designarentur:  Platonis  aliquo  modo  species  incorporeas  æmulati  dicentis  hoc  ipsum  homo  et  hoc  ipsum  equus  non  hanc  cuiuslibet  subiectam  substantiam,  sed  illum  ipsum  hominem  specialem  et  illum  ipsum  equum,  universaliter  et  incorporaliter  co-   2  interprætationis  T    pro  iam:  autem  S,  om.  F  7  significantur  b  13  ad  in  marg.  E  20  de  om.  F1     apud  om.  E1  22  sententiæ  S1  24  eorum/////q;  SE,  eorumq;  T  uocubula  T  25  sonarent  ego:  sonauerunt  S,  sonauerint  S2FE,  sonuerint  T  31  equum  significare  T    I  c.  1. gitantes  incorporales  quasdam  naturas  constituebant,  quas  ad  significandum  primas  venire  putabant  et  cum  aliis  item  rebus  in  significationibus  posse  coniungi,  ut  ex  his  aliqua  enuntiatio  vel  oratio  conficeretur,  alii  vero  sensus,  alii  imaginationes  significari  vocibus  arbitrabantur.  cum  igitur  ista  esset  contentio  apud  superiores  et  hæc  usque  ad  Aristotelis  pervenisset  ætatem,  necesse  fuit  qui  nomen  et  verbum  significativa  esset  definiturus  prædiceret  quorum  ista  designativa  sint.  Aristoteles  enim  nominibus  et  verbis  res  subiectas  significari  non  putat,  nec  vero  sensus  vel  etiam  imaginationes,  sensuum  quidem  non  esse  significativas  voces  nomina  et  verba  in  opere  de  iustitia  sic  declarat  dicens  cpvdeL  yaQ  ev&vg  diriQ^rai  tcc  rs  votf-  { Lata  nal  ta  aiGfrri [luta,  quod  interpretari  Latine  potest  hoc  modo:  NATURA  enimdivisa  sunt  intellectus  et  sensus,  differre  igitur  aliquid  arbitratur  sensum  atque  intellectum,  sed  qui  passiones  animæ  a  vocibus  significari  dicit,  is  non  de  sensibus  loquitur,  sensus  enim  corporis  passiones  sunt,  si  igitur  ita  dixisset  passionescorporis  a  vocibus  significari,  tunc  merito  sensus  intellegeremus,  sed  quoniam  passiones  animæ  nomina  'et  verba  significare  proposuit,  non  sensus  sed  intellectus  eum  dicere  putandum  est.  sed  quoniam  imaginatio  quoque  res  animæ  est,  dubitaverit  aliquis  ne  forte  passiones  animæ  imagi-     Ar.  fragm.  coli.  VRose  76    2  per  quas  se  F2  9  designativa  b:  designificatiua  codices  14  dirjQ7]Tcu  ego  (cf.  Ar.  1162,22  eth.  Nic.  VIII,  14:  sv&vs  yocQ  di7iQi]Tcu  tu  %Qya  v.ul  S6TLV  sxsQu  uvSqos  Y.ui  yv-  vaixog):  anhphtai  SGNJTE;  verba  Græca  om.  F  (rsEl  FAP  EY&  et  alia  in  marg.  F2),  dicens  hic  deest  grecum  quod  interpretari  B  15  AIZTHMATA  EN  Latine  om.  F  16  potes  VRose  statim  ego  add.:  om.  codices  diuersa  E2  est  N  19  a  om.  S*F  23  designificare  F  26  animæ  om.  F nationes,  qnas  Græci  (pavraCiag  nominant,  dicat,  sed  hæc  in  libris  de  anima  verissime  diligentissimeque  separavit  dicens  etircv  de  cpavraoCa  eteqov  epaOeog  nal  unoepaGeag'  Gvintloxr}  yaQ  vorj[icctav  etirlv  ro  ccArjfreg  5  xcd  ro  tyevdog.  rd  de  tcqcotcc  vocata  t C  dioCcei  rov  [. irj  cpavrccANTAZMsl  codices  pro  rj:  N  codices  7  interpretatur  EN    aliquid  S2F  .    demonstret  T,  corr.  T2    quis  F  25  idem  ( pro  id  est)  T2  26  pro  qui:  quid  S,  quod  S2F    I  c.  1. ginatio  quædam  primæ  figuræ  sunt,  supra  quas  velut  fundamento  quodam  superveniens  intellegentia  nitatur,  nam  sicut  pictores  solent  designare  lineatim  corpus  atque  substernere  ubi  coloribus  cuiuslibet  exprimant  vultum,  sic  sensus  atque  imaginatio  naturaliter  in  animæ  perceptione  substernitur,  nam  cum  res  aliqua  sub  sensum  vel  sub  cogitationem  cadit,  prius  eius  quædam  necesse  est  imaginatio  nascatur,  post  vero  plenior  superveniat  intellectus  cunctas  eius  explicans  partes  quæ  confuse  fuerant  imaginatione  præsumptæ. quocirca  inperfectum  quiddam  est  imaginatio,  nomina  vero  et  verba  non  curta  quædam,  sed  perfecta  significant.  quare  recta  Aristotelis  sententia  est:  quæcumque  in  verbis  nominibusque  versantur,  ea  neque  sensus  neque  imaginationes,  sed  solam  significare  intellectuum  qualitatem,  unde  illud  quoque  ab  Aristotele  fluentes  Peripatetici  rectissime  posuerunt  tres  esse  orationes,  unam  quæ  scribi  possit  elementis,  alteram  quæ  voce  proferri,  tertiam  quæ  cogitatione  conecti  unamque  intellectibus,  alteram  voce,  tertiam  litteris  contineri,  quocirca  quoniam  id  quod  significaretur  a  vocibus  intellectus  esse  Aristoteles  putabat,  nomina  vero  et  verba  significativa  esse  in  eorum  erat  definitionibus  positurus,  recte  quorum  essent  significativa prædixit erroremque lectoris  ex  multiplici  veterum  lite  venientem  sententiæ  suæ  manifestatione  conpescuit.  atque  hoc modo nihil in eo deprehenditur esse  superfluum,  nihil  ab  ordinis  continuatione  se-  iunctum.  quærit  vero  Porphyrius,  cur  ita  dixerit: sunt ergo ea quæ sunt in voce, et non sic: sunt si  quod  S^1  7  ait.  sub  om.  F  enim  (pro  eius)  E   10  confuse  b:  confusæ  SF,  confusa  TE  in  im.  S2,  in  yma-  ginationem  F  præsumpta  T    imaginationis  SFE1?   18  sit  ( pro  possit)  S1  19  cogitationem  SFE    conecti  ego :  conectit  codices,  connectitur  b  21  teneri  F,  corr.  F2 esse om. T1    ad  T    igitur  voces;  et  rursus  cur  ita  et  ea  quæ  scribuntur  et  non  dixerit:  et  litteræ,  quod  resolvit  hoc  modo,  dictum  est  tres  esse  apud  Peripateticos  orationes,  unam  quæ  litteris  scriberetur,  aliam  quæ  proferretur  in  voce,  tertiam  quæ  coniungeretur  in  animo,  quod  si  tres  orationes  sunt,  partes  quoque  orationis  esse  triplices  nulla  dubitatio  est.  quare  quoniam  verbum  et  nomen  principaliter  orationis  partes  sunt,  erunt  alia  verba et nomina quæ scribantur, alia quæ dicantur, alia quæ tacita mente tractentur, ergo quoniam proposuit dicens: primum oportet constituere, quid nomen et quid verbum, triplex autem nominum natura est atque verborum, de quibus potissimum proposuerit et quæ definire velit ostendit, et quoniam de his nominibus loquitur ac verbis, quæ voce proferuntur, idem ipsum planius explicans ait: sunt ergo ea quæ sunt in voce earum quæ sunt in anima passionum notæ et ea quæ scribuntur eorum quæ sunt in voce, velut si diceret: ea verba et nomina quæ in vocali oratione proferuntur [H. P. Grice: UTTER] animæ passiones denuntiant, illa autem rursus verba et nomina quæ scribuntur eorum verborum nominumque SIGNIFICANTIÆ præsunt quæ voce proferuntur [H. P. Grice: UTTER], nam sicut vocalis orationis verba et nomina CONCEPTIONES [not passions] animi intellectusque significant, ita quoque verba et nomina illa quæ in solis litterarum formulis iacent ijjorum verborum et nominum significativa sunt quæ loquimur, id est quæ per vocem sonamus, nam quod ait: sunt ergo ea quæ sunt in voce, subaudiendum est verba et nomina, et  rursus cum dicit: et ea quæ scribuntur, idem subnectendum rursus est verba scilicet vel nomina, et quod rursus 1 cur om. F1 proferetur  F2T    post  nomen  ras.  sex  vel  octo  litt.  in  S    quid  sit  n.  codices    ergo  om.  SF    uerba  rursus  F    uerba  orationis  F  .  cum  dicit  rursus  F vel]  et  b I  c.  1.  adiecit:  eorum quæ sunt  in  voce,  addendum  eorum  nomimum  atque  verborum  quæ  profert  atque  explicat  vocalis  oratio,  quod  si  nihil  deesset  omnino,  ita  foret  totius  plenitudo  sententiæ:  sunt  ergo  ea  verba  et  nomina  quæ  sunt  in  voce  earum  quæ  sunt  in  anima  passionum  notæ  et  ea  verba  et  nomina  quæ  scribuntur  eorum  verborum  et  nominum  quæ  sunt  in  voce,  quod  communiter  intellegendum  est,  licet  ea  quæ  subiunximus  deesse  videantur,  quare  non   est  disiuncta  sententia,  sed  primæ  propositioni  continua.  nam  cum  quid  sit  verbum,  quid  nomen  definire  constituit,  cum nominis et verbi NATURA sit  multiplex,  de quo verbo et nomine tractare vellet clara significatione distinxit, incipiens igitur ab his nominibus ac verbis quæ in voce sunt, quorum essent significativa disseruit, ait enim hæc passiones animæ designare. illud quoque adiecit quibus ipsa verba et nomina quæ in voce sunt designentur, his scilicet quæ litterarum formulis exprimuntur, SED QUONIAM NON OMNIS VOX SIGNIFICATIVA EST, VERBA VERO VEL NOMINA NUMQUAM SIGNIFICATIONIBUS VACANT QUONIAMQUE NON OMNIS VOX QUÆ SIGNIFICAT QUÆDAM *POSITIONE* DESIGNAT, SED *QUÆDAM NATURALITER*, UT LACRIMÆ, GEMITUS ATQUE MÆROR – ANIMALIUM QUOQUE CETERORUM QUÆDAM *VOCES NATURALITER ALIQUID OSTENTANT* UT EX CANUM LATRATIBUS IRACUNDIA EORUMQUE ALIA QUADAM VOCEM BLANDIMENDA *MONSTRANTUR --verba autem et nomina positione significant neque solum sunt verba et nomina voces, sed voces significativæ nec solum significativæ, sed etiam QUÆ POSITIONE DESIGNENT ALIQUID, NON NATURA: non  dixit: sunt igitur voces earum quæ sunt in anima passionum notæ, namque neque omnis vox significativa quæ  sunt  in  v.  nomina  in  marg. F  15 sunt] sunt  designantes  TGr  17  et  uerba  et  T  20  vel]  et b  vacant ego: vacarent codices, carent b que om. S1 quadam S2E moerorem S, merore  FE nam FT est et SUNT QUÆDAM *SIGNIFICATIVÆ* QUÆ *NATURALITER* NON POSITIONE SIGNIFICENT, quod si ita dixisset, nihil ad proprietatem verborum et nominum pertineret, quocirca noluit communiter dicere  voces, sed dixit tantum ea quæ sunt in voce, vox enim universale quiddam est, nomina vero et verba partes, pars autem omnis in toto est. verba ergo et nomina quoniam sunt intra vocem, recte dictum est ea quæ sunt in voce,  velut si diceret: quæ intra vocem continentur intellectuum designativa sunt, sed hoc simile est ac si ita dixisset:  vox certo modo sese habens significat intellectus. non enim ut dictum est nomen et verbum voces tantum sunt,  sicut nummus quoque non solum æs inpressum quadam figura est, ut nummus vocetur, sed etiam ut alicuius rei sit pretium:  eodem  quoque  modo  verba  et  nomina  non  solum  voces  sunt,  sed  POSITÆ AD QUANDAM INTELLECTUUM SIGNIFICATIONEM,  vox  enim  quæ  nihil  designat,  ut  est GARALUS, licet eam grammatici figuram vocis intuentes nomen esse contendant,  tamen eam nomen philosophia non  putabit,  nisi  sit posita ut  designare  animi  aliquam  conceptionem  eoque  modo  rerum  aliquid  possit,  etenim  nomen  alicuius  nomen  esse  necesse  erit;  sed  si  vox  aliqua  nihil  designat,  nullius  nomen  est;  quare  si  nullius  est, ne  nomen  quidem  esse  dicetur,  atque  ideo  huiusmodi  vox  id  est  significativa  non  vox  tantum,  sed  verbum  vocatur  aut  nomen,  quemadmodum  nummus  non  æs,  sed  proprio  nomine  nummus,  quo  ab  alio  ære  discrepet,  nuncupatur,  ergo  hæc  Aristotelis  sententia    qua  ait  ea  quæ  sunt  in  voce  nihil  aliud  designat  nisi  eam  vocem,  quæ  non  solum  vox  sit,  sed  quæ  cum  vox  sit  habeat  tamen  aliquam  proprietatem  et 4  dicere  pro  dixit  T.  des.  s.  intell.  T,  corr.  T2 nummos  S1    garulus  F    putabit  ego:  putavit   codices    aliq.  rer.  F    dicitur  T  ideo  om.  F1 non  nummus  in  marg.  S    qua  ait  om.  F1    I  c.  1. aliquam  quodammodo  figuram  positæ  significationis  inpressam.  horum  vero  id  est  verborum  et  nominum  quæ  sunt  in  voce  aliquo  modo  se  habente  ea  sunt  scilicet  significativa  quæ  scribuntur,  ut  hoc  quod  dictum  est  quæ  scribuntur  de  verbis  ac  nominibus dictum  quæ  sunt  in  litteris  intellegatur,  potest  vero  hæc  quoque  esse  ratio  cur  dixerit  et  quæ  scribuntur:  quoniam  litteras  et  inscriptas  figuras  et  voces,  quæ  isdem  significantur  formulis,  nuncupamus  (ut  a  et  ipse  sonus  litteræ  nomen  capit  et  illa  quæ  10  in  subiecto  ceræ  vocem  significans  forma  describitur),  designare  volens,  quibus  verbis  atque  nominibus  ea  quæ  in  voce  sunt  adparerent,  non  dixit  litteras,  quod  ad  sonos  etiam  referri  potuit  litterarum,  sed  ait  quæ  scribuntur,  ut  ostenderet  de  his  litteris  dicere  quæ    in  scriptione  consisterent  id  est  quarum  figura  vel  in  cera  stilo  vel  in  membrana  calamo  posset  effingi,  alioquin  illa  iam  quæ  in  sonis  sunt  ad  ea  nomina  referuntur  quæ  in  voce  sunt,  quoniam  sonis  illis  nomina  et  verba  iunguntur.  sed  Porphyrius  de  utraque  expositione  iudicavit  dicens:  id  quod  ait  et  quæ  scribuntur  non  potius  ad  litteras,  sed  ad  verba  et  nomina  quæ  posita  sunt  in  litterarum  inscriptione  referendum,  restat  igitur  ut  illud  quoque  addamus,  cur  non  ita  dixerit:  sunt  ergo  ea  quæ  sunt  in  voce intellectuum  notæ,  sed  ita  earum  quæ  sunt  in  anima  passionum notæ,  nam  cum  ea  quæ  sunt in voce res intellectusque significent, principaliter  quidem  intellectus,  res  vero  quas  ipsa  intellegentia  con-  prehendit  secundaria  significatione  per  intellectuum medietatem,  intellectus  ipsi  non  sine  quibusdam  passionibus  sunt,  quæ  in  animam  ex  subiectis  veniunt  rebus,  passus  enim  quilibet  eius  rei  proprietatem,   3  sese  E  5  et  F scriptas  b se  de?  .   quæ  inscriptione  T    menbrana  F    proposita  F   24  illas  Tl  26  si  T  . medietatibus (pro  pass.)  T  BOEZIO (si veda)  comment.  II. quam  intellectu  conplectitur,  ad  eius  enuntiationem  designationemque  contendit,  cum  enim  quis  aliquam  rem  intellegit,  prius  imaginatione  formam  necesse  est  intellectæ  rei  proprietatemque  suscipiat  et  fiat  vel    passio  vel  cum  passione  quadam  intellectus  perceptio,  hac  vero  posita  atque  in  mentis  sedibus  conlocata  fit  indicandæ  ad  alterum  passionis  voluntas,  cui  actus  quidam  continuandæ  intellegentiæ  protinus  ex  intimæ  rationis  potestate  supervenit,  quem  scilicet  explicat  et    effundit  oratio  nitens  ea  quæ  primitus  in  mente  fundata  est  passione,  sive,  quod  est  verius,  significatione  progressa  oratione  progrediente  simul  et  significantis  seorationis  motibus  adæquante,  fit  vero  bæc  passio  velut  figuræ  alicuius  inpressio,  sed  ita  ut  in  animo    fieri  consuevit,  aliter  namque  naturaliter  inest  in  re  qualibet  propria  figura,  aliter  vero  eius  ad  animum  forma  transfertur,  velut  non  eodem  modo  ceræ  vel  marmori  vel  chartis  litteræ  id  est  vocum  signa  mandantur.  et  imaginationem  Stoici del PORTICO a  rebus  in  animam    translatam  loquuntur,  sed  cum  adiectione  semper  dicentes  ut  in  anima,  quocirca  cum  omnis  animæ  passio  rei  quædam  videatur  esse  proprietas,  porro  autem  designativæ  voces  intellectuum  principaliter,  rerum  dehinc  a  quibus  intellectus  profecti  sunt  significatione nitantur, quidquid  est  in  vocibus  significativum,  id  animæ  passiones  designat,  sed  hæ passiones animarum ex rerum similitudine procreantur, videns  4 intellegi T  (corr.  T1)  intellectio  T    Hæc  T   8  quidem  F  quem  actum  F,  actum  supra  lin.  J,  s.  actum  supra  lin.  S2  oratione  ego:  oratio  codices;  oratio  suprascr.  s.  explicat  S2,  oratio explicat  F  significatione  dei  et  post  simul  transponit  F2  (E  in  marg.:  aliter  siue  quod  est  verius  significatione  progrediente  oratio progressa simul et se signif. or. mot.  adæq.)  metibus  S1,  mentibus  F1  transferetur  T,  corr.  T2  17  vel  om.  F    a  om.  S1  25  nitatur  S^1    animorum  SFE  et  T^1    I  c.  1.  namque  aliquis  sphæram  vel  quadratum  vel  quamlibet  aliam  rerum  figuram  eam  in  animi  intellegentia  quadam  vi  ac  similitudine  capit,  nam  qui  sphæram  viderit,  eius  similitudinem  in  animo  perpendit  et  cogitat  atque  eius  in  animo  quandam  passus  imaginem  id  cuius  imaginem  patitur  agnoscit,  omnis  vero  imago  rei  cuius  imago  est  similitudinem  tenet:  mens  igitur  cum  intellegit,  rerum  similitudinem  conprehendit.  unde  fit  ut,  cum  duorum  corporum  maius  unum,  minus  alterum  contuemur,  a  sensu  postea  remotis  corporibus  illa  ipsa  corpora  cogitantes  illud  quoque  memoria  servante  noverimus  sciamusque  quod  minus,  quod  vero  maius  corpus  fuisse  conspeximus,  quod  nullatenus  eveniret,  nisi  quas  semel  mens  passa  est  rerum  similitudines  optineret.  quare  quoniam  passiones  animæ  quas  intellectus  vocavit  rerum  quædam  similitudines  sunt,  idcirco  Aristoteles,  cum  paulo  post  de  passionibus  animæ  loqueretur,  continenti  ordine  ad  similitudines  transitum  fecit,  quoniam  nihil  differt  utrum  passiones  diceret  an  similitudines,  eadem  namque  res  in  anima  quidem  passio est, rei vero similitudo, et  Alexander hunc locum: sunt ergo ea quæ sunt in voce earum quæ sunt in anima passionum notæ et ea quæ scribuntur eorum quæ sunt in voce, et quemadmodum nec litteræ omnibus eædem, sic nec voces eædem hoc modo conatur exponere: proposuit, inquit, ea quæ sunt in voce intellectus animi designare et hoc alio probat exemplo,  eodem modo enim ea quæ sunt in voce passiones animæ SIGNIFICANT, quemadmodum ea quæ scribuntur voces DE-SIGNANT, ut id quod ait et ea quæ 1  aliquis  om.  T,  aliqui  E  feram  S,  speram  S2FT ui§  (pro  vi  ac)  SF  speram  FT    duum  S2F2    sciamusque  ego:  sciemusq.  codices    mens  om.  T    pass. animæ  editio princeps  inscribuntur  SFE    eædem  uoces  codices  enim  modo  F scribuntur  ita  intellegamus,  tamquam  si  diceret:  quemadmodum  etiam  ea  quæ  scribuntur  eorum  quæ  sunt  in  voce,  ea  vero  quæ  scribuntur,  inquit  Alexander,  notas  esse  vocum  id  est  nominum  ac  verborum  ex  hoc  monstravit  quod  diceret  et quemadmodum nec  litteræ  omnibus  eædem,  sic  nec  voces  eædem,  SIGNVM namque  est  vocum  ipsarum significationem litteris contineri, quod ubi variæ sunt litteræ et non eadem quæ  scribuntur varias  quoque voces esse necesse est.  hæc  Alexander.  Porphyrius vero quoniam tres proposuit orationes, unam  quæ  litteris  contineretur,  secundam  quæ  verbis  ac  nominibus  personaret,  tertiam  quam  mentis  evolveret  intellectus,  id  Aristotelem  significare  pronuntiat,    cum  dicit: sunt ergo ea quæ sunt in voce earum quæ sunt in anima passionum notæ, quod ostenderet si ita dixisset: sunt ergo ea quæ sunt in voce et verba et nomina animæ passionum  |  notæ,  et  quoniam monstravit quorum essent voces SIGNIFICATIVÆ, illud quoque docuisse quibus SIGNIS [“Words are not signs” – H. P. Grice] verba vel nomina panderentur ideoque  addidisse  et  ea  quæ  scribuntur  eorum  quæ  sunt in voce,  tamquam  si  diceret:  ea  quæ  scribuntur  verba  et  nomina  eorum  quæ sunt  in  voce  verborum  et  nominum  notæ  sunt. nec  disiunctam  esse  sententiam  nec  (ut  Alexander  putat)  id  quod  ait:  et  ea  quæ  scribuntur  ita  intellegendum,  tamquam  si  diceret:  sicut  ea  quæ  scribuntur  id  est  litteræ  illa  quæ  sunt  in  voce  significant,  ita  ea  quæ  sunt  in  voce  notas  esse  animæ passionum,  primo  quod  ad  simplicem  sensum  nihil  addi  oportet,  deinde  tam  brevis  ordo  tamque  necessaria  orationis  non  est  intercidenda  partitio,  tertium  vero  quoniam,  si  similis  significatio  est  litterarum  vo-   5  quo  TE1    eædem  F,  eedem  T    quæ  F    aristotelen  T  18  prius  et  om.  TE    et  b    sunt  om.  SF primum?  quidem  quod  b    deinde  quod  b  tamque]  tamquam  T esset  E2    I  c.  1.  cumque,  quæ  est  vocum  et  animæ  passionum,  oportet  sicut  voces  diversis  litteris  permutantur,  ita  quoque  passiones  animæ  diversis  vocibus  permutari,  quod  non  fit.  idem  namque  intellectus  variatis  potest  vocibus  significari,  sed  Alexander  id  quod  eum  superius  sensisse  memoravi  boc  probare  nititur  argumento,  ait  enim  etiam  in  hoc  quoque  similem  esse  significationem  litterarum  ac  vocum,  quoniam  sicut  litteræ  non  naturaliter  voces,  sed  positione  significant,  ita  quoque  voces  non  naturaliter  intellectus  animi,  sed  aliqua positione  designant,  sed  qui  prius  recepit,  ut  id  quod  Aristoteles  ait:  et  ea  quæ  scribuntur  ita  dictum  esset,  tamquam  si  diceret:  sicut  ea  quæ  scribuntur,  quidquid  ad  hanc  sententiam  videtur  adiungere, æqualiter non  dubitatur  errare,  quocirca  nostro  iudicio  qui  rectius  tenere  volent  Porphyrii  se  sententiis adplicabunt. Aspasius  quoque  secundæ  sententiæ  Alexandri,  quam  supra  posuimus,  valde  consentit,  qui  a  nobis  in  eodem  quo  Alexander  errore  culpabitur. LIZIO  vero  duobus  modis  esse  has  notas  putat  litterarum,  vocum  passionumque  animæ  constitutas:  uno  quidem  positione,  alio  vero  naturaliter. atque  hoc  est  quod  ait: et  quemadmodum nec litteræ omnibus eædem, sic nec  voces  eædem,  nam  si  litteræ  voces,  ipsæ  vero  voces  intellectus  animi  naturaliter  designarent,  omnes  homines  isdem  litteris,  isdem  etiam  vocibus  uterentur,  quod  quoniam  apud  omnes  neque  eædem  litteræ  neque  eædem  voces  sunt,  constat eas  non  esse  naturales,  sed  hic  duplex  lectio  est.  Alexander  enim hoc  modo  legi  putat oportere:  quorum  autem  hæc  primo-  oporteret E 11 recipit S, corr. S2  quam  Alexander  in  marg.  S vocum  om.  S1  .  eædem  v.  codices hisdem  S2F2TE   hisdem  SF2TE    hæ codices rum NOTÆ,  eædem  omnibus  PASSIONES animæ  et  quorum  eædem  similitudines,  res etiam  eædem,  volens  enim  Aristoteles  ea  quæ  positione  significant  ab  bis  quæ  aliquid DE-SIGNANT NATVRALITER segregare  hoc  interposuit:  ea  quæ  POSITIONE (thesei, not physei – Grice) SIGNIFICANT varia  esse,  ea  vero  quæ  naturaliter  apud  omnes  eadem,  et  incobans quidem a vocibus ad litteras venit  easque  primo  non  esse  naturaliter  significativas  demonstrat  dicens:  et  quemadmodum  nec  litteræ  omnibus  eædem,  sic  nec  voces  eædem,  nam  si  idcirco  probantur  litteræ  non  esse  naturaliter  significantes,  quod  apud  alios  aliæ  sint  ac  diversæ,  eodem  quoque  modo  probabile  erit  voces  quoque  NON NATURALITER SIGNIFICARE,  quoniam  singulæ  hominum  gentes non  eisdem  inter  se  vocibus  conio quantur. volens vero similitudinem  intellectuum  rerumque  subiectarum  docere  NATVRALITER constitutam  ait:  quorum  autem  hæc  primorum  notæ,  eædem omnibus  passiones  animæ,  quorum,  inquit,  voces  quæ  apud  diversas  gentes  ipsæ  quoque  diversæ  sunt  SIGNIFICATIONEM retinent,  quæ  scilicet  sunt  animæ  passiones,  illæ  apud  omnes  eædem  sunt,  neque  enim  fieri  potest,  ut  quod  APVD ROMANOS “homo” intellegitur lapis apud barbaros  intellegatur,  eodem  quoque  modo  de  ceteris  25  rebus,  ergo  huiusmodi  sententia  est,  qua  dicit  ea  quæ voces  significent apud omnes  hominum  gentes  non  mutari,  ut  ipsæ  quidem  voces,  sicut  supra  monstravit  cum  dixit  quemadmodum  nec  litteræ  omnibus  eædem,  sic  nec  voces  eædem,  apud    plures  diversæ  sint,  illud  vero  quod  voces  ipsæ  significant  apud  omnes  homines  idem  sit  nec  ulla  ra- 1  animæ  sunt  codices inchoatis  T    significas  S1,  signifitivas  T  colloquuntur  b  ait  S,  quod  ait  TE  (quod  dei.  E1?) apud  om.  F,  add.  F1 qui  T modo  quoq.  F  29  apud  ego:  cum  apud  codices    fit  F I  c.  1. tione  valeat  permutari,  qui  sunt  scilicet  intellectus  rerum,  qui  quoniam  naturaliter  sunt  permutari  non  possunt,  atque  hoc  est  quod  ait:  quorum  autem  hæc  primorum  notæ,  id  est  voces,  eædem  omnibus  passiones  animæ,  ut  demonstraret  voces quidem  esse  diversas,  quorum  autem  ipsæ  voces  significativæ  essent,  quæ  sunt  scilicet  animæ  passiones,  easdem  apud  omnes  esse  nec  |  ullratione,  quoniam   sunt  constitutæ  naturaliter,  permutari,  nec  vero  in  hoc  constitit,  ut  de  solis  vocibus  atque  intellectibus  loqueretur,  sed quoniam voces atque litteras non esse naturaliter constitutas per id significavit, quod eas non apud omnes easdem esse proposuit,  RURSUS INTELLECTUS QUOS ANIMÆ PASSIONES VOCAT PER HOC ESSE NATURALES OSTENDIT, QUOD *APUD OMNES IDEM SINT,  a  quibus id  est  intellectibus  ad  res  transitum  fecit,  ait  enim  quorum  hæ  similitudines,  res  etiam  eædem  hoc  scilicet  sentiens,  quod  res  quoque  naturaliter  apud  omnes  homines  essent  eædem:  sicut  ipsæ  animæ  passiones  quæ ex  rebus  sumuntur  apud  omnes  homines  eædem  sunt,  ita  quoque  etiam  ipsæ  res  quarum  similitudines  sunt  animæ  passiones  eædem  apud  omnes  sunt,  quocirca  quoque  naturales  sunt,  sicut  sunt  etiam  rerum  similitudines,  quæ  sunt  animæ  passiones.  H  er  minus  vero  huic  est  expositioni  contrarius.  dicit  enim  non esse  verum  eosdem  apud  omnes  homines  esse  intellectus,  quorum  voces significativæ sint, quid enim, inquit,  in  æquivocatione  dicetur,  ubi  unus  idemque  vocis  modus  plura  significat?  sed  magis  hanc  lectionem  veram  putat,  ut  ita  30  sit:  quorum  autem  hæc  primorum  notæ,  hæ  omnibus  passiones  animæ et quorumhæ similitudines, res etiam hæ: ut demonstratio vi-  4 hæ codices animæ sunt codices quarum b: quorum codices  homines  F,  corr.  F2  res  quoq.  b  sunt  F    autem  ovi.deatur quorum voces significativæ sint vel quorum passiones animæ similitudines, et lioc simpliciter accipiendum  est  secundum  Her minum,  ut  ita  dicamus:  quorum  voces  significativæ  sunt,  illæ sunt  animæ passiones,  tamquam  diceret:  animæ  passiones  sunt,  quas  significant  voces,  et  rursus  quorum  sunt  similitudines  ea  quæ  intellectibus  continentur,  illæ  sunt  res,  tamquam  si  dixisset:  res  sunt  quas  significant  intellectus.  sed  Porphyrius  de  utrisque  acute  subtiliterque iudicat  et  Alexandri  magis  sententiam  probat,  hoc  quod  dicat  non  debere  dissimulari  de  multiplici  æquivocationis  significatione,  nam  et  qui  dicit  ad  unam  quamlibet  rem  commodat  animum,  scilicet  quam  intellegens voce  declarat,  et  unum  rursus  intellectum  quemlibet  is  qui  audit  exspectat,  quod  si,  cum  uterque ex  uno  nomine  res  diversas  intellegunt,  ille  qui  nomen æquivocum  dixit  designet  clarius,  quid  illo  nomine  significare  voluerit,  accipit  mox  qui  audit  et  ad  unum  intellectum  utrique  conveniunt,  qui  rursus  fit  unus  apud  eosdem  illos  apud  quos  primo diversæ fuerant  animæ  passiones  propter  æquivocationem  nominis.  neque  enim  fieri  potest,  ut  qui  voces POSITIONE SIGNIFICANTES A NATVRA eo  distinxerit  quod  easdem  apud  omnes  esse  non  diceret,  eas  res  quas  esse  naturaliter proponebat  non  eo  tales  esse  monstraret,  quod  apud  omnes  easdem  esse  contenderet,  quocirca  Alexander  vel  propria sententia vel Porphyrii auctoritate probandus est.  sed quoniam ita dixit Aristoteles: quorum autem hæc primorum notæ,  eædem omnibus passiones animæ sunt,  quærit Ale-   .   suptiliterq. SE 11 hoc dei. S2, om. F  quod  F:   quo  STEGN,  quoque  E2  dicit  E2    voce  eras,  in  F  utrique? 17 designat T quod T  nomen S1  distinxerint T quos (suprascr.  d)  S, qui  (in  marg.  quod)  T    eas]  is?    demonstraret  T  pro  porphirii  E    hæ  codices  I  c.  1.  x  and  er:  si  rerum  nomina  sunt,  quid  causæ  est  ut  primorum  intellectuum  notas  esse  voces  diceret  Aristoteles?  rei  enim  ponitur  nome,  ut  cum  dicimus  “homo” SIGNIFICAMUS (ROMANI) quidem intellectum, rei tamen nomen est id est animalis rationalis mortalis, cur ergo non primarum magis rerum notæ sint voces quibus ponuntur potius quam intellectuum? sed fortasse quidem ob  hoc dictum est, inquit, quod licet voces rerum nomina sint, tamen non idcirco utimur vocibus, ut res significemus, sed ut eas quæ ex rebus nobis io innatæ sunt animæ passiones, quocirca propter quorum significantiam voces ipsæ proferuntur, recte eorum primorum esse dixit notas, in hoc vero Aspasius permolestus est. ait enim: qui  fieri  potest,  ut  eædem  apud  omnes  passiones  animæ  sint,  cum  tam  diversa  sententia  de  iusto  ac  bono  sit?  arbitratur  Aristotelem  passiones  animæ  non  de  rebus  incorporalibus,  sed  de  his  tantum  quæ  sensibus  capi  possunt  passiones  animæ  dixisse,  quod  perfalsum  est.  neque  enim umquam intellexisse  dicetur,  qui  fallitur,  et  fortasse  quidem  passionem  animi  habuisse  dicetur, quicumque id quod est bonum non eodem modo quo est, sed aliter ARBITRATVR, intellexisse vero non dicitur. Aristoteles autem cum de similitudine loquitur, de intellectu pronuntiat, neque enim fieri potest, ut qui quod bonum est malum esse arbitratur boni similitudinem mente conceperit, neque enim intellexit rem subiectam. sed quæ sunt iusta ac bona ad positionem omnia naturamve  referuntur,  et  si  de  iusto  ac  bono ita loquitur, ut de  eo  quod  civile  ius  aut  civilis  in-  1  quod  T  causa  S  F    dixerit  b   pro  tamen:  quidem  T    sunt  E,  corr.  E2    quidem  post  dictum  F  10  nris  STE  (corr.  S2E2)    sint  S  præter  T esse prim.  F   id  S, cum  id  TE  (cum  dei.  E2)  quidem  (pro  quod  est)  T  quo  S2F2:  quod  SFTE    dicetur?   si  om.  S1  ita  om.  F1 iuria  dicitur,  recte  non  eædem  sunt  passiones  animæ,  quoniam  civile  ius  et  civile  bonum  positione  est,  non  natura,  naturale  vero  bonum  atque  iustum  apud  omnes  gentes  idem  est.  et  de  deo  quoque  idem:  cuius quamvis  diversa  cultura  sit,  idem  tamen  cuiusdam  eminentissimæ  naturæ  est  intellectus,  quare  repetendum  breviter  a  principio  est.  partibus  enim  ad  orationem  usque  pervenit:  nam  quod  se  prius  quid  esset  verbum,  quid  nomen  constituere  dixit,  hæ  minimaæ orationis  partes  sunt;  quod  vero  adfirmationem  et  negationem,  iam  de  conposita  ex verbis et  nominibus  oratione  loquitur,  quæ  eædem  rursus  partes  sunt  enuntiationis,  et  post  enuntiationis  propositionem  de  oratione  loqui  proposuit,  cuius  ipsa  quoque  enuntiatio,  pars  est.  et  quoniam  ut  dictum  est  triplex  est  oratio,  quæ  in  litteris,  quæ  in  voce,  quæ  in  intellectibus  est,  qui  verbum  et  nomen  definiturus  esset  eaque  significativa  positurus,  dicit  prius  quorum  significativa  sint  ipsa  verba  et  nomina  et  incohat  quidem  ab  his  nominibus  et  verbis  quæ  sunt  in  voce  dicens:  sunt  ergo  ea  quæ  sunt  in  voce  et  demonstrat  quorum  sint SIGNIFICATIVA adiciens  earum  quæ  sunt  in  anima  passionum  notæ.  rursus  nominum ipsorum  verborumque  quæ  in  voce  sunt  ea  verba  et  nomina  quæ  essent  in  litteris  constituta  significativa  esse  declarat  dicens  et  ea  quæ  scribuntur  eorum  quæ  sunt  in  voce,  et  quoniam  quattuor  ista  quædam  sunt:  litteræ,  voces,  intellectus,  res,  quorum  litteræ  et  voces  positione  sunt,  natura  vero  res  atque intellectus,  demonstravit  voces  non  esse  naturaliter,  sed  positione  per  hoc  quod  ait  non  easdem  esse  apud  omnes,  sed  varias,  ut  est  et  quemadmodum  nec   1  non  recte  F    a  ego  add.:  om.  codices  8  quod  om.  T 15.  16  or.  est  F  16  postrem. in om. FE    ea  quæ  FE  positurus  b:  positurus  est codices    sign.  sint  F  eorum  SFE    litteras  et  voces?    per  om.  SFT  quod  b:  quo///F,  quo  STE I  c.  .  litteræ  omnibus  eædem,  sic  nec  voces  eædem.  ut  vero  demonstraret  intellectus  et  res  esse  naturaliter,  ait  apud  omnes  eosdem  esse  intellectus,  quorum  essent  voces  significativæ,  et  rursus  apud  omnes easdem  esse  res,  quarum  similitudines  essent  animæ  passiones,  ut  est  quorum  autem  hæc  primorum  notæ,  scilicet  quæ  sunt  in  voce,  eædem  omnibus  passiones  animæ  et  quorum  hæ  similitudines,  res  etiam  eædem,  passiones  autem  animæ  dixit,  quoniam  alias  diligenter  ostensum  est  omnem  vocem  animalis  aut ex passione animæ aut propter passionem proferri, similitudinem vero passionem animæ vocavit, quod secundum LIZIO nihil aliud  intellegere  nisi  cuiuslibet  subiectæ  rei  proprietatem  atque  imaginationem  in animæ ipsius  reputatione suscipere, de quibus animæ passionibus in libris se de anima commemorat diligentius disputasse, sed quoniam demonstratum  est,  quoniam  et verba et nomina et oratio intellectuum  principaliter  significativa  sunt,  quidquid  est  in  voce  significationis  ab  intellectibus  venit,  quare  prius  paululum  de  intellectibus  perspiciendum  ei  qui  recte  aliquid  de  vocibus  disputabit,  ergo  quod  supra  passiones  animæ  et  similitudines  vocavit,  idem  nunc  apertius  intellectum  vocat  dicens:   Est  autem,  quemadmodum  in  anima  aliquotiens  quidem  intellectus  sine  vero  vel  falso,  aliquotiens  autem  cui  iam  necesse  est  horum  alterum  inesse,  sic  etiam  in  voce;  circa  conpositionem  enim  et  divisionem  est  falsitas  veri-   .   eædem  v.  codices    et]  ut  intellectus esse quarum b: quorum codices 6 hæc E Ar. : hæ Eet  ceteri  8  animæ  sunt  codices  aliud  S:  aliud  est  est  aliud  TE ait. quon.]  quomodo  E  22  perspiciendum  S:  persp.  est S2FTE  de  om.  SF    disputauit  S^F1TE  28  cui  Ar.  <p  cf.  ed.  I:  cum  codices  30  autem falsitas veritasq; veritas  fals. ceteri SECVNDA EDITIO tasque. nomina igitur ipsa et verba consimilia  sunt  sine  conpositione  vel  divisione  intellectui, ut homo vel album, quando  non  additur  aliquid;  neque  enim  adhuc  verum  aut  falsum  est.  huius  autem  signum  hoc  est:  hircocervus  enim  significat  aliquid, sed nondum verum vel falsum, si non vel esse vel non esse addatur, vel  simpliciter  vel  secundum  tempus. Pietro Caramello. Keywords: interpretare, peryermeneias, Aquino, blityri – blythyri SG blithyri NT blythiri EF? (in fine suprascr. S F)”. “signatiuis” “significativis” garalus  garulus F. --  Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Caramello” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Caramello.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carando: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale di Socrate – scuola di Pettinengo – filosofia piemontese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi  Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Pettinengo). Filosofo piemontese. Filosofo italiano. Pettinengo, Biella, Piemonte. 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 enhanced 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 disfiguring 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' continuation 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 overturning 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 noteworthy 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 opportunity to link him with the act since he was already suspected of pro¬faning the Eleusian Mysteries and of generally having a hybristic disregard 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, particularly 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. However, 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 forthcoming, 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 nearby island to levy funds. He left instructions not to engage the enemy  under any circumstances, but during his absence a battle was fought nonetheless. 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 appearances, 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      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 improving 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 circumstances in which they found themselves, but as these were decidedly different, so too were their manners of adaptation. Socrates remained exclusively 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 conformity with all major Athenian conventions, Socrates was st  ill considered 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 contemptuous 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 relationship 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 hemlock, 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 unlikely 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 extraordinary 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 reflecting 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 comprehend 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 themselves 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 significance 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 persuading 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 constituted 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 between 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 disbelief 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 explored 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 something 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 attractiveness. 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 representing 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 experiences 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 repercussions 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 maintain 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. Accordingly, 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 influenced 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 transforms 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 comprehensive 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 particularly 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 appears, 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 understanding 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 participant, as there might be were they to insult or publicly challenge someone's authority. Conventional piety and civic-mindedness need place no  limitations on the depth of the inquiry; the only limits are those implicit 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 participation, 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 before 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 perhaps 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 differentiate 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 impossible 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 attesting 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 conceivably 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 importance 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 understanding 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 concerned 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 reflection 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 suggests that there is a special need to have reasons presented. Perhaps  Alkibiades' understanding of his own feelings either is wrong or insufficient; 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 purportedly 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 significantly 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, including 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 inappropriateness 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 bothering 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 released 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 possible 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 important 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 understanding 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      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 discourse 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 careful 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 circumstances. 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 considered 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 interlocutor (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 important 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, prefacing 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 platform, 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 considerations 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 effective 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 inquiry 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 something altogether different, such as entertainment through reading a  story, one may discover that another way of life is better. The argument 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. Propaganda 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 importance 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 unrelated) 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 influence 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 importantly 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 consideration 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. 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 unfortunate 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 comprehensive '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 unlawful 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, 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 cannot. 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 answering but in fact points out an important example to the contrary. The  Greek language is taught by the many quite capably even though they cannot 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 exemplifies 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 distinguishes 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 someone 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 (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). 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 individual, 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 concerning 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 possibility 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 responsible 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, moreover, 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 referred 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 arguments 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      [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. The just and the advantageous are not the same, for great injustices 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.   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 encounter 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 concerning 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 influences 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 themselves. 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 persuades 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 sentiments - 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 proposing 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      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     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 inconsistently maintain in speech what they do not uphold in deed. This is  the most immediate level on which to recognize the problem of the relation 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, 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. Something 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 understand 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 conclusions 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 performing 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 advantageous. 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. 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. 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 required 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 distinction. 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 reformulation 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 continually 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 contradictory 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 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 perceive 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 enlighten 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 considerations 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 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 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, 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 implicit 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 differentiates 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 conclusion 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 concede the necessity of looking toward the best man.   The argument to counter this position is importantly epistemological. 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 understandable, 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 (geographic 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 proceeds naturally from local victory through stages toward world championship, 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 someone 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 recognizing 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 surpass 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 satisfied 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 compared, 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 discussions 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 schooling; indeed, it suggests virtually everything that affects one's upbringing. The importance of this facet in the development of a man's  nature becomes more obvious when one remembers the different characteristics 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 superficially; 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 provides 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; Statesman). 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 suggesting 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 useful at this point. Daidalos was a legendary ingenious craftsman, inventor 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).   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 fourteen 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 possibilities) . 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 suspects 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 somehow 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. Without 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 understand precisely how it is accomplished.   The question of what is to be taught leads readily to a consideration 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 qualification for teaching (or for the knowledge requisite for teaching). Agreement 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 difficulty 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, disclosing 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 unless 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), 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. 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 indication 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 refused 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 requires 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 regarding 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 connected 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 combination 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 characteristics. 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. 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 surrounding 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, including 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). If, on the other hand, it requires completely different 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 contradictions 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 importance. 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 powerful; 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 expression 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 mentions 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 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 consideration 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 especially interesting is the significance of these opening lines for the  themes of the First Alkibiades . The first speaker in the Republic provides 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 suggest 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. Presumably, 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.) Perhaps 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 combat 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 remarks 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 horsemanship, 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 meaningful 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 discussing 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. 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 controlled 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 players who lead singers and employ dancers; Alkibiades means ruling  men who share life as fellow citizens and conduct business. Socrates inquires 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 discovered 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 something 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 extent 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 performing in unison . Perhaps political rule is properly understood as involving 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.   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 friendship 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 involved with more than mere life, but is aiming at the good life, mere  preservation of the citizens is not sufficient. Socrates' subtle transformation 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. 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 (maybe 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 inquires if he means agreement or disagreement by friendship. Alkibiades  replies that agreement is meant, but one must notice that this significantly 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 themselves" and states agreed, with regard to speaking Greek, or more precisely, 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 circumstances, 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 provide 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 relationships. 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 performing 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 friendship, 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, perhaps 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 understanding 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 compatible. 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 correct 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 answering 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) 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 recognize 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 compare 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 understanding of the First Alkibiades is that Socrates has succeeded in convincing 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 argument that taking proper care of one's belongings is an art different from  care of oneself (128d). But perhaps one should survey the entire argument 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 belongings 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. Already 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 combined 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"  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. 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 introduction 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 highmindedness 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 remain. 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.   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 utterances. 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 greathearted Erekhtheos," as one like no other born on earth for the arrangement 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 belongings 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 exercises 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 belongs 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 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. 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 opportunity 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 belongings 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.   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. These others, it seems, would  be doctors and gymnastics trainers - the only experts of the body explicitly recognized in the dialogue. Remembering that neither doctor or  trainer knows himself, 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. Someone 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 discussion of the one techne that presides over all the bodies and belongings. 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 circumstances 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 understood 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 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 godless 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 hierarchically 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 ambiguous 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 importance 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 existence 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. Dissenters 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 disbelief in religious authority in the interests of those in the community  who depend on religious conviction for their good conduct. Most consider 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 contrary, 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 concern 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 concern. 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 important to the life of knowledge. Both play a part in Alkibiades' education 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 friendship 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. Throughout the discussion 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. In addition, at yet another level, it has been frequently observed 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 flattering 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' unquenchable 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 intensity 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 implicitly 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 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 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 insufficient, and that I was in a position to remedy that inadequacy. As  a rule of thumb in interpretation one should not begin with such presuppositions. 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. We are also told she had dresses worth fifty minae. 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 (henceforth 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 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. Plato, Symposium 220e-221c; Plutarch VII. 4; Diadoros cf. Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War. Thucydudes, Cf. also Plutarch, Plutarch, XIV. 6-9; Thucydides Plutarch, XIII. 3-5. Cf. Aristotle's discussion in his  Politics, Thucydides, Diodoros, Thucydides, Thucydides, Plutarch, XVIII. 1-2; Thucydides.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, Thucydides,  Plutarch, Thucydides, Thucydides,   VI. 48-50.  Thucydides, Thucydides,  Plutarch, Diodoros, Thucydides, Plutarch, Thucydides, Plutarch, Thucydides, Thucydides, Plutarch; cf. also Plato, Alkibiades, where Plato's mention might provide some support for a claim that the  motive was other than lust.   35. Thucydides, Plutarch, Plutarch, Thucydides, Diodoros, XIII. 41. iv-42iii; Plutarch, Thucydides Thucydides, Thucydides, VIII. 97. For an excellent and beautiful examination of this in Thucydides, read Leo Strauss, "Preliminary Observations of  the Gods in Thucydides' Work." INTERPRETATION, Nijhoff, The Hague, Netherlands. Plutarch, Xenophon,   Hellenika, Diodoros Xenophon,   Hellenika, I, i, 9-10; Plutarch, Xenophon,   Hellenika,  Xenophon,   Hellenika, I, iv, 8-17; Plutarch, Xenophon,   Hellenika, I, iv, 20-21; Plutarch,Plutarch, Diodoros, Plutarch, Xenophon, Hellenika I, v, 11-16; Plutarch, Plutarch, Diodoros, Plutarch. 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; cf. Aristophanes, Clouds, Plato, Symposium,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. Cf. for example: Plato, Gorgias 500c, Aristotle, Politics  1324a24 ff., Rousseau, Social Contract, Marx, Theses on Feuerbach, Hobbes, Leviathan, edited by C. B. MacPherson, Pelican Books,  Middlesex 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 connection 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, 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 speaking 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 speculation 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. 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 understanding the thing. The prescientific, or common-sensical, understanding  of things is a teleological one. The superior/ideal/proper characteristic 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. For  this kind of detailed information, I found the Word Index to Plato, by 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). 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 (perhaps indeed the one Socrates is suggesting to Alkibiades) can be understood 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. 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. Cf. Republic. 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. 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 invites 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. 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 display 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.  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 demands 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. Presumably 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. However, when it is an extreme question of health - e.g.,  starvation, a plague - a question of life or death, they do. The condition 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; 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. 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. Perhaps he is implying a difference between power and actual military  capability. 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. 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, 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). 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) is in the Republic 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. The reader of the dialogue has already been reminded of the  Allegory of the Cave, also in the context of nurture. Sydenham, Works of Plato, 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: "[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. 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 reputation. 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. This is not intended to challenge Prof. Bloom's interpretation ( The Republic of Plato, p. 311). As far as I am capable of understanding 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. 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 [citato da H. P. Grice] 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. 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. 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 quasitemperance based on right opinion?   127. This is what Socrates' anonymous companion at the beginning  of Protagoras suggests to Socrates with respect to Alkibiades. 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;   Laws 772a, 833c, 854d, 873b, 925a; Kratylos 403b; Phaidros;   Menexenos; Statesman; Sophist. This word for release, apallattetai, has only been used  for the release of eros to this point in the dialogue. 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. 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.  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 interplay 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. 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. 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 statement. 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, The King James BIBLE. Nashville, U.S.A.: Kedeka,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, 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, Churchill, Winston. Great Contemporaries . London: Macmillan; Craig, Leon H. An Introduction to Plato's Republic . Edmonton: printed  and bound by the University of Alberta,  de Romilly, Jacqueline. Thucydides and Athenian Imperialism . Translated  by Philip Thody. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, Diodorus Siculus. Diodorus of Sicily . Tr. Oldfather;  Loeb Classical Library, London: Heinemann,  Friedlander, Plato, New York: Bollingen  Series, 1958.   Grene, David; and Richmond Lattimore, eds. The Complete Greek Tragedies .  Aeschylus I, tr. Lattimore; Euripides I, translated by  Lattimore. Chicago, Grote. Plat o and the Other Companions of Sokrates . London:  John Murray, 1885.   Hamilton and Cairns. Plato: The Collected Dialogues . Princeton, Bollingen Series, Hammond and Scullard, The Oxford Classical  Dictionary, Clarendon, Herodotus. The Histories . Tr. Powell; Oxford, Hesiod. Hesiod . Tr. Lattimore. Ann Arbor: Michigan; Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan . Ed. Macpherson. Middlesex,  England: Pelican, Homer. Iliad . Translated by Richmond Lattimore. New York: Harper and  Row, Homer. Odyssey . Translated by Richard Lattimore. New York: Harper and  Row, Jensen, Nietzsche and Liberation: The Prelude to a Philosophy  of the Future," Interpretation . 6:2. The Hague: Nijhoff,  Jowett, B., ed. The Dialogues of Plato Translated by Jowett. Oxford: Oxford University Press, Clarendon Press, MACHIAVELLO MACHIAVELLI (si veda), The Prince . Tr. and ed. by Musa. New  York: St. Martin's.   Marx, Theses on Feuerbach," The Marx-Engels Reader . Ed. Tucker. New Tork: Norton, McKeon, Richard, ed. The Basic Works of Aristotle . New York: Random  House, Olympiodorus. Commentary on the First Alkibiades of Plato. Critical  texts and Indices by L. G. Wes ter ink'. Amsterdam:‘ North-Holland,O'Neill, William. Proclus: Alkibiades I A Translation and Commentary. The Hague: Nijhoff, Paulys-Wissowa. Real-Encyclopoedie der Classischen Altertumswissenschaft .  Stuttgart: Metzler Buchhandlung, Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes . Loeb Classical Library; translated by  R. G. Bury, H. N. Fowler, W. Lamb, P. Shorey; London: Heinemann,  Plutarch. Lives . Loeb Classical Library,  tr. Perrin. London: Heinemann,  Rousseau, J.-J. The Social Contract . Translated and edited by R. Masters  and J. Masters. New York: St. Martin's, RYLE (citato da H. P. Grice), Plato's Progress. Cambridge, Schleiermacher. Introduction to the Dialogues of Plato . Translated by  W. Dobson. Cambridge: J. et j. j. Deighton, Shorey, Paul. What Plato Said . Chicago: University of Chicago Press,  1933.   Solzhenitsyn, A. "Harvard Commencement Address." Harvard, Strauss, Leo. "Preliminary Observations of the Gods in Thucydides Work,"  Interpretation, 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, 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. 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carapelle: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale – linguaggio e metafilosofia – linguaggio oggetto – meta-linguaggio – Peano – Tarski 1944 – bootstrapping – scula di Napoli – filosofia napoletana – filosofia campanese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Napoli). Filosofo napoletano. Filosofia campanese. Filosofo italiano. Napoli, Campania. 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 (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. 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 C., 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 C.  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 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 matematica. Questo germinale orientamento, unito a una sensibilità religiosa che non tarderà a manifestarsi, ebbe come primo e scontato effetto di allontanare C. dall'area neo-idealistica, il cui radicale immanentismo, la esclusione dei concetti di peccato e di grazia e l'avversione per ogni for-  P. Filiasi C., 17 ruolo della metodologia nel rinnovamento della filo­ sofia contemporanea, La filosofia contemporanea in Italia. Invito al dialogo, Asti, Arethusa.  ma di naturalismo, non potevano in alcun modo essere accettati. 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, 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»; * P; Filiasi Carcano, // ruolo della metodologia, Cfr.  C., 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 C. vede 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 d’Husserl. Scri­ ve Angiolo Maros Dell'Oro: A un certo punto si intromise Husserl. C. pensa, o spera, che là fenomenologia sarebbe stata la scienza delle scienze – REGINA SCIENTIARVM – Grice --, 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. Sùbito rifiutata, in realtà, come idealismo metafisico, quale eira frettolo­ samente spacciata in certe grossolane versioni del tempo (non esclusa, lo abbiamo 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 C. 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. d’Aliotta, Roma, Perrella,  Cf. Il pensiero scientifico ìtt Italia 'Creiriòria, Màngiarotti; Cfr. Cartario/ Da Carierò'ad H«w&f/,:« Ricerche filosofìche. In piena coscienza,  scrive il filosofo 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. 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 FC. 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 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 contemporaneo. D'altro canto, si diceva, non è neppure precluso a questo program- C., Crisi della civiltà; C., Anti-metafisica 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 C. 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 C. 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. 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 Mazzantini; il secondo è Annibale Pastore ne parleremo ora  che teneva nell'ateneo torinese la cattedra di filosofia teoretica; C.,. Crisi.della civiltà,:;  C., Anti-metafisica e sperimentalismo. Apparently, Hilbert is the first to use the prefix meta (from the Greek over) in the sense we use it in meta-language, meta-theory, and now meta-system. Hilbert introduces the term meta-mathematics 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 language 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 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 di Montaltino de Carapelle, quarto duca di Montaltino. 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carbonara: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale l’esperienza e la prassi – Cicerone e il pratico – scuola di Potenza – filosofia basilicatese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Potenza). Filosofo basilicatese. Filosofo italiano. Potenza, Basilicata. 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 parentesi 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 traduttore 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 involontariamente 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 sconsigliava 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 fìlosofico 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 sconvolto 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 inabissata 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 immensa 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 italiani, 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 qualunque 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 specialmente 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 essenzialmente teutoniche del suo pensiero, al regno della ragione, 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 razionale 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 discorso 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 dogmatismo, 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 passività; 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 producendo 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 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 subirono modificazioni, queste riguardano non il suo pensiero 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 entusiasmo 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 rivoluzione 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 appunto 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 Fichte antisemita e anti-militarista: antisemita contro quegl’ebrei che sono refrattari ad assimilarsi alle nazioni in mezzo a cui pluvi vono anti-militarista contro l’esercito del suo tempo  che mette il proprio onore nella propria umiliazione e trova nell’impunità per le sue angherie contro i borghesi e i contadini un compenso  ai pesi del proprio stato. E continua.  Il più brutale semi-barbaro  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 politica che, scaturita interamente, oltreché dal pensiero kantiano, 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’anione 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 CONTRATO SOCIALE – “un mito” – H. P. Grice -- da cui è uscito lo Stato. Nello Stato il potere legislativo 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 naturali 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 impedire 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. 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 perpetua 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 acquistare 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 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’ingiustizia 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 popolim 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 allarga, estendendosi a  poco a poco su tutta la terra, tanto meglio è 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 politica, 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 ammettere 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 disegno 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 primavera. ISIS, che non interamente a torto si è potuto considerare 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 assegnava 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 confortevole 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’esposizione prettamente storica e serenamente obiettiva di tutta la filosofia 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 dedica al suo soggetto 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 imperialistici non cessa io Germania col conseguimento dell'unità tedesca. Più di una volta le conferenze tenute nelle università tedesche in occasione del natalizio dell’imperatore hanno avuto per argomento preferito la personalità o qualche dottrina particolare di Fichte: per es.,  all’università di Strasburgo, terra di conquista, Windelband fa un’alta affermazione di germanismo parlando dell’idea dello stato tedesco secondo Fichte; Windelband, Fiehte's Idee des dentschen Stante, Freiburg i. Breisgau. All’università di  Kiel, Martius inneggia al cinquantesimo anno di Guglielmo II,  ricordando la vita e l’opera d’un uomo, il quale grandemente  co-opera all’elevazione e all’emancipazione delle forze morali della Germania, e della cui azione efficacissima, insieme e accanto alla concezione politica dello Stein, ricorre oggi il centenario; d’un uomo, a  cui appunto ora la nazione tedosca si appresta a dimostrare la propria gratitudine inalzandogli un monumento nella capitale [e il monumento è poi sorto a Berlino], insomma, di Fichte,  (Redc zur Feier des Geburtstages seiner Majeshit des Deutschen Kaisers Kdttigs von Preiissen Wilhelm 11 von Golz Martius, Kiel). Se 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 teoretici del sistema, è non meno unilaterale di quello che  continuarono a presentare, in tempi più recenti, le dissertazioni te le monografie sulla dottrina giuridico-sociale del [Ricordiamo, per es.: Lòwio, Die Philosophie Fichte’s iiach  (lini Gesaimntergehnisse ihrer EntuHchelung und in ihrem Verhiiltnitise zìi Kant unii Spinosa, Stuttgart [l’Autore, seguace del  dualismo de[ Giintlior e perciò d’indirizzo radicalmente opposto a  tinello di Fichte, mira specialmente a mostrare la logica coerenza in  cui le due diverse forme assunte dal sistema fichtiauo stanno al principio 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 ricordato 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 teoretica, 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 filosofico, 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 a 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 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 concezione 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 di 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 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 volumetti della stessa Biblioteca, riguardanti, sebbene con intento puramente 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 in 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 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’inspiration 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 vigoureux, 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 teoretici e pratici. Esso è non solo uno nel suo insieme e omogeneo nelle sue parti, ma universale: tutte le grandi questioni 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 influsso 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, Geschichte 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 conoscere 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 trasforma 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 incognita 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 sopprimerlo 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’io, il mondo, il tu.  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 inesauribile, 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 relazione di antitesi e sintesi tra soggettivo e oggettivo che è la coscienza, 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 intuizioni 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 rappresentazioni, il rispecchiarsi dell’ lo nell’/o. Ma anche questo 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 rappresentazioni 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 eternamente 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 di 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 scientifico, 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  (Selbstbeiousstsein)  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 fondamento 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’eliminazione della cosa in sè ecco nella filosofia di 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 di Fichte non è che una delle direzioni che poteva prendere il kantismo. La direzione fichtiana, quindi, scaturisce naturalmente dalle premesse kantiane, ma non deve considerarsi perciò, come vuole  Leon, quasi l’unico e necessario completamento del kantismo. Altre  direzioni, assai divergenti dalla fichtiana, l'anno capo legittimamente aneli’esse a Kant, dei cui discepoli può ripetersi ciò che CICERONE (si veda) diceva dei diversi discepoli di Socrate: ALII ALIVII SVINPSENVIT. Fichte è un kantiano — Grice un hardieiano -- all’incirca nel medesimo senso che L’ACCADEMIA è socratica, e sta allo Spinoza come Platone a VELIA (si veda)e; con  Kaut afferma l’ideale morale, con 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 di 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 Kant già proclama, 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 entusiasmo. li mondo può comprendersi soltanto in base allo spirito e  lo spirito soltanto in base alla volontà. La dottrina di 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 uell’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 conversando 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 -- Gegenstand, oggetto, è qui  preso come sinonimo di Widerstund, resistenza. L’oggettività esiste soltanto per essere la materia indispensabile 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 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’ attuazione 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 principio 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 soltanto allora è possibile, quando si abbia un punto in cui  il soggettivo e l’oggettivo, l’essere in sè e la rappresentazione 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 cosciente 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 coscienza 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 rappresentazione 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  l’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 considerato 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 coscienza e ridotti all' unità, all’ unico assoluto su cui si tonda  ogni coscienza e ogni essere, all 'attività pura. Questa attività, 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 principio 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 quell’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 del1’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, costituirebbe 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. da 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 supporre 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. 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 essere 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 fichtiano – cf. l’io griceino – Fichte’s I, Grice’s I -- 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 immediatamente 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’essere 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’esistenza 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 propria 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 PIÙ 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 sforziamo 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 godimento, 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 immediato dallo stato di pura natura allo stato di coscienza riflessa, 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 perseguire 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, essendo 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, tuttavia, 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’approssimazione 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 indipendente 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 acquistata 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 assoluta 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 indeterminato a uno stato determinato. L’ io determinante e l’io  determinato scftio un solo e medesimo io, prodotto dalla sintesi 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 sarebbe 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 originario 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 tendenza 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 resistenza, considerata come essenziale all’ io, quindi come immanente, è essa stessa un impulso, l ’impulso purodell’ 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 mediante 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 valore ; 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 riflessione; 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 da 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  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 nell’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 accompagna 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: un dovere negativo : non far mai del proprio  corpo il fine ultimo delle proprie azioni ; un dovere positivo : conservare e coltivare il proprio corpo nell’interesse  della libertà ; 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’intelligenza è condizione materiale veramente interna e di  tutta quanta la sua essenza. Di qui un triplice dovere  anche verso l’intelligenza : 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 ; un dovere positivo : formare l’intelligenza il più possibile ; il più possibile imparare, pensare,  indagare ; 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, essendo 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 æterno (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 VOLONTÀ, 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 dovrebbe 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 nessuna 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 continuare a credervi, è dovere di coscienza associarsi al pubblico dotto. Lo stato italiano e la chiesa debbono tollerare i dotti,  altrimenti violerebbero» te coscienze, perchè nessuna potenza terrena ha il diritto d’imporsi in materia di coscienza. Lo tato 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 critica 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 ordinamenti e i poteri costituiti; Stato e Chiesa hanno il diritto di impedire ciò. Sarebbe un’oppressione della coscienza  proibire al predicatore di esporre in scritti scientifici le  sue convinzioni dissenzienti, ma rientra perfettamente nel1’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 pubblico 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 morale troverebbe la sua espressione nella sublime armonia  di tutti gli esseri ragionevoli e buoni, nella suprema comunione 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 nessuno è fine a se stesso; 1’ attività di ciascuno è semplice  strumento per attuare la ragione. Con che la dignità del1’ uomo non è abbassata, è anzi inalzata, poiché a ciascun  individuo vien affidato il raggiungimento del fine universale della ragione e dalla cura e dall’ attività di lui dipende 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 iudividualità scompare, egli diventa pura rappresentazione della  legge morale nel mondo sensibile, vero Io puro. Errano  di molto coloro che pongono la perfezione in pie meditazioni, 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 comunità : è quindi oblio, abnegazione intera di sè nell’interesse  della totalità degli esseri ragionevoli.   Se cosi è, se l’io empirico o individuale serve solamente 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 immediati e incondizionati, ossia assoluti. Senonchè la promozione 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 nascono 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 necessaria al I attuarsi di quel futuro da cui attendiamo la  soddisfazione implicita nell’oggetto del nostro volere presente, 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 :  un  divieto : evita tutto ciò che, secondo la tua coscienza, può  mettere in pericolo la tua conservazione in quanto strumento 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 suicidio, distruggendo la vita, la sottrae appunto al dominio  della legge ; suicidarsi significa dichiarare di non voler  più adempiere il dovere; 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 semplice strumento della moralità : quindi, dove il fine della  moralità non fosse compatibile col dovere «Iella conservazione, sarebbe moralmente necessario che la vita dell’individuo venisse sacrificata a quel fine, che il dovere coudizionato 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 comanda 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 professione, 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 condizioni 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 condizionato 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 totalità 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: del corpo altrui; della altrui  libertà d’azione: L'inviolabilità del corpo altrui implica; il divieto di esercitare qualsiasi violenza o coercizione 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 [Grice, SNEAKY INTENTIONS] si danneggia la libertà degl’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 VERITÀ. 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 conservazione 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 generale 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 appunto 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 inestirpabile, 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 natura — nel qual caso diconsi naturali  vuoi dalla mobile 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, associazione 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: 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. La relazione tra  genitori e figli dà luogo a due serie inverse di doveri:  da parte dei genitori il dovere di vigilare la vita e la  salute dei loro nati e in pari tempo di suscitare e favorire 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 dovere  che del resto è una specificazione del dovere universale 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 reciproco amore ; 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 indispensabili delle naturali alla vita comune, possono essere stabilite dalla libera scelta dei singoli individui e insieme  costituiscono l’organismo sociale dello Stato: agire direttamente 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’attività degl’ individui per la promozione del fine supremo, si distinguono due specie di classi sociali, con due  corrispondenti specie di doveri di vocazione : classi superiori (scienziati, educatori, artisti, impiegati), che lavo-   t   vano al progresso spirituale della società, e sono, perciò,  quasi 1’ anima dello Stato; classi inferiori (minatori,  agricoltori, artigiani, commercianti) che assicurano 1’ esistenza economica della società e sono, perciò, quasi il  corpo dello &tato. Quali i doveri di vocazione delle classi superiori ? L’ uomo allora soltanto adempirà la sua vera destinazione quando abbia una visione chiara del dovere ; è necessario, dunque, formare anzitutto la sua conoscenza teorica. 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 elabora 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 maniera 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, lezioni 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 cammino della scienza sino al suo tempo: altrimenti egli non  potrebbe nè intendere il significato della verità, uè epurarla dagli errori che 1* offuscano. È inoltre dovere del  dotto amare rigorosamente la verità e lavorare al suo progresso 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 pratico, quando, cioè, alla visione da parte dell’intelligenza  non si aggiunga l’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 servizio 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 conoscenze teoretiche e principi, e tanto meno polemizzarvi  sopra, come si fa nella repubblica dotta; non è loro missione porre articoli di fede o creare la fede — perchè articoli e fède esistono già come legame vivente della comunità 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’educatore morale formare la volontà dell’ uomo : sta tra i due  l’artista, il quale ha il privilegio di educare il senso estetico, 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 : l’arte bella investo e pervade tutta l’anima  in quanto siuLesi di tutte le facoltà. La formula pili espressiva 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 lavoro 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 quest’altra mauiei’a è vederla esteticamente ^ ossia come bellezza. L’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 estetico 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 :  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 ; un comando 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 rigorosamente 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 diffonderà poi nella comunità tutta quanta e trarrà seco, col  suffragio universale, la riforma della costituzione. Il reggitore di uno Stato, quindi, è sempre responsabile dinanzi  al suo popolo del modo ond’egli lo governa, e se può considerarsi 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 attualmente. 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 progredisce ; 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 perfezionamento 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 inferiore e la superiore. Il perfezionamento industriale dipende 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 disprezzai 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 morale, nelle tre parti in  cui si divide, si propone un triplice oggetto e ottiene un  triplice risultato. Anzitutto nella deduzione del principio della moralità 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 causalità, 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 empirici e 1’unico Io puro fornisce il contenuto del dovere e  rende il dovere intelligibile. Il dovere, infatti, è la necessita 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 lascia aperto  tra la conoscenza e la volontà – cf. H. P. Grice, KANTOTLE --, 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 assolutamente 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 ottiene 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 all’infinito. Infine, nel fare 1’applicazione del principio morale, Fichte mostra come il progresso richieda, per compiersi, 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 indispensabile 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 Fichte ottiene trasformando la formula kantiana. Ogni uomo è esso stesso fine in quest’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 risultato, 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’ intellettualismo 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 persuasione 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 categoria della moralità, porta seco la riabilitazione della natura rispetto allo spirito, alla cui attuazione, anziché ostacolo, è condizione e mezzo. Senza la natura vedemmo   mancherebbe allo spirito l’oggetto su cui esercitare la propria 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 strumento 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 nemmeno con l’apoteosi della natura e del corpo celebrata dall’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: 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, riponendo 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 individuale 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 caratteristica 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 procurare 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 finire 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 soltanto 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 simili alla moralità. Ciascuno deve proporsi non la propria  felicità, e nemmeno soltanto la propria libertà e indipendenza 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 sacrifizi, senz’ altro stimolo che il puro amore del dovere,  senz’ altra gioia che quella di avere colla propria abnegazione 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, secondo 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 considera auche prescindendo da ogni rapporto con noi stessi, siamo portati a vedere fuori di uoi una collettività in cui nessuno può lavorare 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 rimangono, 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 incompiuto. 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 integralmente 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’essere. Ciò che si suoi chiamare morte non può interrompere 1’ opera  mia; perchè l’opera mia dev’essere compiuta, e non può essere compiuta 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. Irrompete tutti su di me, e tu, cielo, e tu, terra, precipitate in un selvaggio 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 trad. franc., di Nicolas, De la destinatimi da savant et de l'liomine de lettres par 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 (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 fondamentali della dottrina liclitiana  èprofondamente 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carbone: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatrua conversazionale – scuola di Mantova – filosofia lombarda -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Mantova). Filosofia lombarda. Filosofo italiano. Mantova, Lombardia. 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). -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 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carboni: la ragione conversazionale e 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 – scuola di Livorno – filosofia toscana -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library  (Livorno). Filosofo toscano. Filosofo italiano. Livorno, Toscana. 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: “Free” Art Education and the Advent of the Liberal State, Martin Myrone Drawing after the Antique at the British Museum: “Free” Art Education and the Advent of the Liberal State; Myrone. 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. 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. Thanks to Hallett and 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: “Free” Art Education and the Advent of the Liberal State", British Art Studies, Issue 5, 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. 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. 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——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 et 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, et that an Academician shall attend each day at the Museum et 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 et 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, et 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 et 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 et 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 et hung up in the Hall, et 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 et Museum. Digital image courtesy of Wiliamson Art Gallery et 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, et 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, et 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 et 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, et July, et 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 et 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 et September some one of the several Officers of the Museum, then in Residence, do (according to a Rotation to be agreed upon by themselves et 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 Pascalian Meditations. Trans. Richard Nice. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press,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 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 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 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 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, 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 William Etty: Art and Controversy, ed. Sarah Burnage, Mark Hallett, and Laura 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). Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 2002. Rancière, Jacques. The Method of Equality: Interviews with Laurent Jeanpierre and Dork Zabunyan. Trans. Julie Rose. Cambridge: Polity Press, 2016. Schinkel, Karl Friedrich. “English Journey”: Journal of a Visit to France and Britain in 1826. Ed. David Bindman and Gottfried Riemann. New Haven, CT, and London: Yale University Press, 1993. Shanes, Eric. Young Mr Turner: The First Forty Years, 1775–1815. New Haven, CT, and London: 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. “Extracts from the Diary of an Artist. No.V.” The Crayon, 12 December 1855. Whitley, William T. Art in England, 1800–1820. London: Medici Society, 1928.  drawn from the antique Artists et 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 et 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 et 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 Joannides for his input. Any and all errors are entirely our own. We wish to acknowledge warmly 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, 1^st 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 et 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 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 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; 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, 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, 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, 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, 50), Wallerant Vaillant (1623–77, 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 32 and cat. 14). Also frequently depicted are busts of Niobe (see 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 54. Agasias of Ephesus, Borghese Gladiator, c. 100 bc, marble, 199 cm (h), Louvre, Paris, inv. Ma 527 55. Dying Gladiator, Roman copy of a Pergamene original of the 3rd century bc, marble, 93 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. MC0747 49. (top left) Jan ter Borch, The Drawing Lesson, 1634, oil on canvas, 120 × 159 cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, inv. SK-A-1331 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 51. (bottom left) Wallerant Vaillant, The Artist’s Pupil, c. 1668, oil on canvas, 119 × 90 cm, Bonnefantenmuseum, Maastricht, inv. 673 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 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 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 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’ 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, 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 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 60. Carlo Maratti, The Farnese Flora, c. 1645–70, black chalk, 294 × 159 mm, The Royal Collection, Windsor Castle, inv. 904377 61. Carlo Maratti, or Studio of, The Farnese Hercules, c. 1645–70, red chalk, 292 × 165 mm, The Royal Collection, Windsor Castle, inv. 904382 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 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 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 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 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 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, 68. Charles Errard, Antinous Belvedere, plate on 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      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 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 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 2 and Appendix, no. 1); drawings by the sculptor Joseph Nollekens (1737–1823; 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 74. Jacob de Wit, Measured ‘Apollo Belvedere’, plate 8 in Teekenboek der proportien van ‘t menschelyk lighaam, Amsterdam, 1747 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 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 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 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) 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) 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 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 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 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 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 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 83. Jean-Galbert Salvage, Écorché of the ‘Borghese Gladiator’, 1804, plaster, 157 cm (h), École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts, Paris, inv. MU11927 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     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 86. (middle right) Anatomical Figures of the ‘Laocoön’ and of a Small Child, woodblock print, plate in Kawanabe Kyo-sai, Kyosai Gadan. (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 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 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 90. After Augustin Terwesten, The Life Academy at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Berlin, engraved vignette on 217 from Lorenz Beger, Thesaurus Brandenburgicus Selectus...,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 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, 1763,20 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 92, (see also cat. 20, 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; 93).211 Created for the extensive collection of the antiquarian Richard Topham    52 53 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 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, 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 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 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 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 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. 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, 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 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, 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 100. William Hogarth, The Analysis of Beauty (Plate 1), 1753, etching and engraving, 387 × 483 mm, private collection, London 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 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/103/14/621 103. 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    104. David Allan, The Foulis Academy of Art and Design in Glasgow, c. 1760, engraving, 134 × 168 mm, Mitchell Library, Glasgow, inv. GC ILL 156 105. 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. 03/846 106. 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 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. 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. 109. Thomas Couture, La Peinture Réaliste, 1865, oil on panel, 56 × 45 cm, National Gallery of Ireland, Dublin. Hoare 1809, 11. See also Opie 1809,3–52. 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 2000,1. 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 1991,1–29. 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 1991,23–24. Alberti 1972, 53 (book 1, chap. 18). Alberti quotes Protagoras, probably through Diogenes Laertius, De Vitis ... philosophorum, 9.51: Alberti 1991, 53, note 11. On the sources and structure of De Pictura see especially Spencer 1957 and Wright 1984. Alberti 1972, 97 (book 3, chap. 55). Ibid., 101 (book 3, chap. 58). Ibid., 99 (book 3, chap. 55). Ibid., 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, 75 (book 2, chap. 36). See also Alberti 1988, 156 (book 6, chap. 2) and301–09 (book 9, chaps 5–6), esp. 303. On the theory of proportions see Panofsky 1955; R. Klein’s introduction to ‘De Symmetria’ in Gaurico 1969, 76–91; Gerlach 1990. On Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man see Kemp 2006, 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, 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, 257–69; Bignamini and Hornsby 2010. General introductions to drawing techniques in the Renaissance and beyond are Joannides 1983, 11–31; Bambach 1999, esp. 33–80; Ames Lewis 2000a; Petherbridge 2010; London and Florence 2010–11. See Ames-Lewis 2000b, 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, 35–60, 109–40; Jestaz 2000–01; Chapman 2010–11, 46–60. More focused on the 16th century is Barkan 1999. Haskell and Penny 1981, 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, 232–38 (Marcus Aurelius); Paris 2000–01, 200–25 and 417–20, nos 221–24 (Spinario); Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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, 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, 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 1966–87,3, 151–52. See also Micheli 1983, 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, 81–117; Paris, 1996, Appendix IX, ‘Le “Carnet de voyage dessins sur parchemin”’, 465–67; Cavallaro 2005. 26 Rome 1988a, 95–96, no. 24 (A. Cavallaro); Paris 1996, 180–81, no. 100. 27 See Rome 1988a, 158–59, no. 51, see also 155–56, no. 49; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 87, no. 38. 28 Wegner 1966, 88–89, no. 228; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 86–87, no. 38. 29 Weiss 1969. 30 London and New York 1992, 445–48, no. 145 (D. Ekserdjian); Paris 2008–09b, 378–79, no. 159 (C. Elam); Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 207, no. 158iii (158c). 31 Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 207–08, no. 158iii. 32 Alberti 1972, 80–81 (chap. 41). 33 See Lightbown 1986, 140–53, 424–33; Elam 2008–09. 34 For the drawing after the Marcus Aurelius see Rome 1988a, 232–33, no. 80 (A. Nesselrath); Rome 2005, 263, II.10.7, 267–68, no. II.10.7 (A. Nesselrath). For the drawing after the Horse Tamers see Rome 1988a, 211–12, no. 61 (A. Nesselrath); Paris 1996, 153–54, no. 84; Rome 2005, 334, III.8.1, 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, 312. For other mentions in contemporary written sources see Nesselrath 1988, 196–97. 36 Nesselrath 1988, 197, 61; Cole Ahl 1996, 6, pl. 1; Ames-Lewis 2000b, 120, 57; Cavallaro 2005, 330; London and Florence 2010–11, 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, 137, 38; Ames-Lewis 2000b, 121, 59. 38 For a general overview see Weiss 1969, 180–202; Ames-Lewis 2000b, 52–60, 79–85. 39 Gaurico 1969, 62–63; Gaurico 1999, 142–43, providing a less accurate translation. 40 Cennini 1933,2, 123–31. 41 Fiocco 1958–59; Lightbown 1986, 18; Favaretto 1999. On Ghiberti’s col- lection of casts see Ames-Lewis 2000b, 81, with previous bibliography. 42 Ames-Lewis 1995. 43 Fusco 1982; Ames-Lewis 2000b, 52–55. 44 Ragghianti and Dalli Regoli 1975; Ames-Lewis 2000a, 91–123; Forlani- Tempesti 1994. 45 Ames-Lewis 1995, 394, 397, 10. For the practice see Schwartz 2000–01. 46 For an overview see Nesselrath 1984–86. Lists of sketchbooks are provided in Nesselrath 1993, 225–48 and Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 473–96. 47 The first printed edition of Biondo’s Roma Instaurata was published in Rome in 1471: Weiss 1969, esp. 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, 58–68; Parisi Presicce 2014. On Raphael: Becatti 1968; Jones and Penny 1983, 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 1956,1, 51, no. 77. 51 Ibid.,1, 45, no. 59, 64, no. 112. 52 Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87,6, 21. On other sources on the para- gone between Michelangelo and the ancients see Florence 1987, 107–08. 53 Elam 1992; Florence 1992; Joannides 1993; Baldini 1999–2000; Paolucci 2014. 54 Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87,6, 9–12; Condivi 1998, 10–11; Condivi 1999, 10. 55 Knab, Mitsch and Oberhuber 1984, 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, 497–507. 57 For the Nile and the Tiber see Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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 148–51, no. 8, 243–47, no. 52, 184–87, no. 24, 188–89, no. 25, 310–11, no. 79, 272–73, no. 65; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, respectively 76–77, no. 28, 164–68, no. 122, 125–26, no. 79, 180–81, no. 131, 113–14, no. 66, 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, 323–25, no. 87; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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 141–43, no. 4 and 311–14, no. 80; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, respectively 62, no. 10 and 181–84, no. 132. The first mention of Michelangelo’s praise of the Torso is in Aldrovandi 1556, 121. For a selection of other primary sources see Barocchi 1962,4, 2100–03; Agosti and Farinella 1987, 43–44. For the Torso as ‘School of Michelangelo’ see Haskell and Penny 1981, 313. Schwinn 1973, 24–37. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87,6, 108. Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 126, no. 79. Joannides 1983, 192, no. 240r; Knab, Mitsch and Oberhuber 1984, 615, no. 375. In this drawing Raphael also references Michelangelo’s Sistine Adam. Golzio 1971, 38–40, 72–73; Nesselrath 1984. The original Italian is in Camesasca 1994, 257–322 (esp. 290–98); Shearman 2003, 500–45. For an English translation, see Holt 1981–86,1, 289–96. See also Frommel, Ray and Tafuri 1984, 437, no. 3.5.1. (H. Burns and H. Nesselrath). Nesselrath 1982, 357, 37; Frommel, Ray and Tafuri 1984, 422, no. 3.2.10 (A. Nesselrath); Jaffé 1994, 187, no. 315 617*. For the few other surviving Raphael drawings after Roman antiquities see Frommel, Ray and Tafuri 1984, 438, no. 3.5.3 (A. Nesselrath). Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 172–75, no. 125. This consideration is already in Jones and Penny 1983, 205. The practice of measuring classical statues would become widespread from the 17th century onwards: see 46–49 in the present volume. A good selection is in Mantua and Vienna 1999. Check also Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 473–96. Oberhuber 1978; Mantua and Vienna 1999; Viljoen 2001; Pon 2004. Boissard 1597–1602,1, 12–13, translated by Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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 1790–1836,1, cccxxix–cccxxxi, letter XVI. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87,6, 109. An opinion then appropri- ated by Vasari himself in the introduction to his chapter on Sculpture: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87,1, 84–86. This was repeated later by many authors see for instance Lomazzo 1584, 332, reprinted in Lomazzo 1973–74,2, 288. Wilde 1953, 79–80, nos 43–44, pls lxx–lxxi; Agosti and Farinella 1987, 33–36, figs 11–14; Tolnay 1975–80,2, 51–53, nos 230–34; Florence 2002, 150–51, nos 2–5 (P. Joannides); Haarlem and London 2005–06, 64–66. Wilde 1953, 9–10, no. 4, pl. vi; Tolnay 1975–80,1, 58–59, no. 48; Haarlem and London 2005–06, 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, 148, 246; Vetter 1995; Nesselrath 1998b; Winner 1998; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 77, 165. See Haskell and Penny 1981, 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10,3, 17–20, no. 1. On the Wrestlers see Haskell and Penny 1981, 337–39, no. 94; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, 62–63, no. 50 (71). For the Niobe Group see Haskell and Penny 1981, 274–79, no. 66; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, 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, 529. See Haskell and Penny 1981, 16–22. Haskell and Penny 1981, 16–22. On Lafréry see Chicago 2007–08. On Cavalieri see Pizzimano 2001. See Lee 1967, esp. 3–16; Blunt 1978, esp. 137–59; Barasch 2000,1, 203–309. Armenini 1587, 136–37 (book 2, chap. 11). Lee 1967, 7, note 23. See also Weinberg 1961, 361–423. The first commentary appeared only in 1548 and the first Italian translation in 1549. Horace, Ars Poetica, 361. See Lee 1967, esp. 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, 13–14; Panofsky 1968, esp. 85–99; Blunt 1978, 137–59. Also in Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87,1, 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, 10–24. Walters 2014, 57. Whitaker 1997. See for instance Vasari’s comments in the lives of Andrea Mantegna and Battista Franco: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, respectively 3, 549–50 and vol 5, 459–61. Armenini 1587, see esp. 59–60 (book I, chap. 8), 86–89 (book II, chap. 3). See also Lomazzo’s treatment of the Antique: Lomazzo 1584, 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, 42–55; Goldstein 1975; Dempsey 1980; Wa ́zbin ́ski 1987; Barzman 1989; Barzman 2000. On the Carracci Academy see Dempsey 1980; Goldstein 1988, esp. 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, 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, 133. Olmstead Tonelli 1984. Alberti 1604, esp. 2–15. Jack Ward 1972, 17–18; Olmstead Tonelli 1984, 96–97. On the donation of the Salvioni collection of casts in 1598 see Missirini 1823, 73. On the inventories see Lukehart 2009, Appendix 7, esp. 368–69, 371–73, 379–80. On the drawing see Bora 1976, 125, no. 126. Malvasia 1678, 1, 378; Goldstein 1988, esp. 49–50. On this see Meder 1978, 1, 217–95; Amornpichetkul 1984; Bleeke- Byrne 1984; Roman 1984, 91; Bolten 1985, 243. Alberti 1972, 97 (book 3, chap. 55). Alberti 1972, 75 (book 2, chap. 36). Cellini 1731, 156–59. Leonardo 1956, 1, 45, chaps 59–61, and esp. 64, chap. 112; Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 1, 112; Armenini 1587, 51–59, esp. 57 (book 1, chap. 7); See Bleeke-Byrne 1984. Armenini 1587, see esp. 86 (book 2, chap. 3). The necessity of exercising one’s memory recurs in Alberti (Alberti 1972, 99, book 3, chap. 55); Leonardo (Leonardo 1956, 1, 47, chaps 65–66); Vasari (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 1, 114–15); Cellini (Cellini 1731, 157); and Armenini (Armenini 1587, 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, 1, 342–45 (fols 271r–v). See Meijer 1995, 50, note 18. Dacos 1995, 19–20; Dacos 2001, 23–34. Hülsen and Egger 1913–16; Veldman 1977; Dacos 2001, 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, 378–79, no. 184 (C. Scailliérez). On the Marforio see Haskell and Penny 1981, 258–59, no. 57; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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, 59–90. Veldman 2012, 21, with previous bibliography. Reznicek On Rubens in Rome and his approach to the Antique see esp. Stechow 1968; Jaffé 1977, 79–84; Muller 1982; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 41–81; Muller 2004, 18–28; London 2005–06, 88–111. Jaffé 1977, 79; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 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, 1, 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, 1, 69–74. Armenini 1587, see esp. 59–60 (book I, chap. 8), 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, 1, esp. 71, note 11 and 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, 1, 70–71, 2, 56–59, nos 37–39; New York 2005a, 140–44, no. 34. On the Laocoön drawings see: Van der Meulen 1994–95, 2, 98, no. 81, 3, 153 (father), 2, 103–04, no. 93, 3, 164 (son); London 2005– 06, 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, 1, 48; London 2005–06, 90–91, no. 25. Muller 2004, 22; Edinburgh 2002, 43–46, nos 8–14; Wood 2011, 1, 129–241; Cody 2013. Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 80–81. Muller 2004, 22. On Rubens’ collection see Antwerp 2004, with previous bibliography. Jaffé 1977, 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, 2, 267 (Sacchi), 268–69 (Albani); Cesareo 1892, 1, 223–55 (Rosa); Castiglione 2014–15. On Bellori’s condemna- tion see Bellori 1976, 16. On Goubau see Briganti, Trezzani and Laureati 1983, 295–99. On the painting see Paris 2000–01, 382–83, no. 188 (J. Foucart); Cappel- letti 2014–15, 48–50. Vlieghe 1979. On other Dutch artists copying the Antique in Rome in the 17th century see Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 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, 1, 264–65 (fol. 251v). See also Bleeke-Byrne 1984. On the Antwerp Academy see Pevsner 1940, 126–29; Van Looij 1989. See Emmens 1968, 154–59; Bleeke-Byrne 1984, 30, 38, notes 76–77. Van Mander 1994–99, 1, 448–49 (fol. 297v); Bolten 1985, 248. De Klerk 1989. Bolten 1985, 248–50. For Bisschop’s school see Van Gelder 1972, 11. Bolten 1985. Bolten 1985, 119, 131, 133–34, 141, 143, 153, 157, 188–207, 243–56; Walters 2009, 1, 79. Bolten 1985, 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, 34 and note 45; De Klerk 1989, 284. On Perrier’s diffusion in the Netherlands see Bolten 1985, 257–58; Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 51–52; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 76. For Van Haarlem’s 1639 inventory see Van Thiel 1965, 123, 128; Van Thiel 1999, 84, and Appendix II, 254–255, 257, 270–71, 273. For van Balen’s 1635 and 1656 inventories, see Duverger 1984–2009, 4, 200–11. For Rembrandt’s 1656 bankruptcy inventory see Strauss and Van der Meulen 1979, 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, 35–50, esp. 35, note 65. 64 65  151 For a copy in reverse, dated 1639, see Bolten 1985, 133–34, and 138, fig.a. 152 On Jan ter Boch’s painting (fig. 49) see Paris 2000–01, 401–02, no. 207 (J. Foucart). On Van Oost the Elder’s painting (fig. 50), see Antwerp 2008, 77, no. 20 (S. Janssens). On Vaillant’s painting (fig. 51), see MacLaren 1991, 1, 440, note 8; Amsterdam 1997, 349, 2. On the painting attrib- uted to Sweert (fig. 52) see Waddingham 1976–77; Amsterdam 1997, 348–52, under no. 74; Paris 2000–01, 400–01, no. 206 (J. Foucart); Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 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, 402–03, no. 208 (J.-R. Gaborit and J.-P. Cuzin); Lock 2010. 153 For the Borghese Gladiator see Haskell and Penny 1981, 221–24, no. 43; Paris 2000–01, no. 1, 150–51 (L. Laugier); Pasquier 2000–01c. For the Dying Gladiator see Haskell and Penny 1981, 224–27, no. 44; Mattei 1987; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010, 428–35. For the Venus de’ Medici, see Haskell and Penny 1981, 325–28, no. 88; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, 74–75, no. 64 (137). 154 See Haskell and Penny 1981 esp. 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, 16–22; Coquery 2000; Picozzi 2000. 156 Picozzi 2000; Laveissière 2011; Di Cosmo 2013; Fatticcioni 2013. 157 Haskell and Penny 1981, 21; Goldstein 1996, 144; Coquery 2000, 43–44. On Perrier’s success in the Netherlands see Bolten 1985, 257–58; Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 51–52; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 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, 13–25, and for an English translation see Bellori 2005, 55–65. On it see Mahon 1947, esp. 109– 54, 242–43; Panofsky 1968, 103–11; Bellori 1976, esp. XXIX–XL; Barasch 2000, 1, 315–22; Cropper 2000. 162 Bellori 1976, 299. 163 See Barasch 2000, 1, 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, 75, 90–91 (Annibale Carracci), 529–30 (Guido Reni), 625 (Carlo Maratti). For Rubens, Bernini and Cortona see Bellori 1976, XXXI. For Annibale Carracci and the Antique see also Weston-Lewis 1992. For his drawing (fig. 58) see Washington D.C. 1999–2000, 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, 1, 312–13, no. 161. For Maratti’s drawings (figs 60–61) see Blunt and Cooke 1960, 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, 71, no. 2.4 (G. Fusconi). 165 Wittkower 1963; Princeton, Cleveland and elsewhere 1981–82, 159–73; New York 2012–13, 234–38, no. 25. 166 Pevsner 1940, 82–114; Goldstein 1996, 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, 173–219, with previous bibliography. 167 Montaiglon 1875–92, 1, 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, 61. 169 Montaiglon 1875–92, 1, 315–17. 170 Félibien 1668, Preface (not paginated). 171 Le Brun 1698. On it see Montagu 1994. 172 Félibien 1668, 28–40; Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, 1.1, 127–35. 173 Félibien 1668, Preface (not paginated). 174 Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, see esp. vols 1-2, passim. 175 Lichtenstein and Michel  Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, 1.1, 374–77. See also Goldstein 1996, 150. 177 Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, 1, 129–32. 178 Montaiglon 1875–92, 1, 293 (for a Venus donated by Chantelou in 1665), 300, 330–31 (for the cast of the Farnese Hercules ordered in 1666 and delivered in 1668), 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, 1, 36. 181 Goldstein 1978, esp. 2–5. 182 Golzio 1935. 183 Boyer 1950, 117; Goldstein 1970; Bousquet 1980, 110–11; Goldstein 1996, 45–46. 184 Mahon 1947, 188–89. 185 Missirini 1823, 145–46 (chap. XCI); Mahon 1947, 189; Goldstein 1996, 46. 186 Teyssèdre 1965; Puttfarken 1985; Montagu 1996; Arras and Épinal 2004. 187 Armenini 1587, 93–99, esp. 96 (book 2, chap. 5). 188 See esp. Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 69–75; Muller 2004, esp. 18–21; Jaffé and Bradley 2005–06; Jaffé 2010. For the drawing (fig. 67) see Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 71–72, notes 11, 14, 16 with previous literature. Rubens applied this method to several other statues. 189 Bellori 1976, 451, 473–77, ; Bellori 2005, 311, and for the plates 334–37. See Rome 2000b, 2, 403–04, no. 9 (V. Krahn); Henry 2011; Coquery 2013, 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, 48–50; Paris 2000–01, 389–90, no. 195; Coquery 2013, 37–40; Stanic 2013. For the three drawings repro- duced here see Coquery 2013, 281, no. D114 (Laocoön), 283, no. D130 (Belvedere Antinous), 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, 1.1, esp. 161–66 (Charles Le Brun), 316–33 (Charles Le Brun), 332–35 (Michel Anguier), 374–77 (Sébastien Bourdon); 1.2, 636–38 (Michel Anguier), 667–71 (Henry Testelin). 192 On De Wit’s Teekenboek (fig. 74) see Bolten 1985, 82–86. On Nollekens’ drawing (fig. 75) see Blayney Brown 1982, 484, no. 1460; Nottingham and London 1991, 58–59, no. 31 (Venus de’ Medici); Lyon 1998–99, 123–24, no. 101. On Volpato’s and Morghen’s print annotated by Canova (fig. 76) see Rome 2008, 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, 391–92, no. 197; Coquery 2013, 195–200; Paris 2008–09a, 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 384, no. G.416, 383, no. G.413, 381, no. G.400, 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, 1.2, 581–93 (Pierre Monnier, ‘Sur les muscles du Laocoon’, 2 May 1676). 196 See Paris 2000–01, 393–94, no. 199, with previous bibliography; Paris 2008–09a, 226–27, no. 85. 197 See Paris 2000–01, 392–93, no. 198, with previous bibliography; Paris 2008–09a, 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. 58–59, with previous bibliography. 199 See Jordan and Weston 2002, 97, 4.7. 200 For the practice see Paris 2000–01, 415–29; Schwartz 2008–09; London 2013–14, 62–69. On Paillett’s drawing (fig. 87) see London 2013–14, 21, pl. 1, 96, no. 1. For Bottani’s (fig. 88) see Philadelphia 1980– 81, 59–60, no. 47. For David’s painting (fig. 89) see Rome 1981–82, 101–02, no. 25. 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 Pevsner 1940, 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’, 45. See an English translation in Diderot 2011, 19. On the diffusion of casts in the 18th century see Haskell and Penny 1981, esp. 79–91, chap. 11; Rossi Pinelli 1984; Rossi Pinelli 1988; Pucci 2000a; Frederiksen and Marchand 2010. London 2013–14, 36, 46–47. See the explanatory text for the plate: Diderot and D’Alembert 1762–72, 20, entry ‘Dessein’, 1–20, esp. 2–5. See also Michel 1987, 284, 288. Locquin 1912, 5–13; Toledo, Chicago and elsewhere 1975–76; Plax 2000. Locquin 1912, 5–13; Schoneveld-Van Stoltz 1989, 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, 2, 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, 277–78, no. 233; Philadelphia and Houston 2000, 425, no. 275, with previous literature. Macandrew 1978; Connor Bulman 2006; Windsor 2013, with previous bibliography. Haskell and Penny 1981, esp. 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, 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, 75. On the Accademia del Nudo see Pietrangeli 1959; Pietrangeli 1962; MacDonald 1989; Barroero 1998; Bordini 1998. Haskell and Penny 1981, 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 7, 333–37). Boyer 1955; Loire 2005–06, 75–81. Caviglia-Brunel 2012, 115–63. For Natoire’s drawing (fig. 94) see Paris 2000–01, 372, no. 177; Caviglia- Brunel 2012, 415–16, no. D.558. On Robert’s drawings (figs 95–96) see Paris 2000–01, 373–74, nos 178–79; Rome 2008, 132–33, nos 12–13; Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, 22–23, nos 1a–1b. For 97 see Paris 2000– 01, 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. 1, 391– 746, 2, 754–866. Sérullaz 1981–82, 42. For David’s drawing (fig. 98) see Rosenberg and Prat 2002, 499, no. 642. See Pressly 1979; Valverde 2008; Busch 2013. On all these aspects see Pears 1988, esp. 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, 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, 59, note 63, 65, 77, note 9, 81, note 65, 88, 103. Einberg and Egerton 1988, 64–71. Kitson 1966–68, esp. 85–86; Postle 1997, esp. 83–84. See Paulson 1971, 2, 168–71; Nottingham and London 1991, 62, no. 37. Coutu 2000, 47; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. On Mortimer’s painting see Nottingham and London 1991, 45, no. 11, with previous bibliography. MacDonald 1989. Allan 1968, 76–88; Bignamini 1988, 108; Postle 1997, 85–87; Coutu 2000, 52; Kenworthy-Browne 2009, 43–44. Ibid. On the Glasgow Foulis Academy see Pevsner 1940, 156; MacDonald 1989, 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, 43, no. 7; Rome 2010–11b, 432, no.V.6. On Zoffany’s painting see New Haven and London 2011–12, 218–21, no. 44, with previous bibliography. For the medal see Hutchison 1986, 34. On Kauffman’s painting see Rome 2010–11b, 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, 30–40. Venice 1976, 114–15, no. 49. Malvasia 1678, 1, 359, 365, 484. On the 17th-century neologism ‘statuino’ see Pericolo’s forthcoming article. See De Piles 1677, 253–54; De Piles 1708, esp. 128–38. Bellori 1976, 214; Bellori 2005, 180. See Pucci 2000a; Bukdahal 2007 Diderot 1995, 4. See also Haskell and Penny 1981, 91. Boime 1980, 330–35, pl. ix.47. Couture 1867, 155–56. 6609a, 226–27, no. 85. 197 See Paris 2000–01, 392–93, no. 198, with previous bibliography; Paris 2008–09a, 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. 58–59, with previous bibliography. 199 See Jordan and Weston 2002, 97, 4.7. 200 For the practice see Paris 2000–01, 415–29; Schwartz 2008–09; London 2013–14, 62–69. On Paillett’s drawing (fig. 87) see London 2013–14, 21, pl. 1, 96, no. 1. For Bottani’s (fig. 88) see Philadelphia 1980– 81, 59–60, no. 47. For David’s painting (fig. 89) see Rome 1981–82, 101–02, no. 25. Pevsner 1940, 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’, 45. See an English translation in Diderot 2011, 19. On the diffusion of casts in the 18th century see Haskell and Penny 1981, esp. 79–91, chap. 11; Rossi Pinelli 1984; Rossi Pinelli 1988; Pucci 2000a; Frederiksen and Marchand 2010. London 2013–14, 36, 46–47. See the explanatory text for the plate: Diderot and D’Alembert 1762–72, 20, entry ‘Dessein’, 1–20, esp. 2–5. See also Michel 1987, 284, 288. Locquin 1912, 5–13; Toledo, Chicago and elsewhere 1975–76; Plax 2000. Locquin 1912, 5–13; Schoneveld-Van Stoltz 1989, 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, 2, 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, 277–78, no. 233; Philadelphia and Houston 2000, 425, no. 275, with previous literature. Macandrew 1978; Connor Bulman 2006; Windsor 2013, with previous bibliography. Haskell and Penny 1981, esp. 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, 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, 75. On the Accademia del Nudo see Pietrangeli 1959; Pietrangeli 1962; MacDonald 1989; Barroero 1998; Bordini 1998. Haskell and Penny 1981, 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 7, 333–37). Boyer 1955; Loire 2005–06, 75–81. Caviglia-Brunel 2012, 115–63. For Natoire’s drawing (fig. 94) see Paris 2000–01, 372, no. 177; Caviglia- Brunel 2012, 415–16, no. D.558. On Robert’s drawings (figs 95–96) see Paris 2000–01, 373–74, nos 178–79; Rome 2008, 132–33, nos 12–13; Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, 22–23, nos 1a–1b. For 97 see Paris 2000– 01, 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. 1, 391– 746, 2, 754–866. Sérullaz 1981–82, 42. For David’s drawing (fig. 98) see Rosenberg and Prat 2002, 499, no. 642. See Pressly 1979; Valverde 2008; Busch 2013. On all these aspects see Pears 1988, esp. 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, 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, 59, note 63, 65, 77, note 9, 81, note 65, 88, 103. Einberg and Egerton 1988, 64–71. Kitson 1966–68, esp. 85–86; Postle 1997, esp. 83–84. See Paulson 1971, 2, 168–71; Nottingham and London 1991, 62, no. 37. Coutu 2000, 47; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. On Mortimer’s painting see Nottingham and London 1991, 45, no. 11, with previous bibliography. MacDonald 1989. Allan 1968, 76–88; Bignamini 1988, 108; Postle 1997, 85–87; Coutu 2000, 52; Kenworthy-Browne 2009, 43–44. Ibid. On the Glasgow Foulis Academy see Pevsner 1940, 156; MacDonald 1989, 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, 43, no. 7; Rome 2010–11b, 432, no.V.6. On Zoffany’s painting see New Haven and London 2011–12, 218–21, no. 44, with previous bibliography. For the medal see Hutchison 1986, 34. On Kauffman’s painting see Rome 2010–11b, 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, 30–40. Venice 1976, 114–15, no. 49. Malvasia 1678, 1, 359, 365, 484. On the 17th-century neologism ‘statuino’ see Pericolo’s forthcoming article. See De Piles 1677, 253–54; De Piles 1708, esp. 128–38. Bellori 1976, 214; Bellori 2005, 180. See Pucci 2000a; Bukdahal 2007 Diderot 1995, 4. See also Haskell and Penny 1981, 91. Boime 1980, 330–35, pl. ix.47. Couture 1867, 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 Bembo, Prose . . . della volgar lingua, Venice, 1525, 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, 32r–33r. The following translation is from the first English edition: Aretin: A Dialogue on Painting. From the Italian of Ludovico Dolce, London, 1770, 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, 43. The following translation is from Vasari on Technique, ed. G. Baldwin Brown, trans. L. S. Maclehose, London, 1907, 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 17, 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, 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, 1, 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, 4, 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, 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, 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, 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, 139–47. The following translation is from the first English edition: Roger de Piles, The Principles of Painting, London, 1743, 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, 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, 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, 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, 3–13. The following translation is from G. 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, 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, 99 (book 3, chap. 55). 3 Quoted the first time in Pino 1582, 2, 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, 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, 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 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, 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, 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, 13, 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, 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, 1, 1777, 238–39 (translation Barbara Lasic). The French Academy in Rome is a school of painting that King Louis XIV established in 1666, et 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, 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, 2, 98; Bartsch 1803–21, 14, 314–15, no. 418; Pevsner 1940, 38–42, 5; Ciardi Duprè 1966, 161; Wittkower 1969, 232, 70; Oberhuber 1978, 314.418, repr.; Florence 1980, 264, no. 687; Roman 1984, 81–84, 62; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, 497–98, 1; Landau and Parshall 1994, 286, 304; Barkan 1999, 290–98, 5.12; Fiorentini 1999, 145–46, no. 29; Munich and Cologne 2002, 319, no. 110; Thomas 2005, 3–14, figs 1–3; Hegener 2008, 396–403 and 624–25, pl. 228; Antwerp 2013, 26, repr.; Florence 2014, 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, 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 26, 18 and cat. 5, 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 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 2. Detail of Veneziano’s engraving, statue gazing at an even smaller statuette 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, 5, 246, 250) but he never mentions an academy (Barkan 1999, 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, 2, 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, 25; Roman 1984, 81; and Goldstein 1996, 10 and frontispiece). For Bandinelli as the first to use this word in conjunction with art training, see Pevsner 1940, 39; Barkan 1999, 290; Munich and Cologne 2002, 319 under no. 110; Thomas 2005, 8; Hegener 2008, 401 and 403. 3 Visual arts were regarded as applied disciplines rather than liberal arts and thus unsuitable for intellectual discussion (Pevsner 1940, 30–31; Goldstein 1996, 147; Cologne and Munich 2002, 319 under no. 110; Thomas 2005, 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, 42). For more about the Accademia see Goldstein 1975; Waz ́bin ́ski 1987; Barzman 1989; Barzman 2000. 5 Goldstein 1996, chap. 8; Barkan 1999, 292; Costamagna 2005. 6 Goldstein 1996, 14. 7 Barocchi 1971–77, 2, 1384–85. 8 Roman 1984, 83; Munich and Cologne 2002, 319; Thomas 2005, pp.6–7. 9 Weil-Garris 1981, 246–47, note 39; Barkan 1999, 292; Hegener 2008, 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, 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, 12). 13 Thomas 2005, 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, 401. For Venus Felix, see Spinola 1996–2004, 1, 97, PN 23 and 14 on 98. Ciardi Duprè 1966, 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, 145; Thomas 2005, 11, note 21; and Hegener 2008, 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, 16–20). Volker Krahn also expressed doubt that it is by Bandinelli (Florence 2014, 374). ‘Fece molte figurine   come Ercoli, Venere, Apollini, Lede, ed altre sue fantasie’ (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 5, 251). See Florence 2014, 372–75, no. 32. Fusco 1982; Ames-Lewis 2000b, 52–55. See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 22–23. Thomas 2005, 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, 12). Bartsch noted only one state (the second), but was also aware of the copy of the second state discussed here (Bartsch 1803–21, 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, 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, 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, 2, 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, 10); nevertheless, it represents a familial dissatisfaction with the dissemination of Bandinelli’s designs once removed from his control. Minonzio 1990, 686 and Florence 2014, 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, 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, 5, 239–76, and more concise surveys in Weil-Garris 1981, 224–42 and Waldman 2004, xv–xxviii. Weil-Garris 1981, 224. Pevsner 1940, 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 et Hanstein, Cologne, 3 November 1998, lot 2722, from whom acquired. selected literature: Heinecken 1778–90, 2, 98–99; Bartsch 1803–21, 15, 305–06, no. 49; Passavant 1860–64, 6, 122, no. 49; Pevsner 1940, 40–42, 6; Ciardi Duprè 1966, 163–64, 26; Goldstein 1975, 147, 1; Weil-Garris 1981, 235–36, 14; Roman 1984, 84–87, 66; Spike 1985, 305.49-I and 305.49-II, repr.; Landau and Parshall 1994, 286, 303; Barkan 1999, 290–98, 5.13; Fiorentini 1999, 146–47, no. 30; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 86–88, no. 21; Thomas 2005, 12–14, 5; Hegener 2008, 404–12 and 625–26, pl. 232; Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, 18, 15; Florence 2014, 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 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, 155–62 (on the study of the bones and muscles, 157–62). See Olmstead Tonelli 1984, esp. 101. See also Schultz 1985; Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97; London, Warwick and elsewhere 1997–98; Carlino 2008–09. Roman 1984, 91. See Appendix, no. 7 for the statutes of the Accademia di San Luca. Repr. in Panofsky 1962, 107. Panofsky 1962, 148–51. Goldstein 1996, 14. For the neo-Platonic movement during the Renais- sance, see Panofsky 1962, chap. 5. Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, 18; Florence 2014, 520. Thomas 2005, 13–14; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 87. Alberti 1972, 96–99 (book 3.55); Leonardo 1956, 1, 47, chap. 65–66. See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 33. Brown 1907, 210; Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 1, 114–15. Cellini 1731, 157. Bartsch mistakenly conflated the second and third states and therefore only listed two states (Bartsch 1803–21, 15, 305–06). He was corrected by Passavant (1860–64, 6, 122, no. 49) and this is accepted by subsequent scholarship (i.e. Thomas 2005, 13). Hegener 2008, 405. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 88, note 1. See also Florence 2014, 530. Venator et 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, 40). The following agree on the approximate dates c. 1545/50: Weil-Garris 1981, 235; Thomas 2005, 13; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 86; Florence 2014, 530. Fiorentini suggested c. 1550 because after that date Vico used ‘sculptere’ on his works, rather than ‘sculpsit’ as here (Fiorentini 1999, 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, 13). Therefore we must be very cautious in making any assumptions based on this particular inscription. London 2001–02, 230. He continued working until c. 1586. Florence 2014, 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, 2, 90; Bartsch 1854–76, 15, 279–80; Nagler 1966, 1, 542, under no. 1266; Le Blanc 1854-88, 3, 414, 1–2; Steinmann 1913, 96-97, note 8; Florence 1980, 264, 266, no. 690; Los Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, 76–77, no. 20; Fiorentini 1999, 153–54, no. 34, 34 (see also 150–53, under no. 33); Fiorentini and Rosenberg 2002, 37, 20, 38, 42, 44; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 32–34, no. 1 (J. Clifton); Hegener 2008, 391–96, version II, 57, 617–18, no. 16 (see also 380–91, under version I); Florence 2014, 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, 40–41; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 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, 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  1. Baccio Bandinelli, A Standing Female Figure, c. 1515, red chalk, 410 × 242 mm, private collection, Switzerland 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 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   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, 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, 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, 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, 236–37. For the painting, see O. Tostmann, in Florence 2014, 510–13, no. 69, repr.; Mozzati 2014, 458–63. For a full discussion of the statue, see Vossilla 2014, 156–67, repr.; Florence 2014, 573, no. VII. For Herculean imagery in the engraving, see Hegener 2008, 382–86, 389–91, 395–96. Barkan 1999, 304; Krahn 2014, 324–31. As first observed by Bruce Davis in Los Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, 77. For the sculpture, see D. Heikamp, in Florence 2014, 314–15, no. 22, repr. He also appears, in adapted form, in other works by the sculptor (Fiorentini 1999, 152). First noted by B. Davis, in Los Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, 77; Barkan 1999, 308–09, 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, 151–52. Barkan 1999, 309–12; V. Krahn, in Florence 2014, 356–59, no. 28. B. Davis in Los Angeles, Toledo and elsewhere 1988–89, 77. The drawing was formerly with Yvonne Tan Bunzl (Bunzl 1987, no. 5, repr.; see also V. Krahn, in Florence 2014, 356, 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, 17, no. 37; Barkan 1999, 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, 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, 246–47, R2, repr. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 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, 313). Fiorentini 1999, 150, followed by Hegener 2008, 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, 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, 26–27, no. 8, repr.); see also Barkan 1999, 308–09, fig 5.17. Hegener 2008, 383. Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 34. T. Mozzati, in Florence 2014, 527, who reports that this view is shared by Mino Gabriele. That author notes (repeating Massari 1983, 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, 1, 125, no. 223, repr. T. Mozzati, in Florence 2014, 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, 185, no. 53-A (136), repr.; Zucker 2000, 47, .036a. See also Ripa’s illustrated edition of 1603 (Buscaroli 1992, 142–44, repr.). Fiorentini 1999, 151; Hegener 2008, 383. For the statue: Haskell and Penny 1981, 250–51, no. 54, 128; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 236–37, no. 185. Faietti and Kelescian 1995, 220–21, no. 4; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 237, 185a. Aldrovandi 1556, 270, cited and translated by Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 236. As proposed by Hegener (2008, 380, 382, 389–90) who considered his arms to be based on those of Christ in Michelangelo’s Last Judgment. Zucker 1980, 78, no. 5 (100), repr.; Zucker 1984, 350–51, .028, repr. The pose also anticipates Bandinelli’s God the Father sculpture of the 1550s in S. Croce, Florence (Florence 2014, 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, 129–55) provides a thorough account of the project. D. Cordellier, in Paris 2000–01, 237–40, no. 74, repr. 29 Aspertini (1472–1552) (fig.4; Kupferstichtkabinett, Berlin). 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. et D. Martinez (Paris 2003, 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, 150–53, no. 33; Fiorentini and Rosenberg 2002, 36, 19; Hegener 2008, 380–91, version I, 221, 617, no. 15. J. Clifton in Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 32–34, no. 1; Hegener 2008, 391; Mozzati in Florence 2014, 526–27, no. 76. Erna Fiorentini previously attributed it to Casa with a query (1999, 153). Hegener 2008 618, no. 17, 226; Heinecken (1778–90, 2, 90). For his portraiture and use of it for self-promotion, see Weil-Garris 1981, 237–38; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989; Mozzati 2014, 452–63. Florence 2014, 568, no. III; 573, no. VII; 576–81, nos IX.-X. (R. Schallert). The Orpheus and his copy of the Laocoön (ibid., 571, no. V) earned his reputation as ‘a great young talent who can export the Belvedere’. (Barkan, 1999, 279). His personality is revealed in his letters and the lengthy account in Vasari’s Lives (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 5, 238–76). See also Weil-Garris 1981, 223–24; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, 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, 38). Many of the prints he published were of Roman antiquities. See London 2001–02, 233; Pagani 2000; Witcombe 2008, 67–105. Weil-Garris 1981, 231; Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, 497. For a fundamental discussion of Bandinelli and the Antique, see Barkan 1999, 271–408. Weil-Garris Brandt 1989, 497, 499–500. Weil-Garris 1981, 237. See V. Krahn, in Florence 2014, 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, 36, 19), and Bandinelli’s Hercules with the Apple of the Hesperides, c. 1545, in the Bargello in Florence (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, 74, under cat. no. 42). See also M. Zurla, in Florence 2014, 388–93, cat. nos 37–39. Weil-Garris 1981, 237; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 34. Campidoglio – freely interpreted by artists like Amico   92 93 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 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, 5, 182, no. 1; Ameisenowa 1963, 58; Wolf-Heiddeger and Cetto 1967, 171, no. 73, repr. on 431; Heikamp 1972, 300 and 1 on 302; Heidelberg 1982, 29, no. 52, pl. 1 on 17; Sellink 1992, 46; Rotterdam 1994, 195–99 (in Dutch), 200–05 (in English), a on 204; Baroni Vannucci 1997, 63–64, 247, no. 313, repr. on 246. exhibitions: Florence 1980, 213, no. 523, not repr. (G. G. Bertelà); London 1986, no. 144, repr. on 193 (N. Turner); Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97, 148–49, no. 39 (M. Kornell); London, Warwick, and elsewhere 1997–98, 19, 25, 119, no. 142 (D. Petherbridge and L. Jordanova); London 2001–02, 21, no. 4 (M. Bury); Bruges 2008–09, 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, 5, 182; Bierens de Haan 1948, 199, no. 218, 53; Hollstein 1949–2001, 5, 58, no. 218, repr.; Ameisenowa 1963, 58; Wolf-Heiddeger and Cetto 1967, 171–72, no. 74, repr. on 431; Heikamp 1972, 300, 2 on 302; Strauss 1977, 1, 278–79, repr.; Florence 1980, 213; Parker 1983, 76–77, repr. (as state II); Roman 1984, 88–91, 69; Strauss and Shimura 1986, 249, 218.199; Liedtke 1989, 190, no. 53, repr. on 191; Sellink 1992, 46, 18 on 47; Rotterdam 1994, 195–99 (in Dutch), 200–205 (in English), no. 69; Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97, 148–51, no. 40; Baroni Vannucci 1997, 63–64, 436, no. 772; Sellink and Leeflang 2000, part 3, 118–19, no. 210; London 2001–02, 18–21, no. 3; Munich and Cologne 2002, 321–22, no. 112; Wiebel and Wiedau 2002, 154, repr. on 155; Perry Chapman 2005, 116, 4.7 on 117. exhibitions: Vienna 1987, 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, 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, 1) and by a sheet of eyes from Odoardo Fialetti’s (1573–1638) drawing-book (p. 34, 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 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, 229). I am grateful to Erik Hinterding, Curator of Prints at the Rijksmuseum, for his correspondence regarding this provenance. Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 89–90, no. 42 and 113–14, no. 66. Janssens 2012, 9–10. Karel van Mander’s biography of Van der Straet is very brief (Van Mander 1994–99, 1, 326–29). A better source is Borghini 1584, 579–89. There is an excellent chronology of his life, including lists of the related archival documents, in Baroni Vannucci 1997, 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, 228–29). It may even have been published post- humously, as Cort died in 1578 (Sellink and Leeflang 2000, part 3, 119). For Cort’s biography, see Thieme-Becker 1907–50, 12, 475–77. Cock was also the first publisher with whom Stradanus worked, in 1567, and they had a long partnership (Baroni 2012, 91). Bruges 2008–09, 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, 18, 21). London 2001–02, 18. Leesberg 2012a, 161. Amornpichetkul 1984, 117 and Cellini 1731, 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, 33–34. Appendix, no. 7. Alberti 1972, 75 (book 2, chap. 36) and 97 (book 3, chap. 55). Heikamp 1972, 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, 59–60). Heikamp’s theory has been rejected in London 2001–02, 21 and Bruges 2008–09, 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, 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, 21). Ottawa, Vancouver and elsewhere 1996–97, 148. Rotterdam 1994, 200. Bruges 2008–09, 226–27. Bruges 2008–09, 229. For a list of the copies, see Sellink and Leeflang 2000, part 3, 119. For the practice of copying after Stradanus’ prints, see Leesberg 2012a.   98 99 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, 64; Acidini Luchinat ; Paul 2000, 5–6, 1; Paris 2000–01, 379–80, under no. 185 (C. Scailliérez); Silver 2007–08, 86; Lukehart 2007–08, 105; Cavazzini 2008, 50, 26; Tronzo 2009, 49, 6, 52–54; Deswarte-Rosa 2011, 27–28, 31, 4; Pierguidi 2011, 29–30, 3; Luchterhandt 2013–14, 38–39, 11. exhibitions: London 1836, 11, no. 17, not repr.; Los Angeles 1999 (no catalogue); Rome 2006–07, 159–60, no. 51 (M. Serlupi Crescenzi); Los Angeles 2007–08, 24, 33–34, no. 17 (see also, 7, 40, 70, 86, 127). 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 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 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 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. 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, 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  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 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, 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, 34, no. 18, 40). Translation by J. Brooks (ibid., 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, 272–73, no. 65 and 310–11, no. 79; Klementa 1993, 9–51, nos A1–A39, pls 1–18; 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, 69–87; Haskell and Penny 1981, 7–11; Nesselrath 1994, 52–55; Nesselrath 1998a, 1–16. 7 See Coffin 1979, 69–87; Haskell and Penny 1981, 7. 8 Coffin 1979, 82. 9 For the two Rivers, see above, note 4. 10 For statues in their niches, see Haskell and Penny 1981, 11, 4, and Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 122c. 11 First published as Heemskerck in Winner and Nesselrath 1987, 867; see also M. Serlupi Crescenzi, in Rome 2006–07, 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, 146–47, no. 34), see Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 26, 21. 12 For the group, see Haskell and Penny 1981, 243–47, no. 52; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 164–68, no. 122, Pasquier 2000–01b and the exhibition catalogue devoted to it, Rome 2006–07. 13 Haskell and Penny 1981, 243; M. Buranelli, in Rome 2006–07, 127–28, no. 13. 14 Coffin 1979, 82; Haskell and Penny 1981, 243. 15 Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 165, see also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 28. 16 Haskell and Penny 1981, 244 and Settis 1998, 129–60. 17 Ettlinger 1961, 121–26; Brummer 1970, 117–18; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 166. 18 For the statue’s critical reception, see Bieber 1967; Brilliant 2000; Décultot 2003 and Rome 2006–07. 19 Haskell and Penny 1981, 246–47; Nesselrath 1998b, 165–74; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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, 150–51, no. 40). The additions were then put back. 20 Oberhuber 1978, 50, no. 353 (268); T. Schtrauch, in Rome 2006–07, 152–53, no. 42. 21 For their juxtaposition, see Tronzo 2009, 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 42 309, doc. 112; see also 52–56). For the statue, see Haskell and Penny 1981, 148–51, no. 8; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 76–77, no. 28. In 1532–33 Montorsoli replaced the existing right arm and restored the hands (Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 77). Federico presents it in its restored state with bow. Haskell and Penny 1981, 150. Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 76; Vasari’s preface to Part III of the Lives, 1568 ed. (Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 4, 7). See Roettgen 1998, 253–74. He employs the same device in other drawings in the series (Los Angeles 2007–08, 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, 20, 32, no. 13. For the column, its reliefs and history, see Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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 267, 91 (Etienne Du Pérac’s engraving, 1575) and 271, 95 (Alò Giovannoli’s engaving, 1619) and Riccomini 1996. Los Angeles 2007–08, 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, 86–91. Wegner 1966, 88–89, no. 228, plates 11–12. Los Angeles 2007–08, 31. In Taddeo’s time the torso (CensusID 159347 and Ruesch 1911, 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, 360–62, no. 169, entry by C. Scailliérez). For Polidoro and the Zuccari, see Los Angeles 2007–08, 71–77. Armenini had already advised artists to copy Polidoro’s frescoes (1587, 58, book 1, chap. 7). Alberti 1604, 7. See also Armenini, 1587, 52–59 (book 1, chap. 7). See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 32–33 Rossi 1997, 66–68. Alberti 1604, 8 (‘e chi andarà frà la settimana dissegnando all’antico’), cited and translated in Silver 2007-08, 86). Los Angeles 2007–08, 27, 35, no. 20. Ibid., 2. Ibid. For previous arguments on the topic and a fascinating hypothetical recon- struction of the Sala del Disegno, see Strunck 2007–08, 113–25. The shape is adapted slightly in a version of the present drawing in the Uffizi, Florence, of similar dimensions (Paris 2000–01, 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, 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, 1, 326, no. 208, 2, 170; Van Regteren Altena 1964, 19, 101–02, no. 32; Miedema 1969, 76–77; Brummer 1970, 70–71, repr.; Stolzenburg 2000, 426–27, repr., 439, no. 173; Brandt 2001, 148; Hamburg 2002, 114, repr. under no. 33; Amsterdam, New York and elsewhere 2003–04, 269, repr.; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 77, under no. 28; Leesberg 2012b, 2, 370 under no. 380; Göttingen 2013–14, 22–23, 6; Nichols 2013a, 56, 84, 54; Veldman 2013–14, 105. exhibitions: Münster 1976, 138, no. 111, 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: et D. Colnaghi Co., London, from whom acquired in 1854. literature: Bartsch 1854–76, 3, 45, no. 145; Hirschmann 1921, 60–61, no. 147; Hollstein 1949–2001, 8, 33, no. 147.II, repr.; Strauss 1977, 2, 566–67, no. 314, repr.; Leesberg 2012b, 2, 370, no. 380, 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 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 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, 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 26, 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 28, 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  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  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, 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, 1, 388–89 (fol. 282 verso). Ibid., 390–91 (fol. 283 recto). Ibid. Luijten 2003–04, 123. Reznicek 1961, 1, 89–94, 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 23, 15) and the Farnese Bull (now in the Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples); see Stolzenburg 2000, 437, 140–41, 440, no. 180 and Veldman 2013–14, 101. Veldman 2012, 11–23. Reznicek 1961, 90; Brandt 2001, 136. Haskell and Penny 1981, 18; Brandt 2001, 136. Brandt 2001, 143–46. Fuhring 1992, 57–84. 111  17 Ibid., 64–65, 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, 2, 368–75, nos 378–80; Luijten 2003–04, 119–20. 20 For the provenance of the drawings see Stolzenburg 2000 and Veldman 2013–14. 21 Van Regteren Altena 1964, 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, 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, 118). Goltzius used this copy for his engraving; see Leesberg 2012b, 2, 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, 13–17. For the history and the fortuna critica of the Apollo Belvedere: Haskell and Penny 1981, 148–51, no. 8; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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, 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, 40, cat. N 19; Hirschmann 1921, 59; Reznicek 1961, 1, 337, cat. K 227, 2, 179; Miedema 1969, 76–77, repr. (recto and verso); Schapelhouman 1979, 67, note 3; Amsterdam 1993–94, 361–62, under no. 24 (B. Cornelis); Stolzenburg 2000, 439, no. 164; Brandt 2001, 139, 144, 132, 148; Hamburg 2002, 116, under no. 34 (A. Stolzenburg) ; Leeflang 2012, 24–25, 5; Leesberg 2012b, 2, 368–69, under no. 378; Göttingen 2013–14, 210; Veldman 2013–14, 102–05. exhibitions: New York 1988, 58–60, no. 12; Brussels and Rome 1995, 204, no. 101; Luijten 2003–04, 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, 3, 44–45, no. 143; Hirschmann 1921, 58–59, no. 145; Hollstein 1949–2001, 8, 33, no. 145, repr.; Strauss 1977, 2, 562–63, no. 312, repr., 569; Leesberg 2012b, 2, 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      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 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 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 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  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, 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, 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, 3, 17–20, no. 1. Haskell and Penny 1981, 229. Baglione 1642 (facsimile edition, Rome 1935), 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, 2, 89–94; Brandt 2001, passim; Luijten 2003–04, 117–25. For both drawings see Luijten 2003–04, 132–36. Göttingen 2013–14, 210–11. For the prints by Bos and Ghisi see Göttingen 2013–14, 205–07, no. II. 18 (Ghisi) and 285–86, no. IV.09 (Bos). Brandt 2001, 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, 134 (with previous literature). For the dating of the three prints see Reznicek 1961, 419; Boston and St. Louis 1981–82, 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, 67, 2; Haarlem, Zurich and elsewhere 2006–07, 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, 67, 1). Schapelhouman 1979, 67 (with earlier literature); Luijten 2003–04, 135–36. Hymans 1884–85, 187, note 1. Schapelhouman (1979, 67) does not believe this, while Luijten (2003–04, 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, 1, 392–93, fol. 283v). Schapelhouman 2003–04, 147–58. Van Mander 1994–99, 1, 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, 2, 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, 42, no. N 31; Reznicek, 1961, 2, 321–22, no. 201, 2, 156; Miedema 1969, 76–77; Brummer 1970, 146, note 27, 148, repr.; Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 1, 109; Stolzenburg 2000, 437, no. 143; Brandt 2001, 148; Goddard 2001–02, 39 (erroneously as a drawing in black chalk); Florence 2008, 62, under no. 33 (M. Schapelhouman); Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 183, under no. 132; Nichols 2013a, 56, 146, under no. A-37, 31. exhibitions: Recklinghausen 1964, no. 87 [unpaginated]; Munich and Rome 1998–99, 44, 43, 160, no. 49; Luijten 2003–04, 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 26, 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 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, 2, 22, no. 52; Burchard and D’Hulst 1963, 1, 34–35, no. 16 and 2, pl. 16; Stechow 1968, 53–55, 43; Held 1986, 82, no. 39, pl. 23 on 172; New York 1988, 77, under no. 18, 18-I; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 80; Paris 2000–01, 419, under no. 222, 222a. exhibitions: London 1977, 28–29, no. 14 (J. Rowlands); London 2009–10 (no catalogue). Department of Prints and Drawings, The British Museum, London, inv. T,14.1  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 26, 19) and the Farnese Hercules (see 30, 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 mp See footnote 1 in cat. 6. Haskell and Penny 1981, 311–14, no. 80, 165; Munich and Rome 1998–99; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 181–84, no. 132. Wünsche 1998–99, 67. Michelangelo did indeed use the Torso directly as a model; see Wünsche 1998–99, 31–37; Haarlem and London 2005–06, 116–17. Haskell and Penny 1981, 312. Guhl 1880, 2, 42; Schwinn 1973, 36–37. Wright 1730, 1, 268; Haskell and Penny 1981, 312–13; Schwinn 1973, 172; Montreal 1992, 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, 115. For Aldrovandi’s complete text ‘nel giardino di Belvedere, sopra il Palagio del Papa’, see Brummer 1970, 268–69. Stolzenburg 2000, 437, nos 142–44, 439, no. 161. Van Thiel 1999, 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, 1, 26–27 (fol. S2 recto), 2, 70–72; Van Thiel 1999, 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, 2, 70). It is unclear how and for what length of time this ‘Haarlem Academy’ exactly functioned (see also Leeflang 2003–04a, 16; Leeflang 2003–04b, 252. Veldman 2012, 11–23. Hülsen and Egger 1913–16, 1, 34 (fol. 63), 40 (fol. 73). See also Brummer 1970, 144–45, figs 125–26. Brandt 2001, 143. Reznicek 1961, 1, 321–22, no. K 201; Luijten 2003–04, 131. Reznicek 1961, vol 1, 452, no. 431, 2, 132; Florence 2008, 61–62, no. 33 (M. Schapelhouman). Reznicek 1961, 1, 452. Schapelhouman (in Florence 2008, 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, 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 23, 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 23, 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 1. (left) Spinario (Thorn-Puller), 1st century bc, bronze, 73 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Sala dei Trionfi, Rome, inv. 1186 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, 13–15. 2 On Rubens in Rome and his approach to the Antique see esp. Stechow 1968; Jaffé 1977, 79–84; Muller 1982; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 41–81; Muller 2004, 18–28. 3 On Rubens’ drawings after the Antique see the fundamental catalogue in Van der Meulen 1994–95, 2. 4 See Ayomonino’s essay in this catalogue, 46–52. 5 See Muller 1989, passim; Muller 2004, 35–56. On the collection of antiquities see in particular Muller 1989, 82–87; Antwerp 2004, 260–63 (F. Healy). On the sale to the 1st Duke of Buckingham see Muller 2004, 62–63. 6 On the De Imitatione see Muller 1982; Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, esp. note 11, 77–78, note 44; Antwerp 2004, 298–99; Jaffé and Bradley 2005–06; Jaffé 2010. Transcribed in Appendix, no. 8, from De Piles 1743, 87–88. For Vasari see Bettarini Barocchi 1966–87, for instance 3, 549–50 and 5, 495–61. For Dolce see Appendix, no. 4. See Armenini 1587, esp. 59–60 (book I, chap. 8), 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, 1, 77–78. Malvasia 1678, 1, 359, 365, 484. On the 17th-century neologism ‘statuino’ see Pericolo, forthcoming. See Aymonino’s essay in this volume, 50–52. Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 80–81. The statue is traditionally considered to be an eclectic work of the 1st century bc: see Stuart Jones 1926, 43–47, no. 2; Haskell and Penny 1981, 308–10, no. 78; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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, 82; Paris 2000–01, 417–18, no. 222. Held 1986, 82; Paris 2000–01, 418, 222b. Held 1986, 82. Stechow 1968, 54–55. See also Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 80–81. Lugt 1949, 12–13, no. 1009, pl. XIV; Antwerp 1977, 129, no. 121. Coliva 1994, 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, 12–22, 10; Buffa 1983, 315–37, nos 198 (295) – 243 (301), repr. (for the Artist’s Studio, 321, no. 210 (298), repr.); Amornpichetkul 1984, 108–09, 83; Bolten 1985, 240–43, 245 and 248; Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, 248–49, no. 130 (D. Becker); London 2001–02, 198–200, no. 143; Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 94–96, no. 24 ( J. Clifford); Walters 2009, 1, 68–79, 2, 254–76, figs. 3.9–3.53; Walters 2014, 62–63, 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, 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, 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.  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.). 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, his son, took it over and are 1. Portrait of Marcus Aurelius as a Boy, 161–180 ad, marble, 74 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Palazzo Nuovo, Albani Collection, Rome, MC 279 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 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, 19), the Emperors Vitellius (p. 40, 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, 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 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 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  For a full appraisal of his life and work on which this biographical account is based, see Walters 2009 and Walters 2014, 57–67. Walters 2009, 1, 6–7; Walters 2014, 58. Walters 2014, 57. Walters 2009, 1, vi. Beginning with Bartsch, there has been considerable confusion over the size and content of the two editions. See Walters 2009, 1, 68–70, particularly note 40 and Walters 2014, 66–67, note 23; Greist 2014, 14–15. Alexandra Greist (ibid., 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, 321, no. 211 (298). The Holy Family and Christ Preaching. Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, 248; Nichols 2013b, 195, 236, note 134. The standing painter in profile is believed by some scholars to be Tintoretto (Ilchman and Saywell 2007, 392; Nichols 2013b, 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, 238, 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, 92–93, 213, 117). Fittschen and Zanker 1985, 1, 67–68, no. 61, 2, pls 69, 70, 72. CensusID: 46328. Michaelis 1892, 99, no. 60v; Dhanens 1963, 185, no. 52v, fig. 30; Fileri 1985, 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, 69, no. 20; CensusID: 58121. Walters 2014, 57. Ridolfi 1984, 16. Ridolfi 1914, 2, 14; Whitaker 1997. Ridolfi 1914, 2, 14; Ridolfi Tozzi 1933, 316. Ridolfi 1914, 2, 262–63. Rosand 1970; Walters 2009, 1, 73. Because ‘drawing was what gave to painting its grace and perfection’, Ridolfi added (Ridolfi 1914, 2, 65; Ridolfi 1984, 16). Muller 1984; Bolten 1985; Walters 2009, 1, 73. Armenini 1587, 52–59 (book 1, chap. 7); Alberti 1604, 5 (quoting Federico Zuccaro); Amornpichetkul 1984; Bleeke-Byrne 1984; Roman 1984, 91; Greist 2014, 15. Gombrich 1960, 161–62; Rosand 1970, 7, 14–15; Bolten 1985, 245; Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, 248 (D. Becker); Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 95 (J. Clifford); Walters 2009, 1, 74; Walters 2014, 62, 66, note 6. On the Carracci’s influence on model books, see Amornpichetkul 1984, 113–16. For model books, see Gombrich 1960, 156–72; Rosand 1970, 5; Ames- Lewis 2000a, 63–69; Nottingham and London 1983, 94–101; Amornpichetkul 1984, 109. D. Becker, in Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, 248; J. Clifford, in Houston and Ithaca 2005–06, 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, 1, 69; Walters 2014, 62. For the growing interest in publishing prints at this time in Venice, see Van der Sman 2000, 235–47. Rosand 1970, 17–19; Amornpichetkul 1984, 110–12; Walters 2009, 1,p.74. Rosand 1970, 15, 27. Amornpichetkul 1984, 115. Ibid., 112; D. Becker in Boston, Cleveland and elsewhere 1989, 248 (D. Becker); Walters 2009, 1, 75–79. Bolten 1985, 132–39. Ibid., 119, 131, 133–34, 141, 143, 153, 157, 188–207, 243–56; Walters 2009, 1, 79. Whistler 2015 (forthcoming). For a fundamental discussion of Fialetti and his impact in England, see Walters 2009, 1, Chapter 5, 152–197. See also Walters 2014, 64–65. Malvasia 1678, 2, 312; Greist 2014, 12. Walters 2009, 1, 152; Walters 2014, 64–65 Amornpichetkul 1984, 112; Walters 2009, 1, 78, 152. Walters 2009, 1, 78, 180–97; Greist 2014, 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, 348, no. 1 64, repr.; Lehmann-Haupt 1977, 155–57, 125; Amsterdam and Washington D.C. 1981–82, 16–17; Bolten 1985, 49, repr., 57–67; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 395, 2, T1a; Bolten 2007, 1, 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 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  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 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  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). 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, 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 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, 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, 337–38). Suggestion by Bok in Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 571. Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 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, 17; Plomp 2001, 37. For artists’ practical education in the Netherlands and Italy in the 16th and 17th centuries see Bleeke-Byrne 1984, 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, 51; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 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, 9, note 6; Bolten 2007, 1, 350–61. For the publication in instalments see: Bolten 2007, 1, 362. Bolten 1985, 66; Bolten 2007, 1, 362–97, 1150–1311. For doubts regarding Bloemaert’s authorship of the drawings in Cambridge see Bolten 1985, 48 (‘A. or F. Bloemaert’); Roethlisberger 1992, 30, note 41; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 391; Bolten 1993, 6–8. Bolten 2007, 1, 363, no. 1150, 2, 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, 1, 395). See Aymonino’s essay in the present volume, 15–77. According to Roethlisberger and Bok (1993, 1, 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, 1, 392, under no. 1290). The original drawing for this engraving is also in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge: Bolten 2007, 1, 392, no. 1290, 2, 1290. For Feddes, see Bolten 1985, 18, repr.; Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 395. For De Passe’s Tekenboek see: Amsterdam and Washington D.C. 1981–82, 15–17, 21, repr. For Dutch editions of Fialetti and for Dutch publications based or partially reprinting Fialetti see Bolten. According to Strauss (1973, 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, 157. For Bloemaert’s fortuna critica see: Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 47–50. Regarding the Tekenboek Roethlisberger surmises that the 1740 edition was intended for print and book collectors, rather than artists: ibid., 1, 394. For the various reprints of Bloemaert’s Tekenboek cited in this paragraph see Bolten 2007, 1, 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., 362, note 22). The only known copy of the 1723 edition is in the Centraal Museum in Utrecht (see Bolten 2007, 1, 362). Slatkin, 1976; Gerson 1983, 109–10 (Boucher and Fragonard), 189 (Piazzetta).  1 2 3 4 5 mp For Bloemaert’s life on which this biographical account is based, see Roethlisberger and Bok, 1993, 1, 551–87; Bolten 2007, 1, 3–5. For ‘new’ Bloemaert paintings, see Roethlisberger, 2014, 79–92. Van Mander 1994–99, 1, 448–49 (fol. 297v). Roethlisberger and Bok 1993, 1, 570. Ibid., 1, 571. Verbeek and Veldman 1974, 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, 127, 131, pl. II [a]; Martin 1907, 139, 149, no. 10; Horster 1974, 145, 147, 2; Van Thiel 1976, 532, A 1957, repr.; Döring 1994, 55–58, 2, 60–62; Kultzen 1996, 88–89, no. 6, repr., with previous bibliography. exhibitions: Milan 1951, no. 166, pl. 117; London 1955, 90–92, no. 77 (D. Sutton), not repr.; Rome 1958–59, 32–34, no. 4 (R. Kultzen); Rotterdam 1958, 36–37, no. 4; Toyko 1968–69, no. 63; Cologne and Utrecht 1991–92, 270–72, no. 33.1 (R. Kultzen); Hannover 1999, 18–20, 9; Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 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.), 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.). 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 30, 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, 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 42, 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, 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 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 3. Statue of an Old Woman, Roman copy of a Hellenistic original, marble, 145 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. Scu 640     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 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 40, 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 et avl 1 For his life and work, see Kultzen 1996 and Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, with previous literature. 2 Sutton 2002, 12; Bikker 2002, 25–26. 3 Sutton 2002, 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, 1, 92–93, chap. 1, no. 66; Stechow 1966, 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, 58; Sutton Sutton 2002, 11, 17. In the preface to his book on painters: Van Mander 1604, fol. 9r, chap. 2, no. 9; Van Mander 1973, 102–03, chap. 2, no. 9; Martin 1905, 126. Martin 1905, 127. See Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 33–34. Martin 1905, 127. Staatliche Kunsthalle Karlsruhe; Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 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, 132–39 and for other publications based or reprinting parts of Fialetti’s treatise see Bolten. 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, 349–88; Gyllenhaal 2008). See also cat. 23, note 18. Van Thiel 1965, 123, 128; Van Thiel 1999, 84, and Appendix II, 254–55, 257, 270–71, 273; Sutton 2002, 18. Van Mander 1604, fol. 292v; Van Mander 1973, 428–29. Sutton 2002, 18. This also may be due, in part, to the compromised condition of the canvas. Sutton 2002, 20. Martin 1905, 127; Horster 1974, 145. Haskell and Penny 1981, 100; Palma and de Lachenal 1983, 133–37, no. 58 (de Lachenal). Horster 1974, 145; Döring 1994, 60; Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 97. For the group, see Haskell and Penny 1981, 274–79, no. 66, figs 143–47, and for the daughter that it resembles the most, 145; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, 318–19, no. 596.1. Haskell and Penny 1981, 274; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, 62–63, no. 50. Noted by Döring 1994, 60–61. For the Duquesnoy sculpture, see Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 122, no. XV-2. On Duquesnoy’s fame as a ‘classical’ sculptor during the 17th century and later see Boudon-Mauchel 2005, 175–210. As first observed by Döring 1994, 62. For the statue see Stuart Jones 1912, 288–89, no. 22. Döring 1994, 63. The subject was noted by Denys Sutton (London 1955, 91) and Marita 138 139 5, Michael Sweerts, An Artist’s Studio, 1652, oil on canvas, 73.5 × 58.8 cm, The Detroit Institute of Arts, inv. 30.297 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, 145) who both identified the motif from a sketchbook by Francisco de Hollanda. Sutton and Guido Jansen (Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 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, 181–84 no. II.15, 25; De Romanis 2007, 235–238, 1. For the acquisition by the Louvre, see Sarti 2001, 121. Dacos 1986, 222; Christian 2002, 181–86. For the Cortona drawing: Briganti 1982, 286.27; for the Testa sheet at Windsor: Christian 2002, 181–82, 26. See Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 120–23, no. XV, where the painting is discussed at length. Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 110, xii–i (as by or after Sweerts). Many copies are known suggesting it was a much-admired composition. Bikker Sutton 2002, 15–16; Bikker 2002, 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, 27–28. Ibid., 28–31, figs 25, 27. Ibid., 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, 25–26. Lock 2010, 251; Bikker 2002, 31. Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 133–35, no. xix (G. Jansen). Present whereabouts unknown; see Amsterdam, San Francisco and elsewhere 2002, 133, 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, 51, under no. 34, 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, 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 Wilton; this was acquired by Rockingham, for his VILLA at 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  cat.), was mentioned in a letter 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; 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 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   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. 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 30, 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 and Wallerant Vaillant, who reproduced it from the same viewpoint (see cat. 14, 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, 27. Goeree 1697, 91. Gasparri 2009–10, 2, 55–57, no. 32 (F. Coraggio), and 188–89, pl. XXXII, figs 1–4. Charlton-Jones 1991, 100–01, pl. 89. The subject of the Louvre drawing (Guiffrey and Marcel 1907–75, 1, no. 1353) was identified by Rausa 2007a, 172, no. 165.1. Fusco 1997, 56. Coltman 2009, 87. Sold as Huygens at Sotheby’s, London, 13 April 1992, lot 260. Broos and Schapelhouman 1993, 51, no. 34 (B. Broos). Amsterdam 1992, 37, no. 22 (R. E. Jellema and M. Plomp). Van Gelder 1972, 1–2. Both books are published in their entirety with commentary by Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 2 vols. See also Bolten 1985, 257–58 and Plomp 2010, 39–47. Bolten 1985, 71. Van Gelder 1972, 19. Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 1, 106–08, nos 18–22, 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, 1, 15–16, 155). Van Gelder 1972, 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, 8–9 and especially Turner and White 2014, 1, 25–67, no. 23. Van Gelder 1972, 11. Van Gelder 1972, 27. Van der Willigen 1866, 137; Washington D.C. 1977, under no. 69 (F. W. Robinson). Haarlem 1990, 16–17, 34–38. 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 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 30, 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 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, 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, 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  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 30, 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 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 Bisschop’s Icones, 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, 5).11 And the pensive Muse, possibly Clio, at the upper right of the 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 avl For Pittura from Ripa’s first illustrated edition (1603), see Buscaroli 1992, 357 and in the Dutch edition of 1698, reprinted in 1699, see Hoorn 1698, II, 515 [c]. Armenini 1587, 52–59 (book 1, chap. 7); Alberti 1604, 5 (quoting Federico Zuccaro); Roman 1984, 91. Nagler (1966, 3, no. 2100) and Wurzbach (1906–11, 1, 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, 286–88, no. 70; 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, 232; Gasparri 2009–10, 3, 17–20, no. 1, repr. on 207–13. Hollstein 1949–2001, 31, 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, 4, 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, 1, 110–11, no. 26, 2, pl. 26; Helbig 1963–72, 1, 194, no. 250). Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 1, 184–85, no. 98, 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, 1, 108–10, no. 24, 2, pl. 24). Van Gelder and Jost 1985, 1, 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, 1, 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, 37. Published in Brussels by Mertens 1865; Lawrence 1986, 283. Mertens 1865; Lawrence 1986, 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, 140, no. 51; Mariette 1996–2003, 3, 511, no. 76, 189; Kutschera-Woborsky 1919, 9–28, 5; Goldstein 1978, 1, 1; Rudolph 1978, Appendix, 203, n. 38; Philadelphia 1980–81, 114–16, no. 101 A (A. E. Golahny); Johns 1988, 17–21, 5; Goldstein 1989, p.156, 1; Winner 1992, 1; Jaffé 1994, 128, under no. 251 646; Mertens 1994, 222–24, 94; Goldstein 1996, 47, 14; Rome 2000b, 2, 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, 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 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, 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 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 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 41, 54 and cat. 23, 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 30, 32 and cat. 7, 1), by a Venus Pudica reminiscent of the Venus de’Medici (see 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 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 – Errard and Brun. 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, 625, 636, 639. See Baldinucci 1975, 307. On Maratti’s cult for and imitation of Raphael see also Mena Marqués 1990. Goldstein 1978, 3. For the text of Bellori’s Idea see Bellori 1976, 13–25, and for an English translation see Bellori 2005, 55–65. On it see Mahon 1947, esp. 109– 54, 242–43; Panofsky 1968, 103–11; Bellori 1976, esp. xxix–xl; Barasch 2000, 1, 315–22; Cropper 2000. On Maratti’s role within the Accademia see Goldstein 1978, esp. 2–5. On Bellori’s see Cipriani 2000. Jaffé 1994, 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, 2, 483, no. 1 (S. Rudolph). Philadelphia 1980–81, 116, note 3 and 4; Winner 1992, 512, 5. Bellori 1976, 629–31. On Del Carpio’s commission see Haskell 1980, 190–92; Pierguidi 2008; Frutos Sastre 2009, 369–71. For other drawings of the series, see Winner 1992. For the drawing (Louvre, Paris, inv. 17950) see Rome 2000b, 2, 484, no. 3 (S. Rudolph). For the print see Philadelphia 1980–81, 114–16, no. 101 B (A. E. Golahny); Rome 2000b, 2, 484–85, no. 4 (S. Rudolph). For the transcription of the print’s inscription see Winner 1992, 517–18, note 7. See Philadelphia 1980–81, 114–16, no. 101 A and B (A. E. Golahny); Rome 2000b, 2, 483, no. 2 (S. Rudolph). This second state contains the address of Frey. Rudolph (Rome 2000b, 2, 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, 203, no 38. Kutschera-Woborsky 1919; Winner 1992, especially 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, 629–31. For an English translation, see Bellori 2005, 422–23. Bellori’s unfinished biography of Maratti was first published with modifications in 1731 and independently in 1732. See Bellori 1976, 571, note 1; Bellori 2005, 435, note 4. For modern critical editions of the text, see Bellori 1976, 569–654; Bellori 2005, 395–440. Winner (1992, 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 17–18. Bellori 1976, 630; Bellori 2005, 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 5, ch. XXII, 12, ch. LVII. Bellori 1976, 631; Bellori 2005, 423. Bellori 1976, 629; Bellori 2005, 422. On Bellori’s sources in general see esp. Barocchi 2000; Perini 2000a. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 6, 109. See also Vasari’s introduction to his chapter on Sculpture: Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 1, 84–86. Lomazzo 1584, 262 (book V, chap. 7). Zuccaro 1607, 2, 29–30 (book II, chap. 6). See Armenini 1587, 63–67 (book I, chap. 8); Bellori 1976, 630; Bellori 2005, 423. On this see also Pierguidi 2014. Bellori had specifically praised the Farnese Hercules and the Venus de’Medici in his Idea: Bellori 1976, 18; Bellori 2005, 59. On this see also Winner 1992, 532. On the Farnese Hercules see Haskell and Penny 1981, 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, 3, 17–20, no. 1. On the Venus de’ Medici see Haskell and Penny 1981, 325–28, no. 88; Cecchi and Gasparri 2009, 74–75, no. 64 (137). On the Belvedere Antinous see Haskell and Penny 1981, 141–43, no. 4; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 62, no. 10. Bellori 1976, 630; Bellori 2005, 423. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 3, 399, 4, 5–6. See also Blunt 1978, 93–99. Bettarini and Barocchi 1966–87, 3, 399; Bellori 1976, 625–26; Bellori 2005, 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. 6 of the Proemio and 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, 117; Goldstein 1970, 227–41; Bousquet 1980, 110–11; Goldstein 1996, 45–46. Mahon 1947, 188–89. Missirini 1823, 145–46 (ch. XCI); Mahon 1947, 189; Goldstein 1996, 46. Missirini 1823, 145. Ibid., 146. Boschini 1674; Malvasia 1678. Bellori 1976, 627; Bellori 2005, 421. On the ‘statuelike’ concept, or ‘statuino’ see esp. Malvasia 1678, 1, 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 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, 2, 484–85, no. 4. earlier, with the Allegory of Ignorance as its pendant   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, 142, no. 3348; Mirimonde 1958, 282, 3; Princeton 1977, 22–23, 3; Troyes, Nîmes and elsewhere 1977, 80, under no. 42; Roland Michel 1987, 58–59, 45; Foster 1998, 55–56, 13; Amsterdam and Paris 2002–03, 85–88, under no. 25; Paris 2009–10, 40, 13; Petherbridge 2010, 222, pl. 152; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, 122, repr., 336, no. D. 370, repr.; Rowell 2012, 179–80, 9; London 2013–14, 8, repr., 69, 24. selected exhibitions: London 1950, 18, no. 54; London, York and elsewhere 1953, 27–28, no. 79, not repr.; London 1953, 91–92, no. 391, not repr. (K. T. Parker and J. Byam Shaw); Los Angeles 1961, 51, 58, no. 25; London 1962, 9–10, no. 37, not repr.; Swansea 1962, unpaginated, no. 38; London 1968a, 101, no. 490 (D. Sutton); King’s Lynn 1985, vi, no. 33, not repr.; London 1991, 80, no. 35 (G. Kennedy); Paris 2000–01, 405–06, no. 210 (J.-P. Cuzin); London and New York 2012–13, 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 Lemoyne, 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 30, 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 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 Argenville, that the great painter Champaigne 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, 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 2. 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 30, 32; cat. 7), the Laocoön (see 26, 19; cat. 5), the Venus de’ Medici (see 42, 56) and the Borghese Gladiator (see 41, 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    3. (top left) François Perrier, Farnese Hercules, plate 4, from Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome, 1638 4. (top right) François Perrier, Laocoön, plate 1, from Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome, 1638 5. (bottom left) François Perrier, Venus de’Medici, plate 83, from Segmenta nobilium signorum et statuarum, Rome, 1638 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 Colbert 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, 33. See the 11th article of the 1664 reformed statutes of the Académie: Montaiglon 1875–92, 1, 253. See also London 2013–14, 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, 481, no. D.794, repr. in colour at 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, 415–29; London 2013–14, 62–69. Guérin 1715, 148, no. 49; London 2013–14, 94, note 62. On the pose of the two models see also Foster 1998, 56–57. On the Pasquino see Haskell and Penny 1981, 291–96, no. 72; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 202, no. 155 Lichtenstein and Michel 2006-12, 1.1, 374–77. See also Goldstein 1996, 150. Dezailler d’Argenville 1745–52, 2, 182. Macsotay 2010, 189–90. As noted by Gillian Kennedy in London 1991, 80, no. 35. I wish to thank Camilla Pietrabissa for a fruitful discussion on the subject. Carradori 1802, esp. 3–4, article 2, and plate 5; Carradori 2002, 23–24, and 60–61, plate 5. London 2013–14, 34. On the Farnese Hercules see Haskell and Penny 1981, 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri 2009–10, 3, 17–20, no. 1. On the Laocoön see Haskell and Penny 1981, 243–47, no. 52; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 164–68, no. 122. On the Venus de’ Medici see Haskell and Penny 1981, 325–28, no. 88. On the Borghese Gladiator see Haskell and Penny 1981, 221–24, no. 43; Paris 2000–01, no. 1, 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, 45–46. Guérin 1715, 62, no. 35, 105–06, nos 1–2, 185, no. 41; London and New York 2012–13, 162; London 2013–14, 94, note 62. On Perrier’s Segmenta see Picozzi 2000; Laveissière 2011; Di Cosmo 2013; Fatticcioni 2013. Bosse 1649, 98. On the success of the Segmenta see Haskell and Penny 1981, 21; Goldstein 1996, 144; Coquery 2000, 43–44. See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 42. London 2013–14, 53. On a similar display in the real École du modèle see Guérin 1715, 258 London 1991, 80, no. 35; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, 334, no. D.362; London and New York 2012–13, 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, 334, no. D.362. I would like to thank Alastair Laing for discussing these two paintings with me. London 1991, 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, 7 and p. 180, note 27. Guérin 1715, p. 165, no. 1. See Lichtenstein and Michel 2006–12, passim. Guérin 1715, 257–60. See also Foster 1998, 56–57; Schnapper 2000; Macsotay 2010. Locquin 1912, 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, 5–13; Schoneveld-Van Stoltz 1989, 216–28; Caviglia- Brunel 2012, 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, 257–60, plate between 256–57; Caviglia-Brunel 2012, p. 334, no. D.362; London and New York 2012–13, 161–62, 68. Montaiglon 1875–92, 5, 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, 46, 62. See the 4th article of the 1648 statutes of the Académie: Montaiglon 1875–92, 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, 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, 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, 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 2. Hubert Robert, The Artist in his Studio, c. 1763–65, oil on canvas, 37 × 48 cm, Museum Boijmans van Beuningen, Rotterdam, 2586 (OK) 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. 4. Hubert Robert, Le Dessinateur, red chalk, 300 × 400 mm, present whereabouts unknown    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, 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, 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., 11, 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, 4, 414). Letters between Marigny and Natoire mention requests from Mariette for drawings: Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, 11, 365, no. 5477; 367, no. 5483; 388, no. 5521; 428, no. 5589. The traditional view that the drawing is a self-portrait (Paris 1922, 16, no. 85; Paris 1933, 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, 1, 76–77, no. 69, 2, pls 79, 81–82. A copy by Cavaceppi in terracotta is preserved in the Museo del Palazzo di Venezia, see Rome 1994, 104, no. 19, repr. For the bust, see Fittschen and Zanker 1983, 1, pp.20–21, no. 19, 2, pls 24–26. For its restoration, see London 1983, 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, 264, no. 310, 270, no. 624 and 286, no. 109). For surviving copies by Cavaceppi, predominantly acquired by English collectors, see Howard 1970, 123, figs 8 and 9, 128; Howard 1982, 240, no. 6, 313, 133, 83, 251, 25–26, 326, 211, 264, no. 14, 268, no. 15, 419; I. Bignamini, in London and Rome 1996–97, 211–12, no. 159; D. Walker, in Philadelphia and Houston 2000, 242, no. 120. This is not, however, Faustina, as Marianne Roland Michel proposed (Marseille 2001, 96, no. 109). For the painting, see J. Ebeling, in Ottawa, Washington D.C. and elsewhere 2003–04, 308–09, no. 92, 372, with select previous literature listed. See Haskell and Penny 1981, 119–20, no. 42, 114. Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, 12, 86, no. 5856. Paris, Louvre. Méjanès 2006, 77, no. 33 and Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, 140–41, no. 53. The connection was first noted by J. de Cayeux in Rome 1990–91, 191, under cat. no. 135. On Breteuil, see Yavchitz-Koehler 1987, 369–78, Depasquale 2001, and Ottawa and Caen 2011–12, 13–17 and 140–41, no. 53. Letter from Natoire to Marigny, 25 April 1759 (Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, 11, 272–73, no. 5346). For the drawings, see letter from Natoire to Marigny, 5 January 1763, Montaiglon and Guiffrey 1887–1912, 11, 455, no. 5636. Compositions by Robert are among the copies made in 1770 by 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, 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, 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, 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, 11, 455, no. 5636 and 462, no. 5649. J.-P. Cuzin, in Paris 2000–01, 373, no. 178. Michel 1998–2000, 60, 62, 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, 65–66, 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. Albani, the nephew of Pope Clement XI and then the most respected private collector of antiquities in Rome, appoints 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       1. View of Cavaceppi’s Roman Studio, engraving, in Raccolta d’antiche statue, 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, 252–55; Piva 2010–11, C. Piva in Rome 2010–11, 418–19, no. IV.1 and Meyer and Piva 2011, 149–55 (for essential bibliography). Howard 1988, 479; Piva 2000, 5; Barr 2008, 86. Goethe 1827–42, 540, cited in C. Piva in Rome 2010–11b, 418–19, no. IV.1. Piva 2000, 6, 17, note 4; Honour and Mariuz 2007, 26, 60–63. For Nollekens, see Howard 1964, 177–89; Coltman 2003, 371–96. For Grignoin, see Ingamells 1997, 433–34. Howard 1988, 479. For Cavaceppi’s works from British collections, see London 1983. Haskell and Penny 1981, 68. Barr 2008, 104 and 184, Appendix B. Some of the same topographical details are discernible in a little-known floor plan of the building (Piva 2000, 10, 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, 13.2. As first noted by Stefan Körner (Körner 2013, under lot 307R). Ibid., under lot lot 307R; U. Müller-Kaspar, in Hüneke 2009, 416, no. 270. Körner 2013, under lot lot 307R; U. Müller-Kaspar, in Hüneke 2009, 430, no. 283. Müller-Kaspar 2009, 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, 395; U. Müller-Kaspar, in Hüneke 2009, pp. 416, 430). Marseille 2001, 96, no. 109. Guiffrey 1869–72, 32, p.25, no. 61: ‘L’intérieur d’un Attelier à Rome, dans lequel on restaure des statues antiques. Cet Attelier est pratiqué et construit dans les debris d’un ancien Temple’. 2. Lucilla Sotto sembianza d’Urania, anch’essa or esistente in Germania, engraving in Raccolta d’antiche statue, 1, Rome, 1768, pl. 58. Photo: Warburg Institute, London 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 4. Kalliope, engraving in Raccolta d’antiche statue, 1, Rome, 1768, pl. 45. Photo: Warburg Institute, London 5. Kalliope, Roman, marble, 98 cm, formerly Berlin, SMBPK, Antikensammlung, Sk 600, lost c. 1945 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 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, 3, 244, no. 6, ‘Campiglia (Giov. – Dom.). 1739. In – fol. -1er état : avant le lettere.’ exhibitions: London 1999b, 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 (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.). 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 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 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 4. Pietro Antonio Pazzi after Giovanni Domenico Campiglia, Self-Portrait of Campiglia, engraving in Museum Florentinum, Florence, 12, 1766, plate XXII, 274 × 176 mm (plate), Sir John Soane’s Museum Library, London, 2848     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, 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, 343–57 and Windsor 2013, 11, 14–15. The corpus of his drawings for the Museum Florentinum are in the Uffizi in Florence (Quieto 1984b, 10) and for the Museo Capitolino, in the Istituto Nazionale per la Grafica in Rome (Quieto 1984b, 10, 17–26, 29–36; I. Sgarbozza in Rome 2010–11b, 402, no. II.15a-b). It is listed by C. Le Blanc (1854–88, 3, 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). 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, 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, 2, 403–04, no. 9. Haskell and Penny 1981, 142 and Krahn 1996. Haskell and Penny 1981, 142; and Winckelmann 1968, 153. Hogarth 1753, 81–83. Faldi 1977, 504, 508, 8. Quieto 1983, 5; Rome 1968, 22, no. 5. Liverpool 1994-95, 72, no. 19. Ibid., 72. Gentleman’s Magazine 1853, 40, 237, as quoted by H. Macandrew 1978, 138. Painted self-portraits are in the Palazzo Altieri, Viterbo (formerly Faldi collection, Rome; Quieto 1983, 5–6, 8, 3, c. 1726–28), the Lemme collection, Rome (ibid., 1983, 5, 7–8, 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, 4–5, 2 and Quieto 2007, 93–94, 27. As that author noted, it reprises the composition of an earlier work painted for the Accademia di San Luca (1983, 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, 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, 3, 244, 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, 3, Rome, 1755, 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, 84, fig. 46; Lyon 1998–99, 109–10, under no. 89, not repr. (A. Themelly); Paris 2000–01, 370, fig. 2; Macsotay 2010, 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 Bottari; both artist and writer had worked together previously on the monumental Museum Florentinum (cat. 19). First published in Italian as Del Museo Capitolino (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 1. Carlo Gregori after Giovanni Domenico Campiglia, The Dying Gladiator, engraving, 202 × 300 mm, plate 68 from Giovanni Gaetano Bottari, Musei Capitolini, 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 Soane 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 2. The Dying Gladiator, Roman copy of a Pergamene original of the 3rd century bc, marble, 93 cm (h), Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. MC0747 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 26, 22 and cat. 19, 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, 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 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 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 53, 92), the first version of which, not coincidentally, was painted at about the same 6. Carlo Gregori after Giovanni Domenico Campiglia, Young Artists Copying the ‘Arrotino’, engraving, 118 × 151 mm, page 225 in Anton Francesco Gori, Museum Florentinum, 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, 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, 484– 86, no. 329 (S. Prosperi Valenti Rodinò); Rome 2004, 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, 59–60. See Haskell and Penny 1981, 224–27, no. 44; Mattei 1987; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010, 428–35. See Haskell and Penny 1981, 143–44, no. 5; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010, 500–01. The statue was exhibited in the museum from 1739 or 1742. Cipriani and Valeriani 1988-91, 2, 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., 3, 9–22, 120, 129–30, 141–46. It was referred to as such in the award ceremony for the Concorso: see Belle Arti 1754, 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, 78–79, no. 24 (M. Pantazzi). On the Wounded Amazon, acquired in 1733 as part of Albani collection, see Weber 1976, 46–56. On the Albani Crater and its base, both previously in the Albani collection, see Grassinger 1991, 189–90, no. 32. On the so-called Agrippina, already recorded in the Capitoline collections in 1566, see Haskell and Penny 1981, 133–34, no. 1; Rome 2011, 324–25, no. 5.9 (A. Avagliano). On their display at that time, see Venuti 1750, 23, 30, 33–34; Arata 1994. For the Antinous Belvedere and the Venus de’ Medici see above 26, 22 and 42, 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, 154–56, no. 11; Bober and Rubinstein 2010, 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, 394, no. 3027, repr.; Giuliano 1979, 100, 13; Michel 1981b, 584, 8; De Seta 1992, 240, repr.; Gasparri 2007, 53, 45 and p. 178, no. 273.4; Macsotay 2010, p. 194; Göttingen 2013–14, p. 208, 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, 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, 58), Peter Paul Rubens (1577–1640; see p. 46, 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    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 55, 94) or Hubert Robert (see 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 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.).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 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, 245, no. 80, 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, 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, 185–86, no. 234. For Cronstedt’s drawing, executed in 1772, now in the National Museum, Stockholm see Palais Farnèse 1980–94, 2, 131, 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, 17, 4 and 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, 3, esp. 38–40. See for instance, Berckenhagen 1970, 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, 2, 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., 2, 182, 3, 130, 153. The Flora was chosen for the third class in painting in 1750: ibid., 2, 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, 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, 1, 1 and in Lapauze 1924, 1, 2. See Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 44–46. These copies now survive in the Musée des Beaux-Arts and in the Musée Borély in Marseille: Paris 1989, 268–69, no. 113 (J.-F. Méjanès). Benoît 1964. Vialla 1910, 484. ‘Ouvrage de 36 feuilles tirées des Porte-feuilles du C[itoye]n S. [sic] Chays...’. See Thieme-Becker 1907–50, 6, 445. See also Le Blanc 1854–88, 1, 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, 1, 46, no. 58 (1802), 76, no. 105 (1804). See also Paris 1989, 268–69, no. 113 (J.-F. Méjanès). 178 179 1 2 3 4 5 aa On the Farnese Hercules see above 30 and cat. 7. On the Farnese Flora see Haskell and Penny 1981, 217–19, no. 41; Gasparri 2009–10, 3, 37–42, no. 8, pl. VI, 1–5 (C. Capaldi). On the Farnese Bull see Haskell and Penny 1981, 165–67, no. 15; Gasparri 2009–10, 3, 20–25 no. 2, pl. II, 1–16 (F. Rausa). See Gasparri 2007, 11 and 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, 565. For a list of artists residing in the palace see Michel 1981b, table between 610–11. Rausa 2007b, 57–60. On Chays (often spelled differently, Chaÿs, Chais, Chaix) see: Thieme- Becker 1907–50, 6, 445; Benoît 1964; Toronto, Ottawa and elsewhere 1972–73, 143–44, no. 23; Paris 1989, 268–69, no. 113 (J.-F. Méjanès); Raspi Serra 1997.  22. Fuseli (Zürich–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, 47, pl. 32; Schiff 1973, 1, 115, 478–79, no. 665, 2, 145, 665; Tomory 1972, 49, 90, 4; Füssli 1973, 60–61, repr.; Schiff and Viotto 1980, pl. viii, no. D35 on 112; Klemm 1986, no. 4; Lindsay 1986, 483–84, 1; Taylor 1987, 125, repr.; Noch- lin 1994, 7–8, 1; Rossi Pinelli 1997, 15, 18, repr.; Bartels 2000, 23, note 2; Patz 2004, 271, 3; Bungarten 2005, cover; Pacini 2008, 55–56, 4; Valverde 2008, 163–64, 5; Trumble 2010, 6–7, repr.; Barroero 2011, no. 22, repr.; Mongi-Vollmer 2013, 294, 127. selected exhibitions: Zurich 1941, no. 251; New York 1954, no. 31; Zurich 1969, no. 165; Copenhagen 1973, 55, no. 21, not repr. (B. Jørnæs); Hamburg 1974–75, 129, no. 45 (G. Schiff); London 1975, 54–55, no. 10 (G. Schiff ); Paris 1975, unpag., no. 10 (G. Schiff ); Milan 1977–78, 19–20, no. 6 (L. Vitali); Geneva 1978, 8, no. 3; Munich 1979–80, 279–80, no. 154 (J. Gage); Tokyo 1983, 62–63, no. 7 (G. Schiff ); Zurich 1984, 49, 179, no. 25; Stockholm 1990, 33, no. 3 (G. Cavalli-Björkman and R. von Holten); Stuttgart 1997–98, 5–7, no. 10 (C. Becker); Zurich 2005, 256, no. 1, frontispiece 2; Paris 2008, 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 22, 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 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 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 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 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 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; 4),19 while the foot and hand appear in an evocative capriccio by Hubert Robert (1733–1808; 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 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 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 et ed 1 Schiff 1973, 479. 2 Ibid., 479. 3 See Pressly 1979; Valverde 2008; Busch 2013. 4 For Fuseli’s biography see Tomory 1972, 9–46; Schiff 1973, 1; Zurich 2005, 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, 345. On Fuseli’s Lectures see in particular Bungarten 2005. 7 Knowles 1831, 3, 90, aphorism no. 88. 8 For these statues see respectively 26, 18; 41, 54; 26, 19; 30, 34. 9 For a checklist of Fuseli’s drawings of ancient sculptures see Schiff 1973, 1, 475–79, Schiff 1973, 1, 450, no. 445 (dated 1771); the ancient scene is taken from D’Hancarville 1766–67, 2, pl. 32. Schiff 1973, 456–57, nos 485 and 487 (c. 1776). See in particular Winckelmann. See also Appendix, no. 15. Schiff 1973, 1, 547, nos 1072 and 1072a (1801–05). Schiff 1973, 1, 496, no. 757. See Powell 1973, 67–75. See in particular Waldkirch 2005, 63–78. For a drawing showing a figure in a similar attire see Schiff 1973, 1, 476, no. 561 (1777–79); and for one with similar blocks in the background ibid., 1, 447, no. 425. For the right hand and the left foot see Stuart Jones 1926, 11, no. 13, pl. 5 (hand), 13–14, no. 21, pl. 5 (foot). For a discussion on the original colos- sal statue see Fittschen and Zanker 1985, 147–52, pls 151–52; Deckers 2005; Parisi Presicce 2007 (in particular for the history of the display); Bardill 2012, 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 et Museum, New York, Codex Mellon, fol. 54r), see Buddensieg 1962; census.bbaw.de/easydb/censusID= 233951. See Paris 2000–01, 371 no. 176 (J.-P. Cuzin); Rome 2004, 346, no. 46 (V. Di Piazza); another similar drawing is in the Louvre, see Viatte 1974, 63 no. 46, 65, 46. See Berckenhagen 1970, 332; Paris 2000–01, 374, no. 180 (J.-P. Cuzin). These details are clearly rendered on the drawings by Della Bella and Robert. Bartels 2000, 23 no. 1.7: ‘Senatus Populus Que Romanus APOLLINIS COLOSSUM A Marco LUCULLO/ COLLOCATUM IN CAPITOLIO DEIN TEMPORE AC VI SUBLATUM EX OCULIS TU TIBI UT ANIMO REPRAESENTES PEDEM VIDE ET ROMANÆ 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, 483. Schiff 1973, 1, 115, 478–79, no. 665, 2, 145, 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: Schiff 1973, 1, 523–24, no. 920; Zurich 2005, 223, no. 184. Remarkable is the closeness of Fuseli’s figure with the famous Democritus by Salvator Rosa (Statens Museum, Copehangen; see Scott 1995, 97, 101; the composition was known also through a number of etchings, see for instance Naples 2008, 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, 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’ 1. Agasias of Ephesus, Borghese Gladiator, c. 100 bc, marble, 199 cm (h), Louvre, Paris, inv. Ma 527  184 185    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, Balen and of Rembrandt and by the many paintings that depict artists making copies of them (see 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, 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 282–83, asserts that Tassaert was ‘the scholar’ of van Aken; Redgrave 1874, 2, 402; Wurzbach 1906–11, 2, 689–90; Thieme-Becker 1907–50, vol, 32, 456; Bénézit 2006, 13, 708–09; Wallens 2010, 328. Edwards (1808, 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, 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. 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, 1, 337). For Tassaert at Houghton, see Twist 2008, 106–07. 4 Wallens. For his engravings, see Le Blanc 1854–88, 4, 9; Wurzbach 1906–11, 2, 689–90; Smith 1878–83, 3, 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, 255, 12.4; Phillips 2013, 127, 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, 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, 281, no. 764. Ibid., 371, no. 1379. Between 1764 and 1768, the school was revitalized under Count Charles Cobenzl (Phillips 2013, 127–28). Paris 2000–01, no. 1, 150–51 (L. Laugier); Pasquier 2000-01b. Haskell and Penny 1981, 221; Laugier 2000–01. See also Aymonino’s essay in this catalogue, 41. Haskell and Penny 1981, 221. Ibid., 221–24, no. 43, 115. For Rubens’ study of sculpture in Roman collections, see Van der Meulen 1994-95, 1, 41–68. For van Balen’s inventory, see Duverger 1984–2009, 4, 200–11. Among the casts listed are the Laocoön, Hercules, Apollo, Athena and Mercury (ibid., 208). Rembrandt’s 1656 bankruptcy inventory (Strauss and Van der Meulen 1979, 349–88) mentions several plaster casts from life, including hands, heads and arms (ibid., 365, 383), and after the antique (‘A plaster cast of a Greek antique’ (Een pleijster gietsel van een Griecks anticq), 383, no. 323). Also mentioned are antique statues of unspecified medium, including a Faustina, Galba, Laocoön, Vitellius (ibid., 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, 82–87 and Muller 2004, especially, 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, 19. See also Muller 1982, 235–36 and Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 72–73. Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 73. Ms de Ganay (formerly Paris, Marquis de Ganay), fols 22r–23r, transcribed and translated in Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 254–58. In addition to the Madrid painting (Georgievska-Shine and Silver 2014, 136, 5.3), the pose of the sculpture was utilised in other drawn and painted composi- tions by the artist (Van der Meulen 1994–95, 1, 239, note 9). De Piles 1708, 139–48; De Piles 1743, 86–92. . Haskell and Penny 1981, 221. However, due to the demand for casts the Borghese tried to stop moulds from being made (Haskell and Penny 1981, 221). Liverpool 2007, 132, no. 10; Clayton 1990, 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, 141–42). Landford’s, London, among lots 1–77. It has been suggested that Rembrandt worked from draped plaster casts, especially during his Leiden years (Gyllenhaal 2008, 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, 2, 46, not repr.; Clayton 1990, 240, no. 159, P9, this impression listed under II, not repr.; Liverpool 2007, 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, 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, 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 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 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 41, 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 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, 159, no. 31. For Yale version of the painting ibid., 159, no. 32. Nicolson 1968, 1, 234, no. 188; London 1990, 61–63, no. 22; Liverpool 2007, 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, 67–69. Ibid., 5. Joseph Wright to William Thompson, Derby 25 March, 1773, in Barker 2009, 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, 49–65. Liverpool 2007, 162, no. 34. For the relationship between Tate, Wright and the Liverpool Society of Artists see Barker 2003, 265–74. For the Nymph with the Shell see Haskell and Penny 1981, 281–82, no. 67; Rome 2000b, 2, 335, no. 10 (F. Rausa); Gaborit and Martinez 2000–01; Paris 2000–01, 327–28, no. 147 (J.-L. Martinez); Rome 2011–12, 402–05 (I. Petrucci, M.-L. Fabréga-Dubert, J.-L. Martinez). Clayton 1990, 236, no. 154, P3. Derby 1997, 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, 25. On this see Roman 1984, 83. See also cat. 1, 80, note 8. Kitson 1966–68, 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. PompeyAlexander Model of a Cow 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; et D. Colnaghi, London, from whom acquired 5 July 1960. literature: Byam Shaw 1962, 212–15, figs 54–55; Hutchison 1986, 192, 27; Wilton 1987, 26, 25; Rossi Pinelli 1988, 255, 4; Nottingham and London 1991, 63, under no. 39, 3; Fenton 2006, 98–99, 100–01, repr.; Kenworthy-Browne 2009, 45–46, pl. 16; Wickham 2010, 300–01, 14; Brook 2010–11, 158, 5. exhibitions: London 1963, 34, no. 87, not repr.; London 1968b, 211–12, no. 651, not repr.; London 1971, 18, no. 71, not repr.; London 1972, 316, no. 521, not repr. (R. Liscombe); York 1973, 40, no. 98, not repr.; London 2001, 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- 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  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, 18) at left centre, behind, in the background, the Faun with Kid, and on the far right, the Dying Gladiator (p. 41, 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 6. Relief from an Honourary Monument to Marcus Aurelius: Triumph, 176–180 ad, marble, 324 × 214 cm, Capitoline Museums, Rome, inv. MC0808 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 Flaxman and Bacon 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 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 9. Plaster Cast of the Head of Trajan, from Trajan’s Column 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, 29–31. For the full admission process see London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, 1, 4, 27 Dec. 1768; Abstract, 18–19. Hutchison1986,p.27.Forthe‘RulesandOrders,forthePlaisterAcademy’, see London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1 Council minutes, 1, 6, 27 Dec. 1768, and 17, ; Abstract 1797, 22–23. For the role of the visitors see ibid., 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. 18–30. See Thomson 1771, 42–43; Strange 1775, 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, 1, 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., 111, 25 Oct. 1771, and 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, et the Paris, leave having been already obtained from his lordship’, London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, 1, 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, 1, 321–22 for Shelburne; for the excavation and purchase of the Cincinnatus and Paris see 1, 162–64, nos 1 and 12; for the excavation and purchase of the Meleager see 1, 180–81, no. 7. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, 1, 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, 251–52, no. 43 and on Duquesnoy’s fame as a ‘classical’ sculptor ibid., 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 32, no. 25, 17 June 1770; see also London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, 1, 72, 17 March 1770. For the Marcus Aurelius relief see Haskell and Penny 1981, 255–56, no. 56; Rome 1986–87. For the relief with warriors see Musso 1989–90, 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, 252–61; New Haven and London 2011–12, 218–21, no. 44 (M. A. Stevens). For Leonardo’s cartoon see London 2011–12, 289–91, no. 86 (L. Syson). Barry 1798, 7. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/3, Council minutes, 3, 99–100, 22 May 1801. They purchased 16 casts in total for £68.10.3. WindsorLiscombe1987. 2. Plaster Casts of the So-Called Lansdowne ‘Cincinnatus’, 1774, 162 cm (h), Royal Academy of Arts, London, inv. 03/1488 3. Lansdowne Paris, Roman copy of the Periodo ADRIANICO – ADRIANO (si veda), from a Greek original of the 4th century bc, marble, 165 cm (h), Louvre, Paris, inv. MNE 946 (n° usuel Ma 4708) 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, 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 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: Robinson; Robinson  (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 60, 105). The young students are busy at work, copying from casts of the Belvedere Torso (p. 26, 23), the Apollo Belvedere (p. 26, 18) and the Borghese Gladiator (p. 41, 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 Cruikshank (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 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  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, 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], 18–30. See Reynolds 1997, 47. London 1997, 170–71, no. 67. See Coutu 2000; Kenworthy-Browne 2009. George 1870–1954, 7 (1793–1800), 118, no. 8519. See ‘Rules of the Antique Academy’: Royal Academy of Arts PC/1/1, Council Minutes, 1, 4–6, 27 Dec. 1768, quoted in Hutchison 1986, 31. Farington 1978–98, 1, 281. Pressly 1984, 87. Farington 1978–98, 2, 461–62. Ibid., 2, 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 26, 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, 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, 91–93, repr.; Owens 2013, 102–03, pl. 76. exhibitions: Nottingham and London 1991, 51, no. 18 (M. Postle); Munich and Rome 1998–99, 49, 50, 164, no. 62 (M. Ewel and I. von zur Mühlen); Munich and Cologne 2002, 414, no. 192 (J. Rees); London 2011 (no catalogue). Victoria and Albert Museum, Prints et 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, 16, repr. exhibitions: Not previously exhibited. Victoria and Albert Museum, Prints et 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, 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 60, 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 30, 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–   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) 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) 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 et jy For Turner’s attendance at the Academy see Hutchison 1960–62, 130. Finberg 1909, 1, 6–8. See also Wilton 2012. Pressly 1984, 90. Reynolds 1997, 177–78. On the medals see Hutchison 1986, 34; Baretti [1781], 28; see also London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, 1, 24, 20 May 1769. For the Council Chamber see Baretti [1781], 25–26. On the two copies of the Torso in the Royal Academy see Baretti [1781], 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, 1, 70, 17 March 1770; on Turner’s donation see Gage 1987, 33. Pressly 1984, 90. Hutchison 1960–62, 130. See Gage 1987, 32–33. Redgrave and Redgrave 1890, 234, quoted in Gage 1987, 33.   202 203 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, 8–9, fig.1; Cook 1985, 44–45, 41; Walker 1986, 320–22, pl. A; Cruickshank 1992, 60–61, 5; Morley 1993, 228, 285, pl. LVII; Webster 2011, 425, 321. exhibitions: Essen 1992, 432–36, no. 360a (C. Fox and I. Jenkins); London 1995 (no catalogue); London and Rome 1996–97, 258–60, no. 214 (I. Jenkins); London 2000, 229–30, no. 167; London 2001, 42, no. 72; London.  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 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 et 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 Nollekens 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 et 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, 132–33, fig.150 exhibitions: London 1999a, 160, no. 68 (H. Dorey); Munich 2013–14, 43; London 2014, (unpaginated). Sir John Soane’s Museum, London, For Townley see particularly Coltman 2009. Dallaway 1816, 319, 328. Smith 1829, 1, 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, 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, 42, no. 71 (with previous bibliography). Webster. London and Rome 1996–97, 258–60. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/1, Council minutes, 1, 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 et Roman Antiquities, inv. 1805,0703.7. London, Royal Academy of Arts, PC/1/2, Council minutes, 2, 173–4, 3 Nov. 1792. The original marble bust is in the British Museum, Department of Greek et 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, 2, 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 Farington 1978-98, 3, 840. 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 et Roman Antiquities, London, inv. 1805,0703.43 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 et 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, 47. Soane subsequently entered the office of Henry Holland in 1772. Bingham 1993, 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, 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, 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. See: Dorey 2010, 606. Watkin 1996, p.579. Observations 1812, 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, 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; 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 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     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 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; 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; 40, 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, 2, 368–69; Thieme- Becker 1907–50, 3, 387; Scheen  Van der Aa 1852–78, 2, 368–69. 3 Ibid., 2, 369; For the society and his involvement therein, see Amsterdam 1994, 2–3 [unpaginated]. 4 Ibid. 5 Ibid.; Amsterdam 1994, 3 [unpaginated]. 6 Amsterdam 1994, 3 [unpaginated]; Berg also oversaw private classes where students drew after nude female models. 7 Ibid., 3–4 [unpaginated], no. 9. 8 Bulletin van het Rijksmuseum, 45, no. 3, 1997, 239, fig. 9. For an in-depth study of this device, known in the 18th century as an ‘optical machine’, see Koenderink 2013, 192–206. 9 Puyvelde 1944, 20, no. 81, pl. 142; Amsterdam 1994, 2 [unpaginated]. 10 Puyvelde 1944, 20–21, 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, 2 [unpagi- nated]. 12 On the role of casts, see Amsterdam 1994, 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, 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, 62–66, no. 1 (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, 3 [unpaginated]; Bulletin van het Rijksmuseum, 45, no. 3, 1997, 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, 12–67. See also Goldstein 1996, 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, 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, 62–64. See Los Angeles, Austin and elsewhere 1976–77, especially 13–58; Goldstein 1996, 62–63. Söderlind 1999, 23. For the statue, see Spinola 1996–2004, 2, 61, fig. 11, 63, no. 85; Piva 2007, 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, 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, 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 et 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, 11–13; Staring 1956, 174, fig. LIV; Van Regteren Altena 1970, 312, 316; Praz 1971, 37; Van Tuyll 1988, 17–18, fig. 21; Haarlem 1990, 35–36. exhibitions: Rotterdam 1946, 8, no. 13; London 1947, 4, no. 2; Amsterdam 1947–48, 8, no. 10; Haarlem 1972, 25–26, no. 29, fig. 44; Munich and Haarlem 1986, 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 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 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 42, 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, 25 and Haarlem 1990, 35–36. The Van der Willigen identification was made by A. Staring  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, 316–18, no. 83; Gasparri 2009–10, 1, 73–76, no. 31 and repr. on 267–69. For the Nymph Washing Her Foot after Adriaen de Vries: Amsterdam, Stockholm and elsewhere 1998, 131–33, no. 10. For Duquesnoy’s Mercury, of which there are several versions, some of them slightly different, see Boudon-Mauchel 2005, 264–70. For the Farnese Hercules see Haskell and Penny 1981, 229–32, no. 46; Gasparri. For the Venus de’ Medici see Haskell and Penny 1981, 325–28, no. 88, and for De Vries’ Vulcan’s Forge see Amsterdam, Stockholm and elsewhere 1998, 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, 16–17. Van der Willigen 1809, 282 (colouring etc.), 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, 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, 4, 244; Huebner 1942, 69, 63; Knoef 1947b, 8–10, repr.; Van Holthe tot Echten 1984, 60–63, 4; Jonkman 2010, 35; Geudeker 2010, 60, 78, 74. exhibitions: Amsterdam 1822, no. 222; Moscow and Haarlem 2013–14, 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, 56) 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 30, 32 and cat. 7, 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 et Marschall, Munich in 2003 (as Knud Andreassen Baade), from whom acquired. literature: Zahle 2003, 271, 117 (as Julius Friedlænder (?)); Copenhagen 2004, 110–11, no. 8, 16 (as unknown artist); Fuchs and Salling 2004, 3, 194–95, repr. (as unknown artist). 1 2 3 4 5 mp Haskell and Penny 1981, respectively 205–08, no. 34 (Dancing Faun), 325–28, no. 88 (Venus de’ Medici). T. van Druten, in Moscow and Haarlem 2013–14, 50. Mak van Waay sale, Amsterdam, 26 May 1964, lot 366. Haskell and Penny 1981, 205–08, no. 34 (Dancing Faun), 229–32, no. 46 (Farnese Hercules), 314–15, no. 81 (Borghese Vase). For the Priestess in the Capitoline Museum see Stuart Jones 1912, 345, no. 6, pl. 86; Helbig 1963–72, 2, no. 1227. Koolhaas-Grosfeld and De Vries 1992, 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 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 41, 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 Canova, 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    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. 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 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 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, 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 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, 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.). 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 1. Crouching Venus, Roman copy, 1st c. ad after Hellenistic original, marble, 78 cm (h), Uizi, Florence, inv. no. 188  Zahle 2003, 272. For the history of the Copenhagen Academy see Meldahl and Johansen 1904. Saabye 1980, 6 and Zahle 2003, 272 Zahle Jørnæs 1970, 52. Zahle 2003, 275. Jørnæs 1970, 58. Helsted 1972, lxxxvi. Copenhagen 2004, 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, 269) and records were kept for several years by the art historian Julius Lange (see, for example, Lange 1866). Copenhagen 2004, 198 (S51) and 199 (S61). Haskell and Penny 1981, 210; La Rocca and Parisi Presicce 2010, 446–51, no. 5. Haskell and Penny 1981, 219. Ibid., 220. Copenhagen 2004, 200 (S72). Thieme-Becker 1907–50, 2, 297. Zahle 2003, 271. Copenhagen 2004, 110, no. 7. Ibid., 110, no. 8. Zahle 2003, 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    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 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; 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 Desflaches). Weil-Garris 1981, 246–47, note 39; Roman 1984, 83; Hegener 2008, 401. Ridolfi 1914, 2, 14; Ridolfi 1984, 16. White and Boon 1969, 1, 68, no. B130, 2, 119, repr. Borbein 2000, 31 (see also note 23 listing further bibliography on night- time viewing of casts). Clayton 1990, 236, no. 154, P3. Haskell and Penny 1981, 321–23, no. 86, 171. The authors catalogue the example in the Uffizi, Florence, but discuss the other extant versions as well. See Lullie 1954, 10–17 and Havelock 1995, 80–83. Haskell and Penny 1981, 40, 22, 323. The marble version is in the Louvre and the bronze, at Versailles (Souchal 1977–93, 1, 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, 2, 131, 22, 137–38, no. 123 with previous bibliography. Spinola 1996–2004, 2, 137. Ibid. White and Boon 1969, 1, 9–10, no. B21, 2, 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 et Daguerre, Paris, 15 June 2005, lot 56; W. M. Brady et Co., New York, 2005, from whom acquired. literature: Bowyer 2013, 49–50, 36. exhibitions: New York 2005b, no. 13, repr.; Compton Verney and Norwich 2009–10, 12–16, 9, 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 preoccupation 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 Rowlandson in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (c. 1799, 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 Smith, known as ‘Antiquity Smith’, the writer, poet and Keeper of Prints and Drawings at the British Museum from 1816 to 1833 (fig.). On the seller’s board, a reduced cast of the Farnese Hercules (see 30, 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 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 by Houdon, 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; 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 5. William Daniels, Self-Portrait, c. 1845, oil on canvas, 91.5 × 71.7 cm, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, WAG 1724 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 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 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, 341–43; Marillier 1904, 95–98; Thieme- Becker 1907–50, 8, 362–63; Fastnege 1951; Bennett 1978, 1, 79. Spier 1880, chapter 4. The drawing, presumably after a cast of the famous sculpture in the Capitoline Museum, Rome (see cat. 20, 2) remains untraced. Spier 1880, chapter 4. Marillier 1904, 96–97; Fastnege 1951, 80; Bennett 1978, 1, 79. Obituary, Liverpool Journal, 16 October 1880; Liverpool Mercury 15 April 1884; Daily Post Liverpool, June 1908. Liverpool Journal. 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, 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, 117–24; Lambourne 1982; and Simon 2011. Lambourne 1982, 119. Ibid. Clifford 1992; Simon 2011. Lambourne 1982, 121. Simon 2011 [unpaginated]. Ibid., 3. For other images of the subject, see Lambourne 1982, 118–23, figs 1–10. Spier 1880, chapter 2; New York 2005b, under no. 13. Walker et 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, 1, 50, no. IV, no. 7, figs 70–72; Gasparri 2009–10, 2, 15–16, no. 2 (M. Caso), pl. II, 1–4. Liedtke 2007, 2, 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 Shackelford (personal communication). See Washington D.C., Los Angeles and elsewhere 2003-04, 127–32, no. 15 (G. Scherf). Bennett 1978, 1, 80, no. 1724, 2, 129; New York 2005b, under no. 13. Bennett 1978, 1, 83, no. 3114, 2, 134. 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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 C. Sutton), 2002. Amsterdam, Stockholm and elsewhere   Adriaen de Vries, 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. 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 et 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), . Bruges   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 Kjerrman et al.), 2004. Derby 1997 Joseph Wright of Derby: 1734–1797, Derby Museum et 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), 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. 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. Strozzi), 2014. Geneva 1978 Johann Heinrich Füssli, Musée d’Art et d’Histoire, Musée Rath Genève, Geneva Göttingen   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.) 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) 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.), . Hamburg  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) 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. London 1947 Dutch Conversation Pieces of the 18th et 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 et 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  France in the Eighteenth Century, Royal Academy of Arts, London (ed. 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 Fuseli, Tate Gallery, London, 1975. London  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). London 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 et 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, . London  A Noble Art: Amateur Artists and Drawing Masters, 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  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   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), 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), 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). 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). 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). Lyon  La fascination de l’antique. 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 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 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 et Oil Sketches 1775–1920, W. M. Brady et Co., New York, 2005. New York 2012–13  Bernini: Sculpting in Clay, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (eds C. D. Dickerson et al.). 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, . Paris   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.), . Paris  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. Cuzin, J. R. Gaborit and A. Pasquier), 2000–01. Paris 2003  A. et D. Martinez, Estampes Anciennes et Modernes. A Collectionner, cat. no. VIII, Paris, . Paris  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 Figures du corps: une leçon d’anatomie à l’École des beaux-arts, École nationale supérieure des beaux-arts, Paris (ed. Comar), 2008–09. Paris 2008–09b Mantegna 1431–1506, Musée du Louvre, Paris (eds G. Agosti and D. Thiébaut), . Paris   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),. 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), . Philadelphia and Houston 2000 Art in Rome in the Eighteenth Century, Philadelphia Museum of Art; Museum of Fine Arts, Houston (eds E. 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. Rubin), . Princeton, Cleveland and elsewhere   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), . Recklinghausen 1964  Torso: das Unvollendete als künstlerische Form, Städtische Kunsthalle, Recklinghausen. Rome  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 (Faldi), . Rome   David e Roma, Villa Medici, Rome. Rome  Rilievi storici Capitolini: il restauro dei pannelli di Adriano e di Marco Aurelio nel Palazzo dei Conservatori, Musei Capitolini, Rome (ed. E. La Rocca). Rome Da Pisanello alla nascita dei Musei Capitolini. L’Antico a Roma all vigilia del Rinascimento, Musei Capitolini, Rome (eds A. Cavallaro and E. Parlato). Rome La Colonna Traiana e gli artisti francesi da Luigi XIV a Napoleone I, Accademia di Francia a Roma (ed. Morel), . Rome   J. H. Fragonard e H. Robert a Roma, Villa Medici, Rome (eds C. Boulot et al.). Rome  La Collezione Boncompagni Ludovisi: Algardi, Bernini e la fortuna dell’antico, Palazzo Ruspoli, Rome (ed. A. Giuliano). Rome   Bartolomeo Cavaceppi scultore romano, Museo del Palazzo di Venezia, Rome, (M. G. Barberini and C. Gasparri), . Rome   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). Rome   L’idea del bello: viaggio per Roma nel Seicento con Giovan Pietro Bellori, Palazzo delle Esposizioni, Rome (eds E. Borea and C. Gasparri). Rome Raffaello da Firenze a Roma, Galleria Borghese, Rome (ed. A. Coliva), . Rome  I Giustiniani e l’antico, Palazzo Fontana di Trevi, Rome (G. Fusconi). Rome  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  La Roma d’Alberti. Umanisti, architetti e artisti alla scoperta dell’antico nella città del Quattrocento, Musei Capitolini, Rome (ed. F. Fiore). Rome   Il Settecento a Roma, Palazzo Venezia, Rome (eds A. Lo Bianco and Negro). Rome   Laocoonte: Alle origini dei Musei Vaticani, Musei Vaticani, Vatican, Rome (eds F. Buranelli et al.). Rome  Dürer e l’Italia, Scuderie del Quirinale, Rome (ed. K. Hermann Fiore), . Rome   Ricordi dell’antico: sculture, porcellane e arredi del Grand Tour, Musei Capitolini, Rome (eds A. D’Agliano and L. Melegati). Rome –11a Palazzo Farnèse. Dalle collezioni rinascimentali ad Ambasciata di Francia, Palazzo Farnese, Rome (ed. F. Buranelli),. Rome   Roma e l’Antico. Realtà e visione nel ‘700, Fondazione Roma Museo, Rome (eds C. Brook and V. Curzi). Rome 2011 Ritratti: le tante faccie del potere, Musei Capitolini, Rome (eds E. La Rocca, C. Parisi Presicce and A. Lo Monaco), . Rome   I Borghese e l’Antico, Galleria Borghese, Rome (eds A. Coliva et al.). 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). Rome forthcoming  Spinario. Storia e fortuna, Musei Capitolini, Rome (ed. C. Parisi Presicce), forthcoming. Rome, Dijon and elsewhere 1976 Piranese et les francais, Villa Medici, Rome; Palais des Etats de Bourgogne, Dijon; Hotel de Sully, Paris, 1976. Rome and Paris   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). Rome, University Park (PA) and elsewhere   Prize winning drawings from the Roman Academy, 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), . Rotterdam   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), . Stuttgart   Johann Heinrich Füssli. Das Verlorene Paradies, Staatsgalerie Stuttgart (ed. C. Becker and C. Hattendorrf), . Swansea  Exhibition of French Master Drawings, Glynn Vivian Art Gallery, Swansea. Toledo, Chicago and elsewhere 1975–76 The Age of Louis XV: French Painting, The Toledo Museum of Art, Ohio; Art Institute of Chicago; National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa (ed. Rosenberg), 1975–76. Tokyo  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). Tokyo   Henry Fuseli, National Museum of Western Art and City Art Museum Kitakyushu, Tokyo (ed. G. Schiff). Toronto, Ottawa and elsewhere  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 Rosenberg), . Tours and Toulouse  Les peintres du roi , Musée des Beaux-Arts de Tours; Musée des Augustins à Toulouse (eds P. Rosenberg et al.), Paris. Troyes, Nîmes and elsewhere   Charles-Joseph Natoire (Nîmes, 1700 – Castel Gandolfo): peintures, dessins, estampes et tapisseries des collections publiques françaises, Musée des Beaux-Arts, Troyes; Musée des Beaux- Arts, Nîmes; Villa Medici, Rome, . Venice  Tiziano e la silografia veneziana del Cinquecento, Fondazione Giorgio Cini, Venice (eds M. Muraro and D. Rosand), Venice  Vienna  Zauber der Medusa. Europäische Manierismen, Wiener Künstlerhaus, Vienna (ed. W. Hofmann). 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). Washington D.C.  Hubert Robert: Drawings et Watercolors, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (V. Carlson), 1978–79. Washington D.C.  The Drawings of Annibale Carracci, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (eds D. Benati et al.). Washington D.C., Los Angeles and elsewhere  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.), . Williamstown, Madison and elsewhere  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). Windsor   Paper palaces: The Topham Collection as a Source for British Neo-Classicism, The Verey Gallery, Eton College, Windsor (A. Aymonino et al.), 2013. York  A Candidate for Praise. William Manson 1725–97, Precentor of York, York Art Gallery and York Minster Library (eds B. Barr and J. Ingamells). Zurich Füssli: Zur Zweihundertjahrfeier und Gedächtnisausstellung, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich (ed. W. Wartmann and M. Fischer), 1941. Zurich  Johann Heinrich Füssli, , Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich, . Zurich 1984 Meisterwerke aus der Graphischen eichnungen, Aquarelli, Pastelle, Collagen aus fünf Jahrhunderten, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich. Zurich  Füssli. The Wild Swiss, Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich (ed. F. Lentzsch), Royal Collection Trust/Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. Royal Collection Trust/Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2015 bpk, Berlin / Museum der bildenden Künste, Leipzig 64. bpk, Berlin / Museum der bildenden Künste, Leipzig . The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection 66. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 67. The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London . Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 69. bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais 71. bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais 72. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 75. Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford 76. Su gentile concessione del Museo Biblioteca Archivio di Bassano del Grappa 77. Photo Les Arts décoratifs 78. Photo Les Arts décoratifs. National Library of Medicine National Library of Medicine The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Lincoln Kirstein, metmuseum.org . Royal Academy of Arts, London 83. bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais 84. Royal Academy of Arts, London Royal Academy of Arts, London 86. Private collection 87. bpk, Berlin / École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais 88. Philadelphia Museum of Art . Cherbourg-Octeville, musée d’art Thomas-Henry D.Sohier . Heidelberg University Library 91. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved . Staatsgalerie Stuttgart Foto: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart 93. Reproduced by permission of the Provost and Fellows of Eton College 94. bpk, Berlin / Musée du Louvre, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / Susanne Nagy . Musée de Valence, photo Philippe Petiot . Musée de Valence, photo Philippe Petiot Musée de Valence, photo Philippe Petiot Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington 99. Tate, London . Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 101. Royal Academy of Arts, London; Photographer: John Hammond Fig. . RSA, London Fig. 103. RSA, London Fig. 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. . 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) 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. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 2 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow Fig. 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Cat. 3 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow . Courtesy Yvonne Tan Bunzl The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Fig. . bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett, SMB / Volker-H. Schneider The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 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 1. Private collection 2. Kurpfälzisches Museum der Stadt Heidelberg Cat. 5 Exhibit. Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. Vatican Museums and Galleries, Vatican City/ Bridgeman Images 3. The Trustees of the British Museum.  4. Digital image courtesy of the Getty’s Open Content Program 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 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam Cat. 7 Exhibit a. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Exhibit b. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. Teylers Museum, Haarlem 3. Teylers Museum, Haarlem 4. Courtesy Amsterdam Museum Cat. 8 Exhibit. Teylers Museum, Haarlem 1. Teylers Museum, Haarlem 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 1. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni Musée des Beaux-Arts de Dijon. Photo François Jay Cat. 10 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni . Courtesy of the Master and Fellows of Trinity College Cambridge 3. Matthew Hollow 4. The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Cat. 11 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 2. The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Matthew Hollow Cat. 12 Exhibit. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 1. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 4. The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection 5. Detroit Institute of Arts, USA, City of Detroit Purchase/Bridgeman Images 6. Collection Rau for UNICEF / Gruppe Köln, Hans G. Scheib Cat. 13 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. Courtesy Amsterdam Museum 3. Courtesy Municipal Archives of The Hague 4. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 6. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat.  Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. 2015 The Metropolitan Museum of Art/ Art Resource/Scala, Florence Christie’s Images Limited 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 The Metropolitan Museum of Art/Art Resource/Scala, Florence . The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection ‘Nature Perfected’: The Theory et Practice of Drawing after the Antique 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 3. bpk, Berlin / Musée du Louvre, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / Gérard Blot . Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library 5. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Fig.. Albertina, Vienna Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 8. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . Comune di Milano Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 11. Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library 12. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 13. Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam. Loan Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen Foundation (collection Koenigs) / photographer: Studio Tromp, Rotterdam The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 15. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 16. Rijksmuseum, Amseterdam  The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bequest of Phyllis Massar, metmuseum.org 18. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 19. Vatican Museums and Galleries, Vatican City/Bridgeman Images . Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . Royal Museums of Fine Arts of Belgium, Brussels / photo: J. Geleyns / Ro scan 22. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 23. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved . Graphische Sammlung Albertina, Vienna, Austria / Bridgeman Images 26. Vatican Museums and Galleries, Vatican City / Bridgeman Images 27. Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington 28. Albertina, Vienna 29. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved . The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 32. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 33. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy / Bridgeman Images. S.S.P.S.A.E e per il Polo Museale della città di Firenze – Gabinetto Fotografico 35. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 36. Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library. Katrin Bellinger collection 38. bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Jörg P. Anders bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Jörg P. Anders 40. bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider 41. bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider . bpk, Berlin / Kupferstichkabinett / Volker-H. Schneider 44. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) The Metropolitan Museum of Art/ Art Resource/Scala, Florence 46. Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library . Veneranda Biblioteca Ambrosiana – Milano / De Agostini Picture Library 48. Royal Museum for Fine Arts Antwerp Lukas-Art in Flanders vzw, photo Hugo Maertens Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 50. Musea Brugge Lukas-Art in Flanders vzw, photo Hugo Maertens 51. ©Peter Cox/Bonnefantenmuseum Maastricht 52. Minneapolis Institute of Arts, MN, USA, The Walter H. and Valborg P. Ude Memorial Fund/ Bridgeman Images 53. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 54. Louvre, Paris, France/Bridgeman Images 55. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 56. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 57. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . bpk, Berlin / Musée du Louvre, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / Richard Lambert 59. bpk, Berlin / Musée Condé, Chantilly, Dist. RMN – Grand Palais / René-Gabriel Ojéda Royal Collection Trust/Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II   Cat. 15 Exhibit. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 1. Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth / Reproduced by permission of Chatsworth Settlement Trustees / Bridgeman Images 2. Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, CT The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 4. Vatican Museums and Galleries, Vatican City / Bridgeman Images Cat. 16 Exhibit. The Samuel Courtauld Trust, The Courtauld Gallery, London 1. Image courtesy of Sotheby’s 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 3. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 5. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 6. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 17 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 2. Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam / photographer: Studio Tromp, Rotterdam 3. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bequest of Walter C. Baker, metmuseum.org 4. Witt Library, The Courtauld Institute of Art, London Cat. 18 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 3. bpk, Berlin / Antikensammlung, SMB 4. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) bpk, Berlin / Antikensammlung, SMB / Johannes Laurentius . photo Musées de Marseille 7. Photographic Survey, The Courtauld Institute of Art, London. Private collection Cat. 19 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. Accademia Nazionale di San Luca. Tutti i diritti riservati 3. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved . By courtesy of the Trustees of Sir John Soane’s Museum Cat.  Exhibit. By courtesy of the Trustees of Sir John Soane’s Museum 1. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 2. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 3. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 4. The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection 5. Staatsgalerie Stuttgart Foto: Staatsgalerie Stuttgart 6. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 21 Exhibit. bpk / Kunstbibliothek, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin 1. Image courtesy of Sotheby’s 2. Image courtesy of Sotheby’s Cat. 22 Exhibit. 2014 Kunsthaus Zürich. All rights reserved. 1. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Paulo Cipollina 2. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Lorenzo De Masi 3. Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Lorenzo De Masi 4. Istituto Centrale per la Grafica Canoni fotografici (MIBACT) 5. bpk, Berlin / Kunstbibliothek, SMB / Dietmar Katz Cat. 23 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. Louvre, Paris, France/Bridgeman Images 2. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Cat. 24 Exhibit. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 1. Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection Private collection 3. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Cat. 25 Exhibit. Royal Academy of Arts, London 1. Royal Academy of Arts, London 2. Royal Academy of Arts, London 3. bpk, Berlin / RMN – Grand Palais / Stéphane Maréchalle 4. Santa Barbara Museum of Art, Gift of Wright S. Ludington 5. Conway Library, The Courtauld Institute of Art, London . Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 7. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 8. Royal Academy of Arts, London; Photographer: Paul Highnam Royal Academy of Arts, London; Photographer: Paul Highnam Cat.  Exhibit. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved Tate, London  2. Courtesy of www.gjsaville-caricatures.co.uk Cat. 27 Exhibit a. Victoria and Albert Museum, London Exhibit b. Victoria and Albert Museum, London 1. Tate, London 2014 2. Tate, London. Tate, London . Tate, London 2014 Cat. 28 Exhibit. The Trustees of the British Museum. All rights reserved 1. Towneley Hall Art Gallery and Museum, Burnley, Lancashire/Bridgeman Images . Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 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 1. Photo Collection RKD, The Hague 2. Royal Collection Trust/Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2015 3. Klassik Stiftung Weimar, Bestand Museen. Photo Sigrid Geske Cat. 31 Exhibit. Teylers Museum, Haarlem Cat. 32 Exhibit. Teylers Museum, Haarlem 1. Photo Collection RKD, The Hague Cat. 33 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow 1. The National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design, Oslo, photographer Jacques Lathion 2. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) . Archivio Fotografico dei Musei Capitolini. Photo Zeno Colantoni 4. Louvre, Paris, France / Bridgeman Images 5. Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) 6. Courtesy of Pontus Kjerrman Cat. 34 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) Courtesy of Olga Liubimova Tomas Abad Cat. 35 Exhibit. Matthew Hollow Victoria and Albert Museum, London National Portrait Gallery, London Christie’s Images Limited Photo out of copyright (The Warburg Institute, Photographic Collection) National Museums Liverpool, Walker Art Gallery [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.”

 

Luigi Speranza -- 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carace – Roma – filosofia italiana – Claudio Carace – Charax – Much admired by Antonino.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carchia: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale dell’ars amandi – signi d’amore – erotico del bello – comunicazione degl’amanti primitive – scuola di Torino – filosofia torinese – filosofia piemontese -- filosofia romana – filosofia italiana -- Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Torino). Filosofo torinese. Filosfo piemontese. Filosofo italiano. Torino, Piemonte. 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 et 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 et 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. OVIDIO (vedasi). 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 Co’ focosi, destrieri il caiiro, e Tifi r  Sedea maestro \sair emonia poppa. Ne’ mister} d’ Àmot me fece esjperto Venere 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 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. 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   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   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   L’ onda d’Appio » che giace appiè del Tempio  Di ricchi marmi adorno, a Vener sacro  Prigioniero d’ Amore è 1 ’ Avvocato, 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.  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. APPIO – il primo filosofo romano -- Censore conduce 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 il 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. 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. 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 davano 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 contro 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 guerra di Tehe.Da Giove e da Alcména nacque Ercole, che  fu allevato in Tirinta Città in Marea vicina ad Argo, e però fu detto Tirinzto . Intenta per ciò la gelosa Giunone a vendicarsi delP infedeltà di Giove,  suscitò contro d* Ercole due serpenti ; ma egli li uccise valorosamente, benché fosse di tenera età,    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 comprendevano 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,    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 fesser meritevoli d* un Cavallo, su cui dovean combattere 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 Romolo, dei Tasienzi da Tazio Re dé Sabini, e dei Laceri 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 quarantacinque anni.   Principe de’Senatori o del Senato ne*primi tempi della 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 luminoso 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 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 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 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 Endimione » 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 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,(  a^   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. 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, Europa figlia di Agenorg Re di Fenicia, ^  éorella di Cadmo, era dotata di^ sorprendente^ bellezza. 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, 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. 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   Di Marte e di Nettuno evitò V ira.   Cadde vìttima poi della Consorte.   Chi di Creusa sull’inìqua hamma   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 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, 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 vista 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, Ippolito figlio di Teseo disprezzo Vamorosa  corrispondenza che gli esibì Fedra sua matrigna, Sdegnata ella fieramene di ciò, disse al padre, che le  aveva il medesima insidiato V onestà ^ e Teseo lo abbandonò al furor di Nettuno, Essendo per ciò comparso 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, 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  Ov, Arte (Tarn. b     Fineo figlimi Agenore Re Arcadia yO come ad altri piaqe, di Tracia, o di Paflagonia y sposò Cleopafi^a figlia di Bqrea, e‘. n*ehbe due figli.  O sia che questa morissero che fosse da lui ripudiata 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 illecito commercio con Ija novella sua sposa. Fu da  Borea vendicata V innocenza do* nipoti con Vacciecof-  mento di Fineo, e Giunone e Nettuno gli mandarono sulle mense le Arpie y che a lui macchiavano turpemente 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    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 acclamazioni di gioja la nascita d^ un figlio, gli rispondono 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 consolator 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, 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, 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 malinconici 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 orna 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  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 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 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. 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  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. Oj9e, o Vesta, che ancor dicevi Rea yC la Dea  Buona, è Madre degli Dei, e si chiama Cibale ; perche 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   Ari^nay figlia del Re Minos, s’innamorò perdutamente 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 Ippolita Regina duello Amaz%oni.   Venere amò ardehtemente Adone ^figlio di Cinirq,  e di Mirra, quantunque vivesse continuamente né^ boschi 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 possesso d* Adone, e per gli altri quattro sei godesse Proserpina. Nel Campo martió d facevano in Roma alcuni giochi, pe*quali i giocatori si snudavano interamente, « 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    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 chiama in alto suòli: grida,   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.  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   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   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. 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. VIRGILIO (si veda), Eneid.  I Paooni ^(hrisi ^li at^elH di Giunone, pospr  che solcpano'essLHinàfe ibìqarroidi fonta Dea*,  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, 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 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, Ma fu grato ad entrambe il rapitore.   La donzella di Sciro ìnsiem congiunta 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  Castore e Pollice rapirono le due sorelle Febe e ilavra, che Leucippo padre delle medesime aoea  date in spose a Ida e Linceo, 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. Siacome 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 mandò 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,   Giops, Mercurio, e Nettuno furono henisd*  mo accolti in casa d* Iréo uomo assai povero* Avendo questi domandato medesimi un figlio, che non  dovesse ad alcuna donna la nascita, i tre Ospiti di- E per ritrosa Najado fu Dafni Pallido L^almà discopra il volto  Estenuato ; nè a schifo; avrai di pórre  Sulla nitida ^chioma un pìcòiol manto.  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 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.^  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. Quando 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. Patroclo nipote d^Attore € figlio di Mentàpo  fu amicissimo Achille. Non cercò Fedr^ di sedar T amico.  Di Teseo Piritoo ;aè in altra guisai [  Pilade la consorto af«(ò à' Oreste, Che come Fcho Palla ^ od il tuo  O Tindaro,gemeUo amò ia suora^  Ma non sperato rionofvatì spesson J   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, 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. Castore e Polluce figli di Tindaro amaron la  lor sorella Elena con quell* amore, con cui debbono  i fratelli amare le sorelle. 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  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 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 aveva 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 soprannominato 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. 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   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 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 sponsali gli avrebbe in ricompensa accordato }L dolce possesso 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. 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. 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  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 Giunone 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.) 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, 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 ;   ' ^. t L ; >(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:,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. 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, 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 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. Mostrossi mài? Eppur quella crudele  Soggiacque anch’essa al mèrito d* un uomo,  Narra la fama, Melamon piangesse,   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  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, 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 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, 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   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.) 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 vilmente l»inne con quella man valorosa, con cui per  le rmrabilt sue gesta s’ era colmato di gloria. 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,   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- 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 nomine 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 dolorii 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 incursione 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 VendéQasim Ronia ogni torta di frutti e d*al^  tri generi nella Via sacra, che acquistotti un tal nóme, perchè furono ivi conclusi con gran^ sagrifizf i  patti fra Romolo e Tazior 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,   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 ..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, ^ -, 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 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 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   Penelope soffriva cura mordaeCr  Tu ti dolesti pur, Laodamla, 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 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 comprendere quanto fosse vivo il suo dolore per la lunga dimora che fece fi medesimo alV assedio di Troja.   ^uS^ Laodamia amo sì ardentemente Protesilao detto  in latino Phyllacides daFilaco.4uo avo, che fu sempre 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 richiamato 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 Medea nel sangue vendicò de’figlj  fay) Vedaii V annotaz.  del Lib Del marito il misfatto ^ ed i violati  Dritti di sposa. Àltr^empia genitrice, 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  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, 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.) uccidere il suo   marito. La Dea che sul ombroso Érice monte   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  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 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; 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  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  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. 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 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 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   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    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 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 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  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. 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,  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,    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»         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, uccise 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. 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^ 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.    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   Il figlio scese co* cavalli vivi.   Dalla spietata Enfile^ tradito,   Vivo egli stesso a Stige^havvi pur anco  Penelope che pia serbossi e fida    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, Che, come narran, pria degli anni suoi  Vide Testremo fatele scese a Dite  Ombra indivisa del marito . Mira  La Sposa pegasea dall’empia sorte  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 Tebe, gli si spalancò sotto i piedi la terra, e rimase  in quella sepolto.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 assediata da mille fervidi amanti. Protesilao andò aneW egli all*assedio di Troja,  e fu il primo tra Greci, che vi perdesse la vita poi  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* 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 Disse: m* accogli ; il cener nostro insieme  Si confonda ; e slanciossi in mezzo al rogo;  È la Virtude d’abito e di nome 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   Giason Medea lascia 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. Annotaz. 89 del Lih. /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   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, 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  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.  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  Il latmio Endimion, nè già doveo  Per il rapito Cefalo arrossire    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.    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. 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 ? 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 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*.,   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   \  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, 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) OTTAVIANO (si veda) fabbrica 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;  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 diletta 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 capelli 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 pomata, 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 adoperar polveri d^amido leggiermente torrefatte. La miglior 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 radice di brionia e di celidonia; si faccia il tutto bollire; 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   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^  -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 ÀmaUsta è una gemma, il di. oui colore è-  quasi simile a quel della porpora.    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. 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 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   €2    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 opportuna, 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, 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.   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, imbevute 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. 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 Circeo 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 et 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. ’ 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 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 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 Fenicia 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  Chi è pallida ; e chi è nera abbia ricorso  Al fario, pesce. Un piò lungo e deforme  Sottu candida alunda pgnor si celi,   Nè secche gambe .sciolgansi da lacci. È certo, gU onticfd aoéoano de* medicamenti, 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 guastano la carnagione, mentre tutte le calci metallici^ riprèndono 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 gocce 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.  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^ 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.  Condanna OVIDIO (si veda) a ragione come rozze le mogli degli Ultori popoli forti e a un tempo stesso /«-  voci f che abitarono in Italia sul monte Appennino, I>c Sìrerse sono tre barbari mostri che dimorarono nel mar di Sicilia, Col suon lusinghiero deWarmoniosa 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 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 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 sentito il dolce cànto di quelle . Le donne imparino  dunque a cantare,se ooglionsi conciliare, come dice  Otfidio, P qmore degli uomini, E!ran famigliari a* Romani le canzonette ame^  rose, e spesso lascile, ahe si cantavano in Egitto, ove  scorre il celebre fiume Nilo, 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 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 Vinoso Vecchio. A te Saffo sia nota  (Son più degli altri i carmi suoi lascivi)   E quel per cui viene ingannato il padre 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 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, mentre 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, 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 vino, delle donne y e del giovinetto Batillo. Terenùo compose una commedia, in cui il  padrone, ed il fratello sono ingannati da Geta asti^^  to lor servitore.  one Àttacino cantò ne* suoi versi la spe^  dizione in Coleo degU Argonauti. Il vello d* oro, che    j      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 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. OVIDIO (si veda) 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 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; 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. 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. 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, ® ' 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»   I dardi, 1 ’ armi, le veloci palle;   E il cavallo costretto a gire i^^no. Voi non acosf^il’-campo.o'ra gelata Vergin, nè voi sulle sue placid’ onde j  Porta il toscano fiume* Ah ! voi potete  Gire all’ ombre pompeje, anzi vi giova 1  Quando i destrier del Sole ardono il capo H Paleo i urto strumento fatta a guisa Jt  trottola, eoi quale giocaoano i fanciulli romani fa-  tendalo con una sferza girare intorno. 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. Annoi, q. del fàh. I, ^ 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 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  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 Dicé con OVIDIO (si veda) ancora VIRGILIO (si veda), 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. 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.  Annoi, li del Lib, /. Dice Sirabone che giacevano tre superbi Teatri in vicinanza del Campa  Marzio. 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. 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, 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 sommamente 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 statua 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 Il niTPf 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 effeminato, a cui  Forse molti non mancano amatori. Dee fer la donna ? 11 crederete appena. Ma credetelo pur, Troja' àncor ferma 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, Venere, queste lìti, Ancor vi sono  Pessimi nomi'pei^'non dubbia, fama-. Priamo iruinuava «’ tuoi Trojatti di rtrtdtr   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, 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, 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. Teseo abbandoni Arianna in Nassa, Demofe^nte non serbò a Fillide la premesti^  di ritornarsene a lei dentro due mesi,  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’onor 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 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.  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, 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.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   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; 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  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. 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. 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  Nemesi è 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. Le Muse si chiamavano le Dive pierie, 0 per^  chi abitarono nel monte Pierio in Tessaglia, o perche 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, 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? Odiose vuoi ingann^kT, miei sacri carmi»  T’ osservio puro occhi miglior di quei 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, Terenzio da il nome di Taide ad una  donna lasciva, che forma la parte principale della  sua Commedia intitolata /^Eunuco. 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. (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 . Intento Acrisie a custodir la Figlia, In opra pose ogni più esatta cura:   Eppur col suo delitto il fece eli’ avo. E che fa il Custode, se cotanti  Sono in Roma Teatri, e se a suo grado 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 piccola porzione d’un liquore fatto con un’oncia d’or pigmento 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, Annota (a del lÀb. Presente Può rimirar le corse de* destrieri f  Quando nel tempio d’Isi assister puote 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 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. 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, Era agli uomini vietato V ingresso nel Tem»  pio della Dea Buona o sia di Cibele. 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. 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 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 riposo 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 sua dìletta 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. 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Cardano: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale del valore civico di Melanippo -- Caritone -- the tasteful Milanese maschi – prospero – scuola di Pavia – filosofia pavese – filosofia lombarda -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Pavia). Filosofo pavese. Filosofo lombardo. Filosofo italiano. Pavia, Lombardia. 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. C." 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 et 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) Politices 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 et Chariton et Melanippus erat, mortalium genti auctores coelestis amoris. εὐδαίμων Χαρίτων καὶ Μελάνιππος ἔφυ, θείας ἁγητῆρες ἐφαμερίοις φιλότατος. Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae; Tr. into Latin by Iohannes Schweighaeuser Chariton et 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.  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 et Chariton] igitur deprehensi insidias struxisse Phalaridi, et 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; Tr. 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, 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 d’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. Per esempio, il politico Timarco è perseguito per ragioni politiche per il fatto che si è prostituito. L'oratore che lo difende, Demostene, cita Armodio e Aristogitone, così come Achille e Patroclo, come esempi degl’effetti benefici delle relazioni omosessuali. Con la celebre spiegazione di Cornelio Nepote, nel mondo greco vienne chiamato tiranno chi è signore di una città precedentemente libera Voci correlate Omosessualità militare nella Grecia antica Omosessualità nell'Antica Grecia Pederastia greca Tirannide Aristogitone e Armodio, in Dizionario di storia, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana, Armodio e Aristogitone, su Enciclopedia Britannica. La storia d’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 Œconomia 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.  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 et 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,  et 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 et 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  et 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, et 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, et  artificits. M.S. De  humana compolitione naturalium. De mirabilibus  morbis  Stfymptomatibus. Deaftrorum et 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Cardano: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale del Pietro della Lombardia – scuola di Lumellogno – filosofia lombarda – filosofia novarese – filosofia piemontese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Lumellogno). Filosofo lombardo. Filosofo piemontese. Filosofo italiano. Lumellogno, Novara, Piemonte. 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 Scripturanim 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 instruamus 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 corrigenda esse credentes posteris suis emendaindi vel non sequendi 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 GijDerto 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 testimoniis ut non sit necesse quaerenti librorum numerositatem 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 capitolo un titolo per facilitare le ricerche (Sani, in prol.) Ut autem quod quaeritur facilius occurrat, 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 dell'altra. Questo sforzo di comporre il dissidio ira Taulorità 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 Lombardo. Il 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 teismo degli scolastici vedi: ERCOLE (si veda),  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 demnach 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.). In bis tribus generibus (scil. visionis) illud primum manifestum est omnibus quo vid'etur coelum et omnia oculis conspicua. Nec  illud alterum quo absentia oorporalia cogitantur, insinuare difficile. Coelum enim et terram et quae in eis videre possumus, etiam in eis constituti cogitamus. Et aliquaiido 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 memoria 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 snbstantia 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. Mendacium 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 dicuntur. 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 dicuntur 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 accidentia 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 sacramento della Eucaristia, che sono senza soggetto, poiché 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 myslerium riti ». « Natura multiplex nomen est. Nam et philosophi et ethici 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 anima naturaliter habet intellectum et imaginem et volnntatem et huiusmodi». Le €086 che awemgano per causa seminale, si dice che  aweaigono secondo natura, quelle invece fuori natura avvengano soltanto per volontà divina. Ne viene che ogni  creatura obbedisce a leggi naturali.   (Sent.). Et illa quae secund'um causam seminalem fìunt, dicuntur naturaliter fieri, quia ita  cursus naturae hominibus innotuit. Alia vero praeter naturam, quorum causae tantum suni in deo... omnis creaturae  cursus habet naturales leges. yuale sarà dunque la legge naturale ? Quella che ebbero 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 concetto ^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 sostanza 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 repente 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. 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 simililudinem 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, perchè 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 pìnovvidenza. 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 chiamiamo 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 partecipatione... 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 distaailiam 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 lopgiludine 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 quodammodo 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 autem 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 sarebbe un tempo passato e se nulla dovesse avvenire^ non  vi sarebbe un tempo futuro, e se nulla fosse non vi sarebbe 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 Abelardo ripete qui le parole di Boezio: Stabilisque manens das cuncta momri quando dice: (In ps.) «Et  video, id est sciam, quoniam tu es proprie qui stabiEs manens das cuncta moveri. Garattei'a appunto dell'eternità è la stabilità, del tempo la mutabilità (in epist. ad Hebr. I) « In aeternitate  enim stabilitas est, in tempoire autem varietas ; m aeternitate omnia stamit, in tamporei alia aocedunt, alia sucfcedHint. 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 prinMiGNB  ( Espenberger). Quid est tempus? Si nemo ex me quaerat, scio; si quaerenti explicare velim nescio: fidenter tamen dico scire me, quod si nihil praeteriret, 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 semplicamente 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 Scriptura deum esse creatorem initiumque temporis atque omnium 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 insegna 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 aliquid 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 firmamento 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 possedendolo 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 bisogno 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 alterutrius 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) e d'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.) « 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 utrumque et reflueret totum ad bonum hominis et quod accepit 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 proprieitatem 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.  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. animæ).  August. de quant. animæ). È questione tra i filosofi secondo Giovanni di Salisbury (Mei.) se è una sola potenza la quale  ora sentisse, ora ricoondasse, ora immaginasse o se pur  rimanendo l'anima semplice, essa è dotata di molte  potenze (MieNB) – H. P. Grice, “The Power Structure of the Soul.”. Recolo enim fuisse philosophos, quibus placuit, sicut incorpoream simplicem et individuam esse substantiam animae, ita et unam esse potentiam, quam multipliciter prò  rerum diversitate exercet. Eorum ergo opinio est, quod eadem potentia, nunc sentiat, nunc memoretur, nunc immaginetur; nunc discemat investigando nunc investigata assequendo intelligat. Sed  plures sunt e contrario sentientes animam quidem quantitatem simplicem, sed qualitatibus compositam et sicut multis obnoxiam passionibus, 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 sostanzialmente; e noiii accidentalmente : poiché sebbene relative 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 memoriam, 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, superiorem et inferiorem. Secundum superio«rem, supemis conspiciendis 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 humanarumque scientia, va divisa cosi che sapienza si dica propriamente 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 estensione, 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'anima 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 timore, altro è letizia, altro è tristizia, e queste cose ed altre  dello stesso genere si possono trovare nella natura delVanima 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 assoluto 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^ habet 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 affermaaio con Origene che le anime sono state tutte create  al principio del mondo, e quella di coloro che con i Lu^ciferiani 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 infundendo 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 pensiero 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 derivata. 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 informalum fuerit, multabitur pecunia; quod si formatmn  fuerit, reddel animam prò anima », C. deride le favole di coloro che immaginano 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 essere 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 delTanima : (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 questo 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 Lombardo 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, ALIGHIERI (si veda 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 compenetrala della dogmatica teologica. Quella di C. non diversa in sostanza da quella dei suoi maestri^ si riattaeca 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 determinano la libertà umana e ne distingue due, cioè la ragione 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 spontaneo 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 intieramente la libertà, ma solo quella che ci trattiene dalla miseria 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 responsabile Iddio, che è Tautoire del creato: (in ps.)  « Ila clamel aeger ad medicum, et dicat : Cum libero arbitrio 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 noDas 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 negazione di ogni libertà umana, egli non oppone nulla in questo 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 scolastiche, 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 provvidenza 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 beatitudine 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 videmtur, sic determinamus, dioente», nos et hic et in futuro  frui : sed ibi proprie et perfecle et piene ubi per speciem videbimus quo fruemur, hic autem, dum in spe ambulamus  fruimur quidem sed non adfeo piene... Idem (scil. Augustinus) 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 lolerabilius 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. Tommaso 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 felicità, 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 ultimo. 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.) 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 simpliciter dici debent qui perversam habent causam et intentionem ». E cita a questo proposito le parole di S. Agostino : (enarr. in ps.) « Bonum eriim opus intentio  facitìK   In conseguenza è un'azióne buona confortare i poveri 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'essere, 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, et  seconda dell'intenzione, restava a determinare quale è il  caratieire morale che deve contraddistinguere le nostre azioni e qual norma si deve necessariamente seguire per  muovere al bene : dione insomma dove deve dirigersi- la buona 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.   (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 condurre 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 ricoirdare 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 conforme alla sua propria natura, ogni cosa sarà buona rispetto 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 umano 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 poiché 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 anche del male, giacché il Lombardo come tutti gli Scolastici, concepisce il male come gualche cosa di propriamente 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 causani malae volunfalis: non enim efficiens est, sed deflciens, 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 autore 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, appreoide 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 facilità, 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 viduam 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 diminutivo 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 l’elemento 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 maunifica 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 presuma 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 Parisiensi 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 dairOzanam e dairArriviabene con maggior serietà che mm me(1) 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 ALIGHIERI (si veda) sarebbe andato a  Parigi contro raffestazione di Villani, di Boccaccio, di Benvenuto da IMOLA (si veda) che fanno il  viaggio degli ultimi anni. Ed il chiaro professor Cipolla osserva che è appena credibile che ALIGHIERI (si veda) 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 racconto appare manifesta quando un poco si pensi al modo  come è organizzata la facoltà di FILOSOFIA di Parigi ai tempi  d’ALIGHIERI (si veda).  Il buon vescovo di Fermo volendo mostrarsi molto approfondito nella conoscenza dei gjradi accademici commette degl’errori grossolani: et fuit Bacchalarius – cf. H. P. Grice, B. A. Oxon. -- in vniversitate parisiensi in qua legit Sententias pro forma Magisterii: legit Biblia. Ma si è veduto nella parte storica del lavoro che l’anno in cui il baccelliere éiventsiV a Sententiarius cioè  commenta in pubblico il libro delle Sentenze non precede, ma segue la spiegazione della Sacra scrittura. Dopo quell'anno, il baccelliere si chiama baccalaureus FORMATVS, che risponde, mutatis mutandis al nostro laureando a BOLOGNA. 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 sono e forse Giovanni di Serravalle lo ignora, i sermoni (sermones) e le conferenze  (controversiæ) che si dovevano tenere nei tre o quattro anni che precedeno la licenza ed infine le tre dispute pubbliche di cui la più solenne vienne chiamata sorbonica. Ma la licenzia (LICENTIA) che vienne dopo tali prove accordata e che il Serravallei chiama con termini vaghi inceptio, conventus non esige alcuna pecunia di sorta. Il SerravaUe e tutti i Commentatori si riferivano all’accenno  Dantesco; si come il baccelUer s'arma e non paria,  fin che il MAESTRO (MAGISTER – H. P. Grice, M. A. Oxon) la question propone,  per approvaria e non per terminarla. Par.  - i8, Infatti già il concilio Lateranense proclama due punti fondamentali: la necessità e la gratuità della licenza ed un tale decreto trova posto nelle Definire di Gregorio IX. Solo per eccezione è eoncesso a Comestore, cancellario di Nótre  Dameij per i suoi pregi personali, da Alessandro III, di prelevare uoiia piccola rimunerazione per la concessione della  licenza. Ed ancora il Regolamento 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 cancelliere non potrà esigere da coloro ai quali conferirà la licenza né giunamento, né obbedienza, né denaro, né cauzione, 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. Cipolla nel suo dotto ìavaro Sigieri nella Divina Commedia, dopo avere ossei-vato che il Sigieri ricordato 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 airin e non vi ascoltò le lezioni di Sigieri di Brabante perché  questi era morto avanti il 1300 ( Feret tornando su questa questione nel volume II deiropera cit. (Les Sorbonnistes) crede errat-ì  così, l'opinione del Le Clerc che del Castets, combatte ^e   Giornale storico den« Lett. It.  Torino LoescUer]  asserzioni di Gaston Paris, ed airiimesso che il Sigieri d’ è il SigieriALIGHIERI (si veda) di Brabante che quitla cette vie en reputation 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 argomento 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 davvero 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 aggiungerò 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 sentenze 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, ricordano la definizione di Pier Lombardo: «est spes certa  exjeiotatio futurae beatitudinis veniens ex Dei gralia et  mentis praecedentibus ». (Lib. Seni. IH. dist.).   Iacopo della Lama, rÀnonimo rioooimno assai meno  opportunamente a San Toit^màso: spes est motus appeWiiae virtutis consequens apprehensione boni fulnri adnui possibilis adiptsci. Ho citato, per ppoporre un esempio, uno dei tanti  luoghi ove il Lombardo viene dal poeta preferito all'Aquinale, 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 filosofica. Ma non è questo il solo punto ove un tale raffronto 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 seconde, 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 fascicoli; 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 generoso 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 Pontaniana, il socio residente Alberto Agresti le^e una memoria dal titolo: Eva in Dante ed in Pier Lombardo (1) ed  anch'egli ricordò a proposito di questi studi, Tamico Negroni e lo studio di frate Michele da CARBONARA (si veda).   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 suggerito; 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 esperimento 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 offender l'amico. In un certo modo Adamo fu anch'egli deceptus ! 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 « studiare la D. Commedia al lume dei libri delle Sentenze è  tutto un lavoro nuovo che manca alla letteratura danteca ». 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 d’ALIGHIERI (si veda) e non sulla Divina Commedia soltanto. 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 airinterpretazione' 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 presente nei dannati danteschi (Novara, Tip. Guaglio),  si vale del confronto colla dottrina del Maestro delle Sentenze 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 delFìrrazionale 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 diritto di andar troppo oltre, specie nelle sue conclusioni,  perchè Terudizioflie è alla poesia come la ragione è alla  fede, che il sapere riconosce potene illuminare 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 dalFopera (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 armonica e spesso sin troppo misurata distribuzione delle parti  nei suoi discorsi. Queste ed altre minuzie di logica arTres igitur tortae pani8 tres sunt modi dìvinam paginam intelligendi 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 exultationis et confessionis, constituto die, e condensis usque ad domum  Dei rapiatur; nam sicut allegoria alitar intellectus, ita anagoge superior sermo vel sursum tendens interpretatur. Moralis, idest tropologicus, 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 nelrarido opuscolo di San Pier Damiano, quasi l'unica  tonte del poema dantesco, lo schema dottrinale a cui Damte  avrebbe informato, con perfetta fusione della lettera coll'allegoria^ la Commedia, e annunciare seriamente che distinguendo i 100 canti nelle 42 marcie e fermate {numsioni} 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 spiegazione e sarà aperta la via ad una nuova valutazione  artistica.   Ma tale via non Tha aperta Dante stesso coU'opera  sua? Z/' opuscolo XXXII di S, Pier Damiano fonte diretta della  Divina Commedia? in Grùymaìe Dantesco dir, da G. L. Passerini - 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 Lmnelil^gno dal Capitolo Novarese  Stato delle scuole  novaresi. Pier Lombardo fu allo studio Bolog^nese?   Gap. il  Nell'ombra del cammino 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 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 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. Lm dottrina scolastica in C. e ALIGHIERI (si veda) 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. Nótre 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 gene­rale segno tutto ciò che significa qualche cosa, e fra questi abbiamo anche le parole -- De Magistro.  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 [si­gna] 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.). 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; Markus). 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: 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; 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, 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), 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). Relazione di equivalenza e relazione di im­plicazione 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. L'opera, in forma di dialogo tra Agostino e il figlio Adeodato, inizia stabilendo due fondamentali funzioni del linguaggio: in· segnare (docere) e 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: 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; 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.). 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 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  . AGOSTINO provocare nell'anima dell'interlocutore un verbo simile a quello che si trova nel loro animo mentre parlano (De Trin.). 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: 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 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). 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.).  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): "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.). 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); 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.). 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.). 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 Cri­sto e fu guarita). "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.). 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.). 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. Questo crea una marcata differenza rispetto ad Aristotele, che include i gridi degli animali tra i segni natu­rali (De int.). Ma Aristotele opponeva "naturale" a "convenzionale", mentre i signa data non sono i "segni convenzionali", come Markus aveva suggerito (e come del resto era sta­ to proposto dalla traduzione francese di Combès e Farges). I signa data sono i "segni intenzionali" (Engels; Jackson), e corrispondono a 1:1na  AGOSTINO ben precisa intenzione comunicativa (De doctr. Christ.). 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). 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, il significato o segnato 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.). 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. Si deve notare che Agostino adopera l'espressione verbum in due sen­ si: uno tecnico e specifico, che è quello dell'uso metalinguistico della pa­ rola; uno generale, che corrisponde alla nozione ampia di "parola", co­ me "segno di ciascuna cosa che, proferito dal parlante, possa essere inteso dalJ'ascoltatore. 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. 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. Per questa nozione, cfr. Lotman-Uspenskij. 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 --. Familia patrizia di Novara.  Pietro Cardano. Keywords: Cardano, implicatura. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Cardano” – The Swimming-Pool Library. Cardano.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Cardia: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale del culto del laico – scuola di Roma – filosofia romana – filosofia lazia -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Roma). Filosofo romano. Filosofo lazio. Filosofo italiano. Roma, Lazio. 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 (si veda) 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”. È SPAVENTA (si veda) che si oppone a BERTI (si veda) 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 King’s 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Cardone: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale -- La nudita eroica di Napoleone -- Clark Kent; ovvero, sul sovrumano – trasumanar – l’eroe di Vico – hero-worship -- Annunzio e il fascismo – scuola di Palmi – scuola di Reggio Calabria – filosofia calabrese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Palmi). Filosofo calabrese. Filosofo italiano. Palmi, Reggio Calabria, Calabria. 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 et figli ed); Reazione collettiva (Torino, Paravia et C); I filosofi calabresi nella storia della filosofia, con appendice sui sociologi e gli psicologi, Palmi, A.Genovesi et 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  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 et 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 di Hume, d'una fanatica ipocrisia, Con quanto è in esso di vero, potrà applicarsi molto meglio Napoleone che nons’applica a Cromwell, Maometto od ai loro  simili, per 1 quali realmente, preso et tutto rigore, conteneva a mala pena alcuna stilla di verità. Sin da primcipio, 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 et  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 scoul 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 et que  ste sue macchinazioni esteriori, et 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 ingegnosa, 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! ; notevole come anche a Sant' Elena, sempre; sino et #  ultimi giorni, egli insista sul pratico, sul reale: < A che  parlare e lamentare? et 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 et 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 isprezzo 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. Frenare 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 soltanto 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  tenente del reggimento La Fère, potesse apparire ai proi ‘n erande fra quanti nomini fossero da 56 sto punto; quel fatale elem nto di ciarla0. 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 et 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 teatrale di manti di carta e d'orpello, aveva ravvolta quest'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 conÈ 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     18 fruttidoro (LT9T); © ne ESTA. i  ETTURA SES  ; lui senz alcuna chiblemi 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, et  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 soltanto. 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 menzogna, 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 aspettando il giorno! Ed il giorno venne: € la Germania gli  si sollevò d’ intorno. L'opera di Napoleone sl ridurrà a lungo andare et 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 provare la più sincera meraviglia che tutto sia andato et  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 naura 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 et 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 et  "& 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’ occupazione, 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 riuper penetrarvi un poco, dovetti  Dn DIRE Tronno spesso, con bruuttate 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 Puritanism 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 afterwards, 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 Revolution, 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’ 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carifi: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale dell’ablativi relativi – Roman implicata – scuola di Pistoia – filosofia toscana -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Pistoia). Filosofo toscano. Filosofo italiano. Pistoia, Toscana. 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carle: la ragione conversazionale e le radici del diritto romano – la legge romana – la natura romana – scuola di Chiusa di Pesio – scuola di Cuneo – filosofia piemonese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Chiusa di Pesio). Filosofo piemontese. Filosofo italiano. Chiusa di Pesio, Cuneo, Piemonte. 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, 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 lRoma 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, 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 . 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  C., 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 [ 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, I, parte 2*, 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.  V. Festo, vº Famuli (Bruns, Fontes, 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 . e  PADELLETTI, Storia del dir. rom. 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, 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.  C., 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 a19. 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. 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.  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,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  C., La vita del diritto, lib. I e II, e sopratutto a90 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 a43 nel testo e nelle note 2 e 3 vi ritorna sopra a121 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  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. 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  C., 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.  C., 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 Numæ), 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  C., 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, 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  C., 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 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.  C., 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 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 (si veda) – Ænean 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. 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.  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  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.  C., 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., 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. 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, 31, e nel Bouchè-LECLERCQ, Manuel des institutions romaines, 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, 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.  Il Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome, I, 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, 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, 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. 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 . Tuttavia anche l'opinione del Niebhur  MOMMSEN, Histoire romaine, I, Chap. V, 103.Questa opinione fu poiadottata dal WILLEMS, Le Sénat de la République Romaine,Paris, 1878, 15.  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., 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. 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. 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 .  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, 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.  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 --. 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 , 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. 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  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, 3 ).  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, 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, 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. 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  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). 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., 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. 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.  C., 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. 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 . 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. 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 .  Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome, I, 35.  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, 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.  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. 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.  Nota molto accortamente a questo proposito il Gentile, Le elezioni e il bro glio, 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 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  ; 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  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. 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.  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. Tutto ciò insomma,  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., 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. 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. 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 . 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.  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, 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.  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. 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,  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, 411.186 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. 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. La plebe  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.  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, 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. 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  Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., tenebantur, et ut quisque occupaverat, colebat. 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 , 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. 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  V. Festo, v° Possessiones (Bruns, Fontes, 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, 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 . 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  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. 157. Per tal modo Roma si trovò di fronte al problema di far convivere nelle stesse mura, e di sottoporre all'impero delmedesimo  KARLOWA, Römische Rechtsgeschichte, I, 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, 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. 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, cogli autori citati a 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 , 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. et 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, 664), fosse così concepito: mancipatoque ac forcti sanatique idem iuris esto . Questa lezione stata adottata dal LANGE, Hist. intér. de Rome, I, 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., 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. 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. 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  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, 14 e segg., ove parla dell'origine del diritto e dell'etimologia del vocabolo ius.  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. NELLA POVERTÀ DEL LINGUAGGIO giuridico primitivo il vocabolo mancipium assume significazioni molto diverse, che però riduconsi a due essenziali; a quelle cioè per cui significa: - o ciò  LANGE, Hist. inter. de Rome, I, 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, 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 . 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.  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, 359.  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. 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. 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. 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. 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  Mommsen, Histoire Romaine. Trad. DeGuerle. Paris, 1882, I, 77 et suiv.  SUMNER MAINE, L'ancien droit. Trad. Courcelle Seneuil. Paris, 1874, 121.  Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome. Trad. Berthelot et Didier, Paris, 1885, 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  V. IHERING, L'esprit du droit romain. Trad. Maulenaere. Paris, 1880, I, $ 20, 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, 523.  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. 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 ). 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 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. 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 , 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, 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. 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  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, 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. 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  Quanto alla distinzione dei sacra publica ac privata, è da vedersi Festo, vu Publica sacra (Bruns, Fontes 358), stato già citato a 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, 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 . 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 . La supre  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, 94 e segg., e alla dissertazione: Genesi e sviluppo delle varie forme di convivenza civile e po litica. Torino, 1878.  Pelham, vº Rome (ancient), nell'Encyclopedia Britannica, ninth edition. Edinburgh, 1886, vol. XX, 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 . 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.  GENTILE, Le elezioni e il broglio nella repubblica romana, Milano, 1879, 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 : 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.  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.). 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. 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.  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 ; 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   Munus (scrive Festo, quale è restituito dal Mommsen nell'ultima ediz. del Bruns, Fontes, 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 ; 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  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. 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 . 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  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, 31, il quale anzi nota che la distinzione in tribus, secondo Livio I, 13, si applicherebbe di preferenza agli equites.  Niebhur, Histoire Romaine. Trad. Golbery. Paris, 1830, II, 19. Vedi in proposito ciò, che si è detto parlando delle gentes nel lib. I, cap. III, al nº. 28. 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 ; 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 . 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  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, 151, 152; e il Bloy, Les origines du Sénat romain. Paris, 1883, 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. 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. L'espressione quindi  Questa incertezza di significazione fra potestas ed imperium è notata, fra gli altri, dal KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., 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, 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, 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 , 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 .  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, 8 ); e aggiunge poi a 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  Mommsen, Op. cit., 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. 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, 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 . 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  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, 208 e dal Bouché-LECLERCQ, Manuel des institutions romaines, Paris 1886, 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., 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.  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.  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. 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. 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  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, 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. 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  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. 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. 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  Quanto al compito dei collegi sacerdotali in Roma primitiva, mi rimetto a quanto avrò a dirne in questo stesso libro, capitolo IV,  2º. Secondo il LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, 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. 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 : 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  Cfr. Mommsen, Le droit public romain, I 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, 68 e 69 e sui poteri compresi nell'imperium militiae, ivi, 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. 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  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;  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. 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  Festo, V ° Praeteriti senatores (Bruns, Fontes, 355).  Dion. 2, 12, 14, il cui testo è riportato in greco ed in latino dal Bruns, Fontes, 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. 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  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, 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. 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. 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. 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  Tale è l'opinione sostenuta dal WILLEMS, Le Sénat de la république romaine, Paris, 1878, I, 21 e segg.; dal Bloch, Les origines du Sénat romain, Paris, 1883, 43 e 55; i quali pure accennano alle diverse opinioni professate in proposito.  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. 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. 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  LIV., I, 30; Dion., III, 29.  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 .  PANTALEONI, Storia civile e costituzionale di Roma. Appendice III, 645 a 672. G.  C., 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 ; 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. 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  PANTALEONI, op. cit., 660.  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 . Più tardi poi, allorchè  Il WILLEMS, nella sua opera: Le Sénat de la République romaine, I, 19, 28 e poi anche nel Droit public romain, 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. 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 . 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. Altri invece, fra i  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. Cfr. il Bouché-LECLERCQ, Manueldes institutions romaines, Paris, 1886, 6 e 7, e il BourgeaUD, Le plébiscite en Grèce et en Rome, Paris, 1887, 39.  Cfr. PANTALEONI, Storia civile e costituzionale di Roma. Appendice II, 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 ) ; 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. 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  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 .  LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, 29. Inering, L'esprit du droit ro main, 1, $ 20, 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 . 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 . 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.  Quanto alla distinzione fra comitium e contio, vedi il KARLOWA, Röm. R. G. I, 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.  Combatto qui l'opinione universalmente seguìta dagli autori, specialmente ger manici (v. fra i recenti Karlowa, Röm. R.G.), 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. 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 , 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,  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 .  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. 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 . 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,  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.  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. 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  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 . $ 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  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. 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  È da vedersi, quanto all'auctoritas patrum, questo stesso capitolo,  3º, n° 198, 240. 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. 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, 728,  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. 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  Rimetto la discussione gravissima relativa a queste tre leggi al capitolo se guente  2º, n ° 232dove 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, 439 a 451, come pure a 593, ove parla dell'elezione dei tribuni nei comizii tributi. G.  C., 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. 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.  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, 57 a 76; Karlowa, Röm. R. G.; MORLot, Précis des instit. polit. de Rome. Paris. La primitiva costituzione di Roma nelle sue principali funzioni. $   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 ; 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 . Questo è, a parer mio, il carattere fon  Polibio, Histor., lib. VI.  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, 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 . 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.,  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, 13. 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. Ciò  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 . 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 .  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. 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  V. in senso contrario il FUSTEL DE COULANGES, La cité antique, liv. III, chap. XI, 221 e segg., e fra i recentiilBourgeaud, Leplébiscite dans l'antiquité, Paris, 1887, 91.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. 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  V. sopra capitolo II,  3, n ° 198, 240.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 , 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) ; 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  Così si esprime il Soltau, die Gültigkeit der Plebiscite, Berlin. La bibliografia sulla questione pud vedersi nel BOURGEAUD, Le plébiscite dans l'anti quité, Paris, 1887, 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, 51).  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, 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. 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  233. Da ultimo infine apparve, che anche questa previa approva  È lo stesso Livio, che ci conservò i termini di questa legge.  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., 135, ed è combattuta invece dal Soltau, die Gültigkeit der Ple. biscite, 135, come pure dal Pantaleoni nella 3a parte della sua dissertazione: Dell'auctoritas patrum nell'antica Roma (< Rivista di Filologia , Torino, 1884, 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, 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  . 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  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, 161, n. 178 et suiv. e il Madvig, L'État romain, trad. Morel, Paris, 1882, I, 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 . 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 . 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  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.  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. 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.  Ulp., L. 1, Dig. 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.- 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 . 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,  Bouché-LECLERCQ, Manuel des institutions romaines, Paris, 1886, 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   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.  C., 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, 244, in nota, consentire col Karlowa, Röm. R.G., 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 . 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) . 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  CICERO, Pro domo sua, 14.  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. 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  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, 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, 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, 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 . 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 . 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  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, 593.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.  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 . 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 ). 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  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.  Cfr. Muirhead, Histor. introd., Sect. 15, 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 . 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, 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 . 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  Cfr. Maynz, op. cit., n. 20, 60, e MOMMSEN, Le droit public romain, I, 187:  Magistri (scrive Festo, po magisterare), non solum doctores artium, sed etiam pagoram, societatum, vicorum, collegiorum, equitum dicuntur, unde et magi stratus (Bruns, Fontes, 341). È da vedersi a questo proposito quanto ebbi ad esporre nel lib. I, Capo V, n ° 88, 109 e nota relativa.  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.  C., De exceptionibus in iure romano, 1873, 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 . 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  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, 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. 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 . Così pure si comprende come questa  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., 54.  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 . 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 . 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  Quanto all'origine gentilizia e alla naturale formazione dell'actio sacramento vedasi sopra lib. I, n. 104.  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, 197, e il BuonamiCI, Storia della procedura civile romana. I, Cap. VII, 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 . 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  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 . 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. 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  Liv., I, 26.  Non potrei quindi ammettere l'opinione del KarlowA, Röm. R. G., 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. 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 . 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. Veniamo ora alle leges regiae.  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.  Cfr. Esmein, Le délit d'adultère à Rome e la loi Iulia, de adulteriis, nei Mélanges d'histoire du droit, Paris, 1886, 71 et suiv. Cic., De Rep., II, 1. La legislazione regia durante il periodo esclusivamente patrizio. $  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 . 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 . 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 . 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 . Re, senato e popolo esistono fin dagli esordii di Roma, e a misura che nuovi elementi si aggiungono, il re potrà sce  MUIRHEAD, Historical introduction to the private law of Rome, Edinburgh. 1886, 4.  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, 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. 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. 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  Dion. II, 25 (BRUNS, Fontes, 6 ).  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.  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. 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 50 parla del. l'opinione di coloro, che sostengono che Roma non conoscesse dapprima che la pro prietà degli immobili, ed anche a 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.  L'opinione, qui combattuta, posta innanzi dal DIRKSEN, Die Quellen des röm misches Rechts, Leipzig, 1823, 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., 309; il KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., 52,ed anche il Murrhead, Hist. Introd., 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. 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. 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 , 92, n ° 33, e agli autori, che ivi sono citati.  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  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, 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.  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, 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. 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 . 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.Era poinaturale, che gliauguri, i quali, nella città esclu  Ciò è attestato da Cicer., De div., I, 16, 28. Cfr. MOMMSEN, Le droit public romain, I, 100 e 101.  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. Cfr. MOMMSEN, Op. cit., I, 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. 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 . 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  Cic., De legibus, II, 12.  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, 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 . 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. 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  Bonghi, Storia di Roma, I, 79.  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. 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 . 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  V., quanto al foedus e alla sponsio, il Lib. I, Cap. VII, nº 118.  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 .  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). 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. 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  Cfr. LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, I, 134, e la sua dissertazione: De sacrosanctae potestatis tribuniciae natura. Lipsiae, 1883.  Cfr. Bouché-LECLERCQ, Les Pontifes de l'ancienne Rome. Paris, 1871; Ma nuel des Instit. romaines, 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. Essi dovet  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. 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. 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  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., 121. 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.  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, 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. 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:  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 di Roma. 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. 3º Infine una terza conseguenza di questa trasformazione dovette  È da vedersi in proposito quanto si disse nel capitolo precedente nº. 244, 298.328 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. 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  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. 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 . 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  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, 6.  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, 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). 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. 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.  Festo, v ° Paelices (Bruns, Fontes, 350). Tutti i passi relativi possono vedersi raccolti dal Voigt, über die leges regiae. Leipzig, 1876,  2º, 8.  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, 7 e 9.  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, 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. 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. 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. Così, ad esempio, secondo il Mommsen in Bruns, Fontes, 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, 41.  Dion., II, 9; Cic., De rep., II, 9; Festo, vº Patres (Bruns, 372).  Dion., II, 74; Festo, pº Termino. Cfr. Voiat, Op. cit., $ 9, 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. Ciò vuol dire, che il concetto gentilizio del delitto e della  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. 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, 10. Cfr., per ciò che si riferisce all'omicidio involontario, il Voigt, Op. cit.,  11, 64 a 72.  Cfr. MUIRIEAD, Histor. Introd., 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. 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.  Cfr. MOMMSEN, Le droit public romain, I, 187.  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. 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  . Furono questa scarsità di passi e questa incertezza negli antichi au tori, che provocarono molte indagini per spiegare il fatto, per cui negli  Dion., III, 22; Festo, vº Sororium tigillum; Livio, I, 26.  Liv., 1, 26; Bongai, Storia di Roma, I, 102 e 129.337 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. 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 ; 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  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, 137, $ 1138.  Il primo, che sostenne  paricidam esse, qui parem occidit fu il GEBAUER, Dissertationes academicae, vol. I, 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, 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, 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).  Tale fu l'opinione messa innanzi dal Rubino: Untersuchungen über römische Verfassung und Geschichte. Casellae, 1839, 433-466; e dal Rein, Das Crimi nalrecht der Römer. Lipsiae, 1844, 401.(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, 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.  C., 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. 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  Questa opinione enunziata prima dal WALTER, Storia del diritto romano. Trad. BOLLATI, 8 766, vol. II, 450, fu di recente anche sostenuta dal Maynz, Introd., $ 18, 1, 55. Essa però fu vigorosamente confutata dal Koestlin: Die perduellio unter der römischen Königen. Tubing, 1841, 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. 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 . 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  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, 59.  Cfr. Voigt. Op. cit.,  10, 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. 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  PLUTARCO, Romulus 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. 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  V. Festo, vº Hostis (Bruns, Fontes). 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. 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  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, 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. 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,  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. 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.  A questo proposito tolgo dal Bongai, Storia di Roma. I, 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. 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 . Le curie sono  Dion., II, 10. Cfr. quanto si espose intorno alla clientela, nel Lib. I, Cap. III,  3º, 46 a 52.  Tale è l'opinione del Willems, Le droit public romain, 46e del PADELLETTI, Storia del diritto romano, 48 e seg., nota 2. Il prof. COGLIOLO nella sua nota nº d, 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. 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  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 LIVIO (si veda). 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. 285. Non è qui il caso di entrare in discussioni erudite sull'argo  L'opinione sostenuta dal PADELLETTI è anche seguita dal WILLEMS, Op. cit., 47 e segg.; dal LANDUCCI, Storia del diritto romano, 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. 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. 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  Tale è, ad esempio, l'opinione del LANGE, Histoir. intér. de Rome, I, 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. 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. Non mi trattengo più a lungo su questo punto, perchè ho già dovuto accen narvi nel Lib. I, Cap. X, nº 160, 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.  C., Le origini del diritto di Roma. 23 354 popolo e coll'autorità dei padri:  eum, scrive Livio, ingenti con sensu populus romanus regnare iussit . 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 : 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. 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  Liv., 1, 34; Dion., IV, 2.  Müller O., Die Etrusker. Cfr. PANTALEONI, Storia civile e costituz.di Roma, 134, ove si impugna appunto l'opinione del Müller.  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, 258.355 Roma è già in condizione di conchiudere, anche come rappresen tante del Lazio, un trattato di navigazione con Cartagine. 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 . 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. 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 ).  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.  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, 545.356 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 ; 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 . 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. 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  Questa osservazione è del PANTALEONI, op. cit., p. 149.  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, 32.357 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. 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 ; 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  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, 201, nota 14.  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, 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. 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. 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  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.  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, 548.360 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. 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. 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  Liv., I, 46. 361 paurosa ed imponente alle popolazioni vicine. 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. 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  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.  Questo concetto trovasi efficacemente espresso da Floro nel passo citato al lib. I, cap. I, nº 10, 10, nota 1.  MIDDLETON, Ancient Rome, 59. 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. 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  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, 34.e il Morlot, Institutions politiques de Rome, Paris, 1886, p. 71.363 ascritti tutti i cittadini romani, senza tener conto della effettiva residenza dei medesimi. 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  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., 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 . 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  Quanto alle operazioni relative al censo cfr. WILLEMS, op. cit., 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, 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, 5, nota 8, ed il BONFANTE, Res mancipi e nec mancipi, Roma 1888, 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).  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. 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. Pur ammettendo col Mommsen, Hist. rom., I, cap. VI, e col Peluam, v° Rome,  Encych. Britann.., XX, 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.  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 . 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, 69-70. Sono a vedersi, quanto al valore dell'asse, il WILLEMS, op. cit., 58 e segg., dove son riassunte le diverse opinioni al riguardo, e il Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, I, 16 a 23.  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, 233 e 234. G.  C., 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. 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. 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  NIEBHUR, Histoire romaine, II, 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, 107 a 223: Herzog, Geschichte und System der römischen Staats verfassung, Leipzig; KarlowA, Röm. Rechtsgeschichte, I, SS 11, 12, 13, 64 a 85.  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, 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. 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 . 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  Le formole di convocazione delle classi, conservateci da VARRONE, De ling. lat., VI, 86 a 95, sono riportate dal Bruns, Fontes, 383.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.  V. sopra, lib. II, nº 198, 240e le note relative.  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. 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. 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  MOMMSEN, Rötnische Forschungen.  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 . 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,  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. 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  Queste trasformazioni sono accuratamente seguìte dal Madvig, L'État romain, trad. Morel, Paris 1882, tome 1er, 135.375 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. 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. 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  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.  L'esistenza di comizii calati, proprii delle centurie, è attestata espressamente da Aulo Gellio, XV, 27, 1.  V. quanto alla patrum auctoritas ciò che si è detto al nº 198, 240.376 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. 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,  Cfr. ciò che si è detto più sopra intorno alla provocatio ad populum nel pe riodo regio, n ° 245 e 246, 299.377 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 . 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  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., 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 ; 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  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, 273.e per il pareggiamento che venne facendosi fra le leggi ed i plebisciti ai numeri 231, 232 e 233, 281Solo 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, 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. 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. 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. 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,  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. Con Servio  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, 329.382 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 ) ; 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. 311. Si aggiunge che il contenuto di questi concetti viene anche  Questo è ciò che ho cercato di dimostrare più sopra al nº 266, p. 326. Cfr. a questo proposito ciò, che si è detto intorno alla condizione giuridica della plebe, anteriormente alla sua ammessione nella città, al n ° 287, 351383 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.  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. 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. 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. Infine fu certamente una conseguenza di questo  MOMMSEN, Röm. Forschungen, I, 168.  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.  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., 74, il quale sembra rannodarsi all'opinione del Niebhur, II, 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, 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.  C., 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. 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 ? 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. Fu in tal le que  ARISTOTELES, Politica, ed. Bekker. 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 .  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. 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. – 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. 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   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, 351.  Dion., IV, 25; Liv., I, 49. Cfr. Bonghi, Storia di Roma, I, 209, ove riassume le tradizioni diverse a noi pervenute intorno a Tarquinio il Superbo. LIVIO (si veda); Dion., V, 2. 392 annuo. 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 . 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,  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.  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, 51 e 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, 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. 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 , 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. 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  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, 5; Herzog, Op. cit., I,  32, 580 e segg., e ciò che si disse in proposito al nn. 201-204, 245. 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., 302.  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, 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. 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 . 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). 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  Questa distinzione della plebe in due parti è acutamente notata da leinio GENTILE, Le elezioni e il broglio nella Rep. Rom., 24.  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., 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. 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 . 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. 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.  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, 83-88. Per un racconto più partico lareggiato cfr. il Lange, Histoire intérieure de Rome, livre II, 111 a 217.  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, 281 e seg.; e dei tribuni della plebe n ° 249, 292(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. 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 . Infine è  Quanto all'istituzione dei centumviri e alle varie opinioni intorno all'epoca, a cui rimonta vedi il capitolo precedente, nº 312, 384, nota 3.  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, 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, 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. 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.  Per l'influenza dei pontefici sul diritto civile vedi sopra i numeri 262 e 263, 321colle note relative. Si occupò molto largamente di questo argomento il KARLOWA, Röm. R. G., 1, $ 43, 219Trovasi poi un esattissimo elenco dei libri, annali e commentarii dei pontefici nel TEUFFELS, Geschichte der röm. Literatur, Leipzig, 1882, SS 70-76, 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. 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 : 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  Liv., III, 9. Cfr. MuirŅEAD, op. cit., 87 e 88.  V. Ferrini, Storia delle fonti del diritto romano, 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. 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. 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 . 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, 142. 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, 163 a 167, come pure nel Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, I, 7 e note relative.  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. 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. 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  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.  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.  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. 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  . 322. Questi varii elementi di origine diversa, che insieme ad alcune disposizioni particolari imitate dalle legislazioni greche   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, 182 e segg., e sopratutto a 184. Si ritornerà poi sull'argomento nel libro seg., cap. IV,  3, trattando della mancipatio cum fiducia.  V. cap. precedente, relativo all'influenza della costituzione serviana sulla for mazione del ius quiritium.  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, 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, 179 a 194. 1.  C., 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. 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 . 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.  KUNTZE, Ius extraordinarium der römischen Kaiserzeit. Leipzig, 1886.  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.  V. in proposito il Voigt, Die XII Tafeln, II, 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. dipendentidal capo di famiglia, come lo dimostra l'espressione conservataci da Gellio, secondo cui la mater familias è in manu mancipioque mariti. 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.  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, 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. 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.  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. 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.  Il naturale processo, in base a cui venne formandosi un diritto fra le varie genti, fu spiegato più sopra ai nn. 94 e seg., 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, 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,  Il carattere eminentemente religioso del diritto primitivo delle genti patrizie fu dimostrato più sopra, lib. I, cap. V, 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, 329.412 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. 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 ; 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  V., quanto alla condizione della plebe, il lib. I, cap. IX, 180 a 196, e quanto al ius nexi mancipiique, spettante alla medesima, il nº 160, 198 e 199, come pure il nº 287, 351 e 352.  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, 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 .  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. 332. In questa diversità di condizioni egli è evidente, che il  Quanto al concetto dell'heredium, come forma della proprietà famigliare nel periodo gentilizio, vedi il nº 56, 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) , 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  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. 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.  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.  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.  C., 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 . 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, 51, gli autori ivi citati, e gli argomenti che egli adduce contro questa opinione, quale ebbe ad essere fino ad ora formulata.  Cfr. BONFANTE, Res mancipi e nec mancipi, Roma 1888, 90. 9 419 talvolta i concetti dimancipium e quelli di usus fructus , 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. 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  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., 92, nota 2, e 96, nº 2, e gli altri passi ivi citati.  Secondo la ricostruzione del Voigt, op. cit., I, 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. 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 . 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.  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.  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.  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  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. 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  . 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. 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  Quanto all'etimologia di questi vocaboli vedi il $ prec., nº 335.  V. Festo, vº duicensus; Bruns, Fontes, 337.  V. quanto al concetto di caput, Herzog, Gesch. und Syst., I, 997; il KRÜGER, Geschichte der capitis diminutio, Breslau, 1887, $ 5 , 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 . 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  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  Gaio, Comm., I, 160-64. Secondo il Krüger, op. cit., 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, 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.  È nota in proposito la finzione della legge Cornelia de iure postliminii. Cfr. Voigt, XII Tafeln, I, 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. 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 .  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.  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, 25 e dal Juering, Ésprit de droit romain, 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. 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 . 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  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, 234. 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. 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  Il Bruns, Geschichte und Quellen des röm. Rechts (in HOLTZEND., Encyclop., I, 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, 8. 428 che ne dipendono viene ad essere designata col vocabolo di manus. 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  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, 100, nota 1; Longo, La mancipatio, Firenze, 1887, 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.  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. 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. 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 . Anche nel mancipium, come negli altri  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, 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, 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, 214 ), o quel complesso di beni, che doveva essere consegnato nel censo. Quanto alle altre significazioni dimancipium, è da vedersi il BONFANTE, op. cit., 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).  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, 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. 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 . 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  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.  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. 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  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., 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. 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  Già si accenno a questa correlazione, senza tuttavia cercare di spiegarla, al nº 56, 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. 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  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. 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. 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  Gajo, I, 120; II, 14-17; Ulp., Fragm., XIX, 1. Anche questo concetto del fundus instructus sopravvive a lungo presso i Ro mani, come appare dal Fustel De Coulanges, op. cit., 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. 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  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., 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, 38 a 68, al BONFANTE, 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. 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  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. 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 . 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. 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  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.  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. 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. 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 ).  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.  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., 111, non potendosi supporre un er rore di questo genere sopra formole, che vivevano nelle consuetudini ed erano ela. borate dagli stessi giureconsulti.  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., 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. 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; 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  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.  Puchta, Inst.,  238. Cfr. SQUITTI, op. cit., 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.  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., 73 e seg., e BONFANTE, op. cit., 115146 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 . 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  Ortolan, Histoire de la législation romaine, Paris, 1880, p. 606. MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., 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. 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  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 ; 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  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. 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 )  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 ). C., 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 . 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 . Che anzi ciascuno dei diritti inchiusi nella proprietà  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.  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 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. 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) ; 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 .  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.  L. 1,  1, Dig. proprietà, ma una specie di possesso a titolo di precario, che non aveva ancora carattere giuridico. 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 ; 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.  Vedi, quanto alle primitive possessioni della plebe nel territorio romano, il nº 154, 190.  V. in proposito Savigny, Dela possession, Trad. Staedtler, sulla 74 ed. tedesca, Bruxelles 1879,  5º, 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). 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 ). 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. Si comprende parimenti, che sebbene ogni dominio abbia dovuto  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.  Cfr. Savigny, V. i passi in proposito citati dal Savigny, op. cit.,  5, 21 e segg., nelle note. Sono poi noti i passi di Ulp., 12,  1, Dig.nihil commune habet proprietas cum possessione, ed altri analoghi, L. 1, $ 2, Dig. Cfr. JHERING, Fondement des interdits possessoires, Trad. Maulenaere, Paris 1882, 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. 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 .  Tale sarebbe l'opinione del Niebaur, Histoire romaine, III, 191 e segg.; e del Savigny, op. cit.,  12 a, 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.  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. 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.: 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  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, 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., 529 e segg., ove trovasi citata in nota la bi bliografia più recente sull'argomento. 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 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, 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., 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. 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, 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., 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. 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. 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,  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. 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. 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. 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  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, 124, nota 1.  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, 244 e. 274, coi passi ivi citati, ed il MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd., 108 e 109. (3 ) V. sopra lib. I, cap. VI, SS 2 e 3, 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. 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 . 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  Fra gli autori, che dànno questa larga significazione così al connubium, che al commercium, accennerò il LANGE, Histoire intérieure de Rome, 13, in nota, il quale pur riconosce, che questi concetti dovettero prima aver origine nei rapporti fra le varie genti.  Quanto alle origini dell'actio nel periodo gentilizio e ai caratteri della mede sima, vedi sopra lib. I, cap. VI,  3, 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. 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 ; 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  Tralascio qui ogni maggior spiegazione intorno alle origini del formalismo romano, perchè ebbi già ad occuparmene al n ° 94, 117. e sopratutto nella nota 1a a 118, ove si presero in esame le opinioni, in proposito emesse, dal Sumner-Maine e dal Jhering.  CICERONE (vedasi)., De Orat., 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. 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 ; 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  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.  Ulp., L. 41, Dig. C., 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 . 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  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. 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 : 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. 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.  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, 105.  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, 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'argomento. Il ius commercii nel diritto quiritario. 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  . E questa la parte, in cui  uti  Mentre nella ricostruzione del Dirksen, seguita dal Bruns, Fontes, 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. 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 . 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 . Parmi invece, che le poche vestigia, che a noi pervennero dall'antico diritto, conducano a ritenere, che la forma  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, 240. Quanto agli altri significati del vocabolo di lex, nel primitivo diritto ro mano, vedi sopra nº 228, 278.  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, 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, 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.  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 . 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., 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., 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, 386). Quest'ultima definizione sarebbe pur confermata da Festo, vº Nexum:  Nexum aes apud antiquos dicebatur pecunia, quae per nexum obligatur  (Bruns, Fontes, 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, 197, nota 7, e II, 482.  La successione legittima non prende le mosse dal commercium, ma dal con nubium, come sarà dimostrato nel seguente cap. V, $ 5. -  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. . 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. 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 . 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  V. ZELLER, La philosophie des Grecs, trad. Boutroux, I, Paris, 1877, p. 486 e sopratutto la nota 8, 401.  Cfr.  C., La vita del diritto, 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. 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. 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. Il medesimo poi, per quanto si può inferire dalle applicazioni  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, 82.  Cod. civ. it.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, 74. 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. 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  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. 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  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, 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. 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. 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 , 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  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.  Tale sembra, ad esempio, essere l'opinione del Voigt, XII Tafeln; del MUIRHEAD, Op. cit., (3 ) GAJO, Comm., II, 102; ULP., Fragm., XX, 2. 58. 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. 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  V. in proposito i passi di antichi giureconsulti ed autori citati a p. 411, nota - 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 . 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  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., 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.,  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. 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. 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:  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, 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, 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.  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., 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 . 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 et 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.  La nuncupatio del nexum secondo il Voigt, XII Tafeln, 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. C., 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. 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  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. 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 . 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  HÖLDER, Istituz., trad. Caporali, 225. Cfr. eziandio l' Esmein, L'intrasmissibilité première des créances et des dettes, nella  Nouvelle Revue historique , , 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. 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  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. 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 . Anche la stipulatio divenne  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.  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 . 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, 455-470, a cui si associa il MUIRHEAD, op. cit., 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, 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.  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, 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. 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 . 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  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. Quanto all'acceptilatio vedi SCHUPFER, nella  Enciclopedia giuridica italiana , vol. I, 175 a 180, vº acceptilatio.  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 . 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. Tanto la nexi datio,  Paolo, Leg. 3, Dig. (44, 7).  Anche sulla mancipatio abbiamo una ricchissima letteratura. Tra i recenti mi limiterò a ricordare il Leist, Mancipatio und Eigenthums Tradition, Iena; il MuirHead, Hist. Introd., sect. 30, 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. 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. 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, 90 e 91.   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, 471, nota 1.  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 . 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.  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, 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., 134, nota 12.  Cfr., quanto alle origini della mancipatio, il MUIRHEAD, op. cit., 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  - 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. 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 441, nota 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, 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. 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  GA10, I, 120, Ulp., Fragm., XIX, 3. Vedi tuttavia ciò che in proposito si disse a 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. 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. 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  Si può veder raccolta nel Voigt, op. cit., II, $ 85, 146 a 166, una varietà grandissima di queste clausole o leges mancipii, raccolte da passi di antichi autori. Nel Bruns parimenti, Fontes, 251 a 256, sono riportati parecchi moduli di mancipationes, che pervennero fino a noi.  Quanto alla mancipatio cum fiducia è a vedersi il Voigt, $ 86, 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, 251.  Le ragioni, per cui le origini della fiducia devono cercarsi nelle costumanze della plebe, furono già esposte al n ° 149, 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, 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. 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 . 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. 386. Fu questo il magistero, mediante cui la mancipatio fu dal diritto civile di Roma adattata alle varie contingenze di fatto; ma  Cfr. il MUIRHEAD, op. cit., 140e il Voigt, op. cit., II, 172.  È notevole in proposito il passo di ISIDORO, Orig., 5, 22, 23, 24, riportato dal Bruns, Fontes, 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 .  Quanto alle svariate applicazioni della fiducia V. Ascoli, op. cit., 3497 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. ; 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  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.  In iure cedit dominus; vindicat is, cui ceditur; addicit Praetor . C., 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.  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, 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, 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, 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. 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. 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.  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 .  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 . 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  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., 48, e l'Es sin, Histoire de l' usucapion nei  Mélanges d'histoire du droit , Paris, 1886, 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. 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) , 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. 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. 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.  Questo carattere dell'usucapio primitiva è già accennato dall'Esmein, e può inferirsi dalla definizione di Ulpiano, Fragm. 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, 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, 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.  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.  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, 745. 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  . 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 . 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 . 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,  Gaio, Comm., II, 40.  Gaio, II, 88 e UlP., Fragm., XIX, 20.  Id., II, 65. Di qui infatti Gaio prende occasione di discorrere deimodi natu rali di acquisto.  Quanto all'actio in rem pubbliciana è da vedersi APPLETON, De l'action pub blicienne nella  Nouvelle Revue historique 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. 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  ; 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  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  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. 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 . 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;  Ho già toccato dell'attinenza strettissima, che intercede fra l'adrogatio ed il testamentum nel periodo gentilizio al nº 63-65, 77. Cfr. in proposito il SUMNER -MAINE, Ancien droit, 184 e il CoQ, Recherches sur le testament per aes et libram nella  Nouvelle Revue historique. 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, 96 e segg.; e il Cocotti, La famiglia nel diritto attico. Torino.  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.: testamenti factio iuris publici est. Cfr. quanto ho scritto a n ° 221, 268506 - 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 . 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 . 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  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, 184Cfr. MUIRHEAD, Histor. Introd.  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  ; 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. 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  GAIO, II, 101.  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. 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. 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  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 e sopratutto Cuq, 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  . 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 .  Trovo alquanto singolare la interpretazione che il Cuq, art. cit., 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), 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.  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 . 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 (vedasi), 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 . Così pure, mentre nel testamento primitivo si richiedeva  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.  CICERONE (vedasi)., De Orat.. 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. 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  . 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 .  CICERONE (vedasi), De leg., II, 19, 47. In proposito Cuq pure osserva, che la mancipatio familiae, e quindi anche il testamento per aes et libram più non aveva carattere religioso, 553, nota 2.  È noto come il SUMNER Maine, Ancien droit, 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. 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 . 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  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., 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. 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 .  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, 61–160.  Justin., Instit., II, 10, $ S 3 e 10. G.  C., 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: 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. 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 .  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.  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. 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 . Di fronte ad una opposizione di questa natura fra la famiglia quale appare nel diritto, e quale si presenta nel fatto, non è certo  Ho già accennato a questo contrasto, fra la configurazione giuridica della fa miglia e la realtà dei fatti, al nº 94, 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 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, 241 a 256; il MUIRHEAD, Histor, introd., 24 a 34; il Brixi, Matrimonio e di vorzio, Bologna, 1886, parte 1, passim, e specialmente ai SS 21 e 22, 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 CENERI, Lezioni su temi del ius familiae, Bologna.; 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.  Quanto all'organizzazione domestica delle genti patrizie; quanto a quella della plebe, lo stesso lib. I, cap. 9, pagina 188. - 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 . 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  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, 6 e segg., a proposito della domus fami liaque, considerata come un'unità organica di persone e di cose ad un tempo.  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 . 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. 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  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, è dimostrato, e in questo stesso libro, cap. 1 ° e 2°,  1º. 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.  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. Quindi è, che anche la famiglia ex iure  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. – 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 . 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  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. 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. 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  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. 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., 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, 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, 71, e il Brini, Op. cit., 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. 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. 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  Dion., II, 25 e 27. V. sopra lib. II, nº 268, 329 Cid sarebbe attestato da PLUTARCO, nella Vita di Romolo, 22, in un passo, che è riportato dal Bruns, Fontes, 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.  È a consultarsi in proposito il dotto lavoro del DELVECCHIO, Le seconde noeze del coniuge superstite, Firenze 1885, 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 ). 408. Colla legislazione decemvirale non sembra essersi andato più oltre nella elaborazione di un diritto comune ai due ordini; poiché  In base all'attestazione di Gaio, 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, 708, assegnata al n° 1', tav. IV, e ricostrutta nei seguenti termini:  si qua nollet in manu mariti convenire, quotannis trinoctio usum interficito .  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. 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 .  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, 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, 187, l'usus sarebbe più antico della coemptio: mentre invece quest'ultima, secondo il Karlowa, Formen der römischen Ehe und manus, 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.  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, 50. 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). 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,l'appendice sulla coemptio in fine al volume, nota B, 441. 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); da Isidoro, Orig., $ 24, 26 (Bruns, 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, 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., 51. 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. 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 . 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  Gaio. Nel passo già citato di Boezio, in cui egli parla delle varie forme di matrimonio, fondandosi sull'autorità di Ulpiano (Bruns), si dice espressamente che  confarreatio solis pontificibus conveniebat . Cfr. Esmein, Op. cit., 7, nota 1.  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. 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 . 410. Intanto il carattere e l'origine diversa dei varii modi per contrarre il matrimonio cum manu, pud anche spiegare le sorti  GAIO.  GAIO. 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. 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., 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. 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  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 ).  Gaio, I, 111.  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, 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 . 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, BERNHöft, 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. 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; La pratica del divorzio viene ad essere più facile, poichè, più non essendovi l'acquisto della manus, più non si dovette richie  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; 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. 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. Non fu quindi il matrimonio sine manu, che O per  Sonovi autori, che vorrebbero rannodare l'origine dell'istituto della dote al matrimonio sine manu, V. fra gli altri PADELLETT, e Cogliolo, Saggi di evoluzione, 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. Voigt, XII Tafeln, II, 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, 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.  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. 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. Fu poi nell'elaborazione ulteriore, che in questo  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  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,  acquistò una certa indipendenza dal proprio marito, sopratutto sotto l'aspetto economico. 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. 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  V. in proposito il precedente $ nella parte relativa al conflitto del matrimonio cum manu e di quello sine manu, nn. . Voigt 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. 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 . 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  Gaio. 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.  Vedi quanto all'emancipatio, in quanto costituisce una capitis diminutio, ciò che si disse al nº 338, 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, 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 . 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. 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  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, nota 4; SERAFINI, Istituzioni di diritto romano. Sono poi degne di nota, quanto all'istituzione dei peculii, le osservazioni del SumnER MAINE, L'ancien droit, 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. 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  Questo effetto dell'adrogatio è efficacemente espresso da PAPIN., Leg. 11,  2, Dig.:  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, 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. 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 . 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. 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  Quanto all'ultimo stadio del diritto civile romano nello svolgimento dell'ado zione, vedi Justin., Instit. II, XI.  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, 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. 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.  Nota giustamente l'HÖLDER, Istituz., $ 42, 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. 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  . 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. 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  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, 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.  Gaio, 1, 26; Ulp., Fragm., I, 5. (3 ) Gaio 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. La successione e la tutela legittima nel primitivo ius quiritium. 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 . Molti autori combatterono il concetto di questa comproprietà fa migliare, dicendola in contraddizione colla unificazione potente della famiglia romana nella persona del proprio capo. 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,  GAIO.  Fra gli autori, che combattono questa comproprietà famigliare, mi limiterò a citare il PADELLETTI, Op. cit., 201, e il Cogliolo, Saggi di evoluzione nel di ritto privato, 108 e segg.; il quale, a 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, 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  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. 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  Ho cercato di dimostrare questi caratteri della proprietà famigliare nel periodo gentilizio.  essent, qui, vivo etiam patre, quodammodo domini existimantur. Itaque post mortem patris non hereditatem percipere videntur, sed magis liberam bonorum administrationem consequuntur. 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 : 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 . 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  PAOLO, Leg., Dig. V. nel CARPENTIER, una raccolta di testi che confermano questa comproprietà famigliare.  Tale sarebbe l'opinione del PADELLETTI, Op. cit., 201. (3 ) Queste due disposizioni delle XII Tavole, secondo il Voigt, Op. cit., I, 704, sarebbero la 2a e la 3a legge della Tav. IV. A questo proposito poi il Voigt, Op. cit., II, 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. 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  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. Ho già dimostrato più sopra, 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. C., Le origini del diritto di Roma. 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. 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 .  Gaio, 1 a 8; Ulp., Fragm., XXIV, 1 a 3.  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, 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. 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 . 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,  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.  Ulp., L. 195,  1, Dig. Nella ricostruzione del Voigt, questa legge sarebbe la 4a della Tavola IV. Vedi ciò che dice lo stesso Voigt, II, 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 : 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. 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  Ulp., Fragm. È da vedersi, quanto alla tutela legittima e ai suoi caratteri peculiari, il Pa DELLETTI, Op. cit., 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. 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  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 . 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  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, 449 a 474; il Padel LETTI, La istituzione di erede ex re certa ( Archivio giuridico). Anche l'ESMEIN, La manus, la paternité, ecc., 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. - 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. 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 . 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. Per verità  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.  Questo carattere speciale del testamento per aes et libram è attestato, ancorchè solo di passaggio, da Cic., De orat.; 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.  Paolo, Leg. 7, Dig. Secondo il PadELLETTI, Storia del dir. rom., 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. 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,  SUMNER MAINE, L'ancien droit, 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. 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 . 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.  ULP., Fragm., XI, 3; XXVII, 5; L. 130, Dig.  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., dig.);  quamdiu potest ex testamento adiri hereditas, ab intestato non defertur  (Ulp., L. 39, dig.). Le legis actiones e la storia primitiva della procedura civile romana. $  Le origini della procedura ex iure quiritium. 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. 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  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 ; KELLER, Il processo civile romano e le azioni, trad. Filomusi-Guelfi, Napoli 1872; BETHMANN-HOLLWEGG, Der röm. Civilprocess in seiner geschichtl. Entwichelung, Bonn, e sopratutto il primo, che tratta delle legis actiones; BEKKER, Die Aktionen d. röm. Privatrechts, 2 vol., e sopratutto il vol. I, 18-74; KAR LOWA, Der röm. Civilprocess zur Zeit d. Legisactionen, Berlin ; BUONAMICI, La storia della procedura civile romana, Pisa 1886, e sopratutto il 1°, da 15 a 86; JHERING, L'esprit du droit romain; MuiraEAD, Histor. Introd., 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. 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 . 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  Pomp., Leg. 2,  6, Dig.; Gaio, IV, 11.  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.  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. 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.  Ho già accennato altrove n ° 243, 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 .  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. 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., 19 e 20.  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. 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  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., Dig..  troversie, abbia potuto dare origine a certimodi di procedura, che col tempo dovettero acquistare una vera autorità consuetudinaria. 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. 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.  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.  V. in proposito lib. I, nº 104, 135, nota 14. Cfr. il SUMNER MAINE, Early history of institutions, Lect. IX; e lo Zocco- Rosa, Op. cit., 209(3 ) V., quanto alle prime origini della manus iniectio. Cfr. CAPUANO, Storia del diritto romano, Napoli 1878; Cugino, Trattato storico della procedura civile romana, 116; BuonamiCI. 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. 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) . 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  Tutti questi caratteri della legis actio sacramento si possono ricavare dalla descrizione di quest'azione fatta da Gaio, per quanto la medesima presenti molte lacune, sia quanto all' actio sacramento in personam, che quanto all'actio sacramento relativa agli immobili.  Gaio, Comm., C., 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. 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. 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. 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  CICERONE (vedasi), Pro Murena, 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.  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.   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 - direttamente la lite, corre anche il rischio di perdere la scom messa. 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 . 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. GAIO: CICERONE (vedasi)., 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.  La necessità della legis actio sacramento, per una causa da istituirsi davanti al centumvirale iudicium, è dimostrata dal fatto che, secondo Gaio, 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, 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.  La competenza del centumvirale iudicium, per le cause di carattere eminente.. 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. 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 . 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 CICERONE (vedasi)., De orat.  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; ORTOLAN, Expli cation historique des Institutes de Iustinien, Paris.  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.; 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, 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., -- CICERONE (vedasi), 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 .  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.  C., 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. 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 [ 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. 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., Dig.; Liv. 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 -- 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. 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. È 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 æs 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carli – filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Roma). Filosofo italiano. 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. 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, scrittori, 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, comunque, 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 pensosa, 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 corsa, 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 aggressivo 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 concludere poi con l'undicesimo: Noi canteremo le grandi folle agitate dal lavoro, dal piacere o dalla sommossa; canteremo le maree multicolori e polifoniche delle rivoluzioni nelle capitali moderne; canteremo il vibrante fervore 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 ciononostante...è dall'Italia, che noi lanciamo pel mondo  questo nostro manifesto di violenza travolgente e incendiaria, 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 fondo, non trascinare ancora gli osservatori della cultura, A  non invitarli almeno a prendere posizione, poco importa  se favorevole o contraria. Non si può rimanere indifferenti ancora negli Anni Ottanta, non sentirlo tutt'ora presente nei suoi contenuti prospettici e attuali. Ecco  perché tutti lo hanno ripreso, riconsiderato o riabilitato 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 vedere 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 decadentismo o di romanticismo letterario, di surrealismo con evidente errore di collocazione, di nietschianesimo natural  mente, o di bergsonismo ecc. ecc. Ma non sta a noi questo 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 invece 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 portata 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 presente, 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 espressione rivoluzionaria di un paese giovane e nuovo mosso dalla felice conclusione dei fermenti unitari, i quali è ovviocomportano sempre semi di sconvolgimento 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 comprensibile e meno attuale alla nostra capacità d'intendimento storico. Ma a ben osservare possiamo ancora  intravvederlo, per intendere poi anche meglio il futurismo  artistico e letterario, che del tutto estraneo a quello politico proprio non è.   La cultura è un fatto del presente, ma anche dell’avvenire. Come tale è o dovrebbe essere giovane, perché  vissuta, voluta, creduta e quindi guardata in prospettiva nella visione dell’oltre, nell'ottica di uno sguardo lontano. 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'indicazione, una proposta.   Erano i tempi del progresso, dello sviluppo della scienza 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. Futurismo e passatismo    Esiste ancora oggi il passatismo , quello di marinettiana memoria. E se è pet questo c'è ancora il futurismo. Proprio per tale suo aspetto, dunque, il futurismo  è ancora attuale: la decadenza della cultura o il suo invecchiamento, e la sua inadeguatezza ai tempi; il prevalere per contro dell'accademia, della pedanteria, del vecchiume cattedratico sono sempre all'ordine del giorno. Il futurismo, quindi, non ha esaurito il suo compito, ovvero 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'’origine, ma il futurismo settanta anni fa aveva già conosciuto 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 inattuale? 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 letterale, per farne atto d'accusa al futurismo e alla sua anticultura. 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 esclusivamente cultura da museo.   Sulla spinta di questo stimolo ideologico , era fatale  che il movimento trovasse più facili accoglienze 0 accostamenti 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 nazionalisti (D'Annunzio) ed ai socialisti di Corridoni e di Mussolini. La ineluttabilità della storia accosta spesso e volentieri 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 futurista . Partì Martinetti e partì Boccioni, partirono Funi  e Sitoni, partì Sant'Elia, che lasciò i suoi 23 anni in trincea sulle colline del Carso. Erano entrati tutti e cinque  compatti in quel glorioso battaglione ciclisti, che tanto 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 essere inteso come un epigono del Romanticismo. Fu invece di più e di meglio, visto in altra dimensione o in  altro significato. Perché fu avanguardia, anzi il primo veto e proprio movimento d’avanguardia culturale del nuovo secolo. E l'avvento del fascismo in senso politico, dimostra 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 Mussolini 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 fascismo 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 fermento del nuovo portò sulla scena uomini giovani accantonando | vecchioni dell'accademia libera!socialista.  Balla, Carrà, Soffici, Funi, Sironi, Prampolini si affermarono col vento futurista che stava soffiando. Ed ebbero spazio nelle mostre, almeno in un primo momento, apertura nei musei, apprezzamento all’estero, dove vennero  accolti, ammirati, imitati. Il futurismo ebbe una grande  forza vitale sua, autonoma e individuale. Senza per questo imporsi e schiacciare la concorrenza , anzi. I futuristi accettatono nuove esperienze ed accolsero scambi  con avanguardie straniere (come l'astrattismo), che vol.  lero mutuare in reciprocità l’influenze. Il fascismo fu l’avanguatdia collaterale politica del futurismo, che tuttavia quest'ultimo cronologicamente precedette e ideologicamente ,  almeno in parte, ispirò. La lotta al passatismo divenne così quasi simbolo del fascismo, che si fece portabandiera del rinnovamento e della nuova rivoluzione nazionale.   I professori , non avendo messaggi originali da contrapporre, rimasero in disparte. Marinetti divenne accademico d’Italia a fascismo avanzato e, forse, suo malgrado. Tuttavia usò l'Accademia per promuovere ed appoggiare i suoi futuristi, per dar loro spazio nelle diverse manifestazioni d’arte e di cultura. Il filosofo Croce,  professore ad honorem , era stato proposto alla presidenza dell’Accademia, ed era stato proposto da parte fascista, quando ancora da Napoli applaudiva a Mussolini:  ebbe invece più consensi la presidenza Marconi, lo scienziato, e Croce si ritirò nell’antifascismo, forse mi litante,  della sua incensurata e liberissima Critica. Croce fu passatista , 0 tortò ad essere tale dopo una parentesi {od  un tentativo di rivolgimento innovativo), che non lo sottrasse tuttavia dalle carte della sua più o meno immobile 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 rivolge 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 Rossetti, della città giuliana, dove così sottolinea: In politica,  stamo tanto lontani da] socialismo internazionalista e antipatriottico ignobile esaltazione dei diritti del ventre 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 predicato per la salvezza nazionale. Dopo la nascita del futurismo politico, viene fondato il Partito Nazionalista Italiano, antidemocratico ed antiborghese. Nel 1913 nasce Lacerba, cui diedero vita a Firenze Soffici e Papini, la rivista che in pratica 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 pasizioni 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'indica al margine inferiore del foglio, il programma clerico-moderato-liberale e il programma democratico-repubblicana-socialista . Cosa che poi in realtà non avvenne.    Il 12 dicembre dello stesso anno Marinetti pronunciava un discorso al Teatro Verdi di Firenze, dove saostiene la volontà di appoggiare l'impresa libica ed il suo  felice compimento. Il discorso viene immediatamente ripreso e pubblicato da Lacerba, nel numero del 15 dicembre (n. 24, anno I): Si convincano i socialisti che noi  rappresentanti della nuova gioventù artistica italiana combatteremo con tutti i mezzi e senza tregua i loto vigliacchissimi tentativi... iniziava il discorso; e così concludeva, a rafforzamento delle sue inconciliabili posizioni:  Noi siamo dei nazionalisti futuristi e perciò ferocemente avversi all’altro grande pericolo imminente: il clericalismo con tutte le sue propaggini di moralismo reazionasio, di repressione poliziesca, di professoralismo archeologico e di quetismo rammollito o affatismo di partito .  Ormai la collocazione del movimento è quanto mai chiara e inequivocabile.    4. Futuristi e fiorentini. Che i futuristi fossero milanesi è problema tutto  da vedere, anche se è vero che Marinetti abitava a Milano 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 futurismo milanese (con Marinetti e Boccioni in simbiosi); esiste un primo futurismo fiorentino lacerbiano, che  assimila, elabora in modo nuovo, creativo, le istanze milanesi; esiste un secondo futurismo fiorentino (la pattuglia azzurra ; i giovani de L'Italia futurista) psicologico,  occultista, predadaista e presurrealista. E potremmo continuate nelle differenziazioni ”.   Ma non è tanto per questo tipo di differenziazioni che  ci interessa il futurismo fiorentino, quanto per la dimensione 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 muovevano (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 salottiera; legata comunque ad una cultura d’indagine e di    ! Tuciano De Maria, Palazzeschi e l'avanguardia, Mondadori,  Milano, 1968, 31. riesumazione di un passato ricco e glorioso, ma ormai ripetitivo e sclerotizzato. Firenze tuttavia era anche la terra  feconda del primo Novecento, delle nuove riviste, dei  tentativi di rivisitazione di una cultura pur sempre nazionale, e di lancio dell'avanguardia sullo scorcio del nuovo secolo, che andava creato e costituito, Il Leonardo apre  le sue tirature il 4 gennaio 1903, per chiuderle poi nell'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 tentativi di collegamento delle forze intellettuali e di fondazione di un minimo denominatore comune, letterario e  politica {idealismo e sindacalismo socialistico di tipo soreliano). Papini continuò la collaborazione . Ma vi furono anche, sulle pagine de La Voce, Amendola e Sal  vemini, Soffici e De Robertis, oltre che il futuro fondatore de Il Popolo d’Italia e del Fascismo. La Voce chiudeva però i battenti nel 1912 senza eccessiva eco politica immediata. Papini non aveva condiviso 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 anche idealistico . Si unì a Soffici di cui condivideva gli  atteggiamenti, ed insieme fondarono Lacerba (il 1° gennaio 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, Papini forse ancora seguiva le prospettive d’arte e di cultura del Leonardo. Anche se in una dimensione attiva  che già i leonardiani avevano inteso fondare nell’utilizzazione del pragmatismo come strumento di potenza . (In quegli anni tutti vollero sapere che cosa fosse  il pragmatismo ).  Lacerba riprende l’impostazione di  battaglia, tipica di Papini, e ritotna all’orientamento specifico dell’arte. Vedi anche Giovanni Papini, Pragmatismo, Firenze, Vallecchi. In questo contesto è evidente che non poteva mancare 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 Pratella. 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 pensare. Segue un passo di Boccioni sul fondamento plastico  della scultura e pittura futurista. Proprio Boccioni che aveva 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'Alba, 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 soddisfacente . E lo stesso Papini il 1° dicembre dello stesso anno uscirà poi con un lungo articolo intitolato Perché  son futurista. Sarà l’atto di accettazione definitiva del futurismo, od il suo accoglimento più completo, e globale. Su La Voce Soffici pubblica la sua Ricetta 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 ardente. 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 parte dei fuiuristi,   Non molti giorni dopo, il 12 dicembre (lo abbiamo già visto), si tenne al Teatro Verdi a Firenze  una grande serata futurista , di cui riporta il resoconto sintetico il numero 24 della rivista (del 15 dicembre 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 collaborazione. Autore ne è ancora una volta Giovanni Papini,  che chiuderà definitivamente il colloquio sull'ultimo  numero dell’anno insieme a Soffici, cofirmatario de Il Futurismo e Lacerba. È l'atto di chiusura di un periodo : quello, appunto, del futurismo lacerbiano. Risponderà 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 tentativi interventisti di rivivificazione (1915) e le sue discriminazioni 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 Palazzeschi, Papini, Soffici, Futurismo e Marmnettismo, in  Lacerba, anno III, n. 7, 14 febbraio 1915, 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. Contemporaneamente, 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 avrebbe 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. È 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 Mussolini. L’amarezza gli è data probabilmente dall’espulsione  dal Partito socialista proprio per la posizione da lui assunta a favore dell'intervento. La conoscenza da parte di  Mussolini, di Boccioni e del movimento d’arte d’avanguardia 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 manifestazioni 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. È il primo fermo politico di Marinetti. Siamo quasi alla vigilia della guerra. Si mette in piedi la terza grande  dimostrazione interventista davanti alla Camera dei Deputati. È presente anche Mussolini e si verifica uno dei  maggiori momenti d’incontro tra futuristi e Mussolini  sul terreno dell’intervento. Balla, Corra, Settimelli, Marinetti e lo stesso Mussolini vengono attestati. Tutti gli  sforzi ormai, tutte le volontà e tutte le energie sono concentrate verso un'unica e suprema meta: quella della guerra. A Messina esce il nuovo periodico La Balze, e Marinetti pubblica il manifesto Guerra sole igiene del mondo, mentre il poeta futurista Auro d'Alba lancia a Milano 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, preparato 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: Aspettando la nostra grande guerra tanto invocata noi Futuristi alterniamo la nostra violentissima azione artistica sulla sensibilità 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 mediante il teatro . E in effetti, a partire dal gennaio del '15,  i futuristi avevano iniziato una serie di Tournées di teatro futurista interventista per sostenere la necessità dell’intervento con un mezzo di comunicazione ben più popolare e circolante della letteratura. Anche la serata futurista , per esempio, è un al  tro canale o strumento di incoraggiamento dell'intervento. Si tratta di una sorta di riunione o ritrovo di artisti futuristi, uno dei quali sollecita gli intervenuti (pubblico) danda uno spunto, e proponendo un tema, o aggredendo qualche aspetto dell'arte del passato, da cui nasce  lo stimolo alla creazione e alla lotta del nuovo 0 del futuro, e anche lo stimolo alla guerra che lo conduce sino alle  ultime conseguenze. Ma sentiamo Marinetti come la definisce quando si rivolge agli studenti in un altro manifesto,  di poco precedente a quello teatrale , intitolato Im quest'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 fenomeno 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 partiva 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 futurista nello stesso anno, e Piatti e Fortunato Depero. Alla fine dello stesso anno Boccioni, Russolo, Sant’Elia, 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, denigratore 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 Folgore il foglio d'avanguardia Awvenscoperta. Nel ’17 nasce  il periodico Deda, che tanto dovrà nell’ispirazione al nostro futurismo. I) 18 è ormai l'anno della vittoria. Depero realizza i suoi nuovi balli plastici . Bruno Corra  pubblica a Milano con i tipi dello Studio Editoriale Lombardo Per l'arte della nuova Italia. Siamo infatti nell’Italia 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 tivoluzionari, i socialisti e i repubblicani di sinistra, che avrebbero poi dato vita alla formazione dei Fasci di Combattimento, quelli cui futuristi ed arditi avrebbero infuso la  prima linfa vitale. Si possono considerare punti essenziali  del nuovo programma l'estensione del suffragio universale, comprendente anche le donne, la socializzazione della  terra con assegnazione ai reduci, la tassazione progressiva, 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 periodico Roma futurista, fondato a Roma da Marinetti, Mario  Carli ed Emilio Settimelli, che vedeva la luce il 20 settembre 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 portava nel suo primo numero tre scritti importantissimi dei  suoi tre direttori: Mario Carli, Marinetti, Settimelli. Scriveva Settimelli: “Il Futurismo che fino ad oggi esplicò  un programma specialmente artistico, si propone una integrale azione politica per collaborare a risolvere gli urgenti problemi nazionali. Coloro che ci accusarono di squilibrio dovranno ricredersi. I] preconcetto di serietà pedantesca e quietista imposto alla vecchia Italia dai professori rammolliti, dai preti anti-italiani e dagli affaristi giolittiani, 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 incapaci. La guerra ha rivelato le vere forze italiane. Sono forze giovani, violente, antitradizionali e ultra-italiane” .   Il primo numero di Roma futurista (decadario, poi  settimanale) pubblicava il programma del giornale medesimo ed anche il manifesto di quel Partito Politico Futurista che si doveva ancora fondare. Partito che, nell’intendimento 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 contribuito 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 orxanizzeremo 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 futurista 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 partito: 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 minimo di deputati avvocati {sempre opportunisti) e un minimo di deputati professori (sempre retrogradi)... Abolizione 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 nell'ambito del nuovo regime fascista) e Massimo Bontempelli, secondo il quale il programma fondamentale del futurismo politico sarebbe stato quello di sostituire la giovinezza 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 organizzato 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 cresciuti i muovi Fasci di combattimento , voluti e promossi 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 (Marinetti, Buzzi, Somenzi e Bontempelli), Firenze (Settimelli, Rosai, Marasco), Perugia (Dottori), Genova (Depero),  Torino (Azari), e poi ancora Bologna, Palermo, Napoli,  Fiume, Messina, Ferrara, Piacenza, Venezia, Taranto, Modena, 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 Mussolini 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’avvicendamento e l'annessione degli arditi al partito politico, di  cui sul primo numero del giornale si pubblicava il rivoluzionario 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 dichiarare: Sostituiremo il Parlamento con le tappresentanze dei sindacati agricolo-industriali ed operai. La rappresentenza sindacale sarà la base dello “Stato tecnico” futurista . Ma allora di quale rappresentanza sindacale si ttatrerà 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 interrogatsi: 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. dovranno esser risolte    II! 'EUE vu SS it: _gLZffkfkzstllEaAaz:F:=+”sxx:®(  '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’unificazione (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 raccogliere circa diecimila iscritti, la maggior parte, forse, degli  ex reparti militarizzati . Futurismo e arditismo  Ormai anche gli arditi, nonostante lo scioglimento della 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 futuristi non potevano a questo punto non vedere negli arditi  dei nuovi futuristi politici, così come Mussolini non poteva non vedere in loro dei potenziali simpatizzanti e alleati. La pronta adesione di molti di essi ai Fasci di combattimento 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. Mussolini aveva, per così dire, abiuraro il suo vecchio socialismo e aveva bisogno di una forza nuova, una forza ideale 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 mancata, o non sarebbe stata, senza di esso, tanto irruente. Il futuro duce partecipava a Milano  ad una serata futurista contro Bissolati, alla Scala, contribuendo in parte al suo siluramento . C'era anche  Marinetti e, forse, non fu un caso, e si trattò di un incontro importante.    II 23 marzo dello stesso anno in una riunione milanese  a Piazza San Sepolcro, presieduta da Ferruccio Vecchi, Marinetti tenne un discorso alla presenza di Dessy e di altri  arditi e futuristi, per la fondazione dei Fasci di combattimento, decisa da Mussolini. Questi propose come programma ai nuovi raggruppamenti l'abolizione del Senato,  il suffragio universale, il sindacalismo nazionale, riconascendo 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, antimassimalista ed antitotalitaria, era in fondo quanto mai futurista . 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 emisero 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 abbiamo orrore di versare sangue italiano. La nostra controdimostrazione si formò, spontanea, per invincibile volontà popolare. Fummo costretti a reagire contro la provocazione premeditata degli imboscati. Col nostro intervento intendiamo di affermare il diritto assoluto dei quattro milioni di combattenti vittoriosi, che soli devono dirigere e dirigeranno ad ogni costo la nuova Italia . La  controdimostrazione si riferisce ad una manifestazione  socialista all'Arena, cui seguì la battaglia di Via Mercanti , dove furono chiari, secondo i reduci, alcuni momenti di provocazione nei confronti del combattentismo  {da qui, l'assalto all’Avanti!).   Sempre nell'aprile del *19 esce a Milano per i tipi dell’Editore Facchi un volume politico di Marinetti, forse il  suo più importante: si tratta di Democrazia futurista, che  porta come sottotitolo dinamismo politico . È una raccolta 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 aprile 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 individui superiori alla media umana per forza creatrice, innovatrice, improvvisatrice. Questa democrazia entrerà naturalmente in competizione con la maggioranza formata dalle 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, che con quella tradizionale, anche attuale, non ha niente  a che vedere. È una lotta di democtazie, o una democrazia 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 democrazia "come sentimento dei diritti concreti della massa sullo Stato e sulla Economia“... Noi intendiamo la democrazia italiana come massa di individui geniali, divenuta 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, analfabeti). La democtazia italiana è per noi un corpo umano  che bisogna liberare, scatenare, alleggerire per accelerarne la velocità e centuplicarne il rendimento... . Come  potrebbe essere più futurista e avanzata questa nuova concezione democratica progressiva ? Che così, giustamente, 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 delle 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 principio: è per l’idea di patria, è per il principio di progresso,  che noi crediamo realizzabile con mezzi e con metodi opposti a muelli dei rivoluzionari russi .   Ciò nonostante Gramsci e Lunaciarsky, al TI Congresso dell'Internazionale comunista, difendono i futuristi italiani e li considerano veri e propri rivoluzionari . E  Lenin medesimo dità a Giacinto Menotti Serrati, che, come direttore dell’Avanti!, si era recato a Mosca a respirare 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 futuristi 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 questo campo, come opera creativa, è probabile che la classe  operaia non riuscirà per molto tempo a far di più di quanto hanno fatto i futuristi!    L'11 luglio del '19 Marinetti otteneva un biglietto d'’invito alla Tribuna di Montecitorio. Andò con Ferruccio  Vecchi, gran capitano, ad aspettare un momento opportuno 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, protesto per la vostra politica e vi urlo: Abbasso Nitti! Morte  al Giolittismo! Dichiaro che non può sussistere il Ministero dei sabotatori della Vittoria, degli schiaffeggiatori degli 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 ancora 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’indomani 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 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 sovversivi 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 Mussoltni, parla a futuristi, arditi e fascisti sostenendo la necessità dello svaticanamento : Noi dobbiamo domandare. volere, imporre , dice fra l’altro il capo del futurismo, l’espulsione del papato, o meglio ancora, per usare un'espressione più precisa, lo “svaticanamento” .  Le elezioni generali vengono condotte a  Milano all'insegna del blocco fascista con lista autonoma di Mussolini, Marinetti (secondo), Toscanini, Podrecca e Bolzon. Comizi elettorali si tennero a Milano in Piazza 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, organizzano a Parisi una manifestazione di solidarietà a Matinetti: 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 precedenza. La postilla di Giovanni Papini non fa altro che  convalidare, sia pure con riserva, la sostanza del programma.   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 mondo 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 complessa, 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 socialisti 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 significativo: Partiti d'avanguardia: se tentassimo di collaborare? Laddove si considera partito d'avanguardia , ovviamente, anche quello socialista, che tanta parte ha esercitato nella storia d'Italia. Ho esaminato seriamente l'ipotesi , esordisce Carli, di una collaborazione fra noi {futuristi, arditi, fascisti, combattenti, ecc.) e i Partiti cosiddetti  d'avanguardia: socialisti ufficiali, riformisti, sindacalisti, repubblicani... 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 cadde 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 collaborazione 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 astrazione 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 contro il socialismo perché idea generatrice di vigliaccheria .   Ii 14 dicembre sempre del 1919, tuttavia, certo Mannarese, avversario, pubblica un articolo per espotre l’impossibile intesa fra le due avanguardie, o l'impossibilità di accordo in unione d’intenti e di lavoro. Il Mannarese sottolinea 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 sposa, 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 salumaio non ha nient'altro che questo sapote.   L'equazione socialismo-proletariato , sostenuta dal  Mannarese, è vacua e falsa, dice Bottai, e bisogna distinguere, 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, operai, lavoratori-proletari! ; e gli arditi non erano certo socialisti, 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 scompensi 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 della 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 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 maiuscolo: CONTRO IL SOCIALISMO NON VUOLE DIRE CONTRO IL PROLETARIATO.   La miopia del socialismo nella considerazione dei futuristi appare evidente e inequivocabile. E si parla del socialismo dei primi del secolo, quello storicamente più capace 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 successiva politica sindacale fascista (si veda la Carta del Lavoro 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 battaglia, come dice il titolo della pagina: Nell’applaudite oggi  D'Annunzio, liberatore di Fiume, penso che questo meraviglioso genio riassuntivo della nostra razza, uscito dalle  alcove del Pizcere... dopo aver esplorato le profondità del  la lussuria... ha logicamente... strappato Fiume all’imperialismo europeo e americano, ed ora deve, seguendo la linea  della sua fortuna inesauribile, logicamente, con genio sempre più rivoluzionario e futurista, liberare Roma dal Papato e dalla Monarchia, e creare la grande Repubblica Italiana . 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 modificazione del Patto di Roma in modo che si potesse favorire 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 fascista. Solo 10 membri su 19 del comitato centrale eletto a  Fitenze vengono riconfermati: tra essi Marinetti e Ferruccio Vecchi.    Mussolini sostiene un nuovo indirizzo: l'accordo fra  proletariato e borghesia produttiva, tipico di quel fascismo  provinciale che stava prendendo il sopravvento. Marinetti reagisce confermando la sua intransigenza antimonarchica ed antipontificia. I Fasci di Combattimento, come  riporta ancora il De Felice, avrebbero dovuto, secondo  Marinetti, iniziare una politica decisa in difesa delle rivendicazioni proletarie, appoggiando e scioperi e agitazioni che siano fondati o formulati su un principio di giustizia . Mussolini aveva cercato di replicare che i Fasci  hanno anzi aiutato gli scioperi che avevano un chiaro  contenuto economico , ma aveva sottolineato di non poter 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 futuristi 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’Associazione 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, insomma, 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 tutte le ideologie imponendo dovunque la nostra nuova concezione 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, meta 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 moda 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 denigrare 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 pubblicamente ed ardentemente il nuovo testo. Bottai, già fututista, interverrà ben presto (sul n. 35 dell’Ardito) con  una lettera aperta a F.T. Marinetti per mettere in risalto la sua posizione critica all’atteggiamento anarchichegpiante 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 sentire. E si chiudeva, ovviamente, almeno sul terreno storico della prassi politica, l'ideologia del fascismo-movimento, quello dell’intransigenza e del fervore mistico, del  libertarismo e dell'avanguardia, dell'anarchismo e dell’antiautoritarismo verso la monarchia ed il papato. Il possibilismo politico e il realismo tattico per la conquista  del potere subentrano e il fascismo-regime si muove ormai, 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 Futurismo. 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’arte 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 futurismo . Pirandello pubblica nello stesso anno I sei personaggi in cerca d'autore. Marinetti sostiene che sono  ispirati al futurismo e al suo spirito creatore. Il congresso 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 dirige in prima persona. A Berlino sarà poi tradotta in edizione tedesca (Der Futurismus), a cura di Ruggero Vasari. Bragaglia fonda a Roma il Teatro Sperimentale degli Indipendenti, primo teatro stabile italiano, da Ivi di  retto fino al ’36: metterà in scena duecento opere d'’avanguardia fra quelle di autori italiani e stranieri. A_ Monza  si crea l’Istituto Superiore delle Arti decorative, trasformato poi in Biennale e dal ’30 definitivamente in Triennale, con sede nel palazzo di Milano (al parco, arch. Muzio). Mussolini, dopo la marcia su Roma del 28 ottobre,  forma il governo con radicali e liberali, e istituisce il Gran  Consiglio del Fascismo. 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 letteraria. Le parole vanno all’aria quando vanno all'aria le  gerarchie politiche. Il Fascismo, se vuole veramente vincere la sua battaglia, deve ormai considerare come assotbito 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 intorno alla medesima galleria milanese, che affiancava la  nuova tendenza del regime in senso conservatote, già sancita dal 2° Congresso Fascista (Milano, maggio 1920).  L'animatrice del nuovo movimento Arte del Novecento era Margherita Sarfatti. Il gruppo fu accolto, neanche 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 Permanente 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, furono ammessi alla Biennale solo nel ’26, e fuori dal padiglione italiano additittura. All'inaugurazione della Biennale, Marinetti  si rivolge al Re, a Venezia in visita ufficiale, e gli denuncia gridando l’incapacità senile e antitaliana della  Direzione, che massacra i giovani artisti italiani . L’intervento di Marinetti suscita scandalo. Tuttavia nello stesso anno 1924 si verifica anche un cetto riavvicinamento 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, come già detto, s'intitola Futurismo e Fascismo, ed esce  a Foligno per i tipi dell'Editore Campitelli. Ancora nello stesso anno escono diverse altre significative testate, futuriste ma anche fasciste. Mino Maccari  fonda I! Selvaggio (organo del fascismo strapaesano) ed  Enzo Benedetto a Reggio Calabria pubblica il foglio futurista 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 Somenzi 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 amicizia 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 interventisti 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 Fascismo ed all'Italia Ia meravigliosa anima diciannovista,  disinteressata, ardita, antisocialista, anticlericale, antimo.  narchica. Concedi alla Monarchia soltanto la sua provvisotia 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 giunga 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 macchina, 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 recupero 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, pugni... . E subito dopo: Fra le tante definizioni io prediligo quella data dai teosofi: “I futuristi sono i mistici  dell’azione”. Infatti i futuristi hanno combattuto e combattono il passatismo. Il nuovo regime e la portata  storica di realizzazione di quello che si considera il patrimonio del futurismo è così giudicato: Vittorio Veneto 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 Marinetti, 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 movimento artistico e ideologico. Interviene nelle lotte politiche soltanto nelle ore di grave pericolo per la Nazione , E un'altra volta a migliore definizione della posizione concettuale o della sua immagine: Il Fascismo  nato dall'interventismo e dal Futurismo si nutrì di principî futuristi... Il Fascismo opera politicamente... Il Futurismo opera invece nei domini infiniti della pura fantasia, può dunque e deve osare osare osare sempre più  temerariamente. Avanguardia della sensibilità artistica italiana, 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 fascismo 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 evidente, perché non viene mai fatto cenno a questa seconda ipotesi: che cioè sia stato il futurismo ad attingere  al fascismo. Anche se affiora l’autocritica , l’interrogazione, il domandarsi sotterraneo della coscienza.   Il lettore domanderà: “Ci sono idee futuriste superate 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 feroce ma necessaria nel pantano letterario di sentimentalismo dannunziano sulle cui rive singhiozzavano i giovani malati di luna e di donne fatali. La condanna della decadenza di un romanticismo fiacco 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 giovani 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 esiste uno Stato fascista che tutela il diritto individuale.  Ma bisogna alimentare ancora lo spirito del cittadino eroico, amico del pericolo e capace di lotta, poiché occorretà  improvvisare domani gli indispensabili volontari della nuova 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 forze telluriche, il Futurismo, manometro della nostra penisola (caldaia bollente!), odia i macchinisti incapaci. Si  palesano tali i culturali d’Italia che verniciati di patriottismo parlano oggi d’Impero, con un'anima pacifista pronti ad imboscarsi al minimo pericolo. Essi ignorano che  Impero significa guerra. Votrebbeto conquistarlo con una  lezione sulla Roma Imperiale! . Ecco, ancora, la coscienza di cui parlavamo prima: quella della curiosità antiquaria di una cultura d’accatto non più in grado di tenere 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 speranza, 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 aggressiva 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:  Marinetti. Il futurismo ha dimostrato di voler procedere sulla  strada del nuovo: il fascismo lo ha accolto ed ha accondisceso, 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 aderente 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, quando avrebbe potuto sedersi sulle comode poltrone di un  otmai arrivato futurismo di destra . Ma il futurismo 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 futurista , ma era e doveva essere prima di tutto il capo  dello Stato e il duce del Fascismo . E il fascismo aveva preso e doveva tenete ormai una certa linea, molte  volte non gradita, o valida, per il futurismo, ed anzi proprio al contrario.   La gloria di Roma rievocata nel monumentalismo  classicheggiante, il novecentismo ricalcante vuoti modelli  di un fasullo rinnovamento filotradizionale, la riesumazione del mito della storia come copia di grandezza e novella 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. Marinetti era invece, e rimaneva, anche nel fascismo e nonostante il fascismo, futurista , come lui amava definirsi, e come lo rimanevano anche altri, non tutti però,  anzi forse troppo pochi. Marinetti, quindi, futurista, e futurista nonostante tutto, 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 meno 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  dell'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 ideologica e in colloquio popolare . Forse qui sta inoltre  la differenza fra i due movimenti: il futurismo avanguardia di rottura e il fascismo sistema di potere. Anche se  il primo l’aveva spinto e sorretto nella sua azione di conquista. Il fascismo è allora per un suo aspetto futurista,  e non invece il contrario. E' la realizzazione di quel piogramma 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 stato davvero e fino in fondo . Che fosse anche per questo che i futuristi non potevano essere completamente  fascisti? O non si potevano identificare completamente  nel regime? Almeno i futuristi autentici, quelli più idealisti .   Il futurismo era stato sempre e comunque antisocialista, in modo integrale, totale come si è visto. E lo era  stato dall’inizio antisocialista, per la sua posizione culturale, per il suo intendimento antimilitaristico ed antiegualitario, 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 antisocialisti. Il fascismo, nonostante tutto, era meno antisocialista. 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 episodico 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’amicizia e ad un'idea, comunque e nonostante tutto. Marinetti 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. Quando avrebbe benissimo potuto bruciarlo . E aveva anche sentito che il nuovo secolo richiedeva un cambiamento, che si doveva in qualche modo maturare.    Volle promuoverlo e accelerarlo (da futurista ?), intervenite 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 lottare fino all’ultimo per consegnare a Venezia un messaggio, quello vitale e ineliminabile verso il futuro . I suoi  discepoli lo accolsero come un testamento e qualcuno lo  trasmette ancora per testimonianza. Nonostante la trasmutazione dei tempi e le difficoltà del presente. Lo documenta ancora per la verità storica e per la risonanza dell'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’intenzione era evidente: quella di creare una specie di carta sindacale per la costituzione dei sindacati artistici  futuristi , atti alla difesa ed all'assistenza degli artisti  eventualmente bisognosi. Oggi quel poco che offre il sindacalismo dell’arte è dovuto per lo più al sindacalismo  futurista e, in parte, a quello fascista. Ma l'idea del mutuo soccorso e della solidarietà del lavoro era già presente nella mentalità futurista, orientata sempre verso  giustizia (in questo caso, giustizia dell’arte). Il proletariato 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’istituzione che li garantisse dalla loro precarietà, dalle loro difficoltà 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 ostacoli dei soliti misoneisti. Ad ogni modo questa lettera  può servirti di viatico. Ciao, con amicizia. Mussolini .   Si trattava di una vera € propria forma di assicurazione del denaro che doveva favorire gli artisti, o soddisfare 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 sovvenzione 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 costituirebbero valorizzazione fruttifera per l’artista medesimo, ecc., n.d.r.] Agevolazioni agli artisti [tramite  il riconoscimento legale dei diritti d’autore, la riduzione  del 75% della tariffa per i viaggi degli artisti e il trasporto 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 storici l'affermazione del fascismo e la sua lenta istituzionalizzazione in regime, si parla anche di modifica del futurismo 0 di suo adeguamento ad una nuova realtà sistematica e organizzativa, conseguita al periodo rivoluzionario; 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 Crispolti in un suo saggio, e lo asserisce in modo categorico e definitivo: In questo senso è politicamente inammissibile 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 demonizzazione 0 fascistizzazione in senso politico?   Avevamo già visto nel ’24 Gerardo Dottori provare le sue prime aeropitture. Nel frattempo i futuristi  continuano a scambiarsi esperienze ed a lavorare intensamente. È ad esporre spesso e volentieri, anzi velocemente e freneticamente, alla futurista . Nel 1926 vengono  invitati diversi futuristi italiani alla International Exhibition 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_Milano 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 neocostituito Gruppo 7 di architettura, composto da Terragni, Libera, Frette, Figini, Pollini, Rava e Larco. I futuristi partecipano alla 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, Milano 1974, 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 lanciano 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 espressione di letteratura politica del capo futurista. L’opera  ricalea in termini ancor più encomiastici e di supporto il già conciliante Futuriszzo e fascismo.  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. Rivoluzionario 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 partecipazione 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 difendere il fututismo e per lanciarlo meglio in Italia  ed all’estero. Terragni realizza un monumento a Como su un disegno di Sant'Elia (che era stato totalmente rielaborato 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 partecipano 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) Manifesto dell’Aeropoesia, che fa eco a quello dell'Aeropittura 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 nuova dimensione aerea dello spazio verso il futuro. Esce a Roma il nuovo quotidiano L’'Impeto. Nel 1932 la Galleria Pesaro allestisce una mostra  vera e proptia, ed esclusiva, di aeropittura . Fortunato  Depero ottiene che gli venga concessa una sala personale 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’Istituio Editoriale Italiano pubblica per la prima volta i Manifesti 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. Hitler sale al potere e sconfessa l’arte moderna (l'espressionismo, nella fattispecie). Vasari organizza con Marinetti una mostra futurista a Berlino nel tentativo di promuovere, e di far recepire le avanguardie al  nuovo regime. Nel settembre dello stesso anno il Congresso nazista di Norimberga condannerà al rogo l’arte  degenerata . Esce la rivista Diamo futurista, diretta da  Depero; il periodico di architettura Casebella è invece diretto da Pagano, mentre Bardi e Bontempelli pubblicano  Quadrante. Prampolini progetta una stazione per aeroporto 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’Aeroplastica, sempre sulla falsariga di quello dell’Aeropittura. Fillia e Prampolini pubblicano a Torino la nuova rivista Stile futurista, dalle cui colonne Prampolini attacca  Hitler per le posizioni naziste sull’arte espresse a Norimberga. I futuristi partecipano ancora alla XIX Biennale  di Venezia. Ad Amburgo Ruggero Vasari e Marinetti difendono l'avanguardia in occasione della mostra Aeropittura futurista italiana , organizzata appositamente in  polemica alle censure naziste. A Lipsia ancora Vasari pubblica Aeropittura, arte moderna e reazione, che dimostra  la voce della nuova avanguatdia italiama improntata ai  progressi aeronautici ed in polemica contro i soliti passatisti censoti . Marinetti parte volontario per la guerra di  Etiopia. A Parigi viene organizzata una mostra futurista.  A Roma i futuristi partecipano alla II Quadriennale. Marinetti 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. La mostra di Monaco attacca e denuncia l’arte degenerata con esemplificazioni e dimostrazioni . Viene messa in luce per contro, o in risalto, l'arte sana nazista. Cominciano le polemiche e le  divisioni di fronti. Il fascismo ufficiale e d'ordine attacca, 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’alleanza col Futurismo e sia pure da una semplice connivenza.  Risponde il periodico Artecrazia di Somenzi che contrattacca in prima persona a sostenere l'avanguardia e il futurismo. Difendo il Futurismo è la raccolta dei testi di Somenzi pubblicati sulla rivista. Editi nel '37, sono l’opera  più coraggiosa e significativa della polemica per la lotta  dell’avanguardia. Futurismo di destra e futurismo di sinistra  L’avanguardia, del resto, è sempre eterogenea e sfaccettata. 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 gratuito. 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 destra e di fascismo di sinistra.   Il centro, almeno nelle avanguardie, non ha tendenze, 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’avanguardia 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 bergsoniana o nietzschiana: poteva però essere anche di sinistra 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 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 spontaneismo, 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 attenuazioni del caso, affermava che l'essenza del Futurismo è  e non può non essere rivoluzionaria . E ancora, a specificare meglio il concetto: ... Bisogna dire che nel nostro movimento i termini di sinistra e destra non si oppongono, perdono cioè il loto significato convenzionale.  La mentalità futurista supera il contrasto fra il sovvettimento e la conservazione, in quanto si libera di continuo  in uno slancio creativo , tanto per la precisione dei termini 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 Fututismo appartiene: e non truccare il proprio ingegno con  un'etichetta di convenienza. Chi si dichiara avanguardista ma non futurista, sputa nel piatto dove ha mangiato . E fin qui è tutto chiaro e conseguenziale. Ma vediamo come ancora il Corra continua: Poi, lo stabilirci  questo principio; che il privilegio di poter restare nella  sfera magnetica del Futurismo pure affermando, nella propria 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 corretto 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 vertigini... . E ancora: Questo è futurismo: e di ultra estrema sinistra. Le mie autonomie sintetiche di anime e di  sensi, le mie aeropitture di tipi e di paesaggi, i miei cosmopolitismi spaziali e i miei intimismi votticosi, stanno  per una intransigenza etico-estetica che costituisce, ormai, 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: fante 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 vivrà . Dove si dimostta ancota una volta, come se non bastasse, 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 diventato 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. Futurismo ed ebraismo Innumerevoli differenze separano il popolo russo dal  popolo italiano, oltre a quella tipica che distingue un popolo vinto e un popolo vincitore. I loro bisogni sono divetsi 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 come il nostro vuol fare la sua rivoluzione, come un aeranauta getta la zavorra per salire più in alto... Non esiste  in Italia antisemitismo. Non abbiamo dunque ebrei da redimere, valutare o seguire , sosteneva Marinetti:  e lo diceva nella sua opera già esaminata A! di là del Comunismo. 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 scienziati del 14 luglio ’38, e la Carta della Razza, cui fanno seguito le leggi razziali  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 campagna antisemita per promuovere un'edizione italiana della  operazione nazista dell’“arte degenerata” è un aspetto notevole dell’azione pubblicistica che precedette e accompagnò quei provvedimenti. L'azione pubblicistica era condotta da Telesio Interlandi in prima persona, che attacca spesso e volentieri Marinetti, il futurismo e le avanguardie attraverso il suo periodico: dal Quadrivio, settimanale romano ad impronta razzista, al quotidiano romano Il Tevere, a La difesa della razza. Oltre a Interlandi  si distinguevano Preziosi con il mensile La wite  italiana, e Farinacci con Il regimze fascista, quotidiano 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 fondo polemico su Arfecrazia, n. 117 del 3 dicembre, dal  titolo Razzismo. Ad esso facevano seguito sul n. 118 dell'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 Crispolti, Appunti riguardanti 1 rapporti fra futurismo  e fascismo che lo avesse scritto proprio lo stesso Marinetti (con Somenzi). 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 futurismo e i futuristi operavano, sia pur sotto le bandiere del  regime, ma in fondo in opposizione a una cultura d’ordine 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 meccanizzata . Intervengono Radice e Terragni a difendere  l’arte moderna. Declatmano Marinetti, Farfa, Scrivo, Monachesi 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. Bosso lancia il nuovo Manifesto  dell’Aerosilografia. Nel 1942 Marinetti pubblica  Carto  eroi e macchine della guerra mussoliniana. Poi parte volontario a raggiungere le truppe italiane in Russia. Rientrerà 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 ancora continua.    16. Il futurismo tra ieri e oggi    Dopo la morte di Terragni a Como per malattia contratta sul fronte russo, Marinetti aderisce nel  44 alla neo-costituita Repubblica Sociale Italiana. A_Venezia riceverà gli ultimi futuristi, rimastigli fedeli nonostante il declino : Crali (ancora vivente) e Andreoni  (recentemente scomparso). A loro vorrà consegnare il futurismo 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 funerali 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’invocazione all'avanguardia alita uno strano ed inevitabile senso di morte, violento ed inesorabile.   Ma l'avanguardia è, pare, ineliminabile, tant'è che il  futurismo continua come espressione artistica almeno, anche se ormai non più politica. I suoi epigoni lo sostengono 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 messaggio 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  valorizzatrice 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 vecchiumi passatisti , deve smuovere il conservativo e assalire 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 dimensione del futurismo: una dimensione presente in tanta  odierna penuria di originalità nel moderno, presente almeno come forza dinamica nella prospettiva di migliori,  più aperti, e più geniali futuri. SCHIAVO  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 vitalismo italiano, e vittoria. Il panitalianismo si esprime e si dichiara apertamente, per la prima volta.  L'avanguardia politica deve accompagnare  l'avanguardia artistica. E il primato italiano in arte st deve manifestare anche in politica, nella forza dell'espansione  del genio (al tempo, di arbizione coloniale).   Poco dopo la Libia, è la volta dell'Austria. L’amore della guerra non può che portare a voler V'intervento. 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 (cattolico o socialista che sia).    Il manifesto, dedicato all'orgoglio italiano , è già un manifesto di guerra. Per  questo lo riportiamo interamente, a dimostrazione della 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 entusiasmante, in questa nostra epoca. Ìn questi ultimissimi tempi, 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 effetto; ma i giornali son tutta la nostra vita ormai e purtroppo. 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 ordinanati 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 Sublimità, che ci sembrano poco significativi dal punto di vista politico,  per riprendere con Socialismo, molta più denso e pregnante. 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, sollecito 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 miserabile 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 generalmente tutto ciò che li caratterizza, così a occhio e  croce, sono un tantino ridicoli; ma le case popolari, l'aumento delle mercedi operaie e tutto ciò che il proletariato 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 spessissimo in questi giorni, e sempre a proposito della neutralità italiana. I socialisti l'’ammettono, non solo, ma la vogliono 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 (giacché 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, se non una lotta di capitalisti e banchieri contro capitalisti e banchieri i quali si servono del proletariato per liquidare le loro partite. Ammettiamo che in ogni guerra ci  sia un sostrato d'interessi; ma non c'è altro? Per i socialisti 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 complessa, 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 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 astenersi. E parlo espressamente degli ufficiali ex cattedra,  giacché agli altri, a quelli del colloquio coll’emissario tedesco, 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 momento come questo, chi consideri la speciale mentalità  di codesti gruppi e la messa in giuoco violenta dei principî 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 unilaterali, 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 secondi, i cattolici, sanno benissimo che un nostro intervento nel conflitto attuale favorendo il trionfo di popoli tutt'altro che asserviti alla secolare imbecillaggine papale, significherebbe un indebolimento considerevole della loro  compagine, e maschetano di prudenza pattiottica il loro  desiderio di vedere ancora l’Italia ribadir con la sua neutralità incondizionata i vincoli che la fanno setva e complice 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 abominazione 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; rincantucciati nel loro buco momentaneo al sicuro dalla burrasca  che gli sgomenta soltanto a intravederla nelle corrispondenze del loro mediocre giornale, essi credono che nulla  possa essere più profittevole del prolungare, sia pure a costo di ogni mortificazione, questo stato d’incolumità ruminativa 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 materiali saranno manomesse e asservite, che cosa importa  a questi miopi sdraiati nella loro flaccidezza quietovivente? A costoro importa che l’oggi sia senza strepiti e senza  pericoli, che il tran tran dell’esistenza seguiti: felici se l'Italia potrà uscire dal rotto della cuffia e sia magari verso 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 abdicata, 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 ripugnante ogni movimento, questa massa pestifera ha già  una voce per dire che muoversi ora è troppo tardi. Ancora poche settimane e sarà forse vero, e tutti saremo  sommersi per sempre. Amici! Noi abbiamo parlato e scritto: abbiamo propugnato tutto il calore delle nostre anime per oppotci alla  vigliaccheria inaudita di una bella parte dei nostri concittadini. 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 Paolieri 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 austriaca 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 Casina, compiuta dai Volontari ciclisti lombardi e da un  battaglione di alpini, vedemmo le truppe austriache sgominate 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 allegramente alle migliaia di sbrapne!s prodigati loro da 5 forti austriaci. I nuovi raccoglitori di bossoli e di schegge micidiali  facevano finalmente dimenticare gli stupidissimi e sentimentali 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 strategicamente manovrare su per montagne ignote, con tale abi  lità che il nemico si credette accerchiato da migliaia d’uomini. Constatammo che uno studente italiano, trasformato in ufficiale, può comandare tutta l'artiglieria d'una zona  e sfondare coi suoi tiri 6 o 7 forti austriaci, scientificamente preparati alla difesa in 20 o 30 anni. Constatammo  come il popolo italiano, sotto la direzione geniale di Cadorna, abbia saputo improvvisare in pochi mesi la prima  artiglieria dei mondo e vincere di continuo nella più spaventosa 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 sicuramente il primo esercito del mondo. Dopo aver visto il popolo italiano, il più mobile di  tutti i popoli , liberarsi futuristicamente, con una scrollata di spalle, dalla lurida vecchia camicia di forza giolittiana, vediamo ora nelle vie milanesi fervide di lavoro,  come il popolo italiano, che sembrava avvelenato di pacifismo, sa guardare con fierezza questa nobile, utile e igienica profusione di sangue italiano. Tutto questo ci conferma una volta di più che nessun  popolo può uguagliare: il genio creatore del popolo italiano; l'elasticità improvvisatrice di cui sempre danno  prova gl’italiani; la forza, l’agilità e la resistenza fisica degl'’italiani; 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; 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 guerra come unica igiene, unica morale educatrice, unico veloce motore di progresso. Eravamo allora sicuri di vincere l’Austria e di centuplicare il nostro valote e il nostro prestigio vincendola.  Eravamo soli convinti della prossima conflagrazione generale, 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 Francia, la Russia, noi dovevamo utilizzare le nostre inesauribili  forze di razza e il nostro genio improvvisatare, collaborando allo strangolamento del teutonismo, fatto di balordaggine medioevale, di preparazione meticolosa e d’ogni  pedanteria professorale.   Apparve allora il mio Monoplan du Pape, visione profetica della nostra vittoriosa guerra contro l’Austria. Infatti noi soli fummo profetici ed ispirati, perché, più giovani  di tutti, più poeti, più imprudenti, più lontani dalla politica opporttunistica e quietista, traemmo la visione del futuro dal nostro temperamento formidabile, e pur constatando intorno a noi la vecchia mediocrità italiana, credemmo fermamente nell’avvenite grande dell’Italia, semplicemente perché noi futuristi eravamo Italiani. ITALIANI! Voi dovete manifestare dovunque questo  orgoglio italiano e imporlo in Italia e all'estero colla parola e colla violenza, come facemmo noi in Francia, nel  Belgio, in Russia, nelle nostre numerose conferenze battagliere.   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 pessimismo imbecille, denigratore e straccione che bha caratterizzata la vecchia Italia ormai sepolta, la vecchia Italia  di mediocristi antimilitari (tipo Giolitti), di professori pacifisti (tipa Croce, Treves, Ferti,  Turati), di archeologhi, di eruditi, di poeti nostalgici, 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 abbondanti e continue doccie di sputi.    Merita schiaffi, calci e fucilate nella schiena l’artista  o il pensatore italiano che si nasconde sotto il suo ingegno 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 fucilare nella schiena l'artista o il pensatore italiano che, fisicamente valido, dimostrando la più assoluta assenza di valore umano, si chiude nell’arte come in un sanatorio o in  un lazzaretto di colerosi e non offre la sua vita per ingigantire 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 fronte ai loro avversari 0 alla controparte dell'avanguardia, 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. C., fra i più sensibili esponenti certo del  futurismo d'assalto , si accorge della presenza di elementi 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 offre 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 presupposti filosofici del socialismo e del socialismo italiano,  in particolare. Il 14 dicembre ancora del ’19, entra  nella polemica un socialista, certo Moannarese, cui vengono aperte le colonne di Roma futurista @ fargli sostenere 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 sincerità filo-popolare del futurismo e la falsità democratica del socialismo per cui è quasi necessario essere  contro il socialismo, ed indispensabile, se si ama il popolo 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, riformisti, sindacalisti, repubblicani.   A parte il fatto che, in realtà, essi siano assai meno  precursori ed audaci di quanto a parale vogliano far credere, io mi sono preoccupato esclusivamente di cercare  il terreno comune nel quale si possa, noi e loro, associare 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 amanti del progresso e della libertà. E' la lotta contro le attuali classi dirigenti, grette, incapaci e disoneste, si chiamino borghesia o plutocrazia o pescecanismo o parlamentarismo. 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 simpatia 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-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, democratici quanto i socialisti, repubblicani quanto i repubblicani più accesi.   Si tratta dunque di mala fede? Pare di sì, perché, se  non fossero in mala fede, costoro dovrebbero inginocchiarsi 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 chiamava Impero d’Asburgo e contribuito a umiliare il tracotante 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 italiana.   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, combattenti 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 all'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 appena il socialismo ufficiale fosse salito al potere?   Perché tentano di far credere ai soldati che gli ufficiali 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 germanico 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 vigorosa 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 schietta 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 capiranno che noi pur amando fieramente l'Italia, non abbiamo 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)  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. Misurare 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 impura.   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 rappresenta, rispetto a noi, l'intestino retto, maceratore e scaricatore 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 il socialismo italiano in particolare, ha delle ragioni profonde balzanti dall'istinto della nostra razza di cui noi  siamo i rappresentanti più interiori, con tutti i suoi difetti 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 filosofica 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 sviluppi 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 nasce 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 caratteristica 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 concezioni 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 dommatiche, e di essere stato attirato solo per la loro oscurità  affascinante. Chi, italiano, può così rinunziare alla vulcanica e solate natura da itrigidirsi in questi mondi senz'aria, non può che trovarsi nell’identica posizione dell’illustre imbecille  surricordato. Le prime utopie della  Città, mantenentesi allo studio di immaginose e dilettose; invenzioni nei primitivi Platone, Tommaso Moro CAMPANELLA (vedasi) passando a peggior vita nelle scatole craniche 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 sognante torpore italiano riempiendolo di idealità fatte di  vita, intessute di nervi sensibili, calde di sangue rossissimo, vogliamo una penetrazione a fondo nel blocco psicologico della nazione: ivi è la direttiva unica delle trasformazioni 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 armonica 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 discendere 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 tentativo 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 necessità 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.Siamo contto il socialismo perché idea generatrice di  vigliaccheria. Della gente che riuscisse davvero ad attuare  la distribuzione economica dello Stato socialista, dovrebbe 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 effetti 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 trovando 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 marale di egoismo e di vigliaccheria. Noi opponiamo la morale della generosità, lucidamente 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 inumana della formula, la sua azione di parificazione monistica, la derivazione logica di antigenerosità = vigliaccheria, 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 centrale, la sciocca concezione di una pace eterna, ecc. ecc. I socialisti italiani.   Sono, indubbiamente, dei buoni socialisti perché hanno già, in pieno regime borghese lo stadio mentale senza  calore e senza colore del socialista di domani. Non sentiamo il bisogno di spenderci molte parole, né di passarli in rivista uno ad uno. Dirigenti: dittatura di vomini che hanno la mira precisa 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 mettersi 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  nell'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. 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 fertile anche quando si esalti fino ai più puri orizzonti. Attività poliedrica, il futurismo è lo sfruttamento completo 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.  È 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 pacata. Polemica no, per non arrivare fino a quella animazione 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 mantenendosi in una linea di cortese serenità, devia in puntatine ironiche, che non èànno ragione di essere, se veramente egli ci vuole aiutare, nella demarcazione esatta della  nostra individualità politica.   Trovo ad esempio molto strano, per un futurista, l'osservarsi che la mia formula (adopto la parola formula,  per attenermi alla dizione dell'amico, per quanto essa abbia un senso storico, che mi ripugna) abbia potuto ringalluzzir di saverchio, con la sua violenza: “futurismo contro 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, Piccoli borghesi al bivio): essere il furore  antisocialista degli atditi originato dall’appartenere costoro, quasi tutti alle classi medie; e pensare che in parecchi 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 male! ciò potrà darci la prova della sua minchioneria, non  già infirmate l’esattezza del grido futurismo contro socialismo. Socialismo non è proletariato L’amico Mannarese fa un’identificazione  pericolosissima, e non rispondente alla realtà positiva dei fatti. Egli pone sullo stesso piano socialismo e proletariato, stabilisce senz'altro questa identità matematica: socialismo = proletariato.   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 violento, 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 immanente, istintivo, fatale, non pensato ma sorto da sé, il socialismo 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 socialisti, mi dichiaro contrario ad un sistema filosofico, giuridico, 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 proletariato. Non debbo, quindi, rettificare in nulla la mia incriminata 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 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 popalo 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 distribuzione armonica di beni, una soppressione assoluta di  privilegi ma su questo livellamento di condizioni mateviali l’esplicarsi diverso, individualissimo delle singole capacità. Qui, evidentemente, si dice:  noi passiamo essere  d'accordo nelle finalità economiche del socialismo . Quelle  tre proposizioni del programma politico futurista di Matinetti, Carli e Sertimelli, che il Mannarese dice troppo  generiche, anno il merito di poter domani assorbire in sé,  senza contrasto, qualunque ardimento consono allo spirito dei tempi. Hanno un’intenzione pragmatista, che non deve sfuggite.   Il programma di riforme economiche, lanciato ai popoli come panacèa, è cosa vecchia di tutti i tempi e di  tutte le genti. Ogni scuola politica è per prima cosa inalberata questa insegna molto attraente. Tutti i programmi  ben definiti, schematizzati, rigidi, anno sempre atteso,  con grande pazienza, che le cose del mando si incanalassero 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 educazione, 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 società in genere (meglio ancora di una data parte di società) creare tutt'un’atmosfera spirituale intellettuale psicologica, che renda possibile l’attuazione di quel dato ordinamento 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’avvento, 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 mancanza di formulazioni teoriche, di programmi economici.  Noi futuristi non siamo mai stati assenti quando questioni 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 tranquillamente intorno: il germe della morte del socialismo è appunto localizzato nel suo sistema di rivendicazioni economiche, aggravato dal fatto di essete così isolato 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.  È l’anima differente. È il cervello diverso.    Se anche noi potessimo conglobare per intero nel nostro ordine di idee ogni aspirazione economica del socialismo, rimarrebbe la differenza profonda, incancellabile di  indole, di origine e di finalità.  Noi siamo per l'elevazione del popolo, e non pet l’assolutismo 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 socialismo: posizione di ostilità per indole spirituale diversa; possibile comunanza di vedute economiche: il che  non implica nessuna fusione; 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. BOTTAI  [da: Roma futurista]   La lentezza delle democrazie, le pastoie burocrati  che dei procedimenti parlamentari. il vecchiume parolaio 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 rilievo 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'amore e le donne in senso romantico sono indici e stru  menti di rallentamento , e come tali da evitare tranne 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: Aboliamo 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 rappresentativa in base all'importanza della loro funzione  economica. Non in base numerica, per cui si rientrerebbe nella concezione democratico-parlamentare. Non più  onorevoli quindi sulle assise delle due camere, ma lavoratori. E sono tutti concetti che ritroveremo nella  concezione corporativa fascista e nella suu Carta del  Lavoro   Dopo la guerra Marinetti intervtene su Roma futurista mel maggio del '19 per ribadire la sua.concezione  futurista della democrazia , come s'intitola il suo scritto, 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 incoscienli, come prodotta numerico d’inetti e di sconclusionati. La forza della nuova democrazia dovrà essere naturdimente 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 democretini rinunzino alla discussione. I democretini s’adagino sopra i loro luoghi comuni, perché il mio piede possa calpestarli. Via, batbe comiziesche che mi nascondete il sole. Via,  mani a ventola e cravatte a bandiera. Fermati, passo democratico sotto cui trema la terra offesa. Arrestatevi, lamentele filamentose, voci incristianare, zuccherose o  pepate. Via, spade di legno, trombe sfiatate, via, inesistenti  barricate. Smontate, uomini di paglia, uomini di stoppa  uomini di cartastraccia. Nascondetevi, ceffi di cera, mascheratevi, faccie rinfisecchite, sparite, ghigne insolenti.  Sgonfiate, protobischeri pastori di popolo. Aria ci vuole,  e luce e calore e solidità, o anima mia. Abbasso la democrazia! Fumano d'orgoglio, le gran fave. Fumano, questi straccioni e stronzoni, questi mangiasputi e fiutarutti, questi  tinconi, questi turabuchi, questi scotticapidocchi, questi  merdaioli, questi caconi, questi galoppini, questi pagnottisti, questi biasciconi, questi lumaconi, questi minchioni,  questi balordi gonzi e gralli, questi coglioni appuzzoni e  cittulli, questi sussurroni caccoloni, questi satraponi virtuosoni. Già tutto il paese fuma, smerdata com'è da queste pecore matte. Pulizia, pulizia, pulizia! Abbasso la democrazia!    Bischeri sollevatissimi, bischeri smargiassi, bischeri  ventosi, bischeri girandoloni, bischeri soppiattoni, bischeri politicanti, bischeri economicizzanti, bischeri vani, bischeri solenni, bischeri tronfi, bischeri crespi, bischeri cal.  losi, bischeri pensosi, bischeti pacifisti, bischeri leghisti, bischeri classisti, bischeri marxisti, bischeti riformisti, bischeri collettivisti, bischeri revisionisti, bischeti comunisti,  bischeri credenti, bischeri fetenti, bischeri ufficiali, bischeri legali, bischeri di cartapecora, bischeri del braccio, bischeri del cervello, bischeri antilibici, bischeri internazionalisti, bischeri democratici BISCHERI DI TUTTO  IL MONDO UNITEVI! La vostra individualità non ha  importanza. Unitevi! Amalgamatevi! Confondetevi in melma! Anche la melma dei bischeri, come ogni melma, s'incrosterà. E sotto le croste ci sarà il gelo della morte.  Così sia. Abbasso la democrazia! Accidenti alla democrazia, impero delle bestie da soma, regno degli schiavi, padronanza dei servi, supremazia  degli impiegati! Democrazia, sostegno degli sfiaccolati,  trionfo dei cimiciosi, glotia dei piattolosi, arma dei brodolosi; democrazia, orchestra di miasmi, concerto di sputi,  convegno di sudori, sistema di muffe; democrazia, vittoria 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 affogano fantasia, ingegno, energia, e tutte le soavità; proterva 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 viverla.    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 molîi 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 arbitraria, 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, demagogo costretto all’accattonaggio sistematico del voto e feudatario di una nuova feudalità peggiore dell'antica, manderemo 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 inttiganti, di chiacchieroni e di incompetenti, avremo un  corpo tecnico adatto allo scopo di dirigere, con conoscenza di causa, la grande azienda dello Stato. In pratica l'idea della rappresentanza sindacale si trova di fronte a difficoltà serie ma non insopportabili. Vati problemi ci si presentano. A quali sindacati concederà lo Stato la personalità  politica? Si tratterà di determinare le categorie di ptoduttori 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 funzione economica che esso esercita nel Paese. Quindi un  sindacato di industriali metallurgici avrà una rappresentanza 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 controbilancerà nell'economia nazionale. L'amico Settimelli dirà che questo è un criterio poco  democratico. Me ne infischio. 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. dovranno esser risolte in parte mediante il referendum  popolare diretto ed in parte attribuite alla competenza del porere esecutivo. Non ho fatro che accennare le principali questioni. Invito 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 questione sia matura per lo studio. E poi per noi futuristi  studio deve significare già un principio di esecuzione.È l’ora di finirla col Parlamento. Abbiamo fatto la guerra  senza bisogno del Parlamento. Senza il Parlamento sapremo 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, inondare 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. Vogliamo 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 minoranza genialissima tutta costruita di individui superioti alla  media umana per forza creatrice innovatrice improvvisatrice. Questa democrazia entrerà naturalmente in competizione 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 almeno 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 minaccioso alle porte è oggi compito facile e senza pericoli per la  unità e indipendenza nazionale.    Nazione ricca di individui geniali, democrazia intelligentissima. 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 rivoluzioni per liberare il popolo italiano da tutti i pesi  morti e da tutti i ceppi (matrimonio e famiglia Cattolica soffocatrice, pedantismo professorale, elettoralismo, mentalità 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 intelligenti 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 mettere 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 neghittosità, il misticismo, il boiantismo ideologico, l’ossessione teorificatrice 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 Germania e in Russia numero quantità o massa d’inetti e di sconclusionati, LABRIOLA (vedasi) definisce la democrazia come sentimento dei diritti concreti della massa sullo Stato e sulla  Economia. Noi futuristi consideriamo la democrazia non in astratto ma bensì la democrazia italiana . Parlare di democrazia in astratto è fare della retorica.  Vi sono numerose democrazie, ogni razza ha la sua democrazia, 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, moltiplicata 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 innumerevoli 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, atricchiti 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 lezioni 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, beve il mare di liquido quasi solido saporito azzurro, tutto  spumante di raggi, tutto da bere fino all'ultimo sotso. MARINETTI  fda: Roma futurista, un SETTIMELLI  MARINETTI    FUTURISMO E PRIMO FASCISMO 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  abbiamo 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 inneggiare 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 medesima testata (I nemici d'Italia). L'articolo non è firmato, ma è inserito sotto il titolo a quattro colonne:  Fascisti, a noi!, con un commento alle prospettive elettorali, 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 completamente 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, sopraffatta 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 menomare la saldezza del tuo accizio, ti fanno recedere con i  loro atteggiamenti di commendatoria superiorità: cafoni addomesticati, provinciali inguaribili.   Vivi in un ambiente pericoloso e stancante perché senti che è creato per l’altra gente 1 mediocre, podagrosa.   Ti urti della continua ostilità.   Ti trovi dinanzi ad un avversario senza spirito, monotono, 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 bellezza, di temerità. Le tue grandi ali t’impediscono di camminare 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 vertici. Oggi ho questa gioia e la divido con quei pochi che  da dieci anni lavorano con me alla formazione di un ambiente 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 lavorando il campo politico. Ci dovevamo incontrare. Un gigante 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 dentro la realtà e non avrà mai il collaudo delle sue energie.  Domina le folle, organizza, sbaraglia Turati, Treves, Raimondo. 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 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'azione ha bisogno di concretare, vuol raccogliere ciò che semina 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 incoerenza con duttilità, che non vivono dentro la vita vera e  vibrante, ma fra gli schemi arrugginiti di una mentalità  libera. Il Fascismo raccoglie gli italiani più intelligenti e più  moderni con la sua ferrea ossatura di concretamento fasciato da una atmosfera di sensibilità, di cordialità idealistica, di eleganza e di colore. Rende possibile la politica  anche per i temperamenti più contrari ad essa. Per esempio 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’atmosfera politica che non ripugna a questi scelti, a questi migliori. 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, basata 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 C.,  (Grida unanimi di: Viva Mario Carli! e applausi). Il futurista Mario Carli è sfuggito alla polizia di Albricci e gode l'atmosfera igienica di Fiume italiana. Ha  brillato così una volta di più l'elasticità veramente futurista 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 Settimelli, 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, rinunciatario e nittiano. V'invito a gridare ancora: Viva il futurista 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 pericolo nero. Il popolo italiano, che ha saputo osare, volere e compiere l’immane sforzo eroico e vittorioso della 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 dobbiamo 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 popoli un costante ossequio alla saggezza dei vecchi, chiamati 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 progresso spirituale e materiale delle razze. I legislatori hanno sempre sognato di frenare il potere del Governo. Essi ignoravano dunque che potere significa frenare. Essi ignaravano che un Governo è sempre 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, organo animatore, semplificatore e acceleratore, che in una  razza come la nostta, piena di precoci geniali, sarà Ja miglior difesa della gioventù e la migliore garanzia del progresso e di alta spiritualità. Io sogno in Italia un Governo 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 moribondi.   Il Consiglio tecnico che rimpiazzerà il Senato dovrà  dunque essere composto di giovanissimi, non ancora trentenni. Insisto su ciò, poiché in Italia si usa invitare i giovani 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 audace quasi maturo per il governo d’Italia! Occorre un Eccitatorio di giovanissimi, per evitare un  Consiglio tecnico di vecchi, che dopo aver tenuto inutilizzato per molto rempo il loro ingegno tecnico non sanno più che tecnicamente morire.   La vita italiana si riduce ancora ad una convivenza  cretina di quadri d'antenati senza autorità e senza prestigio, che spandono intorno, in una penombra tediosa, pessimisino, pedantismo, austerità professorale, verbalismo patriottico e polvere di Roma antica, e in mezzo ai quali si  aggira sporca, taccagna, provinciale, brindellona, la servaccia che fa tutto male, tiene malissimo la casa, non  vuo! migliorare nulla, perde la giornata a verificare i conti di cucina, ha sempre paura di spendere e di rovinarsi,  ed è tronfia perché sa fare una minestra non troppo salata 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 forme d'insegnamento pratico e tecnico, nelle officine e nei 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 all'aria aperta, con un predominio assoluto del giuoco sulla lettura, parlare dell'Italia divina ai ragazzi italiani, insegnare loro, accanitamente, il coraggio fisico e il disprezzo 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, veramente 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 Arditi, e il capitano Vecchi, capi dell'Associazione degli Arditi, hanno sentito come me, nascere dal futurismo e dalla guerra, l'Arditiswo, nuova sensibilità di patriottismo eroico 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 primi manifesti futuristi e che furopo realizzate durante la  guerra nelle esercitazioni quotidiane degli Arditi (avanzata carponi sotto un tiro radente di mitragliatrici; aspettare 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 programma, parlandovi del solo proletariato veramente dimenticato ed oppresso: l'importantissimo proletariato dei geniali. È indiscutibile che Ia nostra razza supera tutte Je razze 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 eloquenza 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 fondo 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 brutalmente l'ambiente artistico-letterario, esautorarne e distruggerne la gerontocrazia, svalutare i criteri e i professori pedanti, incoraggiare tutti gli slanci temerari dell’ingegno 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, Galli, Depero, Dudreville, Primo Conti, i geniali creatori del  Teatro Sintetico: Bruno Corra e Settimelli, e i valorosi  scrittori futuristi di Roma futurista, Rocca, Bottai, Federico Pinna, Volt e Rolzon, altissima bandiera d'’italianità  in America.   Con meravigliosa elasticità passando dall'arte all’azione 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: Verrà esposta per un mese un’opera di pittura,  scultura, plastica in genere, disegni di architettura, disegni di macchine, progetti di invenzioni. Verrà eseguita un’opera musicale, piccola o grande, orchestrale o pianistica di qualsiasi genere, di qual:  siasi forma, di qualsiasi dimensione. Verranno letti, esposti, declamati poemi, prose,  scritti di scienza di ogni genere, d'ogni forma, d'ogni dimensione. Tutti i cittadini avranno diritto di esporre gratuitamente.  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 intorne alle formole del comunismo e della dittatura del prolerariato, 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 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 tenacemente 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’intellettualismo cavilloso e avvocatesco dei Treves e dei Turati, si scagliarono gli spiriti veramente puri, lirici e creatori, 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 trincerato del suo Popolo d’Italia ha difeso alle spalle noi combattenti al fronte contro le ondate dei nemici interni, portando le città italiane dal lurido episodio di Caporetto  alla storia ideale di Vittorio Veneto (Applausi).  Gli artisti faranno finalmente del governo un’arie disinteressata, al posto di quello che è ora, cioè una pedantesca scienza del furto e della vigliaccheria.  eri Io credo che le istituzioni parlamentari siano fatalmenre 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, sbarazzandosi 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 Piave e quella di Vittorio Veneto (Applausi).    Artisticamente improvvisando tutto, e con genio creatore, la mia bella autoblindata dell'ottava Squadriglia al  comando del capitano Raby guadava come una torpediniera 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 austriaco disfatto, e schizzava fuori dalla schiera contro  Vienna.   Artisticamente, il genio creatore di D'Annunzio conquistò Fiume italiana.   In Fiume italiana, io provai recentemente il più acuto spasimo di guida della mia vita, nel gualcire un pacco  di corone austriache deprezzate a pochi centesimi dalla nostra 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 (secondo la definizione di De Felice), quello dell’assestamento 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 realizzazione 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 illustrato 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'intitola 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  C. 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 nuovo Futurismo, esprime aminirazione ed esalta lo spirito  rivoluzionario della Mostra nel decennale della Rivoluzione (svoltasi a Roma). Intitola Varticolo Stile futurista 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. 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'avanguardia italiana. In questo sensa i futuristi non possono  non guardure a lui come ad un appoggio e ad un sostegno, come del resto egli medesima più volte si è dimostrato. 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 Ventitre marzo futurfascista, mette in rilievo i caratteri comuni di futurismo e fascismo, anche quelli per cui  molti fascisti non st identificano con i futuristi ed anzi  simmedesimano nel loro contrario essendo dei rimorchiati 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 sormontare gli eventuali ostacoli dei soliti misoneisti. Ad ogni modo questa lettera può servirti di viatico.   Ciao, con amicizia, MUSSOLINI Vittorio Veneto e l’avvento del Fascismo al potere costituiscono la realizzazione del programma minimo futurista lanciato (con un programma massimo non ancora raggiunto) 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 italiano, la fiducia illimitata nell’avvenire degli italiani, la distruzione dell'impero austroungarico, l’eroismo quotidiano,  l’amore del pericolo, la violenza riabilitata come argomento  decisivo, la glorificazione della guerra sola igiene del mondo, la religione della velocità, della novità, dell’ottimismo e  dell’originalità, l'avvento dei giovani al potere contro lo spirito 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 bolscevico 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 quarantenne Presidente del Consiglio un meraviglioso remperamento 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 quardiani 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 discorso 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 burocrazia si addormentava sulle pratiche emarginate. Oggi tutto deve procedere con la massima rapidità. Se tutti procederemo con questo ritmo di forza e di volontà e di allegrezza, 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 industriale. 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 costruire le glorie del presente e del domani Noi siamo la generazione 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: DIFESA DEI GIOVANI ARTISTI ITALIANI  NOVATORI in tutte le manifestazioni artistiche promosse dallo Stato, dai Comuni e private. Esempi: Alla Biennale di Venezia furono invitati avanguardisti e futuristi stranieri {Archipenko, Kokoschka, Campendonk), mentre non furono mai invitati i futuristi italiani  (creatori di tutti i futurismi). Bisogna sradicare questa ignobile antitalianità sistematica!    c) Al Teatro della Scala {che ha la funzione di rivelare, 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 inferiori ai nostri, Bisogna sradicare questa ignobile antitalianità sistematica! Il Teatro di Siracusa non può essere riservato alla  gloria dei classici greci! Domandiamo che, alternativamente  alle rappresentazioni delle opere classiche, si svolga un concorso per un dramma moderno pittoresco adatto all'aria  aperta di un giovane siciliano da premiarsi e incoronarsi solennemente nel teatro stesso. (Proposte Marinetti, Prampolini, Jannelli, Nicastro, Carrozza, Russolo, Mario Carli, Depero, Cangiullo, Giuseppe Steiner, Volt, Somenzi, Azari,  Matasco, Dottori, Pannaggi, Tato, Caviglioni, Paladini Raciti, 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 esclusivo beneficio degli artisti creatori italiani.   Come si aprono delle Banche di credito a favore delia  industria e del commercio, similmente si dovranno creare 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 privato (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 satebbe 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 statale.   L'Istituto agirebbe poi come una Banca per gli artisti,  accetterebbe depositi di opere d'arte, e in base alla valutazione reale darebbe sovvenzioni od aprirebbe crediti.   L’opera d’arte giacente costituirebbe un deposito fruttifero per il depositante e per l’Istituto stesso che promuoverebbe 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 artistiche od aprirvi periodiche mostre. (Proposta Prampolini,  Marinetti, Russolo, Cangiullo, Depero, Settimelli, Mario  Carli, Buzzi, Matasco). DIFESA DELL’ITALIANITÀ.  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, Marasco, Rognoni. Italianizzazione della nuova architettura contro l'uso  sistematico di plagiare le architetture straniere. Cominciare  questa italianizzazione in tutti gli edifici statali, specialmente nei paesi redenti. (Proposte Virgilio Marchi, Depeto, Russolo, Buzzi, Somenzi, Azari, Marasco, Prampolini, Folgore, Volt. Italianizzazione obbligatoria delle edizioni e dei caratteri tipografici. Proposta Frassinelli, Rampa-Rossi. ABOLIZIONE DELLE ACCADEMIE, Istituti di Atte e Scuole professionali. Gl’attuali sistemi d'insegnamento nan corrispondono alle 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 Professionali senz’altre sostituzioni. (Proposta Marasco).  PROPAGANDA ARTISTICA ITALIANA ALL'ESTERO mediante un Istituto Nazionale di propaganda artistica all’estero che tuteli glì interessi artistici ed economici 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. (Proposta 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, architettura, musica, riservati ai giovani non ancora venticinquenni, da premiarsi mediante un referendum popolare. (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 hanno ormai provato in modo incontestabile la loro genialità  innovatrice, fonte di quell’ottimismo che è indispensabile alla salute della Patria. (Proposta Depero, Azari, Marinetti, Marasco).  AGEVOLAZIONI AGLI ARTISTI. Riconoscimento legale da parte del Governo dei  diritti d'autore per gli artisti delle arti plastiche, sul maggior prezzo raggiunto dalle opere loro, attraverso le vendite successive, mediante una istituzione simile alla Società degli Autori . Abolizione delle tariffe doganali internazionali sia  riguardo le importazioni che le esportazioni delle opere  d’arte moderna. (Proposta Prampolini, Depero, Azari, Marasco, Marinetti, Volt). CONSIGLI TECNICI CONSULTIVI formati da  artisti ed eletti fra artisti con una rappresentanza proporzionale delle tendenze d'avanguardia. Questi Consigli Tecnici consultivi avranno lo scopo di tutelare gl’interessi degli artisti nei rapporti con le istituzioni statali, comunali,  private e gli artisti stessi. {Proposta Prampolini, Marasco, Marinetti, Volt)  RAPPRESENTANZA PROPORZIONALE. Le avanguardie artistiche italiane dovranno essere invitate a partecipare con una rappresentanza proporzionale  a tutte le manifestazioni e cariche artistiche statali, comunali e private. (Proposta Prampolini, Marasco, Marinetti, Volt). CONSORZIO INTERNAZIONALE per la tute.  la degli interessi artistici ed economici degli artisti d'avanguardia. Questo Consorzio dovrebbe proporsi l’accentramento 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 dimenticare 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 potenza e per vivificarla di un nuovo afflusso di giovinezza. Ma la spinta rinnovatrice della generazione di Vittorio Veneto si è, ahimé, fiaccata nel labirinto delle vecchie 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’Italia 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 avvenimenti 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 ricattare. La manovra parlamentare domina ancora tutto il congegno 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 rabbiosamente ingovernabile non vuol rinunciare al suo  bravo Parlamento, fonte di ogni male, serbatoio di ogni  decadenza. Contro questa massima cloaca nazionale (parlo, s’intende, dell'Istituto, non degli uomini) il Fascismo è andato a impantanarsi pazzescamente. Il Fascismo ha commesso 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 questa 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 antiparlamentari, a noi rimasti fuori dell'aula per volontà premeditata, e quindi immuni da interessi e da schiavitù  elettorali, it diritto di tener fede ai principi per quali s'iniziò la battaglia, e soprattutto alla nostra accesa spiritualità di italiani #4ovi: nuovi nella mente, nel temperamento, nell’educazione, nella passione. Anche se tutto  crollasse attorno a noi, e il nostro sogno trilustre, perseguita con appassionata tensione di nervi e di cervello, dovesse ridursi in polvere di macerie, noi non rinunzieremmo ad essere quelli che fummo e che siamo: cittadini di  una Patria più grande, più eroica, più possente, più dominatrice.   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 brache. 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 tribunali civili e militari, la giurisdizione eccezionale, la legisiazione di gabinetto da sovrapporre a tutte le leggi anteriori, 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-modello, 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 dimenticarsene? 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'ombra 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. Quando 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]   Con la Mostra della Rivoluzione si risolve finalmente,  e in modo favorevole, il grave problema della militarizzazione della fantasia creatrice mediante temi fissi da imporre agli artisti.   Molti fra i pittori, scultori e architetti, invitati a realizzare questa Mostra grandiosa, furono indubbiamente  turbati dal prestigio di queste gloriose parole che dominano ormai nella nuova storia d’Italia: interventismo, Vittorio 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 Accursio, Marcia su Roma. Legati tradizionalmente ai noti motivi idilliaci cittadinì o rurali, tramonti melanconici e ritratti statici, questi 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 insegnare l'invenzione a ogni costo. Quattro mesi fa il Duce, 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 staticità e la classicità placida. Gli architetti incaricati di dare  una faccia nuova al vecchio e brutto Palazzo dell’Esposizione, sentirono l’assurdità di qualsiasi decorativismo simbolico, floreale, mitologico o grazioso. Le loro prime linee gettate sulla carta, rizzandosi ascensionalmente, presero lo slancio aggressivo, guerriero e minaccioso di altissime torri di acciaio o ciminiere naviganti. A me ricordano simpaticamente i geniali fasci di ascensori dell'architettura di Antonio Sant'Elia, il grande e compianto padre futurista dell’architettura moderna. Logicamente andò determinandosi lo stile della Mostra  per virtù della Rivoluzione e del suo ritmo mobile aggressivo. 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 grappoli neri io ricordo soltanto il mosto rosso a terra e l’acutissimo odore di benzina. Quindi sintesi, dinamismo e intersecazioni 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 Rossoni dettemi questa mattina, il  trionfo dell’arte futurista. 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 correnti intermedie lo esclude il suo temperamento nemico  di tutti gli oscillamenti e di ogni mezzo termine. Preferisce 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 Mussolini 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 precipitando come valanghe trascinano nella loro scia deboli detriti  superficiali, se sopravvivono, sono sempre alimentati dall'atmosfera incandescente generosa che emana il corpo che  li ha creati. Passatismo e Futurismo rimangono inamovibili 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 questo secolo fascista più che le biblioteche e i musei si  moltiplicano scuole avanguardiste, impressioniste, razionaliste, novecentisie, moderniste in genere, tutte volenti o  nolenti generate dal futurismo. Volenti o nolenti: non ha valore il fatto che molti sconfessano la loto origine. E'  fatale; anzi vorremmo dire storico. Probabilmente tra cinquant’anni il mondo fascistizzato considererà Mussolini un  utopista e ogni nazione vanterà il merito di avere instaurato per prima il nuovo regime politico. Di queste infamie 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 traguardo del più fulgido domani. Quindi il futurismo rappresenta infatti quell’eroica generosa pattuglia d’assalto  che trascina l’esercito degli artisti alla conquista del nuovo. Questo fatto in sé eloquente e inconfondibile, unico  nella storia dell’arte, ha rapporti precisi in campo politico con la gloriosa epopea mussoliniana. L'inesauribile  ottimismo futurista si identifica così con il concetto generoso originale ardito del fascismo vittorioso. Senza citare  fatti e particolari di cui sono ricchi i nostri ricordi personali, in tema Mussolini e il futurismo basterà ricordare 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: presente adunata futurista 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 materiale per il trionfo della grande rassegna dell’arte futurista italiana.   A questo punto, dopo quanto abbiamo detto, ulteriori  considerazioni sono superflue come sarebbe superfluo ricordare 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. SOMENZ2I  (da: Sant'Elia]  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 merito esclusivo dei futuristi. Il nostro Movimento diede quindi al Fascismo un  apporto qualitativo e un apporto quantitativo: inoltre diede alla creazione mussoliniana un conttibuto gigantesco  di fede cieca, di entusiasmo eroico. Vogliamo indagare il perché di questa spontanea simpatia, di questo irresistibile trasporto del Futurismo verso  il Fascismo; il perché della meravigliosa, totalitaria corrispondenza fra una cemcezione eminentemente politica ed  una concezione eminentemente artistica? Prima di tutto, troviamo che il Fascismo e il Futurismo 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 quelle 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 insanguinate d'Italia: interventisti intervenuti: identico entusiasmo: identici sacrifici: identica volontà di far germogliare il bene della Patria dal martirio e dalla morte  dei suoi figli. E questa è già molto per dimostrare la straordinaria  affinità sentimentale, di origine e di scopi esistente tra  Fascismo e Futurismo.   Ma v'è di più. Infatti, passando dal campo delle concezioni 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 conquista 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 schiere accoglie la più bella e sana gioventù d'Italia: gioventù 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 unico 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 atteggiamenti spirituali ci sarebbe impossibile. Come spiegare questo fatto così nuovo e così fuori del comune, se non riferendoci ad una forza incoercibile, misteriosa, ma che tuttavia sussiste, a quella forza cioè che crea in alcuni privilegiati quegli speciali stati  d'animo per cui il Genio, attraverso l'adamantina luminosità di un pensiero superiore, giganteggia e s’infutura? È 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, degno seguace di Mussolini. È 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. È 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 costituiscono i due elementi inscindibili e insostituibili di un  tutto organico.   Chi ha detto ai nostri giovani di chiamarsi /uturfascisti? Nessuno: eppure essi, generalmente, così amano definirsi. Inconscio, spontaneo riconoscimento di una grande 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 purtroppo parlando solo) fascisticamente e mettendosi sempre in prima fila nei cortei, han tuttavia conservato l’anima 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 senso 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 smentiscono, concedono e negano, opportunisti rammolliti, borghesi, 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 rispettiamo, 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 giovani d'anni che han conservato intatta l’anima dei bisavoli: 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 come un’altra delle tante glorie italiane.    Anche questi così detti giovani non possono e non potranno mai essere fascisti sul serio, giacché essi non  hanno del Fascismo né compreso né assimilato quelle caratteristiche di spiccato futurismo che sono il rinnovamento, 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 ambiente 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 dimostrano 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 pesantezza anglo-sassone dell’analisi. Ma costoro sono i comprimatii, 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 politico-sociale, l'idea fascista; nel campo artistico-spirituale.  l’idea futurista.   Ambedue han detto al loro mondo una parola non ancorta 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 dinamo, generatrici di forza, di fiducia in noi stessi, dì ottimismo. 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'altra, nel campo più ristretto dell'arte, ha egualmente suscitato 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 acquistati per l'imperitura riconoscenza della civiltà.   Ma ambedue continuano nella loro marcia ascensionale: e i critici che affermano essere il Futurismo superato 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 continua marcia, di continua ascesa, di continua conquista  non lo permette.   Un uomo, a idea, una opera potranno esser superati: ma non l'Uomo, non l’idea, non l’opera.   Ed ora che conclusione trarremo dalla dimostrata identica struttura spirituale del Fascismo e del Futurismo, dalla 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 potenza, la dinamicità dell’éra fascista. Questo diritto che noi accampiamo ci proviene da quell'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 diritto: 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’Italia rinnovata sta compiendo verso le sue più alte mète,  sotto il comando romano di Benito Mussolini. FuTURISMO  [da Sant'Elia]  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 fascismo-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 imprescindibile da mantenere 0 da continuare. In questo  senso il futurismo di destra, come lo definisce il  sansepolcrista Bruno Corra nel marzo del ‘32 su Futurismo, 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 puntualizzando 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 rivolgimeuto 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 conformismi e delle convenzioni.   Ancora all'Avanguardia dedicava un quinto ed  ultimo articolo Luciano Folgore, sempre su Futurismo  dello stesso anno. Il futurismo di destra e  quello di sinistra st superano oramai nell'avanguardia  che ancora continua e sì muove nell'avanzata dell'entusiasnio. E l'ottintismo continua in effetti fino al’ultimo, 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 presente. 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 esistete un Futurismo di destra? I due termini non fanno a  pugni? Un movimento rivoluzionario può contenere in sé  tendenze conservative? E, infine, l’espressione futurista di destra non val quanto futurista annacquato e  prudente non s'identifica con l’ambigua parola novecentista ?   Mi pare che qui si tratti, prima di tutto, di una questione 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, nella propria opera matura un remperamento realizzatore di  destra debba accordarsi soltanto a coloro che han dimostrato di saper essere integralmente futuristi. E reclamerei il diritto di sedermi a destra, per mio conto, in nome della mia effettiva collaborazione al Futurismo più rivoluzionario: 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 sovvertimento e la conservazione, in quanto si libera di continuo  in uno slancio creativa. Perciò un eventuale Congresso futurista dovrebbe assumere una configurazione non orizzontale ma verticale: fututisti di cima e futuristi di base, 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 strade del Futurismo, e avremo indicato il carattere e spiegato 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 equilibrarsi tra il dovere del rinnovamento artistico e l’imperativo 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 circolare. Ora il Futurismo vanta la proptia aderenza al tempo attuale anche nel senso della praticità. Le case futuriste  vogliono essere le più comode: la struttura delle città futuriste mira ad assicurare i massimi vantaggi alle moltitudini che devono abitarle. Allo stesso modo il narratore futurista 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 veloce non intende di risolvere l'importante problema al quale si riferisce: ma soltanto di proporre lo studio ai camerati futuristi.   Bruno CorRrA  Sansepolcrista  [da: Futurismo -- Con il suo articolo Noi futuristi di destra uscito  nell'ultimo numero di Futurismo, Bruno Corra ha opportunamente aperto una tempestiva discussione intorno al  movimento futurista che, secondo me, va allargata e approfondita da una serie di perentorie domande argomenti che, investendone in pieno la vita e la vitalità, richiedono altrettante risposte urgenti e risolutive,   Quali sono le origini e le funzioni del movimento futurista 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 Futurismo.   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 averne 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 nostrana, costituirebbe il peso morto e il punto d'arresto del  Fututismo.   Quale fondamento abbia l'accusa spesso rivolta al Fututismo di essere un movimento difettoso e caduco perché nato senza una dottrina estetica che lo giustifichi. Espansione influenza e fortune del Futurismo in tutto il mondo e suo riconoscimento in Italia.   Sono tutte domande che hanno bisogno per una conveniente risposta, di lunghe e minuziose trattazioni.   Ed è più che naturale e logica la irresistibile tendenza  dei nostri connazionali a sbarazzarsene con una sola parola.   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 compromettersi troppo!), per negare poi il Futurismo e massacrare i futuristi. Da troppo tempo si pratica ormai l'iniquo inganno  per non sperare che abbia finalmente a fruttare un risultato vittorioso e definitivo! È il trucco indegno tentato dagli antifascisti contro  il fascismo quando si cercava di mettere in mora il fascismo proclamando il Mussolinisma, nell’assurda canagliesca 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 magnanima del Duce, vederlo a trascinarle all’'entusiasmo e costringerle a riconoscere la poesia italiana come una cosa  caduta dal cielo: bisogna, dico, vedere quest'Uomo straordinario all’estero, per capire che instancabile affascinante  ambasciatore d'italianità nel mondo noi abbiamo in lui.   Se l’attività di Marinetti presenta una debolezza, questo avviene proprio in casa nostra. E' una debolezza che  è forse il suo più alto titolo di gloria. E ritorneremo sull'argomento.   Ma approfitrarsene come troppi fanno, è un mostruoso delitto.   Che cosa volete allora?, ci domanderà qualche imprudente con un sorriso allusivo.   No, no, non invidiamo il puzzo di benzina, state tranquilli: 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 rivolgerci 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 consolazione; 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. GovonI  [da: Futwrismo,  ESTREMA SINISTRA E non vorrei altro aggiungere. Le distinzioni, i punti 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 sembrerebbe 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, spaventato anche i genii scenici sovversivi di Petrolini e di  Bragaglia.   Soprattutto, mi sembrerebbe di tradite le mie Opere  fantasticamente audaci di domani: Beatitudini  (affrettati 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 stampando); e Nostra Signora degli Abissi : dove, fina]  mente, la Motte sarà vinta e le onde cosmiche impasteranno da pari loro la nuova genesi delle radiazioni interplanetari.    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 spaziali e i miei intimismi vorticosi stanno per una intransigenza 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 santi, martiri ed eroi. Ma anche questo è un segno nobile delle 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 evidentemente quindi amate da una Rivista di giovanissime  menti e di ardentissimi cuori: dico, la Penna dei Ragazzi diretta da Vittorio Mussolini, edita in Roma.   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 solo 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 vivrà.   Naturalmente io dico ai giovani, anche e specie se coronati dal casco d'alluminio in pieno cielo: lavorate  non accontentatevi di quattro parole intonate all’onomatopea 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 degli Augusti e dei Consolari , se ne siete capaci! Il Duce  vi premierà. BUZZI  [da: Futurismo,  FUTURISMO SOSTANZIALE  Non c’è che un futurismo: quello di estrema sinistra , ha affermato Paolo Buzzi. Ma questa generosa  intransigenza che parrebbe volere ammettere un unico  modo di manifestarsi contro la premessa di Bruno Corra 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 terranno dappresso: Il futurismo non è formalista; non si crea né  si lascia creare barriere dalle definizioni; pago della propria influenza, lontano da ripulse d’ortodossia vendicativa, 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 rivoluzionaria, bisogna dire che nel nostro Movimento i termini 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 Movimento non si compongono di un solo tipo di futurista. La convinzione può essere unica; ma l'ispirazione e i temperamenti saranno naturalmente diversi. Così uno stesso  tema, di sentimento futurista, verrà espresso in stili diversi.   Si dovrebbe scartare i meno intensi? Fino a quel punto? 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'incontrano 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 della sua anima inquieta del futurismo di destra. Perché  allora è sul terreno pratico. E buon testimone potrebbe esserci Mino Somenzi stesso, uomo ardito, pittore d'incendi, cervello intransigente,  che pure fu l'organizzatore, modesto e alacre del I. Congresso futurista a Milano, 1924, riuscendo con l'intelligente 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 fondò questo giornale indispensabile alle rivendicazioni di conquiste artistiche e ideali misconosciute ed alla continuazione 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, illimitato, 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. Govoni, a seguito della discussione aperta da Corra, proponeva di riesaminare la posizione del  tuturismo fra le correnti nostrane ed estere. Dei sette quesiti presentati, una richiamava l’attenzione su l'accusa mossa 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 attraverso 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 movimento che si proponeva di attuare nell'arte e nella vita  un nuovo ordine di cose. Dal suo punto di vista, puramente artistico, il creatore 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 prevedere i lineamenti estetici del futuro occorre un’intelligenza ardita, geniale e di largo respiro. Ma contro l’esclusivismo boccioniano insorgeva la vibrante liberalità di Marinetti, che più futurista di ogni  altro intuiva la necessità di creare un clima, di generalizzare una tendenza, di suscitare una vasta atmosfera spirituale 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 sbolliscano presto. Basta che la fiaccola timanga accesa e che  trascorra di mano in mano agitata e sollevata continuamente da qualcuno che ha fiducia nell’eterna giovinezza  della nostra arte e della nostra vita.   Futurismo di destra? Futurismo di sinistra? Non credo che sia il caso di parlarne. In quanto alle benemerenze  e al sacrifici, talvolta eroici, dei primi banditori del fututismo essi appartengono ormai alla storia.   L'amico Govoni vorrebbe che i futuristi della vigilia  fossero promossi al grado di santoni e avessero quel tributo di applausi e di ricompense che essi giustamente meritano. Ma ciò equivarrebbe a una giubilazione e noi rischieremmo 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 costo! 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, addomesticato 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’ottimismo che molti pseudo-avanguardisti aborrono perché sono nati con la barba nel cervello, non hanno avuto mai  vent'anni e non arrivano a comprendere che soltanto nell'entusiasmo assoluto e nella fede cosciente ma senza mezzi termini c'è il lievito di ogni grandezza futura e d’ogni  poesia nuova. Chi ha il torcicollo nostalgico non può guardare dititto innanzi a sé e andare oltre speditamente.   Chi nega l'ottimismo nega lo slancio vitale che si perpetua 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 futurista 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, eritico d'arte, e una di Enzo Benedetto, pittore e giornalista. Tre furono e sono futuristi: il quarto (Carlo Bel.  loli) è un esperto, studioso ed interprete del futurismo.  Ci sono sembrati interventi significativi e ittdispensabili 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'avanguardia, 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 contimuare, anche se in oltre direzioni n con altri strumenti 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 (Strasburgo). Vive a Milano e Basilea. È collaboratore 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. Benedetto, pittore e scrittore, futurista da  sempre. È 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. ‘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 Sassintesi . 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. 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, alcuni letterati e pittori, qualche pensatore, di singolare autonomia espressiva. È il caso di Mario Carli, Emilio Settimelli ed Armando Mazza letterati e giornalisti di non trascurabile incidenza che dalla originaria militanza futurista estrassero  dialettica, argomentazioni autonome e maturazione spirituale, 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. Marinetti 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 avvicinerà ai futuristi per esporre alcune tavole parolibere di  accertata ingegnosità, alla Grande Esposizione Nazionale Futurista nella galleria centrale d'arte di Palazzo Cova 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, C., aveva dedicato Le notti filtrate, singolare repertorio lirico pubblicato nel 1918 e ristampato 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 novelle, Seduzioni, cui seguirà, nel 1915, il suo primo romanzo, Retroscena. All’attività letteraria e giornalistica Mario  Carli alternerà quella politica e diplomatica. Pubblica a Firenze Fascismo Intransigente,  con prefazione di Roberto Farinacci, che inaugurerà la tendenza 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 reggenza 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 Marinetti 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-futuristi non aveva impedito di condurre ricerche nuove nelle  arti e nell'estetica alle quali la poetica futurista aveva  aperto liberi orizzonti precisamente influenzando il modernismo sudamericano.Settimelli, poeta, scrittore di teatro e giornalista, 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. Settimelli pubblicherà a Firenze Mascherate e I capricci della Duchessa Pallore, edito a  Milano dalle Messaggerie Italiane. Settimelli risulta precursote di un periodare scarno e telegrafico, serrato e dialettico, inttoducendo la pratica di neologismi sociopolitici  che avranno fortuna nel linguaggio governativo e giornalistico italiano degli Anni Venti e Trenta. Il teatro sintetico di Settimelli si differenzia da quello degli altri autori futuristi per lucida imprevedibilità di azioni-stati d’animo simultanei. Nel fascismo anche Settimelli appartenne  alla corrente più revisionista e le sue Sassate, pubblicate a Roma-Firenze nel 1926 dalla Casa Editrice Italiana, col:  piranno più di un gerarca in posizione moderata e conformista.   Filippo Tommaso Marinetti redigerà con Settimelli e C. il manifesto Che cos'è il Futurismo | Nozioni elementari, dove vengono considerati futuristi nella politica coloro che amano il progresso dell'Italia più di loro stessi, quelli che vorranno liberare  l'Italia dal papato, dalla monarchia, dal senato, dal parlamento, dal matrimonio, precorrendo molti, successivi, propositi del fascismo.   Così la volontà di perseguire un governo tecnico di  giovani, senza parlamento, vivificato da un consiglio eccitatorio di giovanissimi , la determinazione di espropriare 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 nazionalfasciste 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 vigliaccheria , 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 della razza... : medesima l'etica fascista di alcuni anni dopo. Settimelli aveva dedicato un saggio  critico all'opera di Marinetti, edito a Milano con | tipi  di Gaetano Facchi, che può essere considerato il primo tentativo di analizzare la letteratura marinettiana al di sopra  del clamore scandalistico e della propaganda futurista. 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’Irmpero, diretto con Mario Carli.   Verso la fine degli Anni Trenta, Settimelli, subirà al.  cuni anni di confino di polizia causati dalla sua intransigenza critica verso alcuni personaggi-chiave del regime.   Di Armando Mazza, che ci fu dato di personalmente conoscere e frequentare, il futurismo si avvaleva per presentare le prime, contestate, serate propagandistiche nei  teatri della Penisola.   Eccellente declamatore di versi, tonante dicitore di  manifesti tecnici futuristi, Mazza possedeva un fisico atletico 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. Mazza pubblica 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 sono il primo esempio rilevabile e significativo di quella che  negli Anni Settanta verrà definita Ma:l Art, Arte postale , assegnando alla comunicazione poetica il canale  inabituale della spedizione a domicilio del messaggio estetico. Già nel 1917, Armando Mazza, aveva introdotto l’uso  delle Cartoline Postali di Guerra , edite dallo Stabilimento Tipografico Taveggia di Milano, di cui Vedetta  (cm. 13,7 x 19) resta la più curiosa ed esteticamente determinante. 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 componente tipovisuale dialettizza le scelte semantiche, talvolta enfatiche ed irruenti con frequenti ricorsi ad analogie 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 farsi ancora più liquidi e trasparenti quando ci parlava del  Manifesto dell’Antitradizione Futurista dalle righe del quale Apollinaire gli inviava, nel 1913, fiori, rose , riservando merde ai conservatori e ai romantici. Mazza  aveva frequentato Guglielmo Apollinaire a Parigi e Grasa  Aranba a Rio de Janeiro, 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 dipinto dal maestro futurista in un esemplare pastello di  rara fattura e di deflagrante cromaticità, che pubblicammo 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 confluiranno al fascismo, assumendovi incarichi di alta responsabilità, 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 Generale della Deputazione Provinciale. Altri futuristi di  minore rilievo, come il poeta Federico Pinna-Berchet, autore 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 orienteranno verso il fascismo anche il poeta-aviatore Guido Keller, 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 Medaglia d'Oro ferrarese Olao Gaggioli, poeta parolibero futurista e pluridecorato ufficiale del XXIII Battaglione di  Assalto dei Bersaglieri sul Podgora. Nan va, infine, dimenticato il giornalista Ernesto Daquanno, poeta parolibero e cofondatore a Milano del periodico I Principe, organo fascista difensore della Monarchia integrale . Daquanno, che nel 1925 aveva pubblicato 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 Fasci Futuristi , di cui era stato promotore nel 1918 con  Marinetti, passerà ai Fasci di Combattimento Siciliani  assumendovi compiti determinanti. Nel 1924 Jannelli pubblichetà a Messina, per i tipi delle Edizioni della Balza  Futurista un polemico saggio dedicato a La crisi del Fascismo in Sicilia, dedicato in frontespizio A Emilio Settimelli e Mario Carli, miei fratelli nella avanguardia artistica e politica della nuova Italia e anime capaci di rendere 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, aSS0luta. 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 parte trionfa esteriormente unita ma intimamente diversa, poco moderna, niente affatto veloce e qualche volta insi  gnificante. Anche Pavolini, poeta, autore teatrale, regista, critico d’arte e letterario, che si era avvicinato al movimento di Marinetti attraverso l’opera del pittore futurista 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, aderirà al fascismo assumendo importanti incarichi nel diret.  torio del partito e al Ministero della Cultura Popolare.  Dal fascismo perverrà, invece, al futurismo il filosofo Francesco Orestano, Accademico d’Italia, che negli Anni Trenta dedica al movimento di Marinetti saggi di teoria estetica e di critica letteraria. Orestano aveva pubblicato nel  1907 quegli importanti Valori Umani la cui struttura teoretica aveva particolarmente influenzato il giovane Marinetti. Anche ORANO (vedasi), 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 Marinetti una esegesi determinante, del tutta favorevole al  futurismo considerato estetica nuova di apertura internazionale. 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 futurismo. Calabrese di nascita, Marasco, ebbe parte rilevante nelle squadre d'azione fasciste di Firenze dove si era trasferito prima ancora di arruolarsi volontario per la guerra  1915-1918, in cui verrà gravemente colpito da gas di iprite sul Piave e dopo essere stato promotore con Marinetti  dei Fasci Futuristi. Marasco aveva accompagnato Marinetti nel  suo secondo viaggio in Russia, a Mosca e a Pietroburgo,  dove avrà modo di conoscere Velimir Klebnikow e Wladimir Mavakowsky e di dedicare fisiosintesi di estrema  inventività grafica al  medico-pittore Nicolaj Kulbin, al  pittore Nikolaj Burliuk, alla poetessa Elena Guro, al poeta-aviatore Kamensky, al poeta-scrittore B. Livshits, al musicista A. V. Lurié e al regista Tairow. La pittura di Ma.  rasco presenterà sempre componenti sperimentali, non condizionata da temi fascisti o da enfasi dell'aviazione militare e civile che, purtroppo, sviliranno molta parte della  neropittura futurista degli Anni Trenta. Antonia Matasco  precorre il cosiddetto astrattismo delineatosi nell’ambito della milanese Galleria del Milione dei fratelli Ghiringhelli 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, attraverso la quale il più vasto pubblico riuscì a scoprire le  sue ricerche preastratte e protoconcretiste realizzate a Firenze fra il 1923 e il 1930 Marasco restò sempre legato al futurismo e il suo fascismo 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, Parrorami  allo Zenit, risulta anticipatore dell’attuale science-fiction.   Nell'ambito del movimento futurista, Marasco, promosse i Gruppi Futuristi Indipendenti, attivi a Firenze, 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 seconda metà degli Anni Trenta, s'inasprirà la campagna fascista contro il futurismo, accusato di difendere l'arte  astratta considerata giudea e massonica , Matasco  sarà a fianco di Marinetti per chiarire i termini di indipendenza dell’astrattismo plastico da ogni motivazione di razza, da qualsivoglia matrice israelitica o muratoria. Se disponessimo di maggiore spazio per analizzare  compiutamente questo pericoloso momento dei rapporti futurismo-fascismo ne risulterebbe la conferma di una precisa interdipendenza di propositi e di azione fra i due  movimenti. Il futurismo non condizionò mai le proprie  libertà espressive, i propositi di rinnovamento, di costante evoluzione spirituale, alle esigenze agiografiche del fascismo 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 soglia degli ottant'anni.   Dopo un Jungo soggiorno romano aveva dipinto, sino  all'ultimo, cromostrutture dinamiche e inoggettive di autonoma soluzione cinevisuale. Puntualmente ci inviava lettere di accorata italianità, preziosi appunti di teoria plastica che, un giorno, dovremo pur raccogliere e pubblicare  come contributi fondamentali alla storia del costruttivismo  e del concretismo internazionali. Noi giovanissimi non eravamo disposti ad anteporre la dogmatica della mistica fascista alle libertà espressive promosse e favorite dal futurismo, né ci si potrà accusare di aver posto le nostre prime ricerche futuriste al servizio dell'apologia di regime.   Così le nostre Parole per la Guerra, pubblicate nel marzo del 1944 dalle edizioni dî Futuristi in Armi, sovvenzionate e dirette da F.T. Marinetti, non rinviano ai canoni  conformisti dell'aeropoesia futurista di guerra di quegli anni 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 serialistico.    Il nostro fascismo eta quindi disarticolato dalle pratiche dell’estetica futurista, proprio come si era verificato  per gli iniziatori del futurismo: F.T. Marinetti, Paolo Buzzi, Armando Mazza, Auro d’Alba, Luciano Folgore. Infatti 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’ideologia politica di Marinetti, le teorie del suo particolare nazionalismo prefascista sono raccolte in due volumi pubblicati in tempi diversi. Democrazia Futurista, edita a Milano da Facchi, è la sintesi delle posizioni politiche assunte da Marinetti nell'immediato dopo-guerra. Vi si ripercorre l'atmosfera in cui nel 1918, dopo Caporetto, Marinetti fonda i Fasci Politici Fututisti con  Bottai, Settimelli, Carli,  Jannelli, Marasco, i pittori Galli, Balla, Rosai, Depero, il poeta-pittore cremonese Mainardi, lo scrittore Chiti,  il poeta Nicastro, Bontempelli, il chirurgo Masnata, poi Senatore del Regno, padre del  poeta parolibero stradellino Pino Masnata, ai quali aderiSta settanta intellettuali e uomini di varia estrazione culturale.    I Fasci Politici Futuristi si trasformeranno, poi,  gradualmente in Fasci di Combattimento confluendo nel.  lo squadrismo fascista. Così, quando i fascisti parteciperanno per Ja prima volta alle elezioni politiche del 1919, 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 personale 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 Mussolini Capo della Nuova Italia redatto da Marinetti,  Carli e Settimelli, il futurismo, già in quegli 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 futuristi. Una storia parallela dei due movimenti, ancora da scrivere, 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, proprio in corti.  spondenza del mio compleanno, sottoscrissi una domanda  di ammissione ai Fasci di Combattimento . La domanda fu avvallata da due miei amici di maggiore età, come  soci presentatori, i quali compirono coscientemente un piccolo 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 Combattimento , 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 cosiddetti progressisti del momento, ostili ai reduci, in contrasto con la spavalderia ed intraprendenza di questi ultimi.   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 sembrò una particolarità personale e la confessai un giotno  dopo tantissimi anni  a Dessy, e lui mi disse che  gli era accaduto lo stesso benché avesse cinque anni più  di me. Comunque è chiaro che 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 politico 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 ideologiche. Il movimento politico, invece, pet propria natura,  specie quando atrivi alla gestione del potere, diviene duttile e transigente al fine di mantenere è consolidare la  proptia forza concreta, allargando la base dei consensi. Il Futurismo prima della guerra mondiale si caratterizza artisticamente con l'invenzione dei grandi temi di rinnovamento nei settori di tutte le arti e, in veste politico-sociale, nell’esaltazione dell’Italia, fantasticando per questa, una nuova organizzazione anti-demo-liberale ed anticlericale. 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 artisti?   Nel tempo in cui Marinetti iniziò il Movimento,  le forze che affermavano di voler realizzare un nuovo sviluppo sociale al fine di un miglioramento della situazione  economica delle classi più disagiate e trascurate, trovavano una sede formalmente appropriata nelle spinte del sacialismo deamicisiano; ma tale situazione ebbe durata breve perché questo socialismo si sviluppò in senso internazionalista 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 documenti delle manifestazioni spiccatamente politiche del  movimento futurista che precedettero la Fondazione dei  Fasci di Combattimento . Intendo rifetirmi al Programma Politico Futurista, firmato da Marinetti Boccioni Carrà Russolo, all'azione politica 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 del Partito Politico Futurista che concretizzava un suo programma nel libro Democrazia  Futurista di Marinetti, eccetera eccetera. Tutte queste forze si concentrarono nel movimento fascista, sia  aderendo direttamente all'assemblea di fondazione di Piazza San Sepolcro in Milano, sia successivamente anche per  forza d'inerzia. Il fatto è che di solito quando si parla di partecipazione 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 contributo di coloro che hanno raggiunto maggiore notorietà,  trascurando i minori . Ma questi ultimi erano in numero 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 movimento a larga partecipazione di giovani, di tantissimi giovani. Non tutti poterono ovviamente militare nel  campo dell'Arte e maturare tanta notorietà da essere ricordati anche oggi. Ma tutti furono politicamente attivi e  furono a migliaia i militanti di futurismo che parteciparono ad episodi fascisti negli anni precedenti, o appena successivi, alla marcia su Roma.    Non credo di sbagliare se affermo che nelle cosiddette schiere dello squadrismo molte furono le partecipazioni futuriste. Azione lotta e coraggio erano proposizioni  futuriste. Basta ricordare la prima azione di Marinetti e  Ferruccio Vecchi (16 aprile: Piazza Mercanti Milano) 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 affrontare 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 letterato 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 elencati nella schiera dei cosiddetti sansepolcristi .    In seguito, quando il fascismo andò al potere, ai futuristi sembrò che finalmente sarebbero stati realizzati nell’arte gran parte dei propositi del futurismo. In questa  illusione fummo cullati da alcuni elementi: la impostazione altamente patriottica dei propositi, la valorizzazione del  combattentismo e del volontarismo, l'amore per il nuovo  ed il rischio, il pragmatismo attivo dimostrato immediatamente 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 cervelli politici di quel periodo. Tanto è vero che furono appunto 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) problemi immediati dalla cui soluzione dipendeva il recupero 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 pressanti, ove non comparvero personalità nuove che avessero seri propositi di rinnovamento e disponibili a rivoluzionare tutto, come i futuristi. I quali con a capo Mari.  netti e nella quasi totalità si convinsero che la rivoluzione potesse realizzarsi per pradi anche in Arte. Che  la forza del nuovo potesse penetrare per gradi nelle istituzioni d’Arte e trasfarmarle. Pura illusione. Illusione giustificata 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 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 rivoluzionario rappresentato in arte dal Futurismo, rimase a fianco del Fascismo (esso stesso ancora tivoluzionario alla basel, 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 verità 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 dedicata all'esame dell'attuale momento politico. Marinetti  espose alla numerosa assemblea una dichiarazione precedentemente elaborata in accordo con i maggiori futuristi  politici, la lettura della dichiarazione fu entusiasticamente  approvata ed acclamata in ogni suo punto. Ecco la dichiarazione: I futuristi italiani, primi fra i primi interventisti nella  piazza 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: Primo: con un gesto di forza ormai indispensabile liberati del parlamento. Secondo: restituisci al fascismo ed all'Italia la meravigliosa anima diciannovista disinteressata ardita antisocialista anticlericale  antimonarchica. Tetzo: Concedi alla monarchia soltanto la sua provvisoria funzione unitaria, rifiutale quella di soffocare e  morfinizzare la più grande, più geniale, più giusta Italia  di domani. Quarto:- non imitare l’inimitabile Giolitti, imita il grande Mussolini. Quinto: Pensa sempre all'Italia immortale ed al Carso divino. Sesto: Schiaccia la  opposizione socialista antitaliana di Turati e l'opposizione  mediocrista di Albertini con una ferrea dinamica aristocrazia di pensiero. Tu puoi e devi far ciò. Noi dobbiamo volerlo e lo vogliamo. Marinetti - Capo del Movimento Futurista  Italiano. Sono inoltre innumerevoli le manifestazioni dei futuristi in tanie occasioni, con opere scritti ed anche con  la partecipazione concreta alle guerre di quel periodo.Voglio ricordare, però, un solo scritto di Fillia (morto nel  1930 e che adesso cercano di passare per antifascista) il  quale in occasione della Quadriennale di Torino, 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 circonda, 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 inquadrate in una sola atmsofera sensibile, corrispondente  alla vita stessa. Non voglio con questo negare il diritto di  esistenza a intere categorie di pittori rimasti spititualmente arretrati: ma è necessario preparare il pubblico alla loro  graduale eliminazione dalla vita artistica ufficiale, fino al  riconoscimento del Futurismo “arte di Stato” massimo riconascimento che lo caratterizzerà nella sua importanza. Purtroppo però le autorità artistiche avevano il sopravvento favorendo a vele spiegate l’architettura di Piacentini e gli enormi pupazzi della scultura e pittura novecentista, 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 entusiasmi e le depressioni, gli alti e i bassi, il lavoro e la maggiore 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 coerenza. 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 mi sembrò di sbarcare  in un altro mondo al quale non mi sono ancora completamente 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 inaugurata da Benedetta c dedicata a Marinetti.   Continuai ancora e vado avanti con i futuristi sopravvissuti 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? Non mi sono affatto convertito , perché non  c'era niente da convertite. Mi sono trovato di fronte al futurismo come un’anima candida, che non sa e non è consapevole di nulla. Mi sono ritrovato una simpatia inconscia 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. Cominciammo a litigare, e per litigare ad approfondite l’argomenta  ecc. ecc. Così ho cominciato ad essere interessata al futurismo. E sono partito senza avere una preparazione di mestiere. 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 figurativo 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'Idrovolante italiano, D’ANNUNZIO (vedasi) 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 ? 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. Forse D'Annunzio lo aveva influenzato in questo senso, nella vita mandana libera, giovane e spregiudicata. Io lo ricordo e lo ricorderò sempre con riconoscenza. Quasi come un padre. O come un fratello mapgiore. E come l’unico vero futurista, come ho sempre de!  resto pensato. Gli altri hanno tutti mollato . Lui è andato 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 altri (Soffici, Conti, Palazzeschi, Papini, ecc.). Amava essere  futurista sempre e comunque, anche nel gusto del contrasto. Amava la luna, e scrisse un manifesto contro il chiaro di Juna . Uccidiamo il chiaro di luna , vi si diceva,  forse contro i poeti. Ma non era poeta? Predicava la guerra, 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 futurista. E lo è solo lui. Gli altri non lo sono mai stati.  Il futurismo di Marinetti che accento o che angolazione aveva particolarmente: letteraria, artistica, filosofica o piuttosto politica? Politica no, assolutamente e mai. Filosofica neanche, se non forse in senso attivo, ma allora senza pensiero . 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 politica, tout court. Il manifesto politico è del ’13. Dopo la 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 esempio (ardito) e con Mussolini. All’avvento del fascismo e allo  accostamento di Mussolini alla monarchia e alla chiesa Marinetti 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 confronti di Marinetti. Il regime gli offriva incarichi 0 prebende, che continuò a rifiutare. Mussolini arrivò ad offrirgli la  presidenza dell’Associazione dei grandi alberghi italiani, proprio a lui che disprezzava l’industria del forestiero. Accerta 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 simpatia per Mussolini. Si oppose alla presa di posizione politica di Hitler 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 aeropittura 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 intellettuali della Germania dell’epoca. In Italia fu l’unico  in questa occasione a prendere posizione ed esprimersi contra l’ingerenza politica e l'intervento del regime di Hitler  nella cultura e nell'arte. Ero da Marinetti a Roma: arrivava Marinotui  (presidente della Snia Viscosa) che era stato da Mussolini  insieme ad altri consiglieri regionali del regime. Marinotti si era accinto a raccontate a Marinetti che tutti i  consiglieri avevano relazionato Mussolini e che nessuno 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 sapesse... 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 nominato da Mussolini ispettore generale per tutta l'Italia. Poi si mosse da Venezia e risalì verso la Lombardia, perché non se la sentiva di starsene in disparte a  far l’antifascista ... L'ultimo suo poemetto in versi, l'ultima sua espressione letteraria s'intitola appunto: Musica  di sentimenti per la X Mas. E vi si dice: Io sono fato di aeropoesia fuori tempo e spazio . E' già definizione  sintomatica e totale dell'opera. 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 seguito la sua natura e la sua volontà. E nel suo essere futurista 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 fascismo 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 nostalgia 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 cultura italiana. E pensò o vide che Mussolini potesse essere  l'uomo adatto per rifarla, l’Italia, e per darle una sua nuova 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 appannaggio 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 appoggiava. Forse tutti i regimi, quando si affermano, cercano di  eliminare le avanguardie. Il fascismo non le appoggiò, mentre 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 spettare all'unico movimento d'avanguardia esistente allora in  Italia. E invece è stato accolto sì il futurismo, ma quasi  messo in disparte. All'inaugurazione della mostra, durante il discorso di presentazione, Marinetti si alzò ed intervenne ad  alta voce, presente il Ministro dell'Educazione Nazionale,  lamentando l'ingiustizia per l'esclusione dell'unico  movimento d'avanguardia dell'arte italiana. L'anno dopo Mussolini stesso gli concesse un padiglione di riserva, che doveva rimanere, ogni anno, a disposizione dei futuristi (la  riserva indiana , già summenzionata).  Mussolini invece, secondo lei, fu futurista?È stato un politico ed ha appoggiato Marinetti  per avere il futurismo dalla sua parte. Anche se il futurismo 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. 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 collegamento, e fino a che punto ciò è possibile? Per Mussolini il fascismo è politica, per Marinetti il futurismo è poesia. Sono due posizioni completamente diverse. Non si può quindi parlare di futurismo fascista,  nemmeno del primo, quello delle origini? Finché un movimento politico è in fase rivoluzionaria, 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 rivoluzionaria e che non può assimilare come tale le esigenze politiche di un partito. Ecco perché esistono punti di contatro o momenti di simbiosi tra affermazioni marinettiane e fascismo 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 culturale. Tuttavia Marinetti era uomo che non confondeva amicizia ed ideologia: poteva combattere con un amico per  principi ideologici, anche violentemente, senza però intaccare l'amicizia, che rimaneva sempre e comunque. Resta oggi il futurismo? E resta come realtà  artistica solamente, o anche politica, nella sua dimensione  d’espressione artistica? Senza fascismo, che è finito ovviamente, e da tempo. Forse resta il futurismo, come tensione di rinnovamento?  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 manifesti. Volle distruggere, ma propose ciò che voleva ricostruire. 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 ancora 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 o 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 Schiavo] Per quanto riguarda lo svisceramento dei collegamenti  fra Je correnti del futurismo indipendente come movimenro artistico e culturale ed il fascismo come movimento politico 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 piena italianità, condivise nelia sua giusta misura taluni prin  cipî che il primo fascismo stabili quando provò a integrarsi nel campo difficile della moderna civiltà europea. Alla stessa stregua e per raggiungere gli stessi fini il futurismo piemontese trattò anche con l’anarchismo e il comunismo idealitario di GRAMSCI (vedasi), sui quali ebbe una considerevole 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 argomentazioni arditissime che la religione ha relazione di somiglianza 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, la Redenzione e la Vergine. L’apostolato di Fillia s'immedesimava con quello del futurismo in cui si cercava una  forza di liberazione, e la trovava in quel movimento, ciecamente. 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 shavatura 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 cessava di inventare e di portare sempre più avanti i perfezionamenti pittorici del futurismo. Tuttavia, una continuità è discernibile nella sua arte che è, innanzitutto, di una  grande purezza, di una grande acconcezza, di una grande  serenità. I colori si oppongono l'uno all'altro e si sovrappongono con curve e frangie di corallo, macchie di cielo, fantasticherie metafisiche, sogni astrusi. Opera di contemplativo che accomuna sempre iutto e sempre con estrema  dolcezza, e dalla quale si spande una pace angelica che  sembra invalidare, apparentemente, taluni assiomi violenti 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 amore. Tale atteggiamento è proprio l’antitesi del sentimentalismo romantico, dell’ebetismo della debolezza: esso convoglia l’arte verso quell'alta sfera mitica e visionaria che  invade la mistica futurista. Gl’errori di pensiero che possono insinuarsi nella mente 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 attribuire 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 pensatore che fu anche un provetto artigiano; non mi rattrista la sua morte prematura. Un suo misterioso paesaggio dell'ex raccolta Ferrari di Ginevra mi scopre un cimitero e la scala rossa che lo vincolò in eterno con gli  eroi: quello stesso cimitero e quella stessa scala di Sant'Elia. 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 traiettoria 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 nondimeno 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. È una  dimostrazione pratica che consente all'uomo di disincagliare 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 sgretolarsi alla radice, il futurismo è lui stesso alla ricerca dell'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 stimola, spinge in avanti, crea. Non si dimentichi perciò il contributo 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 dell’arte nuova. L’opera di Fillia rivela una tendenza perpetua verso  il progresso nel senso più alto della definizione. Trasformandosi da una pitiura all’altra svolge senza contraddizioni 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 abbattere 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 funzionale 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 appoggiò al Regime attraverso gli interventi efficaci di Marinetti. Però, non ho mai visto Fillia in camicia nera,  ne lo sentii mai parlare di politica nostrana. Parlava solranto 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,  Gambillo e Fiori, Archivi del futurismo, De Luca, Roma. 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; I nuovi poeti futuristi, Edizioni Futuriste di Poesia, Roma  I poeti futuristi, Edizioni Futuriste di Poesia , Milano Noi futuristi, Riccardo Quinteri Editore, Milano Per conoscere Marinetti e il futurismo, a cura di Luciano De Matia,  Oscar Mondadori, Milano, Piccola antologia di poeti futuristi, a cura di Vanni Scheiwiller, All'Insegna del Pesce d'Oro, Milano Poesia futurista italiana, a cura di Ruggero Jacobbi, Guarda, Parma  Sintesi del futurismo: storia e documsenti, a cura di Luigi Scrivo,  Bulzoni, Roma,   Teatro italiano d'avanguardia: drammi e sintesi futuriste, a cura di  Mario Verdone, Officina Edizioni, Roma.  L'arte nella società. 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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, Bologna Pinottini, L'estetica del futurismo. 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Futuris:, Philosophical Library, New York  Artemisia Zimei, Marinetti, Ed. Le Stanze del Libro, Roma Vaccari, Vita e tumulti di Marinetti, Editrice Omnia, Milano  Verdone, Cinema e letteratura del futurismo, Edizioni di Bianco 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. 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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, Firenze,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 (Schiavo) 5  Soffici, Marinetti, Boccioni, Russolo, Sant'Elia, Si-  roni, Piatti, Futurismo e «guerra sola igiene del  mondo Carli, Bottai, Futurismo e socialismo 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 Belloli, Benedetto, Crali, Sartoris, Testizzonianze. Bibliografia. Mario Carli. Carli. Keywords: futurismo. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carli”. Carli.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carlini: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale della filosofia fascista – scuola di Napoli – filosofia napoletana – filosofia campanese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Napoli). Filosofo napoletano. Filosofo campanese. Filosofo italiano. Napoli, Campania. 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   SIRIA]   PST   IR del   (5   FILOSOFI ANTICHI E MEDIEVALI b)  A CURA DI G. GENTILE    ARISTOTELE    LA METAFISICA    TRADUZIONE E COMMENTO    AKA  E  EL Ò.  SX  QAR  RAT  (07 Ds)    A CUR. C.    gt    (O    )    53  Jy   i,  SK    NT    rx  SD    SR  AS,    di  CL n 4 ù TA  d    la  INS    a  SO    i Dya. | VAZAZA  pu SV  lea A PAGA NN  Ì rezza MI 7 / p) NIN N % té  dEILR Li CE. SENI È FILOSOFI ANTICHI E MEDIEVALI A CURA DI GENTILE  ARISTOTELE LA METAFISICA ARISTOTELE LA METAFISICA TRADUZIONE E COMMENTO CUR. DI C. STA  4 ar y A) ù  (NRE (2 CN  SES  ei rrA i N /2.,  (STRU: DEA  ISIN NZIIA SIA  SNA RNIMEN  ENI | Nin KI  ILA AVIS  & N , MS x Na  w ELE  VIRZIONI    BARI  GIUS. LATERZA & FIGLI  TIPOGRAFI-EDITORI-L]BRA A  GENTILE  AMICO E MAESTRO AMATISSIMO. Dubbi su l’autenticità di alcuni libri della Metafisica  aristotelica, e su la sua composizione, furono sollevati sin dai  tempi antichi. Il testo, quale noi oggi abbiamo, corrispondente, salvo lievi differenze, a quello del commento che va  sotto il nome di Alessandro d’Afrodisia, mostra sconnessioni  tali da far nascere sùbito i sospetti. L'occasione è offerta già  dal piccolo libro II (I minore, nell’enumerazione greca).  Asclepio (4, 9) notò che l’opera lascia molto a desiderare per  l'ordine della trattazione, e che vi sono passi ripetuti e parti  prese da altri scritti aristotelici; e aggiunse che, secondo alcuni, Aristotele aveva affidato ad Eudemo il manoscritto per  la pubblicazione, ma Eudemo non reputò opportuno pubblicarlo così come si trovava: il manoscritto subì molti danni  col tempo, onde, quando più tardi alcuni della Scuola ne  impresero la pubblicazione, non osando colmar le lacune di  loro testa, attinsero ad altre opere aristoteliche e armonizzarono il tutto meglio che poterono. L’autorità di Asclepio non  conta molto, ma quel che dice basta a provare che dubbi  si sollevarono ben presto. Questi non mancano del tutto negli  Scolastici, e risorgono più che mai con gli studi aristotelici  nel Rinascimento.   Nell’età moderna, dopo un tentativo, riuscito vano, di dimostrare che la Metafisica è un complesso risultante da libri  aristotelici ricordati nell’indice di Diogene Laerzio (nel quale  non si trova menzione della Metafisica), la questione è stata  ripresa, da un secolo in qua, più criticamente; ma, come    VUuI MBTAFISICA    spesso avviene, a un indirizzo rivoluzionario, che ha rifiutati  come spuri alcuni libri o parti di libri e tentato di dar al  resto un ordinamento del tutto arbitrario, si è opposto l’altro,  più cauto, di mantenere e giustificare, per quanto era possìbile, il testo nell’ordinamento attuale. A dar conto di tutto  ciò, ci vorrebbe un volume a parte, con dubbio vantaggio  per quel ch’è lo scopo principale della presente traduzione:  l'intelligenza dell’opera: la quale è senza dubbio di Aristotele, anche se redatta in qualche parte su suoi appunti e  ordinata nell’insieme da suoi scolari.   Ma non possiamo prescindere da un critico recente, dallo  Jaeger, il quale, dopo di avere, negli Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Metaphysik des A. (Berlin, 1912), tentato di  sciogliere il testo nelle parti originarie, liberandole da quelle  via via aggiunte in sèguito, ha voluto, nel volume Aristoteles:  Grundlegung einer Geschichte seiner Entwicklung (Berlin), collegare la storia della costituzione del testo a quella  più generale dello sviluppo del pensiero aristotelico in tutte  le sue opere. A noi conviene, tuttavia, non allontanarci dal  nostro scopo, e però vagliare i risultati, a cui giunge lo Jaeger  per la Metafisica in particolare, soltanto dopo di avere fissata  la linea di pensiero che si svolge in ciascun libro o gruppo  di libri. Cominciamo dal libro primo. Questo primo libro della Metafisica ha une linea di svolgimento  interno e un'unità di concetto benwisibile. Pone dapprima il concetto  del sapere come fondato su l'esperienza e ascendente per gradi dalla  conoscenza sensibile a quella logico-scientifica; poi, distingue in seno  a questa la forma più elevate del sapere, quella filosofica, ch'è conoscenza dei principii e cause prime. °   Si presenta, allora, il problema della causalità come dottrina dei  principii di ogni realtà nel mondo. Dai primi pensamenti della causalità come ricerca dell'elemento o degli elementi primordiali, si passa,     Un'esposizione del contenuto (per questo come per gli altri libri) è data  nel Sommario. Qui si dà rilievo alle critica delle Idee, ch'è la parte più importante.     rx    sebbene vagamente, al concetto della causalità come principio efficiente  e finale, e alla scoperta della causa logico-formale, posta, quest'ultima,  chiaramente da Platone. L'interesse della trattazione si concentra  naturalmente, ora, su questo punto, ch'è decisivo, non soltanto per il  problema particolare delle varie specie di causa, ma, ben più, per tutta  le concezione aristotelica della realtà.   Della filosofia platonica A. espone prima (nel cap. 6) le origini storiche, la concezione centrale delle idee, la dottrina ultima delle ideenumeri: e accenna già al punto fondamentale di divergenza dal suo  maestro nel concetto del rapporto tra materia e forma. La critica si  svolge con certa ampiezza nel cap. 9, seguendo nell'insieme quest'ordine: a) contro la dottrina generale delle idee; è) contro le idee-numeri  in generale; c) contro la derivazione del geometrico dell’ari tmetico;  d) contro il concetto innatistico dei principii della conoscenza.   a) Per combattere la dottrina delle idee in generale, si parte dal  concetto rimasto nel platonismo delle idee come realtà trascendenti il  mondo sensibile. Le idee, infatti, non sono ancora l’intelligibile aristotelico, e per quanto la dialettica platonica abbia sempre più accennato a considerarle dentro il processo del pensiero pensante il reale,  esse non perdettero mai il carattere di reali posti accanto, e però fuori,  del sensibile. Questa trascendenza restò in seno all'idea stessa, quando  Platone distinse in essa il principio puramente formale (e però veramente ideale) da quello del molteplice, ch'è suo contenuto. Quindi  A. può dire che Platone, per spiegare il mondo sensibile, lo raddoppia  e moltiplica; e che quella spiegazione, in ogni modo, è puramente  formale (detinitoria), non reale, perchè l’idea non è causalità, attività,  principio interno alle cose (reale della stessa realtà di queste). E anche  nella sua formalità non può riuscire a dar ragione delle cose, perché  così il principio dell'unità come quello della molteplicità, presi nella  loro assoluta indeterminazione, non possono produrre concetti di nulla  che valga a intendere il reale nella sua costituzione effettiva. Col criterio dell'unità del molteplice, ad es., si dovrebbero ammettere idee  di proprietà, di relazioni, ecc., laddove l’idea vuol essere ragione di  ciò che nelle cose è fondamentale, ossia della sostanza. Ma come pervenirvi senza la distinzione dell'essere reale in ciò che ha di costitutivo ed essenziale da ciò ch'è suo modo di essere secondario o accidentale?   b) Contro le idee-numeri A. fa valere il suo concetto dell'astrattezza del numero, e la sua ripugnanza a identificare il pensare col  numerare. Le idee non si possono trattare aritmeticamente, nè possono esprimere la sostanza delle cose. Questa è data, invece, nel processo logico-reale dei generi e delle specie, con le determinazioni  peculiari che l’esperienza ci scopre nel mondo della natura.   c) Dal grande-piccolo, poi, cercano invano, i Platonici, di dedurre  le determinazioni delle figure geometriche. Non soltanto passano indebitamente da ciò ch'è inesteso (il numero) all’esteso (figura), ma  anche, in questo, tentano invano di spiegare il passaggio dal concetto  di punto a quello di linea, da questo a quello di superficie, da questo  a quello di solido. Considerandoli come divisioni del concetto (con  metodo definitorio), dovrebbero ridursi l'uno all’altro, predicarsi l'uno  dell’altro: la geometria verrebbe annullata. Invece, le figure geometriche si costituiscono nel processo di determinazione del concetto  di spazio, come svolgimento logico di esso ch'è insieme la sua generazione reale.   d) Tutte queste idee e idee-numeri, poi, in quanto son altra cosa  dalle sensazioni, l'anima le dovrebbe portar in sè, come una scienze  innata, e dimenticata. Ma come, allora, distinguerle e applicarle nei  casi* particolari? E se, avendole dimenticate, non ne possediamo in  principio attualmente nessuna, come dar origine al sapere? Ci vuole,  invece, un principio attuale in noi, l'intelligenza, dal quale scaturiscano  i principii, immediatamente, di ogni sapere; e ci vuole la sensazione  come punto di partenza di ogni conoscenza fondata su l’esperienza.   Così si ritorna al concetto posto nella prima parte del libro, e si  chiude il cerchio del pensiero intorno al fondamento del sapere. Nello  stesso tempo vien conchiusa l'illustrazione, proposta con la seconda  parte, della definizione della filosofia come scienza dei principii e delle  cause prime. L’indagine storica, che ha servito a quella illustrazione,  ha dato questo risultato: i Fisiologi trascurano l’incorporeo, non  vedon chiaro il processo causale efficiente-teleologico, ignorano la  forma; i Pitagorici confondono il fisico col matematico, ignorano la  causa del movimento, identificando le cose con la loro definizione si  lasciano sfuggire il concetto della forma; Platone mette in rilievo la  forma, ma cerca invano di assorbire in essa le altre specie di causalità. Conchiusione ultime è che nessuno dei filosofi precedenti vide  chiaro nel concetto della causalità; e tuttavia, pur attraverso le deficienze e i barlumi, tutti mirarono a esso e nessuno accennò ad altre  specie di cause da quelle poste. Si che si può dire che il concetto posto  della causalità, nella sua distinzione e precisa formulazione, risulta  storicamente confermato.    Su la data probabile (') della composizione di questo libro, v. nota al cap. 9, $ 2; e per il suo rapporto al lib. XIII,  dove è ripetuta quasi letteralmente la parte riguardante la     Poco dopo la morte di Platone, secondo lo Jaeger (Arist., p. 178), a poco  distante dalla composizione del dialogo regi priogoqplas, nel quale erano tre parti:  una storica, una contenente già la critica delle idee, una terza teologica, corrispondenti al contenuto dei libri I e XII della Metafisica. I primi due capitoli,  invece, di questo libro riproducono un motivo del giovanile Protreptico. La critica  delle idee in questo libro forse presuppone anche il magl l8e6v (v. nota a 9, 2). critica delle idee, v. nota, ivi, al cap. 4, $ 4. Anche l’aggiunta del $ 11 a questo capitolo del lib. XIII prova che  quella parte fu trasportata dal lib. I nel XIII, e non viceversa, come pensa il Christ (v. nota al testo greco, nella sua  edizione, in fine al cap. 7).   Più difficile da risolvere è la questione per il cap. 10:  v. nota, ivi, al $ 1. L’ipotesi dello Jaeger è ravvalorata dal  fatto che la fine di questo capitolo distingue due ordini di  aporie: le prime, intorno allo stesso argomento del lib. I,  debbono spianare la via alle seconde, e queste ultime sembrano dover essere quelle del lib. III. Sì che parrebbe che  la clausola finale del cap. 10 stesse più a posto alla fine del  cap. 7. È vero che il Ross obietta potersi riferire anche le  prime aporie al lib. III, adducendo le parole iniziali del $ 3°  del III. 1; ma, da un lato, resterebbero indeterminati «i problemi ulteriori , a cui A. accenna; dall’altro, par poco verosimile che un libro così rieco e ben ordinato, come questo I,  dovesse conchiudersi con l’attuale cap. 10.   Ma c’è un’ipotesi ulteriore dello Jaeger: che, trasportata  la critica delle idee al lib. XIII, A. stesso pensasse più tardi  di far terminare il lib. I col cap. 7. Togliendo, infatti, la  clausola finale ($ 8), si avrebbe un risultato della trattazione che par definitivo ($ 7: questo potrebbe esser stato  aggiunto dopo, proprio a questo scopo). Qui sorge una questione che involge quella dell’origine storica e dell’ordinamento delle parti di tutto il libro. I lavori dello Jaeger,  a mio avviso, mettono fuori discussione un punto di capitale importanza: che la Metatisica non segue il piano di  svolgimento di un’opera propriamente detta: essa non è  un «libro , come siam soliti d'intendere, ma una « serie   di libri, o di parti, delle quali ognuna ha originariamente  una sua propria significazione. Certo, non è una serie  « episodica : c’è un ordine generale tra le varie parti, anzi  un nesso interiore che fa della Metafisica un’opera organica.  Ma quest’organismo risulta dal movimento complessivo del  pensiero, indipendentemente dall'ordine che vi hanno le varie parti, e quest'ordine, in quanto mira a un disegno o piano costitutivo dell’opera intera, è dubbio che si possa  attribuire (come pur lo Jaeger sostiene, non ostante la sua  tesi accennata) ad A. stesso. Prendiamo questo libro I: ci sarebbe di questo la prima redazione, ch’ è l’attuale con l’esclusione dell’ultimo capitolo; una seconda redazione, rielaborando il cap. 7 come dianzi s’è detto, avrebbe mirato a unire  il lib. I al III; in una terza redazione A. avrebbe pensato di  far terminare il libro al cap. 7. Ora, a me pare che la prima  ipotesi abbia molta probabilità, minore la seconda, presso che  nessuna la terza. Perchè sopprimere tutto il cap. 8 e la parte  del 9 non compresa nel XIII? E, soprattutto, perchè guastare  un libro che, integrando l’esposizione storica con la parte polemica, si presenta di così unitaria fattura come poche altre  parti della Metafisica? E con la terza redazione non si sarebbe  perduto il vantaggio della seconda ? Quanto a questa seconda,  poi, non va trascurato che, in ogni modo, il nesso tra il libro I  e il III resta più esterno che interno: non si può dire che questo rappresenti uno sviluppo di quello stesso, o, insomma, che  l’uno presupponga l’altro necessariamente.   Lasciando, dunque, in disparte le questioni d’incerta soluzione, possiamo tener fermo questo: che il libro I raccoglie un corso a sè (A6yoc, péd0osoc) di lezioni (conversazioni e  discussioni), tenuto da A. intorno al concetto della causalità  nella formulazione già data in precedenti scritti di Fisica  (cfr. 3, 6), allo scopo di dimostrare ch’essa va concepita secondo la quadruplice distinzione immanente a quel concetto,  di cui il valore è insieme ontologico e gnoseologico (epistemologico). Quest’immanenza, che tuttavia non accenna ancora a risolvere le distinzioni in un principio unitario, è ciò  che dà il tono più aristotelico alla trattazione: chè la distinzione, per sè, delle quattro specie di causa egli la derivava  dalla scuola di Platone. :    3.  Lo sviluppo del pensiero nel libro II è il seguente.    Il capitolo primo pone il concetto della filosofia come scienza della  verità, ed illustra poi la definizione a parte subiecti e a parte obiecti.  La difficoltà di vedere con chiarezza la verità dipende dalla debolezza del nostro occhio mentale: di qui }a necessità di esercitare ed educare la nostra facoltà intellettiva. A questo può giovare molto il contributo de’ pensieri altrui intorno alle verità. (In questo modo, vien  disperso il germe di misticismo, o di scetticismo, e di aguosticismo,  ch’era nel pensiero precedente: la difficoltà non è insuperabile, come,  invece, è quella dei pipistrelli di fissare la luce del giorno).   . La verità, oggettivamente, è l'essere stesso delle cose. Per cui  l'essere ch'è più essere, è anche il più vero: è causa prima dell’essere  e della verità di tutto il resto. Tale è l’essere eterno, e i suoi principii Son principii di tutto.   Dopo ciò, si attenderebbe di passare alla ricerca dei principii dell'essere eterno, di ciò che non appartiene al mondo corruttibile. Invece, il pensiero si abbassa nel capitolo secondo al mon do del divenire  in generale per affermare la necessità di porre un principio, ansi dei  principii o cause prime del suo essere e del nostro conoscerlo.   Non ostante la oscurità e incertezza di singoli punti, la tesi svolta  in questo secondo capitolo, dell'’impossibilità di un processo all’ infinito, risulta abbastanza chiara. Ci ha de essere, anzitutto, un punto  di partenza e un punto di arrivo: un processo chiuso, in somma, da  entrambi i lati. Chi pone, infatti, una questione di causa-effetto, comincia di necessità de un punto, de un fatto, ch'è il primo, poniamo  l'attuale, dal quale procederà, rimontando indietro, alle cause che  l'hanno prodotto. Se, poi, vien concesso un punto di partenza, l'acqua  o l'aria, ad es., per spiegar l'origine causale delle cose, ci vorrà necessariamente un punto d’arrivo: bisognerà pur arrivare al mondo  attuale delle cose. L'oggetto (il mondo, la cosa, la realtà attuale) è,  così, determinato ne' suoi limiti estremi.   Qui, allora, si pone un problema più interno a esso: il concetto  del suo divenire in quanto processo immanente. A. presenta il suo  concetto del divenire come svolgimento graduale, irriversibile. E passa,  quindi, alla considerazione della necessità di un principio finale e di  un principio formale. (La dimostrazione precedente dava rilievo specialmente alle causa materiale e a quella efficiente, in riguardo alle  quali si esercita in primo luogo l’aporia del processo all'infinito).   In fine: son queste tutte le possibili specie di cause? Le domanda  in A. suona così: possono esser infinite le specie di causalità? Egli  non affronta veramente il problema, e si limita a constatare che, se  fossero infinite, noi non arriveremmo mai a conoscer veramente una  cose. Il concetto di tempo, qui introdotto, non aveva che vedere. Se  mei, un altro: che le molte cause debbeno formare una causalità totale, affinchè possiamo affermere di conoscere una cosa.   L'ultimo capitolo comprove l'indole proemiale del libro. In esso  si chiarisce il metodo di trattazione ed esposizione proprio delle scienze  in riguardo al modo di pensare comune, e la differenza tra il procedere matematico e quello delle scienze fisiche. Di quello filosofico non    X1V MBTAFISICA    si parla. Ma, mentre nel cap. 1 la metafisica par aver in comune con  la fisica lo studio della realtà delle cose, qui il suo oggetto (e però  anche il suo metodo) par più vicino a quello della matematica.    Per l’autenticità, v. nota  al libro: ne sarebbe redattore Pasicle, di Rodi; per la sua tardiva inserzione in questo punto, v. nota a IlI. 1, 3. Ma anche il tono generale è  ancora quello del libro precedente: cfr. il cap. 1 col 2 del],  e la susseguente trattazione della causalità in entrambi. La  sconnessione tra il cap. 1 e il 2 (cfr. nota a 2, 1) si può  spiegare con l'interruzione degli appunti presi da Pasicle.    4.  La serie di questioni, di cui risulta composto il libro III, comunque si vogliano dividere e numerare, ha un  ordine interno di pensiero, e comprende veramente i problemi capitali della metafisica aristotelica ?    Poichè la filosofia è la scienza delle cause prime, è giusto cominciare  dall’aporia prima: se, infatti, le cause son di più specie, l’esistenza  di quella scienza par compromessa. Quando A. avrà definito come  oggetto della metafisica l’essere in quanto essere (IV. 1 e VI. 1), serà  chiaro che quelle cause debbono esser studiate da essa in quanto causelità dell'essere stesso. Questo concetto porta a una superiorità della  metafisic a su le altre scienze: a una scienza dei principii di tutte le  scienze. Questi son di tre specie: principii logici, o assiomi; il genere  delle sostanze o cose prese in considerazione; e le proprietà, accidenti  o attributi che vengon dimostrati di esse. Bisognerà che la metafisica  sia scienza di questi principii. Di qui le aporie 2-4, nelle quali A. tace:  a) che c’è un altro tipo di scienza oltre quello apodittico; è) che dei  principii logici, o assiomi, la metafisica deve considerare il principio  primo, quello ch’ è il fondamento degli altri di ciascuna scienza; c) che  la sostanza studiata dalla metafisica è, diciam così, l'a priori o trascendentale delle sostanze particolari, sì che una scienza di essa non  è, per questo, una scienza (unica) delle sostanze (tutte); d) e che gli  accidenti, di cui tratta la metafisica, son quelli soltanto che appertengono al concetto dell'essere in quanto tale.   Il predetto modo di considerare la scienza e i suoi principii riceve  in concreto il suo significato, per A., dall'opposizione in cui si pone  al concetto platonico del sapere. Per Platone e per i Platonici la  scienza non è della realtà sensibile, ma delle sdee e degli intermedi:  essi, staccando l’oggetto del sapere dal sapere stesso, lo ipostatizzano  e moltiplicano in entità ideali o matematiche. Non vedono che la realtà  studiata dalle scienze è la stessa, la realtà naturale: solo che è con  NOTA INTRODUTTIVA xv    siderata da punti di vista diversi. Soltanto su la base di questa diversità di punti di vista è lecito porre una diversità anche dei loro  oggetti: dell'oggetto della fisica da quello della matematica, e di  quello proprio della metafisica.  La forma aporematica in questa  questione (ò3) è più tenue: prevale l'opinione contraria all’esistenza  delle idee e degl’intermedi.   Ma è pur vero che l'oggetto della scienza fisica solo in generale  si può dire ch'è la medesima realtà naturale: in concreto ci sono  tante scienze quanti sono i generi di essa. Sì che, pare, i suoi principii  (che la metafisica deve studiare) debbono essere questi generi resli,  non quelli dell'essere nella generalità del concetto. La tesi vien ribadita nella questione 6a con la considerazione delle superiorità del  principio definitorio su quello meramente materiale delle cose. Ma il  vero sviluppo della tesi è nelle questioni che seguono. In primo luogo,  nélla 7a: se si prendono come principii i generi, come determinarne  il numero? Si ricorrerà all'’Uno e all'Essere come principio di tutti?  Ma l'Uno e l'Essere non son genere, e per la loro indeterminatezza  non possono in concreto spiegarne nessuno. Senza dire che entro  l’imbito dello sviluppo di ciascun genere, questo genere stesso si moltiplica indefinitamente passando attraverso le sue varie specie, sì che,  da una parte, non si tratta, in realtà, di un genere unico nel senso  dell'identità, anzi di molti generi; dall'altra, esso non esiste fuori  delle specie in cui si realizza: sì che principii, se mai, sono le specie  o concetti specifici piuttosto che quelli generici,   Qui sorge, allora, une difficoltà: noi, anche ponendo come principii  le specie, riconosciamo che i principii son tali in quanto universali.  Ln specie, anche quella più vicina alla concretezza dell'individuo, è  pur sempre un'universelità. Questo pensiero, mentre chiude la questione 7* con un’argomentazione in favore dei generi che hanno un’universalità maggiore delle specie, apre la via alla questione 8*. La quale ha  una parte poco o nulla aporematica: quella in cui A. si pone lui stesso  il problema d'intendere come un principio possa essere universale, e  tuttavia non esistere fuori dell'individuo. Egli lo risolve facendo della  specie la forma che si realizza nell’individuo, nel sinolo, e tuttavia  non si esaurisce nella particolarità di questo. Ma c'è una parte, anche,  veramente aporematice: la forma in niun caso è separata? (Dio è separato). E anche dove non è separata (nella natura), ma immanente  agl'individui, diremo ch'essa è unica (identica) in tutti, o differente  in ognuno? Nè l'una nè l’altra affermazione è sostenibile: nel primo  caso si ha una identità materiale, numerica, una sostanza uguale in  tutti gl'individui, che sarebbero, così, tutti, una cosa sola; nel secondo,  la differenze sarebbero tante de sopprimere ogni realtà, unità e identità, della specie entro la quale soltanto, poi, si realizzano quelle  differenze.   La questione ®, infatti, fa vedere che nè il primo punto di vista,    XVI METAFISICA    nè il secondo, sono soddisfacenti.  A. qui tace la sua soluzione: dell’unità che si realizza attraverso le differenze, onde il punto di vista  ch'egli chiama numerico non è guardato fuori di quello specifico, e  viceversa.   .+ Questa soluzione, sottintesa, presenta, tuttavia, una difficoltà al  pensiero di A.:il concetto di svolgimento, in cui l'identità si concilia  con le differenze, vale, propriamente, per il mondo della generazionecorruzione. Come estenderlo al mondo di ciò ch'è eternamente lo  stesso? La soluzione di questa difficoltà (questione 10*) parrebbe data  nel pensiero aristotelico dalla considerazione della realtà naturale nel  complesso del sistema, dove i cieli rappresentano anch'essi un grado  di svolgimento in perfezione.   Ma, qui, allora, torna più incalzante la questione (11°) già accennata a proposito dei generi: se, cioè, considerando la realtà nella  sua totalità, e non nelle divisioni in cui si offre dei generi diversi,  si debba dire che essa è quell’Essere e Uno che Parmenide, Pitagorici  e Platonici, per diverse vie, ponevano come principio primo e assoluto. Il pensiero prevalente in questa aporia è che porre l’Essere e  Uno come reale porta necessariamente a negare il molteplice e il numero. A questo punto s'insinuerebbe una difficoltà, quale un oppositore potrebbe addurre: se non è reale l'Essere-uno, come è reale il  molteplice-numero? Come, senza quello, spiegar questo? A., che alla  difficoltà ha tacitamente risposto dianzi per quanto riguarda la realtà  della forma e della natura nel loro svolgimento, attenua la questione  riducendola alla parte riguardante l'uno-molteplice matematico, cioè  alla realtà del numero e degli enti matematici in generale. E passa, così,  ‘alla questione 12*. Spezza una lancia in loro favore, me per dovere  dialettico più che per convinzione: questa si vede bene nella parte  opposta, la quale conferma definitivamente l’astrattezza del punto di  vista matematico, impotente a spiegare la realtà sostanziale e il processo di generazione delle cose. °   Quella realtà sostanziale i numeri, mera determinazione quantitativa, non possono darla. Ci vuole una determinazione qualitativa,  un'unità formale, non materiale. A questo, infine, mirò Platone quando,  prima di complicare la sua dottrina con quella pitagorica, pose per,  principio l’Idea. Nella questione 13*, infatti, A. par così pensare.   Il passaggio alla 14° questione è oscuro: l'occasione può esser offerta del pensiero che l'Idea platonica, pur in certo modo lodata dianzi,  é mera possibilità, non attività.   Le questione 15* non sembra introdurre un problema nuovo ed è,  come la precedente, appena accennata.    ‘Integrando, dunque, il pensiero espresso con quello sottinteso, si vede svolgersi, attraverso l’apparente molteplicità,  una questione unica: qual"è la natura del principio o dei principii, di cui la metafisica è scienza. Le prime quattro  questioni sono introduttive, e son quelle che hanno una più  immediata soluzione nei primi tre capitoli del libro IV e  nel 1 del VI. Questi tre libri (ITI, IV, VI) vengono perciò  considerati come formanti un gruppo idealmente e storicamente Compatto, e la prova maggiore di ciò è attinta dal  fatto che il loro contenuto si presenta unito anche nell’abbozzo del lib. XI. 1-3. Ma la forma in cui queste prime quattro questioni vengon riprese, discusse e risolte, mostra, con  la diversità d’impostazione nel IV e nel VI, con gli sviluppi  ed i pensieri ivi aggiunti, che il III ha, anche, una propria  autonomia. Tanto più questo diventa evidente per il resto  della trattazione: le undici questioni, che vengon dopo quelle,  trovano una risposta nei libri VII, IX, X, XII-XIV, ma in  forma generalmente indipendente da quella che hanno nel  lib. III ('). Sì che soltanto approssimativamente, e badando  più ai germi speculativi racchiusi in esso che alla loro posteriore trasformazione, si può riguardare questo libro come  un programma svolto nei libri seguenti. Per se stesso, esso  è una ripresa del motivo dominante già nel I: i principii  del reale non si possono più concepire platonicamente, come  idee e intermedi, e tuttavia essi debbono, come Platone pur  vide, trascendere la realtà considerata al modo dei Presoeratici. Per questo rispetto la questione 13° è da considerare  come conchiusiva (*). Il « noi , ch’è in principio (6, 1: cfr.  anche 2, 17), mostra che A. si considera ancora dell’Accademia come nel lib. I. :    5.  Anche il lib. IV ha un’unità di pensiero, che ne fa  una trattazione indipendente, non ostante la connessione  col III.     Vegga, chi desidera, i raffronti fatti dal Ross, nell’Introduzione (vol. I  della sua ediz. della Met. con comm.: Oxford, 1934), pp. XxIM-xxIv, © pp. 298-233;  e i richiami da noi posti nelle note al libro,   (9) Lo Jaeger (Arist., p. 322) ha avanzata l’ipotesi, abbastanza persuasiva,  che la questione 14° sia stata aggiunta più tardi, dopo l’inserzione dei libri VII-IX:  e888 MANCA, infatti, nei capitoli corrispondenti dell'XI. Si può pensare che anche  la questione 16 sia stata rielaborata e posta in fine a questo scopo. La Parte prima espone concetti generali su l’oggetto della filosofia  e sul suo rapporto alle altre scienze; e, propriamente, nel cap. 1 si  accenna all’universalità e necessità dell'oggetto della metafisica in  opposizione alla particolarità e contingenza di quello delle altre  scienze in generale; nel 2, la metafisica (non ostante alcune riprese  dell'argomento del cap. prec.) si presenta piuttosto come «filosofia   nel senso platonico più generale, e la questione del rapporto non è  più ‘alle scienze, ma alla dialettica. Meglio: alle specificazioni o applicazioni della dialettica, nella Sofistica (eristica), nella Dialettica propriamente detta-(esercitazione logica), nell’Apodittica. Questa tripartizione  corrisponde a quella da noi notata (a 2, 1) dei tre aspetti del pensiero  per A.: soggettivo-verbalistico, logico-discorsivo, logico-oggettivo: tre  aspetti che abbiamo trovato espressi anche nella formulazione del principio di non-contraddizione, e nella conseguente difesa che ne fa A.  nella Parte seconda. In conchiusione, quanta è la distanza tra la Sofistica e la Dialettica, tanta e più è tra la Dialettica e l'Apodittica: la distanza, qui, è misurata dall'amore della verità, e qui la Filosofia sta  vicino all’Apodittica. Se ne allontana, invece, per l'oggetto e per il  metodo: l’oggetto dell'Apodittica è quello della scienza propriamente  detta, sempre empirica in fine; mentre la filosofia studia la realtà in sé  e per sè, nel suo significato e valore assoluto. Il metodo scientifico è,  perciò, dogmatico, quello della filosofia critico: essa soltanto esamina  e discute i principii primi nel senso dei fondamenti stessi di ogni  conoscere e sapere. E si rifà, quindi, al principio primo di quei principii, che è il pensiero in sè e per sè.  È da notare, tuttavia, che  A. mantiene questo concetto dentro l'ambito della dialettice platonica,  per cui i principii dell’apodittica vengon limitati a certe verità logiche  o nozioni comuni del pensiero discorsivo, chiamate assiomi, e conseguentemente anche il principio primo resta limitato nell’ambito di essi,  come un assioma, per quanto supremo e più saldo.   La difesa di questo principio logico si svolge in tre parti: la prime  (cap. 4) mire prevalentemente all'eristica; la seconda (capp. 6-6), ai  dialettici seguaci di Protagora; la terza (capp. 7-8), a confermare,  contro i precedenti avversari, il principio di non-contraddizione mediante l’altro, implicito in esso, del terzo o mezzo escluso. A quali  avversari A. abbia l'occhio, nella loro precisa determinazione storica, non è sempre facile stabilire. Oltre gli Eraclitei e i Protagorei,  è molto probabile ch'egli abbia in viste i Megarici ei seguaci di Antistene (v. lib. V. 29, 2): è il gruppo stesso contro il quale è diretto  il Teeteto di Platone, ma allargato e fatto più petulante per pretese  di ragioni logiche.   La prima parte della difese ha carattere negativo (la seconda, carattere positivo), e, trattando con gente che fa questione meramente  discorsiva, non rifugge dall'uso del metodo sofistico (così come negli  Elenchi Sofistici). Quel che più importa è di costringere l'avversario & der un significato preciso alle parole ch'egli adopera (cfr. Sommario,  a). L'essere e il non-essere (0, uomo e non-uomo) sono presi come  casi estremi: se non si riesce a fargli distinguere questi, non c'è da  sperar più nulla. Un secondo ordine di considerazioni riguarda le  conseguenze in rispetto al reale (chè, in fine, non si vuol far questione  di parole, dice A., ma di fatto): non c'è più modo di distinguere la  sostanza dall’accidente, un accidente de un altro, una cosa da un'altra  cosa (è, c). Vien fuori il caos! (A., con la maggiore serietà, dà all’avversario un fondamento scientifico e avvicina questo caos alla dottrina  anassagorea, o alla propria della potenza indeterminata). Un terzo  ordine di considerazioni riguarda le conseguenze in rispetto al giudizio (d, e): non c’è più opposizione tra l'affermare e il negare, e costoro o non dicon nulla o contraddicono se stessi. Ma, poichè neanche  questa considerazione può spaventer l'avversario, che fe proprio di  questa contraddizione il suo principio inespugnabile, A., stanco dell'assedio ($ 32), invoca contro di Jui il buon senso e la testimonianza  del giudizio pratico, onde nella vita nessuno è scettico, perchè della  verità noi abbiamo bisogno per inoppugnabile necessità.   La difesa è ripresa da ccapo determinatamente ai Protagorei (distinti  in seri e non seri, ma questi sono ancora quelli della parte precedente,  e non si aggiunge per essi nulla di nuovo). Anche questa è divisa in  tre ordini di considerazioni, le quali, per maggiore chiarezza, chiameremo oggettive, soggettive, oggettivo-soggettive. Quelle oggettive  si rifanno alla dottrina eraclitea e le sostituiscono le concezione che  A. he del rapporto dei contrari nel divenire reale (a). In conchiusione,  il divenire presuppone l'essere: l'essere del sostrato e delle sue forme  (non solo intelligibili, me anche sensibili!); e oltre quest'essere che  passa da una forma all'altra, c'è l'essere che non passa, ma è eternamente lo stesso.  Le considerazioni soggettive prendono in esame  il criterio della verità posto da Protagora nella sensazione (d, c).  L'errore dei Protagorei è di ridurre l'intelligenza alle sensazione,  questa o all'immaginazione o all'impressione corporea (si scopre la  tendenza materialistica, l'affinità alla dottrina democritea, di questa  dottrina). Con felice ardire A. prende l’avversario nel suo stesso principio: l’atto del sentire è vero, di una verità non contradittoria, se  guardato nella sua piena attualità. Le differenze di quell'atto si spiegeno dal di dentro di esso stesso, come capacità dell'anima di sentire  l'un contrario e l'altro. Ma A. non ve più in là di quanto gli basta  contro i suoi avversari: quest'atto si determina nell’attualità come la  potenza dei contrari nelle cose, e il suo determinarsi in un modo o  nel modo opposto dipende da circostanze esteriori. Per questo, il pensiero arietotelico trova aperta lo via a ripassare dalla legge di noncontraddizione a quelle dei contrari (6, 12), come s'è notato a suo  luogo (nota alla fine del. cap. 3).  Il terzo ordine di considerazioni  riguerda, più propriamente, il concetto protagoreo della correlatività, dell’esistenza del soggetto e dell'oggetto nell'atto o incontro istantaneo  che produce il conoscere. In quell’atto soltanto esiste per Protagora  il soggetto e l'oggetto, almeno per noi. Ad A. sembra che questo sia un  vanificare la realtà (5, 26-28; 6, 8-10), la realtà dell'oggetto e quella del  soggetto, le quali esistono come potenze per se stesse, e sono il sostrato  nelle cose e l’anima in noi. Egli ha, bene, il suo principio dell’atto,  ma questo, a differenza di quello protagoreo, è realtà ch'è insieme  esistenza e verità positiva dell'oggetto e del soggetto, perchè ripete  il suo principio primo da quell’atto puro ch'è la ragion prima di tutto  il reale.   La parte terza illustra il principio del terzo escluso mostrando  come la negazione di esso porta alle conseguenze esaminate precedentemente: si confonde tutto, e non si dà più un significato alle  parole; si sopprime il giudizio, il quale non può non essere o affermativo o negativo; non s'intende più la realtà nel suo divenire determinato dalla legge (aristotelica)dei contrari. Sono ancora i tre aspetti  della questione, come noi l'abbiamo distinta. E questi si avvicendano  paragrafo per paragrafo nel cap. 7. La dottrina eraclitea sembra favorire il mezzo nel senso positivo (e-e), e negare più immediatamente  il giudizio nella sua disgiuntività e la stericità del negativo nel divenire reale; la dottrina anassagorea sembra favorire il terzo nel senso  negativo (né-nè), e l’eristica. Ma poichè la forma positiva e la negativa  si equivalgono in fine, le due dottrine vengon ridotte l’une all'altra  (7, 10; 8, 2).  L'ultimo capitolo ha carattere conchiusivo: il principio di  non-contraddizione esige per ogni giudizio l'affermazione del vero come  opposto al falso, sì che l’uno non s'intenda senza l’altro: nasce nell'opposizione all’altro. Posti uno fuori dell’altro (come due che si  contraddicono), il vero si converte in falso, il falso in vero, immediatamente, Il giudizio presuppone questa disgiuntività, ch'è opposizione  assoluta del vero al falso, e mediazione dell'uno per mezzo dell'altro.  Ma, come per l'atto del sentire, così qui per quello del pensare logico  A. non dialettizza, poi, in sè l’atto del giudizio ne’ suoi momenti delle  negazione e dell’affermazione: queste, così come il vero e il falso, pur  opposti e uniti nella sintesi che li media, gli divengono due giudizi  corrispondenti a quelli che nella realtà delle cose sono i contrari. Il  capitolo, infatti, termina passando bruscamente ell’esempio di coloro  che o affermano esistere soltanto il movimento (eraclitismo), o soltanto  la quiete (eleatismo): i quali sono due stati contrari, ognuno in fine  esistente positivamente in atto senza l’altro, anche se idealmente l'uno  nasca dall’opposizione all’altro: onde sono insieme in potenza. Anche  realmente, in quafito si guardi ell’essere nella sua universalità:  nell'universo, infatti, il movimento, ch'è anche cangiamento, digrada  sempre più verso la quiete e l'’immutabilità assoluta. L’e-e di Eraclito,  così come il nè-nè anassegoreo risorge, ma in altro senso, dentro la  dottrine aristotelica dei contrari, come un divenire ch'è intermedio tra i due stati opposti dell'essere, attraverso i quali passa l’essere  svolgendosi nella fenomenia della natura: quell’essere che, in quanto  è, spiega il divenire (Eraclito), mea è anche al di là del divenire (Parmenide). E come l'essere, così il pensiero nello svolgimento umano  dall’errore alla verità, de una verità a una verità superiore. La scienza  di questo essere ch'è pensiero, perchè il pensiero è l'essere stesso  delle cose, è la filosofia, nel senso ancora della dialettica platonica,  diversa dalla Sofistica per l’amore della verità, dalla dialettica delle  opinioni per la verità, dall’apodittica per la consapevolezza della verità che possiede e cerca (i).    6.  Il lib. V, citato più volte nella Metafisica e altrove  con la frase tà megi toù smocayic, o altra simile, e ricordato  con proprio titolo nel catalogo di Diogene Laerzio, è sembrato a molti una mescolanza di pensieri troppo disordinati  e di vario genere per poterne ricavare, come pure altri tentarono, un disegno o una qualsiasi linea di trattazione. Qualcuno lo riguarda quasi un piccolo dizionario dei termini  più usati in filosotla; ma questa non può esser stata, di Sicuro, l'intenzione dell’autore: chè troppi sono i termini  mancanti, e de’ più importanti; nè l'indole della trattazione  è quella di un’esposizione in tal senso. Pare piuttosto che  si tratti di un primo tentativo (questo libro è probabile che  sia stato composto prima degli altri della Metafisica) di chiarimento di alcuni concetti, dai quali moverà la riflessione  aristotelica per l'ulteriore elaborazione. Gran parte di essi,  infatti, vengon ripresi, chiariti e sistemati in altri libri e  scritti. Guardando bene, si scorge facilmente che un ordine,  o meglio una serie di problemi organizzati intorno a, un nucleo di carattere strettamente conforme al resto della Metafisica, c'è; ma è un ordine piuttosto interiore che esterno,     Un’esposizione di questo libro sì trova nel volume di Guino CaLoczro,  I fondamenti della logica aristotelica (Firenze, Le Monnier, 1927), di cui un saggio  fu citato in nota al 8 20 del cap. 4. La tesi del C. è che la logica dianoetica  di A., che concepiace l'attività del pensiero come sdoppiamento predicativo (e  quindi come giudizio, sillogismo ed apodissi) sl riduce interamente alla posizione  noetica, laquale fonda ogni determinazione del contenuto logico su l'atto unitarlo dell’appercezione intellettuale (noetico). La dimostrazione è condotta con  vigore e penetrazione. La mia esposizione, qui come altrove, vuol essere più  aderente ai termini in cui si presentava ad A. storicamente il problema. risultante piuttosto dal complesso che dalle parti così come  son disposte in questo libro.    I primi capitoli su principio, causa ed elemento mostrano subito l’interesse predominante per l'oggetto della scienza prima, e preludiano  alla ricerca propria del lib. I; il cap. su la natura è strettamente legato allo stesso argomento: la distinzione di materia e forma, e i  principii aristotelici intorno al divenire naturale ci sono già tutti  chiaramente. Aggiungerei a questi, come complementari, i capitoli su  ctò per cui e per se stesso, da qualcosa, genere, perfetto e limite o termine.   Un altro gruppo ben definito di pensieri è intorno.alla sostanza e alle  sue determinazioni: quantità, qualità, disposizione, abito, affezione, privazione, avere, e intorno al relativo.  L'essere già si pone nelle distinzioni dell’accidentale e dell’essenziale, del vero e del falso, e (per il  processo reale) della potenza e dell’atto. Le indagini su la potenza, sul  necessario e su l’accîdente, sul falso, approfondiscono l’uno o l’altro  aspetto di quelle distinzioni. Meglio ancora si profilano le distinzioni  dialettiche dell'unità, dell’identico, dell’opposto, che verranno elaborate  nel lib. X. Con il concetto di unità stanno quelli di parte, intero e tutto,  e anche il capitolo su mutilato ha relazione con questi; mentre il capitolo su anteriore e posteriore si lega variamente alle riflessioni su la  natura in sè o in rapporto alla nostra conoscenza.  Sono, come si  vede, i problemi dei primi libri della Metafisica, sebbene non ancora  distinti e ordinati come, poniamo, nel lib. III. Onde il raggruppamento  da noi fatto non è rigoroso: nel capitolo, ad es., su ciò per cui e per  se stesso ci sono considerazioni che toccano di più la questione della  sostanza e dell'essenza; e il capitolo su relativo ha pensieri che stanno  bene con quelli delle distinzioni dialettiche.   Si può notare, inoltre, in questo libro, una più rilevante mescolanza del punto di vista naturale e oggettivo con quello umano e soggettivo: già nel cap. 1 si vedono, per es., al paragrafo conchiusivo,  messi insieme la natura e gli elementi col pensiero e la deliberazione;  così nel cap. 5 per il necessario, nel 28 per i) genere, e nel capitolo  seguente per il falso ($ 3: un «uomo falso ). E spesso anche altrove.  La mescolanza su detta deriva in parte dell'altra, molto lamentata dai  commentatori, del modo comune di parlare messo insieme con quello  filosofico, e, in generale, dal minor rigore (ch’ è spesso anche minore  chiarezza), o nel pensiero o nell'esposizione, predominante in questo  libro in confronto con gli altri della Metafisica.    Niun dubbio che questo libro è stato aggiunto in epoca  posteriore: messo qui forse perchè citato in VI. 2, 1 e in  VII. 1, 1. Ma, evidentemente, esso interrompe la continuità  del gruppo che dopo il IV vuole il VI. Il lib. VI è breve, quasi quanto il II, ma supera  questo di assai per importanza, in sè e in rapporto agli  altri libri.    Anch'esso si compone di tre parti, tra le quali non è visibile immediatamente il legame, se si bada, non al-risultato comune dichiarato, ma alla sostanza di ognuna di esse. Il risultato comune è che  l’oggetto della metafisica è l'essere in quanto essere, non l’accidentale,  o ciò che ha una realtà soltanto soggettiva: è il vero essere, di cui  la realtà è eternamente, universalmente e necessariamente, tale. Ma,  poi, la prima parte svolge, con punti di mirabile chiarezza, il rapporto tra la metafisica e le altre scienze, come un problema a s'; la  seconda tratta la questione dell’accidente senza coordinarla a quanto  precede o segue; e così la terza, per il vero e falso. Nè si può dire  che A. nelle parte prima non faccia un posto conveniente anche alle  altre scienze; e nella seconda oltre « ciò ch'è sempre  si pone come oggetto di scienza anche «il per lo più; e nella terza è un accenno  che oltre al vero nel senso soggettivo c'è pure una verità che serve  di fondamento a quello, e non è perciò da relegare fuori della metafisica, insieme all’accidente e quasi al non-essere. Tuttavia, nel complesso, il movimento principale del pensiero in questo libro si può  dire lineare, e in senso inverso a quello del lib. IV. Là dal concetto  dell’essere in quanto essere si passa ai presupposti della pensabilità  e conoscibilità del reale in generale; qui dal rapporto tra l'oggetto  della « filosofia prima e quello delle altre scienze si procede eliminando ciò che non ha vera e stabile realtà; e per assicurarne questi attributi, si arriva persino a identificare il pensiero con l’accidentale. Cfr. note a IV. 1, 1 e 2, 1 su questo doppio movimento del  pensiero in A.    Lo Jaeger (Arist., pp. 209-212) pensa che, mentre il capitolo 1 rappresenta una ripresa del cap. 1 del IV rielaborato sin da principio nella forma attuale, come prova il  corrispondente cap. 7 del lib. XI, il cap. 2 e il 4 abbiano,  invece, subìto un ritocco che alterò la fisonomia generale  del libro. Confrontando, infatti, i capitoli 2-4 con il corrispondente cap. 8 dell’ XI si trova che in questo mancano  i $$ 2 e 3 del cap. 2, e che il contenuto del cap. 4 è ivi  ridotto alla pura e semplice esclusione del pensiero soggettivo dall'essere in sè e per sè, ch’è l'oggetto della metafisica.  Si può aggiungere che anche la trattazione dell’accidente  nel cap. 3 mostra l’influsso di pensieri posteriori (cfr. $ 1 e le citazioni in fine della mia nota al $ 4). Secondo lo Jaeger il pensiero originario di questo libro (e del gruppo III,  IV, VI, tutt’intero) era schiettamente platonico: la vera  realtà è quella dell’essere divino, immoto e separato, trascendente. A questi libri, i quali, a cominciare dal I, costituiscono, con le loro ricche indagini intorno all’oggetto della  metafisica, una parte di carattere essenzialmente introduttivo,  doveva seguire oramai la parte costruttiva di carattere eminentemente teologico. Invece, segue il gruppo VII-IX che  ha un carattere del tutto opposto! Questi libri, infatti, come  ora vedremo, appartengono con ogni probabilità a un periodo posteriore dell’attività filosofica di A., e si possono  considerare come espressione della piena maturità della sua  riflessione critica. In essi non è quasi più nessuna traccia  del precedente suo platonismo. Ora, secondo lo Jaeger,  quando A. decise di introdurre questi libri nel corpus metaphysicum, rielaborò i capp. 2-4 del VI in modo che si stabilisse un passaggio dai libri introduttivi I, III, IV, VI  (cap. 1) ai libri VII-IX. Al cap. 2 aggiunse i $3 2-3, affinchè, oltre i modi dell’essere come accidente e come vero,  venissero anticipati quelli delle categorie e della potenzaatto (‘). Il cap. 4, poi, fu rielaborato in modo da costituire  un precedente al cap. 10 del lib. IX: accanto al principio  dianoetico fu accolto quello noetico (*), non senza un visi   Il lib. VII, infatti, prende per punto di partenza la categoria della sostanza e in questa approfondisce l'indagine logico-ontologica sino alla fine del  lib. VIII. Ed è notevole che al principio del cap. 1 (del VII) si richiama per i  vari sensi dell'essere nelle categorie al megl toù a0cay®g, anzichè al 8 2 del cap. 3  del VI: non c’era, dunque, ancora in A. il proposito di unire questa trattazione  a quella dei libri precedenti della Metafisica.    Anche il cap, 10 del lib. IX è un'aggiunta posteriore, che mal s'intona ai  capitoli precedenti del lib. IX: cfr. nota, ivi. Il principio noetico, dice lo Jaeger,  ò l'ultimo avanzo della platonica intuizione delle idee (in A., le essenze semplict) rimasto nella metafisica aristotelica. L'osservazione è esatta, se s'intende  quel principio nel senso del cap. 10 del IX. Ma nei libri VII-I1X c'è anche uno  sforzo potente di calare quel principio dentro il pensiero dianoetico stesso e farne  motivo dell’unità del molteplice nell'oggetto e nella nostra conoscenza di esso.  In questo senso, esso è un principio ben lontano dall’intuizione platonica, puramente intellettuale, del trascendente. bile turbamento della chiarezza del ragionamento e della regolarità della costruzione sintattica di questa parte del  capitolo (‘).   Le congetture dello Jaeger sono a primo aspetto del tutto  persuasive, e soltanto in un secondo tempo, scoprendosi il  loro fondamento meramente ipotetico, perdono alquanto della  loro persuasione. Intanto, le aggiunte o modificazioni apportate ai capitoli 2 e 4 non introducono pensieri nuovi per A.:  cfr. V. 6, 9-10 e 7, 4-7 (qui l’essere nel senso delle categorie  e quello nel senso della potenza-atto è parimenti unito a  quello nel senso del vero-falso). Sì che aggiunte e modificazioni si potrebbero spiegare anche fuori dello scopo attribuito  ad A. dallo Jaeger. Poi, quel deciso atteggiamento platonico  ch’egli vede nei libri introduttivi va, a mio avviso, attenuato  nel senso dato dianzi nell'esame sintetico di essi. C'è un  concetto fondamentale nel IV e nel VI, e che, essendo presente già nell’ XI anteriore a questi secondo lo stesso Jaeger,  si può ben sottintendere nel III e anche nel I(*): quello  dell’oggetto della metafisica come l’essere in quanto essere,  il quale basta a bilanciare la tendenza platonica della concezione teologizzante con una tendenza opposta, in cui vien  sorpassato il criterio della distinzione della « filosofia prima   dalle altre scienze su la base della diversità e dignità del  genere de’ loro oggetti. Come, poi, avvenga che A. passi  d’un tratto da un concetto all’altro, sebbene non inconsapevole della differenza (la quale non era per lui tanto grande  da costituire, come per noi, un’irriducibile opposizione) (?),  sì cercò di chiarire nella nota in fine al cap. 1 del lib. VI.  In fine: che A. stesso adattasse con un mero accomodamento     V. JaEGER, Fntst., pp. 29 88.    L’essere in quanto essere è ancora il concetto della causalità come immanenza a uno stesso principio della quadruplice distinzione colà posta.   (9) L'essera in quanto essere è l'essere che il pensiero scopre nel fondo di tutto  ciò ch'esiste (nel mondo seneibile e in quello intelligibile), in quanto ragione  della realtà e conoscibilità di esso: p. d. v. critico e immanentistico, dunque,  che A. non poteva scambiare con quello dogmatico e trascendente dello schietto  platonismo (dell’essere eterno e immobile). esteriore una sua precedente trattazione a un intendimento  addirittura opposto a quello ch’essa realmente aveva, è, per  lo meno, una congettura che lascia molto perplessi.    8.  Il lib. VII è de’ più ampi, e prosegue nell'VIII.  Il IX, invece, è una trattazione ben distinta, e tuttavia forma  con i due precedenti un sol gruppo, che qui si esaminerà  insieme. Nel VII specialmente, ch'è il più aspro a interpretare, le singole parti paiono talora seguirsi come serie d’in@agini che mirano, sì, a uno stesso scopo, ma per vie diverse.  Il Natorp lo ha scisso in due parti, e in ciascuna ha riordinati a modo suo i capitoli del libro. Il Ross pensa che i  capp. 7-9 formassero originariamente una trattazione separata. Lo Jaeger divide i libri VII-VIII in tre parti originarie,  delle quali le prime due son costituite dai capp. 1-11 e 13-17  del VII, la terza dai capp. 1-5 dell’ VIII; e poichè l’11 par  conchiudere la prima parte, e il 13 cominciarne un’altra, il  12 si trova isolato. L’annuncio, infatti, verso la fine dell’11  (cfr. ivi, nota al $ 11), non può riferirsi al 12 che segue  subito dopo, e questo (pensa lo Jaeger) è una rielaborazione,  rimasta incompiuta, del cap. 6 del lib. VIII: i due capitoli  sono stati aggiunti dopo, questo come un’ulteriore illustrazione del precedente cap. 3, quello perchè c’era forse spazio  disponibile nel rotolo (cfr. Entst., pp. 53 ss.). Ma a noi preme  di più individuare il problema intorno al quale gira il pensiero di questi libri.    L'essere in quanto essere è qui la pura essenza, il ti fiv slva: che  vuol essere il principio trascendentale del x65  11°  (IV) a fs (XIV) =  18  (Vv) =  4* (XV) >  i4s  (VI) cx (manca) (XVI) = (manca)  (VII) = Questione Ga (XVII) = Questione 12%  (VIII) >  7   136  (IX 6e.X)=  gs    Quest'ultima (13%) non è enunciata a parte nel presente capitolo, ma è pur  compresa nella IV (5) e T1X-X (8). Nella (III) c'è una parte non trattata nella 8*:  86, cioè, qualora delle sostanzo siano più le scienze, queste sian tutte « filosofie .  Ma essa è risolta insieme alla parte precedente nel lib. IV, capp. :-2, e nel VI,  cap. 1. Anche la (VI) è ripresa in connessione con In (V) nel lib. IV, cap. 2.  E Siriano, infatti, la riduce alla (V), perchè, secondo lui, le contrarietà dialetticho  Appartengono agli «accidenti essenziali  delle sostanze (p. 59, 17 88.)  Per lu  (XVI), similmente, si può diro ch'è inclusa, in certo modo, nolla 14* (fin dove la  questione della potenza coincide con quella del movimento: per la differenza  v. lib, IX, cap. 6).   Per il rapporto tra i problemi posti in questo libro quasi come un programma  da eseguire in seguito, o gli altri libri della Metafisica, v. Introduzione.    Il riferimento è al lib. I, come notò già Alessandro, uon al II, che fu  interpolato forse per il suo carattere proemiale. eneri, ovvero alcune si debbano chiamare filosofie, altre  generi, ovVero alcune    altrimenti (‘).  E anche questo è necessario investigare: se soltanto le  sostanze sensibili si deve concedere che esistono, ovvero,    oltre esse, anche altre; e se delle sostanze c'è un genere    soltanto, o più, come vogliono quei che pongono le specie  Ro. intermedie tra queste e i sensibili, le entità matematiche.   “Questi problemi, dunque, a nostro avviso, sono necessari  a considerare. Poi, se la speculazione versi intorno alle sostanze soltanto, o anche intorno agli accidenti essenziali (*)  delle sostanze.   Anche, il medesimo e il diverso, il simile e il dissimile,  l'identità e la contrarietà, il prima e il poi, e tutte le altre  determinazioni di questa specie, in cui i dialettici si esercitano con un’indagine che non sorpassa il modo comune di  vedere, di quale scienza formano tutte l’oggetto di studio?  E anche le proprietà di queste stesse determinazioni. E non  solo ciò che sia ciascuna di loro, ma anche se a ogni contrario si opponga un solo contrario (*).   Inoltre, se principii elementari siano i generi, ovvero le    10 parti costitutive in cui ciascun essere si divide ('). Qualora    11    poi siano i generi, è a vedere quali di quelli che si predi"cano ‘degl’ individui: se i più prossimi, o i generi sommi;  ‘voglio dire, se sia principio ed abbia maggiore realtà, dopo  quella del singolare, uomo o essere vivente.   Di somma importanza sarà la ricerca, con adeguata trattazione, se oltre la materia esiste, o no, una causa per sè;  e questa, se sia separata. C) no, una di numero ‘o più.    tr nni     Nel lib. VI, cap. 1, si distinguono le scienze pratiche o poietiche da quelle  puramente teoretiche.   ‘2) Che la somma degli angoli di un triangolo sia uguale a due retti è un  accidente essenziale (ovpfefaxòds xad’avté) del triangolo; che questo ala grande  LI piccolo, mM un colore o di un altro, è uu_accidonte secondario,   ‘ (8) Le coppie qui enunciate di contrari vengon ridotte a quella dell'uno e del  molteplice nel lib. IV, a 2; è riprese in esame nel lib, X.    L'uno è un punto di vista «logico, l’altro « reale; ma, poi, iu quanto  _i generi sono reali, l'uno è un punto di vista, come appunto si dice, « generale     . l’altro ‘semplicemente «materiale , Asi       IG a E se c’è qualcosa oltre il « sinolo  (‘) (dico sinolo quando  la materia è in qualche modo determinata), o nulla; ovvero,  Se per certe cose sì, per altre no, e quali sono esse.   Di più: se i principii sono determinati di numero o di  specie, sia quelli riguardanti i concetti delle cose, e sia quelli  riguardanti il sostrato (”).   E se delle cose corruttibili e delle incorruttibili i principii  sono gli stessi o diversi; e se son tutti incorruttibili, o corruttibili quelli delle cose corruttibili.   Ancora (e qui è il problema più difficile e più degli altri  pieno di dubbi): se l’uno e l’ente, come i Pitagorici e Platone  dicevano, non è altra cosa dalla sostanza degli enti; o se è  diversa (*), e però il sostrato sia qualcosa di diverso, per es.  l’amicizia , come dice Empedocle, o il fuoco, o l’acqua,  o l’aria, come dicono altri.   Poi, se i principii sono universali o al modo delle cose  singolari; e se in potenza o in atto. E se si debbano congsiderare anche da un altro punto di vista che per rispetto al  movimento. ;   Tutte questioni, queste, che possono offrire grandì difficoltà. E oltre queste, se i numeri e le lunghezze e le figure  e i punti sono sostanze, o no; e qualora fossero sostanze, se  separate dai sensibili, o in essi esistenti.   In tutti questi problemi, non soltanto è difficile procedere speditamente alla verità, ma neppure è facile discorrerne  i dubbi acconciamente.     «Tutto-insieme , il reale nella «totalità e unità delle sue determinazioni. Ho preferito conservare il termine molto espressivo di A. Si potrebbe, sì,  tradurre «concreto , ma questo ha un significato troppo ristretto alla sua opposizione all’« astratto .   (8) Principii logico-formali e principii materiali. L'enunciazione è generica.  ma è ovvio che A. ha in vista, qui e altrove, le concezioni più determinate che  di questi principii avevano avuto i filosofi di cui ha parlato nel lib. I.   (9) Cfr. lib. I, cap. 5, 8 22.    Cfr. qui 4, 93: chè, altrimenti, è un po' difficile interidere l’Amicizia  empedoclea come sostrato. Cominciamo di dove si prese le mosse: se appartenga a  una sola scienza, o a più, studiare tutti i generi delle cause.   Ora, come mai apparterrebbe ad una sola scienza di conoscere principii che non sono contrari? E poi, tra gli enti  ce ne sono molti, ai quali non tutti i principii convengono (').  Infatti, come potrebbero il principio del movimento e la natura del bene riguardare gli esseri immobili, se tutto quel  che è buono per sè e per propria natura, è fine, e però causa,  sì che per cagion sua le altre cose e si generano ed esistono?  Il fine e lo scopo sono termine di qualche azione, c le azioni  sono tutte con movimento; laonde negli esseri immobili non  può darsi questo principio del movimento; nè quello di un  bene per sè. Appunto per ciò nelle matematiche non si dimostra nulla mediante questa causa, nè c’è nessuna dimostrazione finchè s’adduce che così è meglio o peggio: anzi addirittura nessuno fa menzione di simili cose. Tanto che alcuni  Sofisti, per es. Aristippo , le coprivano di disprezzo, perchè,  dicevano, mentre nelle altre arti, anche volgari, come quella  del falegname e del calzolaio, di ogni cosa si discorre in ragione del meglio o del peggio, nelle matematiche invece nessuno fa parola del bene e del male.   D'altra parte, se sono parecchie le scienze delle cause e  diverse quelle di principii diversi: quale di esse si dovrà (Questione 18)  Ossia: a) ogni scienza è di contrari (vero-falso, bene-.  male, sano-malato, ecc.); ma le quattro specie di causalità non costituiscono con-'    trarietà (i contrari, propriamente, per A., son quelli che implicano un sostfato  che li comprende entranbi), La materia, ad es., non è un contrario della forma  (efr. XII, 10, 6). ) I generi delle cose sono, per A., diversi, e però di essi non  e’ è un’unica scienza (il genere della fisica è diverso da quello della matematica). E tuttavia in tutti si può considerare, come fa la metafisica, l'essere  semplicemente, in quanto essere. Questo solo è un oggetto universale assolutamente. Ma, non essendo ancora stata spiegata questa universalità, vien sottinteso  un conc etto affine: che i generi di causalità studiati da quell’unica scienza dovrebbero valere per ogni essere.    Aristippo seguì Protagora nella dottrina della conoscenza. Molti dei socratici minori proseguono ancora il movimento dei Sofisti. dire che è quella di cui noi andiamo in cerca? e chi, tra  coloro che le posseggono, si dovrà dire che conosce meglio  l'oggetto delle nostre ricerche? Poichè può ben avvenire che  nella considerazione di una stessa cosa trovino luogo tutti i  modi della causalità: per una casa, ad es., l’arte e l’architetto sono principio del movimento, l’utilità è lo scopo, la  terra e le pietre sono la materia, la nozione è la forma (').  Ora, stando a quanto fu da noi precedentemente determinato (?)  intorno a quale tra le scienze si dovesse chiamare sapienza,  si avrebbe ragione di chiamar tale ciascuna di quelle (*).   Infatti, in quanto è principalissima e la più alta signora  delle altre scienze, le quali, quasi serve sue, non hanno diritto neppure di far obiezioni, tale è quella del fine e del  bene (chè per questo si fa tutto il resto). Invece, in quanto  fu stabilito che fosse la scienza delle cause prime e di ciò  che è massimamente conoscibile, tale sarà quella della sostanza (*). Poichè, quando una stessa cosa è nota in molteplici  modi, noi diciamo che ne sa più chi la conosce per quello  che è, piuttosto che per quello che non è; e di quelli stessi  che ne conoscono l’essere, diciamo che uno ne sa più di un  altro, e più di tutti chi sa l’essenza, non chi ne sa la quantità o la qualità (*), o quel che naturalmente può fare o patire. E come nelle altre cose, così anche in quelle di cui c’è  dimostrazione, allora noi reputiamo di sapere, quando conosciamo l’essenza. Per es.: che cosa è ridurre a quadrato?  La scoperta d’una media (°). E similmente negli altri casi.     Traduco elBos con « forma quando la specie è contrapposta alla materia.    Nel lib. I. 2.    Ciascuna di quelle scienze che riguardano una delle quattro cause.    Sostanza è la categoria principale dell'essere, l'essenza concreta (non  fuori della materia). Paiono, così, ricordate qui soltanto tre delle quattro specie  di cause, perché la materia, osservano giustamente i commentatori, non è oggetto  di conoscenza: salvo, si può aggiungere, in quanto è compresa nel concetto della  sostanza.   (5) A. dice qui, o spesso, «il quanto , «Il quale (nel senso del nostro pluale: «le qualità  di una cosa).   (6) La media proporzionale ai lati di un’altra figura. Pare che con «le cose  di cui c'è dimostrazione  si vogliano distinguere i due tipi di conoscenza: l’uno,  immediato, l’altro mediato. Nel qual caso sarebbe meglio tradurre: « E nelle  Invece, le generazioni e le azioni, ed ogni mutazione, ci  pare di conoscerle quando ne sappiamo il principio del movimento. Ma questo è diverso dal fine, anzi opposto. Di maniecra che parrebbe appartenere ad una scienza diversa lo  studio di ciascuna di queste cause (').   Anche per i principii delle dimostrazioni c’è da star in  dubbio se appartengono a una scienza sola o a più. E chiamo  principii delle dimostrazioni quelle comuni sentenze (°), da  cui tutti muovono a dimostrare, per es., che ogni cosa è  necessità affermarla o negarla, e che è impossibile insieme  essere e non essere, e quante altre proposizioni sono simili  a queste. Si chiede se la scienza di essi e quella dell'essenza  è una stessa, o se son diverse; e se diverse, quale bisugna  riconoscere per quella che si cerca qui.   Intanto, che appartengano a una scienza soltanto, non  pare ragionevole. Perchè mai sarebbe proprio, poniamo, della  geometria piuttosto che di qualunque altra scienza intendersi  di essi? Se, dunque, spetta del pari a ciascuna, e d'altronde  a tutte quante non può spettare (*), non è più proprio della  scienza che conosce le sostanze, che di qualunque altra,  averne cognizione.    altre cose, in quelle di cui c'è dimostrazione , c considerare, così, come cpesogetico il secondo «at della 1, 19. Ma forse la distinzione non è voluta, e il senso  è che l’ossenza ci fn conoscer le cose meglio dello loro qualità accidentali, così  come si vele anche nella conoscenza propriamente sclentifica di esse.    Alesa. inserisce un otx innanzi a &XXmg, € il ragionamento, allora, sarebbe:  «Ne si pongono scienze diverse per ognuna delle apecie di causalità, non s! saprà  più qualo chiamare Rapionza; quindi di ciascuna di esso non c’è una scienza diversa . Ma non pare necessario alterare il testo: A. non pretende In questo libro  a una trattazione rigorosa delle questioni, por tesi e antitesi ben definite; ma  pone innanzi dubbi e pensieri discordanti. Qui,ad es., dice che se la causa efficiente e la finale sono diverse, anzi opposte (cfr. I. 3, 6), auche le scienze di esse  dovrebbero esser diverse, La questione è ripresa, sebbene non in questa forma,  e risolta in lib, IV. 1-2.    (Quertione 2*) xotval Béear, ma «opinioni comuni ben fondate, generalmente ammesse (cfr. tò EvBofov, il probabile da cui muovo la dialettica delle  opinioni). A. le chiama anche « principii comuni , « principii apodittici (&gxal  Uroberntixal), «assioni comuni, o semplicemente « assiomi (&Ebpara) o «comuni  (tà xotvd),    « Quia sic sequeretur quod idem tractaretur in diversis scientiis, quod  esset superfluum. E insieme, come s'avrà mai una scienza di essi? Quel  che sia ciascuno, lo sappiamo sin d’ora: tanto è vero, che  anche le scienze pratiche (') se ne servono come di principii  noti. Ma se ci fosse una scienza che li dimostrasse, hisognerebbe che avesse per soggetto un qualche genere; e che di  quelli alcuni fossero sue affezioni; altri, assiomi (poichè è  impossibile che ci sia dimostrazione di tutto): infatti, la dimostrazione, di necessità, è da qualcosa, intorno a qualcosa, e  di qualcosa (?); sì che accadrebbe che, servendosi di assiomi  ogni scienza dimostrativa, tutte le cose che si d imostrano  apparterrebbero a un unico genere.   Dall’altra parte, se la scienza dell’essenza è diversa da  quella di codesti principii, quale delle due deve precedere     Il testo dico le altre arti: intendo le scienze non apodittiche, quelle che  nel lib. I. 1, son considerate anche come téyvat.    In ogni dimostrazione o scienza apodittica sono tre cose: seo 5 te Belxvuor  sal & Seixvuor xaì E &v (Anal. Post., I. 10. 76b, 21). Ossia: l'oggetto, il genere  di enti, «intorno a cui versa (per es. il numero, per l’aritmetica); l’assioma, o  gli assiomi « da cui trae forza l’argomentazione (per es., che tutti i numeri derivano dall'unità; ovvero, che le unità non cambiano comunque si raggruppino;ecc.);  le affezioni o proprietà « di cuì  si dimostra o sì mostra che l’osgetto è investito, e qui propriamente consiste il lavoro scientifico (per es., cho ogni numero  è o dispari o pari; che cambiando posto agli addendi, il totale non muta; ecc.).   Per l’argomentazione complessiva, più chiaro di tutti il Ross. Se gli assiomi  sono dimostrabili, di questi alcuni debbono esser provati, altri accettati come  assiomi non provati (per cul la supposizione che gli assiomi siano dimostrabili,  va corretta in questa: che alcuni di essi sono dimostrabili per mezzo di altri  îndimostrabili). Ora, tutte le scienze dimostrative usano gli assiomi come loro  premesse, e le loro conchiusioni appartengono allo stesso genore delle premesse  (questo non è detto, ma evidentemente sottinteso). Quindi, se gli assiomi sono  dimostrabili, tutto ciò che si può dimostrare appartiene a un unico genere, e tutte  le scienze diventano un’unica scienza: ch'è per A. una reductio ad absurdum.   Si noti che A. trascura qui due punti: 1. Che c'è una terza via in cui può  esserci una scienza degli assiomi: quella iudicata nel lib. IV, per cui essi non  vengono nè definiti nè dimostrati, ma raccomandati al senso comune col mostrare  le conseguenze assurde a cui conduce la loro negazione; 2. A. qui non distingue  tra i principii propri e quelli comuni: ogni scienze deve avere principii riguardanti lo stesso genere di cui trattano le sue conchiusioni, ma essa ha unche principii comuni a tutte le sclenze, (Questi stanno a quelli come l’essere in generale  ai generi reali delle cose, i quali non possono esser, per A., assorbiti in quello  senza disperdere la distinzione necessaria alle scienze: ne verrebbe fuori un'unica  scienza, quella dell'essere nella sua indistinzione, ch'è un concutto contro il quale  A. combatte ripetutamente). ed è superiore per natura? Gli assiomi, di certo, sono gli  universali supremi e i principii di tutto. E se non spetta al  filosofo, a chi mai altro spetterà di studiarne il vero e il falso?   Poi, per le sostanze, c’è una sola scienza di tutte in generale, o più? E se non è una sola, di quale sostanza si  deve stabilire che è scienza, questa nostra? Che ce ne sia  una sola di tutte, non pare ragionevole, perchè, allora, ci  sarebbe anche una sola scienza dimostrativa di tutti gli accidenti, una volta che ogni scienza dimostrativa, versando intorno a un sostrato, ne studia gli accidenti essenziali movendo dalle opinioni comuni. In quanto, dunque, spetta a  una stessa scienza studiare gli accidenti per sè di uno stesso  genere e dalle stesse opinioni,  e poichè sarebbe una sola  la scienza del sostrato, e una sola quella degli assiomi (siano  poi la stessa o diverse),  anche gli accidenti li studieranno  o quelle due scienze, o una che le comprenda entrambe (‘).   Ancora, lo studio verserà soltanto intorno alle sostanze,  o anche intorno ai loro accidenti? Voglio dire: se il solido  e le linee e le superfici sono sostanze (*), spetterà a una  stessa scienza conoscere queste cose e insieme gli accidenti  di ciascun genere di cui trattano le dimostrazioni matematiche,  ovvero a un’altra? Se a una stessa, ci sarebbe una  scienza dimostrativa anche della sostanza: ma non pare che     (Questione 3*) Nella questione presente, e in quella che segue, vengon prospettnte tre ipotesi: che ci sia una scienza unica degli assiomi, una scienza  unica delle sostanze, e una sclenza unica degli accidenti (i tre termini intorno  al quali versa ‘ogni scienza apodittica). Viene, naturalmente, lasciato in sospeso  non soltanto l’esistonza di queste tre presunte scienze, ma anche Il loro rapporto:  sé sarebbero, In realtà, tre scienze distinte, due, o una soltanto.  Le ultime parole, èx tovtwy pla, è dubbio come si debbano tradurre. Il Bonitz (a q. 1.) interpreta: «sive haoc sclentia suspensa nb illis eademque ab illis diversa, at una  tamen est. Il Ross: «one compounded out of these . Il pensiero sottinteso è  che, per tali ipotesi, tra gli accidenti non sì può far distinzione, quanto alla  scienza che li deve studiare: onde si distruggerebbe, da capo, ogni criterio di  distinzione delle scienze particolari. Per le questioni 3* e 42, v. lib. IV. 2 (per la  9, anche VI. 1).    (Questione 4*) Quelle della matematica sono «sostanze intelligibili .  Ma qui (come spesso) « sostanze  vale semplicemente « esseri reali , 0 « realmente  esistenti. dell'essenza ci sia dimostrazione('). Se a una scienza diversa, quale sarà quella che studia gli accidenti che riguardano la sostanza? Dar conto di ciò è ben difficile.   Un’altra questione è questa: si deve dire che esistono le  sole sostanze sensibili, o anche altre oltre di esse?.e di generi di sostanze ce n’è uno solo;  o più, come dicono quei  che pongono le specie e gl’intermedi, di cui, secondo essi,  trattano le matematiche?   In qual senso noi diciamo (*) che le specie sono causa e  sostanze per sè, s'è discorso precedentemente, Tra le difficoltà e gl’inconvenienti molteplici, non è minore degli altri  quello di affermare, da un lato, che ci sono certe nature al  di là di questo mondo; e dall’altro, che esse sono le stesse  delle sensibili, tranne che quelle sono eterne, e queste corruttibili. Essi dicono che esiste l’uomo in sè, il cavallo in sè,  la salute in sè, sì che par non ci sia altra differenza (*). Essi  fanno press’a poco come quelli che van dicendo che ci sono,  sì, gli dei, ma simili agli uomini : come costoro non riescono ad altro che a far degli uomini eterni, così quelli non  fanno delle specie altro che sensibili eterni.   Parimenti, se alcuno oltre la specie e oltre i sensibili  vorrà porre degl’intermedi, si avranno molte difficoltà. Poichè è chiaro che, come ci saranno delle linee oltre le linee  in sè e le linee sensibili, così per ciascuna cosa degli altri  generi: di maniera che, essendo l’astronomia una scienza  pure matematica, ci sarà un cielo oltre quello sensibile, con  un sole e una luna, e così di tutto il resto che al cielo ap   L'essenza del triangolo non si dimostra. Si dofinisce. SI dimostra, invece,  che la somma degli angoli suoi è di due retti.    (Questione 5%) Noi della scuola di Platone. Cfr. lib. LT. 9, 2.    Non che le Idee fossero sensibili, ma la natura loro, per quanto univerralizzata e sottratta al flusso del diveniro, era quella stessa delle cose sensibili :  donde quel raddoppiamento della realtà, di cui si parlò in I. 9, 1. (In A. la forma  non riproduce, immediatamento, il contenuto, ma Jo media in un processo, sì che  esso diventa un momento, quello potenziale, della forma stessa).    Nella seconda parte del lib. XII A. espone il suo concetto della divinità    ‘come puro pensiero (Dio e le Intelligenze motrici: queste sono «sostanze non    sensibili od esistenti separatamente). partiene. Eppure, come crederci? Poichè esso non si dovrebbe dire che è immobile; d’altronde, non è affatto possibile che si muova ('). Parimenti per le cose di cui. tratta  l'ottica e l’armonica matematica: è impossibile che di esse  ce ne siano altre oltre quelle sensibili, per gli stessi motivi.  Che se gl’intermedi fossero sensibili, e di essi ci fosse sensazione, è evidente che dovrebbero esserci anche degli animali intermedi tra quelli in sè e quelli che periscono (?).   Ci sarebbe anche imbarazzo a stabilire di quali enti si  danno questi intermedi intorno (*) ai quali converrebbe cercare queste scienze. Poichè, se la geometria differisse dalla  geodesia soltanto perchè questa è di cose sensibili e quella  no, è evidente che dovrà esserci una scienza intermedia tra  la medicina in sè e la medicina attuale; e come per la medicina, così per ogni altra scienza. Ma, come questo è possibile? Ci dovrebbero essere anche delle cose salubri oltre  quelle sensibili e ciò che è salubre in sè.   E bada che nonè neppur vero che la geodesia sia scienza  di grandezze sensibili e corruttibili: chè, perendo queste,  anch’essa perirebbe.     Come «cielo, parimenti a quello che si vede, dovrebbe muoversi; ma,  essendo matematico, dovrebbe, così come gli oggetti della geometria, esser immobile. l'Armonica come scienza di rapporti quantitativi dei suoni, non come  musica, era considerata come matematica anch'essa. Ricorda le speculazioni pitagoriche, che «nei numeri vedevano le proprietà e ragioni dell'armonia  e dell'ordinamento dei cieli: I. 5, 3-5.    «Si (ista) sensibilia sint intermedia, sc. soni et visibilia, sequetur etiam  quod sensus sunt intermedii. Et cum sensus non sint nisì in animali, sequetur  quod etiam animalia sint intermedia inter species et corruptibilia, quod est omnino  absurdumn : S. Tom. ($ 419). Così anche Aless, (198, -28).    Leggo xegt, non ragd: v. giusta osservazione del BonuHI [Metafisica di A.,  l'orino, 1854}, p. 139 F. Per il senso, tieni presente che per A. anche le matematiche, come le scienze fisiche, riguardano il mondo sensibile; e la differenza è  che quelle nstraggono dalla materia e dallo qualità, per considerare la sola  quantità e i rapporti quantitativi delle cose; le scienze fisiche, invece, pur  astraendo dalle particolarità delle cose singole, considerano la forma o le forme  in quanto sono unite alla materia. I Platonici non partivano da questo doppio  modo di considerare la stessa realtà, matematicamente o fisicamente; e però A.  dice che, come per spiegare il carattere scientifico delle matematiche ricorrevano a questi enti intermedi tra le idee e i sensibili, così essi avrebbero dovuto,  coerentemente, porre tali intermedi anche per le altre scienze. D'altra parte, l'astronomia non può essere scienza di grandezze sensibili e del cielo che si vede: poichè, nè le linee  sensibili sono tali, quali dice il geometra (') (non c’è nessuna  cosa sensibile retta o rotonda a quella maniera: chè, come  già Protagora obiettava ai geometri, il cerchio non tocca la  riga in un punto solo), nè i movimenti e le spirali sono simili  a quelli del cielo, dei quali discorre l’astronomia, nè i punti  hanno la stessa natura degli astri.   Ci sono, infine, alcuni (?), i quali dicono che ci sono, sì,  questi intermedi tra le specie e i sensibili, ma pon separati  da questi, anzi ad essi immanenti. A scorrere tutte le conchiusioni assurde che vengon fuori a costoro, ci vorrebbe un  lungo discorso. Contentiamoci di queste considerazioni: le  cose non è ragionevole che stiano così per quegl’intermedi  soltanto, ma anche le specie, evidentemente, dovrebbero esser  immanenti ai sensibili: chè le stesse ragioni sono qui e là.  Aggiungi che ci sarebbero in questo modo, di necessità, due  solidi nello stesso luogo; e che gl’intermedi non potrebbero  esser immobili, essendo dentro ai sensibili che sono in moto.  E insomma, a che scopo si dovrebbero porre queste entità,  quando poi si debbono porre dentro ai sensibili? Si cadrà  negli stessi assurdi di cui già si discorse: ci sarà un cielo  oltre al cielo, salvo che non separato, bensì nello stesso luogo:  la qual cosa, se così si può dire, è ancora più impossibile.    t     Alessandro (200, 11): « A. disso il geometra invece dell’astronomo : intende, cioè, della geometria di cui fa uso l'astronomia. Protagora moveva, nella  obiezione che segue, dalla sua dottrina sensistica. Pare ch’egli scrivesse un  libro segì tov pa&nuicov (Diog. Laert., IX, 55).    Platonici anch'essi: v. XIII. 1, 7 e 2, 1 ss. (MA in XIV. 3, 3-4 quest’opinione par attribuita ai Pitagorici). Cfr. Zeller, II4, 1009-4. Lo Schwegler suppone  che si tratti di E1dosso, e cita il lib. I. 9, 11: ma ivi si dice che Eudosso poneva  le Idee immanenti alle cose. La presente questione è discussa ampiamente nei  due ultimi libri. Intorno a queste cose, dunque, ci sono molti dubbi, come  dobbiamo giudicarne per cogliere la verità. Così pure intorno  ai principii: dobbiamo ritenere che i principii elementari  siano i generi, o piuttosto i componenti primi da cui risulta  costituita ciascuna cosa? Elementi, per es., e principii della  voce sembrano essere quelli da cui tutte le voci son composte per natura: non quel ch'è comune a tutte, l’esser voce.  Anche delle proposizioni geometriche diciamo elementari  quelle le cui dimostrazioni entrano nelle dimostrazioni o di  tutte le proposizioni o della maggior parte ('). E nei corpi,  tanto coloro che dicono che gli elementi di essi sono più,  quanto coloro che ne pongono uno solo, chiamano principii  ciò di cui essi si compongono e da cui son costituiti: Empedocle, per citarne uno, dice che il fuoco l’acqua e i loro  intermedi (*) sono gli elementi da cui risultano le cose intrinsecamente, e non ne parla già come di generi degli enti.  Oltre di che, se qualcuno vuole indagare la natura di una  cosa qualsiasi, di un letto, per esempio, allora è pago di    conoscere, quando sa di che parti consti e come composte.    Per queste ragioni, dunque, non dovrebbero esser i generi  i principii degli enti.   Eppure, in quanto noi conosciamo ciascuna cosa per mezzo  delle definizioni, e poichè principii delle definizioni sono i  generi, di necessità anche dei definiti saranno principii i ge      (Questione 6*) Cfr. gli Elementi di geometria di Euclide (fiorito  circa 300); 6 anche prima, al tempo di A., si chiamavano così . Il termine, tuttavia, è usato da A. per « proposizioni elementari anche fuori della geometria:  v. Index Arist., 702 b, 59 88.  Proposizioni: &eyoGppara, prop. « figure , ma, come  notano Asclepio (174, 9) e Bonitz, vale qui «proposizioni , « teoremi .    tà usetatò tovtov; leggendo, invece, t. petà t.: «e seguenti, Il Ross  osserva in proposito: « Empedocle non sembra aver trattato l’aria e la terra  come intermedi tra il fuoco e l’acqua: anzi egli oppose il fuoco a tutti gli altri  elementi (cfr. lib. I. 4, 9). Ma A., per il quale il fuoco è caldo e asciutto, l’acqua  fredda e umida, può naturalmente aver trattato l’aria (calda e umida) e la terra  (fredda e asciutta) come fornite di differenze intermedie (sebbene si possa dire  altrettanto del fuoco e dell’acqua in rispetto all'aria e alla terra),  neri. E se acquistare la scienza degli enti è acquistare quella  delle specie alle quali ci riferiamo quando parliamo degli  enti, i generi, di certo, sono i principii delle specie. Sembra  che anche alcuni (‘') di coloro che pongono quali elementi  Uno e l’Ente, o il grande e il piccolo, se ne servano come  di generi.   D'altronde, dire che i principii sono in entrambi i modi,  non è possibile: perchè il concetto della sostanza è unico:  invece, la definizione per mezzo dei generi sarebbe diversa  da quella che ne dicesse gli elementi costitutivi.   Inoltre, se anche spetta soprattutto ai generi di esser  principii, bisogna poi ritenere per principii i generi sommi,  o quelli infimi che si predicano degl’individui (*)? Anche  questo è da discutere.   Se, difatti, gli universali sono sempre a maggior diritto  principii, è evidente che tali saranno i generi che stanno più  in su: chè questi si dicono di tutti. Tanti, allora, saranno i  principii degli esseri, quanti i primi generi. Vien di conseguenza che principii sostanziali sarebbero l’Ente e l’Uno,  perchè essi, più che alcun altro genere, si dicono di tutti  gli esseri. Invece, non è possibile che l’Uno e l’Ente siano  generi degli esseri: poichè è necessario che le differenze di  ciascun genere e siano e siano una ciascuna; ora non può     Pitagorici e Platonici. Le questioni 6° e 72 vengon riprese vel lib. VII.  10-13, da un altro punto di vista (del rapporto concreto di materia e forma): se,  cioò, gli elementi materiali entrino nella detinizione di una cosa, e se gli universali (generic! o specifici) costituiscano la sostanza.    (Questione 7%)Si bndi che con tà Aropa A, designa tanto « gl'individui , le cose singolari; quanto «le specie indivisibili , le specie propr. dette,  in quanto « generi prossimi all'individuo . Un terzo significato è quello puramente  fisico-matematico, riguardante ad es. l'atomo propr. detto o il punto. V. Znder  Arist. Prescindendo da questo terzo, puramente materiale, si potrebbe dire che il  primo è piuttosto logico-reale; il secondo reale-logico: nel senso del determinarsi  tlel pensiero, nel giudizio, come pensamento dell'individuo concreto, ovvero come  sua universalizzazione. Per A., infatti, il processo del pensiero deve corrispondere  a quello del reale. Vi corrisponde, in effetto? Si sa che A. non riesco nd assorbire  interamente la materia nel processo accennato, sì ch’essa resta come un « caput  mortuum , che fa ostacolo alla piena intelligibilità delle cose. Di qui la verata  quasestio del « principium individuationis , e le controversie medievali su la realtà  dell'universale, dei generi e delle specie.    c.    L}BRO TERZO 79    concedersi che delle proprie differenze si predichino o le  specie ‘del genere o il genere senza le sue specie: così che,  se l’Uno e l'Ente fossero generi, nessuna differenza dovrebbe  essere nè ente nè una. E se d’altra parte non sono generi,  non saranno neppur principii, una volta che principii sono  i generi (*).   Di più, anche ciò che tramezza fra i sommi e gl’infimi  generi, preso insieme con le differenze, formerebbe una serie  di generi, fino al punto che è possibile dividere (*): ora, per        Più breve e chiara In nota del RoLFES (A.' Metaphysil, 2 ediz. 1931, presso  il Meiner di Lipsia) a q. l.: « Prendinmo un esempio, Il genere nnimale sl divide  in duo specie: uomo e bruto. La differenza specifica è ragionevole e irragionevole.  Ora, io non posso dire: il ragionevole è uomo: perchè ragionevole ha un’'estensione maggiore di uomo. Ma neppure: il ragionevolo è animale: perchò il concetto  di ragionevole non ha che vedere con quello di animale. Invece, io posso e debbo  dire: Il ragionevole è ente, è uno. Quindi ente e uno non possono esser un genere,  al quale ragionevole è irragionevole si riferiscano come difl'erenze specifiche .   Una dimostrazione dal punto di vista logico-ustratto sl può avere dai Topic/.  VI. 6. 144 a, 36-Db, 11. Ma più interessante a notare è che qui si considernuo le difforenze specifiche come forme o concetti che, mentre rendono intelligibile la realtà  al pensiero, la «determinano, ingieme, come un processo di generi-specie, Sì che  non questi generi-specie renli si predicano (si pensano come predicati determinanti) delle difforenze, ma queste di quelli (nel processo dol peuslero, onde la  razionalità si predica dell'animale come niteriore determinazione di questo nell’uomo). Le differenze, qui, sono come i concetti puri che noi moderni distinguiamo  da quelli empirici. O, meglio, come le idee platoniche, fatte tuttavia immanenti  nl reale e organizzate nel suo svolgimento. S' intende, orn, che l’essere e l’unità  indifferenziata, non facendo pensar nulla di determinato, non possano esser principiî, nè nol senso delle ditforenzo, nè in quello dei goneri-spocie reali. IL tuttavia, se si va cal criteria «dell’universalità, esst dovrebbero esser principi  più che mai.    héxet TtOv dtépov: alcuni intendono «sino nile specie ultime , altri « sino  agli individui : in entrambi i casi non senza inconvenienti, perchè nel primo caso  l'individuo vien escluso dal processo del reale; nel secondo, vien trattato come  punto finale di una serie di generi. Meglio, in ogni modo, la prima interprotazione in questo Inogo, e però ad essa ho intonato la traduzione, nllargando un  po’ il testo. Il quale, letteralmente, dice: « Inoltre nnche gl’intermedi, presi con  le differenze, saranno generi sino agl'indivisibili: ora, alcuni par di sì, altri no .  Cfr. la buona nota del Bonghi a q. I., conforme del rosto nd Alessandro (207, 17) e n  Siriano (33, 8), i quali fauno osservare che, seguendo il metodo platonico dotla divisione contradittorin, i concetti negativi (auimali-senza piedi) e quelli indicanti  qualità accidentali (animali con i piedi) non fondano generi reali. lL’argomentazione, in questo modo, sembrerebbe «diretta contro il metodo platonico della divisione. Ma, in realtà, il pensiero prevalente è che, piuttosto che porre l’Uno è  l'Ente come principio, si dovrebbero porre infiniti principii, se priucipii sono i  generi, e generi son tutti quelli superiori all'individuo. Questo pensiero, a sua    80 METAFISICA    alcune divisioni partebbe doversi concedere, per altre no.  Aggiurigi che le differenze sarebbero principii ancora più  che non i generi: ma, se anch’esse sono principii, i principii diventano, per così dire, infiniti, soprattutto se uno  ponga per principio il primo genere (').   D’altra parte, si ponga pure che l’Uno ha maggiormente  carattere di principio. Ma l’Uno è indivisibile, e ogni indivisibile è tale 0 secondo la quantità o secondo la specie:  quello secondo specie è anteriore; ora i generi sono divisibili in specie; dunque maggiormente uno dovrebbe essere  l’ultimo predicato: di fatto l’ «uomo non è genere degli  uomini singoli (?).   Di più, nelle cose in cui c’è priorità e posteriorità, non  è possibile che quel che han di comune sia qualcosa fuori  di esse. Per es., se tra i numeri vien prima la dualità, non  può esserci un numero oltre la specie dei numeri. E similmente, non si dà figura oltre le specie delle figure. E se per  queste cose, di cui par ci siano generi più che mai, non ci  son generi fuori delle specie, tanto meno per le altre: nelle       volta, non sembra diretto immediatamente alla questione se principii son piuttosto i generi sommi o gl’infimi. Il pensiero nascosto sembra, invece, che i generi  non sono affatto principii.    Il primo genere è l’essere (o l’ Uno), che, per A., non è genero (in «rerum  natura ci 6ono i generi, in cui si divide l'unità astratta dell’essere, come di un  mero xovw6v). Per il senso, meglio di tutti, mi pare, S. Tom. (8 485): «Si prima  genera sunt principia, quia sunt principia cognitionis epecierum, multo magis  differentiae sunt principia formalia specierum. Forma autem et actus est maxime  priocipium cognoscendi. Sed differentias esse principia rerum est inconveniens:  quia, secundum hoc, erunt quasi infinita principia. Sunt, enim, ut ita dicatur,  infinitae rerum differentiae, non quidem infinitae secundum rerum naturam, sed  quoad nos. Et quod sint infinitae patet dupliciter, uno modo si quis consideret  multitudinem ipsarum differentiarum secundum se, alio modo si quis accipiat  primum genus quasi primum principium. Manifestum, enim, est quod sub eo continentur innumerabiles differentiae . i   (3: L'uomo, specie ultima, non è ulteriormente divisibile, perchè i singoli  momini (criterio quantitativo) non rappresentano una divisione de! concetto. L'anteriorità del criterio qualitativo, qui, è superiorità dal punto di vista concettuale.  Il che non toglie che altrove A., contro l’unità meramente generica del concetto,  non faccia valere come superiore all’Ev tò elber l'Ev td dortuò, in quanto sintesi  del qualitativo e del quantitativo, nell'individuo che realizza la specie. Cfr. lib. V.  6, 15; e VII. 6. (In Dio, ch'è puro atto di pensiero, la coincidenza dei due punti di  vista, dell'essenza e dell’esistenza, è perfetta). V. note segg. a 4, 16, ed a 6, 1-5. indivisibili specie, poi, non c’è «questo vien prima  e «questo vien dopo . Anche: dovunque c'è un «questo è meglio   e «questo è peggio , il meglio ha sempre la priorità: così  che neanche di queste cose ci sarà un genere (‘).   Per queste ragioni, dunque, pare che le specie che si  predicano degli individui siano principii a maggior diritto  che non i generi. Eppure, da capo, non è facile dire come  si debbano ammettere queste per principii. Il principio e la  causa bisogna che siano al di là delle cose di cui son principii, e ne possano star separati (*). Ora, una simil cosa al  di là del singolare, perchè mai uno la penserebbe, se non  perchè si predica in universale e di tutti? Ma, se per questo,  i più universali più si debbono reputare principii: di maniera che sarebbero principii i primi generi.     Passo controverso: cfr. Zeller, pp. 568 ss. del vol. cit. (Platone) e commentatori posteriori che in parte concordano, in parte discordano da lui. Rifacendomi alla concezione intera di A., intendo così: dove c'è un processo di  svolgimento, il principio appare in tutta la sua evidenza nell’ultimo termine, o  in ogni punto del processo dove esso mette capo a una realtà «determinata.  Il genere, che è un comune astratto o un indeterminato, non può valere, quindi,  come principio. Si prenda, ad es., la serie dei numeri o delle figure geometriche,  pensandola come sviluppo concettuale: numero e figura che non siano un determinato numero o figura sono astratti. E il numero e In figura che vengon dopo,  in quanto implicano il numoro o la figura precedente, rivelano ancor meglio il  concetto (îl tre meglio del due, il quadrato meglio del triangolo). E nei numeri  e nelle figure il processo dei generi è infinito? Che se consideriamo le altre cose,  dove pare lo svolgimento non aver luogo (le specie indivisibili), perchè di generi  diversi (uomo, albero, ecc.), o coordinati in uno stesso genere (uomo, bruto, ecc.),  tanto più per esse è chiaro che il genere non esiste fuori delle specie concrete.  Che se anche in queste si vuo! guardare al processo teleologico, come svolgimento  in perfezione dell’essere (il bene), e si dirà che il bruto vale più dell’albero,  l’uomo più del bruto (il meglio o il peggio), varrà anche per esse ‘la considerazione precedente. Cfr. Eth. Eud., I. 8. 1318 a, 2: «In tutte quelle cose in cui ha  luogo il prima e il dopo, non esiste qualcosa di comune oltre di esse, e che sia  da esse separabile. Infatti, se esistesse, sarebbe qualcosa di anteriore al primo  termine: e sarebbe anteriore, il comune e separabile, per questo, che, tolto esso,  verrebbe tolto il primo termine. Per es.: se l'esser doppio è il primo termine dei  molteplici, non può darsi che esista separatamente l'essere molteplice, che è ciò  che di essi si predica in comune: poichè sarebbe, allora, prima del doppio. E così  dovrebbe accadere, se il comune gi vuol porre come idea, ovvero se del comune  si vuol far qualcosa di separato ,   Con la interpretazione proposta circa le «specie indivisibili  si evita la contraddizione che il Ross rimprovera ad A. di ammettere un universale ragù calura.    Come il Motore Immoto e le Intelligenze motrici di A. Una questione affine a queste ('), la più difficile di tutte  e pure la più necessaria a meditare, è quella di cui è venuto  il momento ora di ragionare.   Se non c’è niente fuori dei singoli esseri, e questi sono  infiniti, come mai di esseri infiniti si può acquistare scienza?  Di fatto, intanto conosciamo ogni cosa, in quanto c’è qualcosa di unico e identico, in quanto c’è qualcosa d’universale.  Ma, allora, se ciò è necessario, e se bisogna che ci sia qualcosa oltre gli esseri singoli, bisognerà che i generi, o gli  ultimi o i primi, siano fuori dei singoli: il che s’è questionato dianzi che è impossibile.   Di più, dato che esista qualcosa oltre il sinolo, quando  qualcosa vien predicato della materia (*°),  si domanda se,  dato che esista, esso debba esser fuori di tutte le cose, o di  alcune sì e di alcune no, o di nessuna.   Che se non ci fosse niente fuori dei singolari, niente sarebbe intelligibile, ma sarebbe meramente sensibile ogni cosa  e non ci sarebbe scienza di nulla: a meno che uno non dica  che scienza è la sensazione (*). E neanche ci sarà nulla di  eterno e immobile: poichè le cose sensibili tutte s! corrompono e sono in movimento (‘). Ma, allora, se niente c’è di  eterno, neppure è possibile che ciì sia il divenire, perchè quel  che diviene ha da essere qualcosa, e così anche quel da cui  viene, e l’ultimo di questi termini più non deve essere generato: chè una fermata ci vuole, ed è impossibile che il  divenire venga dal non-essere. Così, essendoci generazione e     (Questione 8*) Ripresa, infatti, in lib, VII. 93. 7-9. 17; VIIL A. 6.    La forma sostanziale, l’anima, ad es., la quale, appunto, è principio determinante, o categorico, del corpo vivente.    Così Protagora nel Teeteto. Qui la questione s'incontra con la 5*, la quale,  tuttavia, fu trattata piuttosto storicamente e criticgmente, che in via teoretica e    . costruttiva.     I cieli sono sensibili, ma ‘eterni, sebbene in movimento. A., tuttavia, qui  parla degl'individui soggetti al processo di generazione-corruzione,    (da |    e.  movimento, c'è di necessità anche’ un limite; poichè nè c’è  movimento che non abbia fine, ma ognuno ha un termine (');  nè è possibile che divenga quel che non perviene mai ad  essere: di necessità, tosto che il suo divenire si compie, ogni  cosa, divenuta, è. E se la materia deve esistere, appunto perchè non soggetta al divenire, sarà molto più ancora ragionevole che ci debba essere la sostanza, che è ciò che la  materia diviene. Altrimenti, se nè quella nè questa ci fossero,  non ci sarebbe proprio niente del tutto. Questo non è ammissibile; deve, dunque, esistere qualcosa oltre il sinolo: la  forma e la specie.   Ma, di nuovo, se si ammetterà. questo, sorgerà il dubbio  per quali cose si debba ammettere, e per quali no. Di tutte  è evidente che non si può: di certo, non ammetteremo che  ci sia una qualche casa (*) fuori delle cose particolari.   Inoltre, la sostanza sarà unica per tutti: ad es. per tutti  gli uomini? È assurdo: chè gli esseri di cui la sostanza è  unica per tutti, sono una cosa sola. Diremo, invece, che sono  molti e differenti? Ma anche questo è assurdo (*). E intanto,  come la materia diviene ciascuna delle cose particolari, e come  il sinolo è materia e forma insieme?   Si potrebbe su i principii sollevare anche questo dubbio.  Se la loro unità è specifica, niente sarà uno numericamente,  neppure lo stesso Uno e l'Ente (‘).     In conchiusione, come ha dimostrato nel lib, II. 3, ci ha da essere per il  divenire, nella serie delle cause, un principio materiale, da cui vengono le cose;  un termine finale (ch'è anche principio motore), e una causa formale (per cui ciò  che diviene diviene qualcosa).    La casa è un prodotto artificiale, non naturale, onde la sua forma non è  organizzata nel sistema delle specie dell'essere. Non c’è, quindi, la casa-specie,  come forma pura che si svolga attraverso le case particolari.    Nè un'unica forma sostanziale, nè una molteplicità di forme sostanziali,  ma un'unica forma che, diversamente sostanziandosi con la materia, produce la  molteplicità degl’individui. In questo senso soltanto par doversi concedere l’esistenza di un principio puramente formale oltre la materia e il sinolo, per la realtà  e intelligibilità delle cose della natura.    (Questione 9£) Principii della stessa specie possono esser meramente  simili. non esser forme di un unico principio.  E come potrà esserci il sapere, se non ci sarà qualcosa 15  di unico che si predica di tutti?   Invece, se la loro unità è numerica, ciascuno dei principii 16  sarà uno e identico; e non, come nelle cose sensibili, sempre  diverso, secondo la diversità delle cose ('). Ad es.: se questa  sillaba è tale perchè ha una determinata qualità, anche i suoi  principii, o elemen  ti, sono da considerare specificamente gli  stessi: ma, se li ripeto, non son più gli stessi quanto al numero. Se, dunque, non è così, ma l’unità dei principii dei  reali è soltanto numerica, non esisterà nient'altro fuori degli  elementi: infatti, dire «uno di numero e dir «singolare    1000 a è lo stesso. Noi diciamo, appunto, singolo quel che è uno  numericamente, universale quel che riguarda tutti. Sarebbe  come se gli elementi fonici delle parole fossero determinati  quanto al numero: necessariamente, l’alfabeto non potrebbe  contenere un numero di lettere maggiore di quegli elementi:  e non ce ne sarebbero due, nè più, della stessa specie.   Di non minore importanza delle altre è una questione 17  trascurata dai moderni non meno che dagli antichi: se i  principii delle cose corruttibili (*) e delle incorruttibili siano  gli stessi, o diversi. Se sono g li stessi, come accade che le 18     Un principio unico senza differenze non può spiegare la diversità delle  cose. Separando, per la discussione, nel concetto dell’unità, il lato fomnale dal  materiale, questo assume un significato aritmetico, semplicemente quantitativo,  con esclusione del qualitativo 0 specifico; quello, a sua volta, acquista il senso  di un'universalità astratta, indifferente al contenuto. (Il rapporto dei due punti di  vista nel giudizio concreto è dato da quello del soggetto individuale al predicato  universale: sì che s'intende come ognuno dei due può giustamente aver pretesa  di superiorità su l’altro).   Le lettere dell’alfabeto, le sillabe, ecc. (noì diremmo le parole) son sempre  diverse nelle parole (e queste nel discorso), pur essendo numericamente e specificamente le stesse (è pur sempre quel certo significato che si svolge nella diversità  della parola). Se dovessero esser le stesse soltanto numericamente, sarebbero come  tessere che, per quanto diversamente configurabili, resterebbero identiche: così  erano gli elementi (terra, acqua, ecc.) immaginati come dati, una volta per sempre,  per la costruzione del mondo. Questo, non ostante le apparenze, sarebbe immobile,  senza generazione nè svolgimento. Così il linguaggio sì ridurrebbe a parole, la  parola a lettere alfabetiche corrispondenti al numero degli elementi fonici di essa.  La questione è ripresa, ma in polemica contro le Idee, nel lib. XIII. 10.    (Questione 104) Corruttibili e incorruttibili: noi diremmo transitorie  ed eterne. une siano corruttibili e le altre incorruttibili, e per quale  motivo?   Quei del tempo di Esiodo, e tutti quanti teologizzarono,  pensarono soltanto a dir cose conformi alle loro credenze,  e delle difficoltà che travagliano noi non si curarono. Essi  dei principii facevano Dei e dagli Dei facevano venir tutto,  e dicevano che gli esseri i quali non hanno gustato il nettare  e l'ambrosia nascono mortali. Certamente, parlavano così  sapendo, essi, quel che dicevano. Ma le ragioni che apportano, sorpassano la nostra intelligenza. Poichè, se è per  cagion del piacere che quegli esseri l’assaggiano, non è il  nettare o l'ambrosia la causa del loro essere; e se fosse la  causa del loro essere, come sarebbero eterni avendo bisogno  di nutrimento? Ma non vale la pena di fermarsi a indagare  intorno a queste escogitazioni mitologiche. Bisogna apprendere da quelli che parlano dimostrando, e chieder loro come  mai degli enti che vengon dagli stessi principii, alcuni sono  eterni per natura, e altri periscono. Non dicendo costoro la  ragione di questo fatto, e non sembrando neppur ragionevole  che stia così, si potrebbe conchiudere che non sono gli stessi  i principii degli enti, nè le loro cause. A Empedocle, del quale  si potrebbe pensare che più degli altri sia d’accordo con se  stesso, anche a lui è accaduto lo stesso. Egli pone, è vero,  un principio causa della corruzione, la discordia; ma parrebbe  che questa fosse causa non più della corruzione che della  generazione d’ogni cosa, ad eccezione dell’ Uno ('), perchè le  altre cose tutte vengono da essa, tranne Dio. Dice, infatti:    Dei quali sono tutti gli esseri, quanti ce ne furono,   e quanti ce ne saranno di nuovo; {quanti ce ne sono,  e le piante germogliarono, e gli uomini e le donne,   e le belve e gli uccelli e i pesci che nutre l'onda,   e i numi longevi.    E anche senza questi versi, è evidente: chè, se non ci  fosse la discordia nelle cose, queste sarebbero tutte una sola,        L' Uno, Dio, è lo Sfero (quando questo era governato dall’Amore soltanto).    1000 b    86 METAFISICA    come egli stesso dice: infatti, quando si trovavano riunite,  allora «la Contesa se ne stava all’estremo confine . D’onde  gli avviene anche di fare il felicissimo Dio meno intelligente  degli altri: di fatto, non possedendo la discordia, non ha  cognizione di tutti gli elementi, chè la cognizione è del simile  col simile. Egli dice:    terra con terra, acqua con acqua scorgiamo,  con l’etere l’etere divino, e il fuoco distruttore col fuoco,  con l’Amore l'Amore, con la Discordia funesta la Discordia.    Ma, per tornare al nostro discorso, è manifesto che per  lui la discordia bisogna che sia non meno cagione dell’essere  che della corruzione. E neppure l’amicizia è causa soltanto  dell'essere: rimenando tutto all’unità, fa perire ogni altra  cosa. Intanto non ci dice niente su la causa di questa mutazione, ma solo che così è per natura:    ma quando la Discordia fu cresciuta grande nelle membra  e sali al comando, compiendosi il tempo   che ad entrambe è prefisso,   in alterna vicenda, da un inviolabile giuramento ('),    come se la mutazione fosse necessaria; ma non ci palesa nessuna cagione di questa necessità. Pur tuttavia egli è il solo  che parli coerentemente, in quanto non fa già degli enti gli  uni corruttibili, e gli altri no; ma tutti corruttibili, eccetto  gli elementi. Invece la questione, di cui qui trattiamo, è perchè  aleuni sono corruttibili ed altri incorruttibili, una volta che  vengono da gli stessi principii.   Che, dunque, i principii non possano esser gli stessi, basti  quanto s’è detto.   Ma se i principii son diversi, uno dei dubbi sarà se quelli  delle cose corruttibili siano ineorruttibili, o corruttibili anch’essi (*). Se corruttibili, è chiaro che anch’essi debbono        Per frammenti Empedoclei, cfr. Diels, op. cit., I, 180 88. (nn. 21, 30, 96, 109).  V. anche E. BicnonE, E., pp. 417 88.   (9) Così anche il Lasson (trad. della Met. di A., Jena, 1* ediz. 1907, p. 51).  Letteralmente sarebbe: «uno dei dubbi sarà se essi stessi sono incorruttibili o  necessariamente venire da altri principii, perchè ogni cosa  si corrompe in ciò da cui deriva: onde risulterebbe che ci  sono altri principii anteriori ai principii. Ma questo non è  accettabile, sia che ci si voglia fermare, sia che si proceda  all’ infinito (‘). E poi, quando i principii loro saranno stati  distrutti, come possono esserci più i corruttibili?  Se, invece, sono incorruttibili: perchè mai da alcuni di essi verran  fuori gli enti incorruttibili, mentre da altri, incorruttibili  anche essi, verran fuori enti corruttibili? Non par davvero  ragionevole: anzi, o è impossibile, o c’è bisogno di molte  spiegazioni.   In fine, nessuno mai ha preso a dire che i principii degli  enti fossero diversi, anzi dicono che son gli Stessi per tutti.  Nella questione, tuttavia, che agitammo dianzi, non s’addentrano, quasi reputandola di poco conto.   La questione più di tutte difficile a meditare e la più necessaria alla conoscenza della verità, è se l’Ente e l’Uno  sono sostanze degli enti, sì che ciascuno di essi, quello in  quanto ente, questo in quanto uno, non siano predicato di  altro; ovvero se bisogni cercare che cosa sia l’Ente, e che  cosa sia l’ Uno, in quanto un’altra natura sta loro a sostrato.  Alcuni la pensano nella prima maniera, altri nella seconda.  Platone e i Pitagorici ritennero che l’ Ente e 1’ Uno non siano  null’altro se non quello che è la loro natura, di essere cioè  la sostanza loro l’essenza dell’ Ente, appunto, e dell’ Uno (?).    I    corruttibili . Ma mì par chiaro, da quel che segue, che la questione riguarda 801tanto i principii dello cose corruttibili. Delle incorruttibili come può sorgere il  dubbio? Nò ia questione è diversa dalla precedente: l’incorruttibilità dì quei  privcipii, infatti, è dimostrata per la medesimezza, laddove la corruttibilità de’  loro effetti è adotta in prova della loro diversità,    Se ci sì ferma, ci son principii anteriori, e son essi principii, non gli altri.  Se si volesse procedere (o regredire) all'infinito, non ci sarebbero principii addirittura, In entrambi i casi quei principii supposti corruttibili verrebbero distrutti  come principii, logicamente e, in quanto abbassati a cose corruttibili, anche realmente. La presente questione si può considerare risolta nel lib. XII (spec. nei  primi capitoli).    (Questione 11) L'essere in sò e per Sè, e così l'Uno, sono sostanza  «lelle cose, come vogliono Pitagorici e Platonici; ovvero la sostanza delle cose  consiste nel sostrato determinato (materia e forma nell’unità del BIinolo), del quale  si possono predicare l’essere e l'uno? I Fisiologi la pensarono altrimenti. Empedocle, ad es., per    dire che cosa è l’Uno cerca di ridurlo a qualcosa di più    facile a sapersi, e parrebbe che questo fosse per lui l’amicizia: per lo meno, essa è la causa dell’unità di tutte le cose.  Altri dicono il fuoco, altri l’aria: questa è, per essi, la natura dell’ Uno e dell'Ente, da cui sono e si generano le cose.  E del pari, coloro che pongono più elementi: anch'essi son  costretti a dire che l’Uno e l’Ente è tante cose quanti per  l'appunto sono i principii (‘).   Se non si volesse concedere che l’Uno e l’Ente sia una  sostanza, neppure quindi può esser tale nessuno degli altri  universali: chè quelli sono universali a maggior titolo degli  altri. Se per ciò non è qualcosa (?) l’Uno per sè e l’Ente per  sè, molto meno si può dire degli altri che siano qualcosa  oltre le cose singolari.   In secondo luogo, se l’Uno non fosse sostanza, è chiaro  che neppur il numero sarebbe una natura separata (*) dalle  altre: poichè il numero è fatto di unità, e l’unità è l’essenza,  per l'appunto, d’ogni cosa ch'è una.   Ma se l’Uno e l’Ente sono qualcosa che è in sè e per sè,  necessariamente la loro sostanza è l’Uno e l'Ente, perchè non  c’è in essi qualche altro sostrato di cui essi si predichino  universalmente, ma sono essi questo sostrato.   Ma, allora, se l’Ente e l’Uno sono qualcosa in sè e per  sè, la difficoltà grande è come ci potrà essere qualche altra  cosa oltre di essi: in altri termini come gli enti potranno  essere più di uno. Poichè l’altro dall’ente non è: per cui si  è costretti a ragionare come Parmenide (‘), che tutte le cose     I Fisiologi posero per principio, non l' Uno in sò e per sè, ma una materia  primordlale, unica o molteplice, come sostrato del divenire,    Qualcosa di esistente in sè e per sè: i. e. una sostanza.    I. e., come prima, una sostanza: ciò che ha un'esistenza indipendente  (in sè e per sò),    I Platonici intendono l'essere come essenza (l'essere intelligibile) dolle  cose, e in questo il loro principio è ben altro da quello parmenideo. Ma essi,  dice A., debbono pure, come Parmenide, escludere ogni molteplicità dal principio posto come assolutamente Uno. (Ricorda che, pur riconoscendo l'esistenza  del molteplice, Platone, come si vide nel lib. I. 6, 9, pose questo come contenuto sono Uno, e questo è l’Ente. Non c’è da star contenti nè in 1001 b  un caso nè nell’altro: o che l’Uno non sia sostanza, o che  l’Uno sia qualcosa in sè e per sè, il numero non può essere  sostanza. Se l’Uno non è sostanza, quest’impossibilità s'è  dimostrata prima. Se invece è sostanza, vale per esso la  stessa difficoltà che intorno all’Ente: donde verrà un altro  uno oltre l’Uno in sè e per sè? Necessariamente, esso non  potrà esser uno. Ora, tutto ciò che è, o è uno, o molti, dei  quali ciascuno è uno.   39 In secondo luogo, se l’Uno è in sè indivisibile, stando  alla sentenza di Zenone esso sarebbe nulla; poichè, ciò che  o aggiunto o sottratto non fa esser perciò una cosa nè più  grande nè più piccola, non è secondo lui da annoverare tra  gli enti; come se fosse evidente che l’essere sia una grandezza, e, se grandezza, sia perciò corporeo: chè questo sarebbe ente da ogni lato. Le altre grandezze ('), invece, aggiunte in un certo modo (*), dice, fanno più grande ciò a  cui si aggiungono, e in un altro, no: per es. una superficie,   40 una linea. Il punto e l’unità, in nessun caso, mai. Costui è  rozzo nelle sue speculazioni; e poichè qualcosa indivisibile  esiste, se ne potrebbe far la difesa contro di lui anche così:  esso è di tal natura che, aggiunto, non farà più grande ciò   41 a cui si aggiunge, ma, con esso, farà più nel numero. Rimarrebbe, ciò non ostante, la questione (*): come da un tale uno,       soltanto: laddove il principio formale dell'idea era l’unità pura). In termini filosofico-religlos!, la dottrina platonica conduceva ad un misticismo pantelstico (salvo  il motivo, teistico, della trascendenza formale, svolto da A.).    L'Uno, contro il quale Zenone combatte, non è (come giustamente fa  osservare il Ross) il principio parmenideo, ma quello pitagorico, o l'uno come  prinelpio di spiegazione del molteplice fisico (sensibile, corporeo). Esso era pensato, infatti, come una grandezza indivisibile (cfr. l'atomo democriteo). E però  Zenone accetta questo modo di vedere, e considera il corpo (il solido, la grandezza a tre dlmensloni) come ente a maggior ragione delle altre grandezze. Egli  può, così, dimostrare che il mondo e ogni cosa, in quanto risultante da quelle  unità elementari, sarebbero insieme infinitamente grandi e infinitamente piccoli,  ossia contradittorli.    Secondo che si agglungono l’una di seguito all'altra, oppure vengon so0vrapposte;    A. non condivide il modo dl vedere pitagorico-platonico che identifica  l'arltmetico col geometrico, e però trova rozza l’argomentazione di Zenone. o da molti come esso, si avrà la grandezza? Poichè è come  dire che la linea risulti di punti. E se anche si vuol ammettere quel che dicono alcuni, che il numero provenga dall’Uno in sè e da qualcos’altro non uno ('), resta sempre a    sapersi perchè e come l’effetto è talora un numero, talora’    una grandezza, una volta che il non-uno è la disuguaglianza  e la sua natura è sempre la stessa (?). Non si vede nè come  da l’Uno più questa, nè come da un numero più questa,  potrebbero venir fuori le grandezze. A queste fa seguito la questione, se i numeri e i corpi (*) e  le superfici e i punti siano da porre tra le sostanze, o no.   Se non sono sostanze, ci sfugge che cosa sia l’essere, e  quali cose siano sostanze. Le affezioni, i movimenti, le relazioni, gli ordinamenti e rapporti diversi delle cose, non pare  davvero che esprimano la sostanza di nulla: essi vengono  tutti riferiti a un sostrato, e nessuno è un essere concreto.  Si prendano pure, come esprimenti la sostanza meglio di  ogni altra cosa, l’acqua e la terra e il fuoco e l’aria, di cui  constano i corpi composti; ma il loro riscaldarsi o raffreddarsi, e simili altre affezioni, non sono sostanze: solo il corpo  che li riceve, rimane come qualcosa di concreto e come una  sostanza reale. E tuttavia, il corpo è ancor meno sostanza  della superficie, e la superficie della linea, e la linea del  ‘Tuttavia dà ragione a costui quanto all’impossibilità di dedurre l’esteso dall’ inesteso. Ricorda, infatti, l'imbarazzo di Platone per il concetto di punto:  lib, I. 9, 25.    La diade indefinita (il grande-piccolo).    Onde, o è ineste sa, e dall'unione con l'Uno verranno i numeri, non le  grandezze; o è estesa, e dall'unione con l’Uno verranno le grandezze, non i  numeri. Nè, se uno dicesse che, prima, dall’Uno e dalla diade si genera il numero, poi da questo con la diade le grandezze,  neanche così resterebbe spiegato  il passaggio dall'inesteso all’esteso. La questione 11° è ripresa in VII. 16, 3-4 e X. 2  (oltre gli accenni sparsi nei libri XIII-XIV).   (8) (Questione 12*)I solidi (corpi matematici). unità e del punto. Infatti, da questi vien determinato il  corpo: e se questi parrebbe che possano esistere senza il  5 corpo, il corpo senza di essi non può('). Avvenne per ciò  che i più antichi filosofi, pur reputando, conforme all’opinione dei più, che il corporeo fosse la sostanza reale delle  cose, considerarono il resto sue affezioni, così che i principii  dei corpi erano, anche per essi, i principii delle cose. Ma  i filosofi posteriori (*) e più raffinati di quelli reputarono che  principii siano i numeri.  6 Dunque, come s’è detto, se questi non Sono sostanza,  non c’è punto nessuna sostanza, nè alcun essere reale: chè  i loro accidenti non meritano davvero di esser chiamati enti.  7 D’altra parte, se si concede questo, che le linee e i punti  sono sostanza più dei corpi, non vedendo noi di quali corpi  possano esser sostanza (di quelli sensibili non è possibile),  8 non ci sarebbe sostanza nessuna (*). Inoltre, pare che tutte  queste cose siano divisioni del corpo, l’una in larghezza,  9 l’altra in profondità, e l’altra in lunghezza (*). Aggiungi che  nel solido o c’è del pari ogni sorta di figure, o non ce n'è  nessuna: per cui, se, poniamo, non c’è un Ermete nella pietra, neppure c’è la metà del cubo nel cubo(°): s’intende     Tanto poco si deve ritenere per sostanza ciò che a unu veduta grossolana  pare più corporeo, che anzi gli elementi primi e i principii generatori del reale  si trovano per ultimo con l’anallsl della riflessione: la superficie come principio  generatore del solido, lu linea della superficie, il punto della linea.  Parrebbe  che il semplice possa esistere prima e indipendentemente dal più complesso  (v. lib. I. 8, 9 88.), 6 però esser sostanza n maggior diritto.    I più antichi filosofi: i Fisiologi. I filosofi posteriori: Pitagorici e Platonici.    Cfr. VII. 10, 19: «La materia intelligibile, quale quella delle matematiche,  è nei sensibili, ma non in quanto sensibili . E già in I. 8, 1 aveva detto che con  i principii matematici non si può dar conto delle proprietà e qualità delle cose  oggetto della Fisica.    Non sostanze, ma divisioni che noi operiamo nei corpi.   (5) Come nota S. Tom. (8 509): «haec in continuo non sunt in actu, nisi solum  quantum ad illa quae terminant continuum, quae manifestum est non esse substantiam corporis. Aliae vero superficies vel lineae non possunt esse corporis  substantiae, quia non sunt actu in ipso: substantia autem actu est in eo cuius  est substantie . In potenza ci son tutte: così come la figura di Mercurio è nel  blocco di marmo, e la superficie che divide 11 cubo a metà è nel cubo. In atto  ci sono soltanto se le realizziamo: se no, rimangono, come idee soltanto, nel come figura determinata. E così per le superfici: se, infatti,  ci fosse ogni sorta di superfici, ci sarebbe anche quella che  determina la metà del cubo. Lo stesso ragionamento vale  anche per la linea, per il punto e l’unità. Sì che, se il corpo  principalmente è sostanza, ma queste cose, che pur han diritto di esser sostanza più di esso, non sono poi per nulla  determinate sostanze,  ci sfuggirà quel che è il reale, e  quale sia la sostanza degli enti.   Altri assurdi vengon fuori considerando la generazione e  la corruzione. Sembra, infatti, che la sostanza, se prima non  era ed ora è, oppure prima era ed ora non è, subisca queste  vicende perchè si genera e si corrompe. Ma i punti e le linee  e le superfici, pur talora essendo e talora no, non possono nè  generarsi nè corrompersi, per la ragione che è nell’atto in cui  i corpi si toccano e si dividono che, in un caso, di quel che  viene in contatto (') si fa unità, nell’altro, quel che vien diviso diventa due: quei che si compongono, c’erano, ma, essendo stati distrutti nella composizione, non sono più; quando  invece vengono divisi, ci sono, mentre prima non c’erano. Di  sicuro, non si è già diviso in due l’indivisibile punto (?).  Eppure, se si generano e corrompono, ciò avviene da qualcosa.   Press’a poco lo stesso vale, in riguardo al tempo, per  l'istante: neppur di esso si dà generazione e corruzione, e  tuttavia sembra che sia sempre diverso pur non essendo una  sostanza. È chiaro che lo stesso vale anche per i punti, per le  linee e per le superfici: perchè il discorso è lo stesso: tutti  sono similmente o limiti o divisioni (*).    pensiero e virtualmente (ricorda Leibniz!) nelle cose. L'« argumentationis fraus   (Bonitz, p. 167), per cui A. estenderebbe la conchiusione «ad eam figuram quae  actu corpus circumsceribit , non mi par che ci sia.    I. e. punti, linee, superfici (propriamente, superfici, so si compongono 0  dividono due corpi; linee, se due superfici; punti, se due linee).     «Neque enim illud quisque statuitur, ita in dirimendis corporibus fieri   planum vel lineam, ut ipsum punctum dissecetur: Bonitz (p. 168). A ciò, infatti,  ci vorrebbe un passaggio, dalla potenza all'atto. Laddove l’atto è istantaneo, e  nell'istante non c'è generazione (che implica un processo temporale).    V. il passo di S. Ton. cit. dianzi. Degli enti matematici trattano ampiamente i libri XIII-XIV; ivi è ripresa anche la questione delle idee, alla quale  si ritorna nella 13% (efr. la questione 5* e 9°). Si potrebbe anche in generale far questione, perchè mai  bisogna cercare altre entità oltre le sensibili e le intermedie,  2 e quali siano: per es., le specie, che noi poniamo. Si può  rispondere che gli enti matematici differiscono bensì per un  verso dalle cose di quaggiù, ma non ne differiscono punto  in quanto ce ne sono molti della stessa specie ('): per cui i  principii delle cose non si possono determinare con il numero;  così come l'alfabeto non è determinato dal numero delle lettere, ma dalla loro specie (a meno che uno non prenda le  lettere di una sillaba o parola attualmente determinata: chè  3 lì anche il loro numero è determinato). Ma lo stesso vale per  gli intermedi: anche-là, infiniti sono quelli della stessa specie.  Così che, se oltre le cose sensibili e gli enti matematici non  ci fossero altri enti, quali sono le specie secondo alcuni,  nè  ci sarebbe una sostanza unica per numero, oltre che per specie (°), nè i principii degli enti sarebbero tanti, e non più,  di numero, ma di specie soltanto. Che se questo è necessariamente conchiuso, bisogna conchiudere anche che le specie  4 esistono. E se pure non si spiegano bene i loro sostenitori,  bene è questo quel che vogliono, ed è necessario che questo  essi intendano dire: che delle specie ciascuna è una sostanza     (Questione 18%)  Molti (infiniti) triangoli sensibili, e molti (infiniti)  triangoli geometrici (sebbene questi siano eterni e immobili). Questa molteplicità  ha bisogno di un principio di unificazione, che non può esser altro che ideale  (in questo caso, il concetto stesso dij triangolo). Così, come l'alfabeto è tale per  In «specificità delle lettere in cui i suoni fonici ri determinano, non per il  numero dei suoni che fan capo a esso.    Oppure, secondo la variante difesa dlal Bonitz e dallo Schwegler (e già  in Aless.): «ma soltanto di specie . Il senso, tuttavia, è giusto anche tenendo  il testo com'è. Nota che nell'argomentazione i termini s'inerociano: il molteplice sensibile e matematico è veduto deutro la specie, ed è perciò « della stessa  specie ; esigere, poi, che anche per questo molteplice ci sia una specie unica,  che ne dia la ragione logica e insieme reale, è esigere un’unità numerica, oltre  che specifica: laddove, se quel molteplice è veduto fuori della specie, questa rappresenta di esso un’unità specifica, non numerica. determinata, sì che non si tratta .di determinazioni accidentali dell’essere.   D'altra parte, se noi porremo che le specie esistono ('),  e che i principii abbiano unità per il numero, non per la  specie,  s'è detto innanzi (*) a quali conchiusioni inaccettabili si arrivi.   Affine a questa è la questione se gli elementi sono in potenza o in qualche altro modo (*). Se fossero in qualche altro  modo, ci sarebbe qualcos’altro, anteriore ai principii, poichè  la potenza sarebbe anteriore a una tal causa, non essendo  necessario che tutto ciò che è possibile sia a quel modo (*).   Se, invece, gli elementi sono in potenza, potrebbe non  esister nulla attualmente, poichè è possibile anche ciò che  ancora non è. Diviene, infatti, ciò che non è ancora. Invece,  nulla diviene di quel che è impossibile che sia.   Queste, dunque, sono le questioni da discutere intorno ai  principii; e anche se siano universali, o al modo che diciamo  dei singolari. Se universali, non saranno sostanze, perchè  nessun termine comune esprime un essere concretamente determinato, bensì una certa natura dell’essere; invece, la sostanza è un essere concretamente determinato. Se ciò che si  predica in comune (*) fosse un essere concretamente deter   A sè, come sostanze, enti separati o indipendenti.    V. nel Sommario quest. 54, a); quest. 9, b). L'unità per il numero, soltanto,  fa dei principii elementi materiali, incapaci di dar ragione delle cose. Cfr. S. Tom.  (8 518): « Principia rerum efficientia et moventia sunt quidem determinata nuniero;  sed principia rerum formalia, quorum sunt multa individua unius speciei, non sunt  determinata numero, sed solum specie .    (Questione 148)  In atto. La questione è a/fne alla procedente, perchò l’unità numerica, oltre che specifica, è Atto e individualità; quella soltanto  specifica corrisponde alla mera possibilità,    L'attuale (empiricamente inteso) presuppone il possibile (come sua propria  pensabilità, diremmo noi), non viceversa. Nota che altro è il « possibile , altro ciò  ch’ è «in potenza  (sebbene di solito indicati con lo stesso termine: tò Buvaréy):  in questo è già il principio del processo determinato del divenire, che si svolge  da una forma già realizzata in una materia; il possibile, invece, non ha altra  determinazione che di non esser contradittorio. La questione è ripresa e trattata in lib. IX. 1-9.   (5) (Questione 15%)  xatnyogovpeva, universali astratti. La questione è  implicata già nella minato, e si potesse staccare dai particolari, Socrate sarebbe  molti esseri viventi: cioè, lui stesso, l'uomo, l’animale: dato  che ognuno di questi sia un essere concreto e qualcosa che sta  da solo. Questo, dunque, accade se i principii sono universali.   Se, poi, non sono universali, ma al- modo dei singolari,  non saranno più oggetto di scienza, perchè la scienza in ogni  cosa è dell'universale. Sicchè, se la scienza deve esserci, ci  saranno altri principii anteriori ai principii: quelli che si predicano in universale.  C'è una scienza che studia l'essere in quanto essere (')  e le sue proprietà essenziali. Essa è diversa da ognuna delle    scienze particolari: poichè nessuna delle altre scienze studia  in universale l'essere in quanto essere, re, ma, dopo averne recisa qualche parte, di questa considera gl: gli accidenti. Così,  le matematiche.     Td Bv fi Bv: l’essere, il reale, in Sè e per sò. Questa è "la definizione  fondamentale della Metafisica, alla quale si riducono le altre due vedute finora:  quella del lib. I, di scienza dei principii e cause prime, e quella del lib. II, di  scienza della verità. Salvo che l’una determina il senso della definizione fondamentale piuttosto in riguardo alla realtà delle cose, l’altra piuttosto in riguardo  al pensiero che le pensa. Ma, sì può chiedere, i principil e le cause prime delle  cose non le studinno anche le altre scienze, e in primo logo le fisiche? Qual'è,  allora, la differenza tra la Metafisica e le altre scienze? La questione è trattata  più ampiamente nel cap. 1 del lib. VI, Qui si.ascenna soltanto-che-le-Matafisica  considera 1’ essere nella sua universalità e necessità. Le altre scienze, il infatti, si  restringono t) “considerare un genere di enti (gli unimalt, Te piante, ece.; i ‘’auoni,  i colori, ecc.; i numeri, lo figure reometriche, ecc.), € però son tutte particolari.  Non solo: ma nel genere particolare di cose, che studiano, non riguardano no alla  loro pura essenza, a ciò che sono per una necessità intima dell'essere stesso, ma  considerano le loro qualità e proprietà, astraendole (quasi recidendole) dalla  sostanza ed essenza loro, data nel concetto e nella definizione. Ne cgnsiderano  gli accidenti: le fisiche, gli accidenti sensibili; le matematiche (che astraggono  dal resto per considerare le sole proprietà quantitative), gli accidenti che possiam  chiamare intelligibili. Invece, l’essere vien studiato dalla Metafisica come principio da cui necessariamente dipendono gli altri principi, in quanto questi non  son altro che parti o elementi dell’intelligibilità e realtà dell'essere per se stesso. Ora, volendo noi conoscere i principii e le cause supreme,  è chiaro che li dobbiamo cercare come proprietà di una natura  considerata per se stessa. Se, dunque, coloro che cercavano  gli elementi degli enti ('), cercavano anch'essi questi principii, di necessità anche gli elementi erano dell’essere non  accidentalmente considerato, ma in quanto essere. Per ciò  anche a noi convien prendere le prime cause dell’essere in  quanto essere.    CaPiToLO II.    Dell’ente si parla in molti modi (*), ma sempre per un  solo rispetto e determinatamente alla natura di una cosa, non  per omonimia semplicemente, ma nello stesso modo che di   I Fisiologi, i quali facevano anch'essi, inconsapevolmente, della metafisica.    L'essere in quanto oggetto del pensiero è l'essere che viene affermata nel  conoscere e nel sapere: l'essere delle cose di cui il metafisico indaga le categorie  supremo. Le altre scienze adoperano queste categorie; il metafisico le studia  come puri concetti in cuì si distingue o determina il concetto in sè e per sè  dell'essere. Dell'essere reale, s'intende: di quello ch'è predicato delle cose.  Questo viene quindi distinto in sostanza e accidenti, gli accidenti in essenziali  e non essenziali, e vla dicendo. E di ognuno di questi aspetti, che il pensiero  coglie nelle cose, si chiarisce il significato e il rapporto che hauno tra loro.   Il conoscore e il sapere, inoltre, procedono ponendo rapporti tra le cose dentro  ciascuna delle categorie sostanziali o accidentali: rapporti, cioè, di identità, di  uguaglianza, di somiglianza, ecc., e de’ loro contrari, Il metafisico studia il significato e il rapporto anche di queste categorie che potremo chiamare dialettiche,  pur che sai badi che qui A. intende del pensiero che si muove nella realtà delle  cose: non per mera esercitazione.   Non basta. Questo pensiero che peusa le cose e i loro rapporti, già nel conoscere comune; ma molto più visibilmente in quello scientifico, procede affermando  o negando, con giudizi, ragionamenti, dimostrazioni. Ma affermare o negare, giudicare, ragionare e dimostrare, è impossibile se non si pongono a fondamento  principii di pensabilità delle cose: ci sono certe verità evidenti, sopprimendo le  quali diventa impossibile pur cominciare, non che a pensare, n parlare.   Parlare non è lo stesso che pensare e ragionare: uno può parlare per esprimere un sentimento o per comunicarlo ad altri. Ma anche il pensare discorsivamente può essere riguardato e studiato in sè e per sè, come mero movimento 0  processo dialettico del pensiero attraverso i concetti e i loro rapporti. Di questo  trattano specialmente i Primi Analitici. Data questa indipendenza del pensiero  in quanto discorso, è possibile abusarne come fanno i Sofisti. La Metafisica lo  sottrae a questo pericolo soggettivo, perchè essa considera il pensiero in quanto  pensa l'essere reale delle cose; e però spetta ad essa lo studio di quelle verltà ciamo salubre tutto ciò che riguarda la salute: o perchè la  conserva, o perchè la produce, o perchè indizio di salute, o  perchè ci rende capaci di essa. Così, dicesi «medico  ciò 1008 b  che riguarda la medicina: chiamiamo medico chi possiede  l’arte della medicina, e anche ciò che ha natura buona a  medicare, oppure quel che è effetto di essa. E nella stessa  maniera di queste si avranno da intendere altre espressioni.  L'ente si dice per l'appunto così, in molti sensi, ma tutti in  riguardo a un solo principio: enti noi diciamo le sostanze,    e anche le affezioni della sostanza, e tutto ciò che alla sostanza    conduce : corruzioni, privazioni, qualità, quel che produce o  genera una sostanza, cose che si riferiscono. alla. sostanza,  ovvero sono o negazioni ( di i qualcuna di ‘queste v della sostanza  stessa: per cui del non-ente diciamo pure che «è non-ente(!).    supreme o assiomi, o principii di pensabilità, che scaturiscono immediatamente  dall’intelletto nell'atto del conoscere e di costruire il sapere. Di questi principii  il fondamentale è quello di non-contraddizione.   La Metafisica di Aristotele, veduta da questo lato, è una scienza della scienza,  fin dove, alineno, questo concetto moderno può essere, senza anacronismo, attribuito a lui. Manca, naturalmente, il senso dì soggettività in cui si pone questo  concetto dopo Kant, C'è soltanto quel senso di essa che poteva esserci dopo la  Sofistica e in opposizione all’idealismo oggettivo di Platone. Di qui un primo  spunto di criticismo. La Metafisica di A. è più critica che costruttiva. E poichè  la critica è fondamentalmente concettuale, si può definire una scienza che mira  a chiarire, nella molteplicità del reale, il concetto puro di esso. La dipendenza,  in cui il pensiero è ancora dalle cose, dà, tuttavia, anche a questa definizione un  significato lontano da quello che oggi ci sì potrebbe aspettare: molte volte, più  che elaborare i concetti, A. si limnita ad esporne il significato, o a distinguerne  i vari significati. Dono, più che risolva, spesso, i problemi: mostrandosi, anche  in questo, scolaro di Platone.    In questo capitolo il peusiero procede un po' a sbalzi, e sembra infatti che  il testo vada in qualche punto riordinato.   Esso si compone di tre parti: due pongono il concetto che c' è un'unica scienza  dell'essere in quanto essere, sia in riguardo alla sostanza e ai suoi attributi, sia  in riguardo alle opposizioni dialetticheia terza differenzia questa forma di scienza  dalle altre. Riassumiaino brevemente, per mostrare l’ordine delle idee:   I) Ogni scienza ha un suo oggetto (un certo genere di cose), del quale considera i vari aspetti. Ma questi si posson ridurre tutti a quello fondamentale  della sostanza e de’ suoi attributi. Questa distinzione riguarda l'essere di ogni  cosa: sarà, dunque, oggetto della scienza che studia l'essere in sè e per sè. La  quale sarà unica, così come resta unica ogni scienza non ostante la varietà delle  specie del genere che studia: il che non impedisce che abbia parti, e saranno,  queste, organizzate in essa, così come lo sono in ogni altra scienza. In quel modo, dunque, che di tutte le cose salubri c’è 2  una scienza sola, così anche delle altre. Compito, infatti, di  un’unica scienza è lo studio, non soltanto di quel che si dice  per uno stesso rispetto (‘), ma anche di quel che si dice considerando una stessa natura: chè anche questo, in certo modo,  si dice per uno Stesso rispetto. È dunque chiaro altresì che 3  unica è la scienza che dovrà studiare gli enti tutti in quanto  enti. Ma, dappertutto, scienza è principalmente quella dell'essere che è primo, e da cui tutto il resto dipende, e per  cui di tutte le cose sì parla. Se dunque questo primo è la  sostanza, dovrà il filosofo possedere i principii e le cause  delle sostanze (?).   In ogni genere di cose, come uno è il senso (*), se i sen- 4  sibili appartengono a uno stesso genere, così è della scienza:  la grammatica, ad es., sola, basta alla considerazione di tutte  le voci. Per ciò ad una scienza unica di genere spetta di  studiare quante ci sono specie dell’ente come ente: alle specie  di quella, poi, le specie di questo. Parlar dell'Uno e parlar dell’ Essere è lo stesso. Le opposizioni dialet‘tiche sono opposizioni dell'essere, perchè il non-essere in realtà è, non mera  negazione, ma privazione, contrarietà. Ora, l'opposizione unità-molteplicità è opposizione di contrari, e questi, a lor volta, si riducono sempre all'opposizione  upo-molteplice. E poichè ognuno concede che dei contrari la scienza è unica,  unica sarà la scienza della contrarietà in generale. Questa avrà significati diversi.  che tale scienza dovrà studiare, chiarire e organizzare logicamente [5-6, 8-11, 15-16).   III) E per il primo e per il secondo rispetto si conchiude che unica è la  scienza dell'essere în quanto essere, la quale studierà l’essere in quanto sostanza  e attributi, e in quanto alle contrarietà o opposizioni dialettiche [12]; vien nggiunto il concetto di svolgimento e di definizione (19; così mi par si possano  intendere le ultime parole « genere e specie, «tutto e parte: questi concetti  non si riducono, infatti, immediatamente salle opposizioni precedenti).   Questa scienza è diversa da quella sofistica, che guarda gli accidenti e le  «opposizioni, e non li coglie come determinazioni essenziali dell’essere in se  ‘stesso [13-14]. Ma è diversa anche da quella degli scienziati, perchè, sebbene  l'essere nella sua universalità astratta non sia nulla di reale, pure, considerato  come dianzi s'è detto, è quella realtà che fa roali tutto le cose: intorno a queste  versano le scienze, intorno a quella la Metafisica [17-18]. /    xa@” Ev, distinto da reds plav qpuow, l'uno come poni di vista logico, l’altro  reale (e logico insieme),    Enti, sostanze: questi plurali vanno intesi nel senso del singolare.   (8) Uno è il senso per i colori, ad es., per i suoni, ecc.    L’organizzazione del sapere coincide, così, in ogni scienza, con quella  dell’essere nelle cose.  L’ente. poi, e l’uno sonola stessa cosa, ed esprimono una  medesima natura,.in quanto s’implicano l’up l'altro così. come  principio e causa, sebbene i loro. concetti, a volerli illustrare,  non siano identici (') (e non fa nulla se noi ora Ii consideriamo tali, che anzi, ci gioverà meglio allo scopo). Non è,  infatti, la stessa cosa « uno-uomo  e «un uomo, «ente-uomo  e «l’uomo  (?)? E che altro è se non una ripetizione verbale  il dire: «l’uomo è, «l’uomo è uno? E se l’uomo nasce e  muore, è chiaro che non per questo esso si separa dal suo  essere; e similmente dicasi anche per la sua unità (*). Per cui  è evidente che l’aggiunta nelle frasi su dette non muta il  senso, e che l’uno non è nulia di diverso dall’ente. La sostanza  di ciascun essere è un’unità,-enon--per-aeeidente, ma pro 6 prio come ogni cosa che sia un essere determinato. Così che  tante saranno le specie dell’uno(‘*), e tante saranno anche  quelle dell’essere; e la scienza che studia l'essenza delle une  é Ia stessa, in fondo,. di. quella che studia }essenza . delle  altre. Voglio dire, ad es., lo studio dell’identità, dell’uguaglianza e delle altre simili, e delle loro opposte: chè, si può  dire, tutti i contrari si riducono-a questo principio dell’uno 1004 a     L'Uno si adopera in sensi più particolari, esposti in V.6 e X. 1: esprime,  soprattutto, l’indivisibilità, la misura, il principio del numero. Per principio e  causa, v, llb, V.162.    Ho accettata nel testo la giusta modificazione proposta dal Ross. Il greco  non ba l'articolo indeterminato, nò quello determinativo, ch’io ho aggiunti innanzi  all'« uomo  del secondo membro dei due incisi. Questi mirano a porre le due  uguaglianze, poi l'uguaglianza loro, in fine quella dei due termini uno e ente.    Questo periodetto (che il Christ mette tutto tra parentesi, e io ho così  interpretato, perchè mi par giusto intendere la seconda parte, «e similmente  dicasi, ecc., in rapporto a quel che precede, anzichè a quel che segue, come  intendono invece il Bonitz e il Ross) vuole semplicemente dire che il divenire  non muta la questione. Cfr. S. Tom, (552): « Et sicut elictum est quod ens et homo  non separantur in generatione et corruptione, similiter apparet de uno. Nam cum  generatur homo, generatur unus homo; et cum corrumpitur, similiter corrumpitur.  Unde manifestum est quod appositio in Istis ostendit idem; et per hoc quod additur  vel unum vel ens, non intelligitur addi alique natura supra hominem. Ex quo  manifeste apparet quod unum non est praeter ens: quia quaecumque uni et eidem  sunt eademi, sibi invicem sunt eadem . ,    Qui specie vale, evidentemente, nozioni, concetti: chè 1’ Uno e l'Ente non  sono generi e del molteplice (‘). Si vegga in proposito la nostra trattazione: La scelta dei contrari (?).   Ci sono, in conchiusione, tante parti della filosofia, quante  appunto sono le sostanze delle cose, onde, di necessità, ci  deve essere tra esse quella che vien prima e quella che vien  dopo. Poichè l’essere e l’uno si trovano sin da principio divisi in generi (*), e anche le scienze si partiscono in conseguenza. Il filosofo è come colui che diciamo matematico: la  matematica anch'essa ha parti, e delle scienze matematiche  ce n’è una che vien prima, un’altra viene in secondo luogo,  e ordinatamente le altre.   E poichè a una sola scienza appartiene lo studio degli  opposti, e all'uno si oppone il molteplice, apparterrà a una  sola scienza lo studio della negazione e della privazione, perchè in ambedue i rispetti si considera pur sempre quell’uuo  a cui la negazione e Ja privazione si riferiscono. O infatti  noi diciamo semplicemente che esso non ha luogo, ovvero  che non ha luogo in un certo genere di cose: quivi, dunque,     Non è, questa specificazione, nel testo. Cfr. S. Tom. (561-562): « Et ad hoc  principium, sc. unum, reducuntur omnia contraria fere [si può dire]. Et hoo addit  quia in quibusdam non est ita manifestum. Et tamen hoc esse necesse est: quia  cum in omnibus contrariis alterum habeat privationem inclusam, oportet fieri  reductionem nd privativa prima, inter quae praecipue est unwn. Et iterum multitudo, quae ex uno cansatur, causa est diversitatis differentiae et contrarietatis,  ut infra dicetur. L'uno è il sostrato in cui il molteplice è allo stato potenziale,  di privazione (positiva), non di mera negazione (astratta),    ‘’ExAZoyd t6v èvavilov sembra il titolo di un'opera di A. perduta (intorno  a essa, v. Fragmenta, ed. Rose, 118-124),    L'essere è un xovvév, astratto; iu realtà si presenta eù@vs, immediatamente,  diviso neì generi del reale, oggetti delle particolari scienze. Qui si tornerebbe  alla prima definizione della Metafisica, anzi al primo significato di essa: ci sono  i generi della sostanza materiale e immateriale, mobile e immobile, sensibile e  intelligibile, ecc. (cfr. XII. 1). Ma generi può esser inteso anche come equivalente  n specie, di dianzi, cloè a concetti sostanziali, 1 quali possono esser organizzati  logicamente, così come le parti della matematica, nell'esempio che segue, col  criterio della semplicità o complessità maggiore (noi diremmo: astrattezza è  concretezza graduale): aritmetica (11 numero), geometria (la figura), astronomin  (il movimento celeste), armonica (rapporti matematici di suoni), ecc. In questa  seconda veduta viene implicato il concetto di una gradualità logica dell'essere,  che nella prima (molto più frequente in A.) può mancare. Per A. tra i generi  non c'è passaggio. oltre a ciò che è nella negazione, viene aggiunta all’uno la  differenza ('): poichè la negazione di esso indica soltanto l’assenza, mentre nella privazione viene in chiaro anche una determinata natura come sostrato di cui si predica la privazione.   All’unità si oppone la molteplicità, così che anche gli opposti dei concetti citati dianzi, il diverso e il dissimile e il  disuguale, e quanti altri si dicono o secondo quelli, o in generale secondo il molteplice e l’uno, vanno imparati a conoscere  dalla scienza in discorso. Tra essi è anche la contrarietà,  poichè la contrarietà è una differenza, e la differenza è diversità (?). Di modo che, dicendosi l’uno in molti modi,  anche quelli si diranno in molti modi; tuttavia appartiene  a una sola scienza di conoscerli tutti. Questa molteplicità di  modi non richicde scienze diverse, le quali ci vogliono quando  questa molteplicità non sì lascia ridurre logicamente nè sotto  un unico rispetto nè sotto un’unica relazione. Ma, poichè  tutto sì può ridurre a un principio supremo, ad es., tutto  ciò di cui si predica l’unità a un’unità suprema, lo stesso si  deve ripetere anche dell’identico e del diverso e dei contrari.  Cosicchè, dopo di aver distinto in quanti modi ciascuno di  essi si dice, bisogna render ragione, per ciascuna categoria (*),  in qual rapporto esso stia con il modo principale e come  a esso venga attribuito: di alcuni, ad es., si troverà che esso     Alessandro, Schwegler, Bonitz intendono che si parli non dello privazione,  mn della negazione, e non riescono a dar un senso alla frase. Vedo che anche  il Ross propone di riferliria alla privazione; l'esitazione, che ancora lo trattiene,  ò per l’inciso «nll’uno , ch'egli vorrebbe soppresso: i mo pare che il passo citato  dianzi di S. Tom, lo chiarisca a sufficienza, In ogni modo, è nota In dottrina  aristotelica cho non-bianco è negazione soltanto (astratta), nero è privazione  (concreta, positiva): nell'una non sì deterinina altro, e potrebbe predicarsi, ad es.,  anche di un suono; nell'altra viene aggiunta «la differenza di colore, in riferimento nl sostrato ra cui nppartiene (diremmo, l'inchiostro). Così, non-veggente  e cieco, non-dotto e ignorante, ecc.    La diversità è, propriamente, una cifferenza di genere; la differenza  (propr. detta) è una diversità nello stesso genere (le specie), la quale, quando è  massima, è contrarietà: X. 8, 8; ivi, 4, 1-2.   (8) Categoria, qui, vale (come avverte il Bonit2, p. 180) predicato, nozione, ecc.:  ossia, per la nozione d'identità, diversità, ecc., si deve far lo stesso lavoro d'analisi  che per l’essero in generale: distinguere i diversi significati e determinare la  relazione tra i significati secondari o derivati e quello fondamentale originario. li comprende, di altri che li produce, di altri esso sarà predicato in altri modi siffatti.   È dunque palese quel che già si accennò nella esposizione  dei problemi: che spetta a un’unica scienza ragionare di tutte  queste determinazioni e della sostanza. Questa era una delle  questioni colà agitate. Ed è dovere del filosofo di esser in   1004  grado di speculare intorno 4 tutte queste cose. Che se tale  non è il compito del filosofo, chi sarà allora che indagherà  se Socrate e Socrate seduto sono lo stesso (*); ovvero, se  ogni contrario ha un solo contrario, e che cosa è il contrario, e in quanti modi si dice? E così di altre tali questioni.  Orbene, essendo queste per se stesse affezioni dell’uno in  quanto uno e dell’ente in quanto ente, e non in quanto numeri o linee o fuoco, è chiaro che quella scienza dovrà conoscere e che cosa sono e le loro proprietà. E coloro che intorno  a esse indagano, non sbagliano già perchè non sia da filosofi  l’indagarne, ma perchè par che non s’accorgano neppure  della sostanza; e sì che questa è prima di tutto il resto! Che  se il numero in quanto numero ha le sue proprie affezioni,  come parità e disparità, commensurabilità e uguaglianza, eccesso e difetto (qualità che appartengono ai numeri o per se  stessi considerati o in relazione gli uni con gli altri); e se  altre ne ha di proprie parimenti il solido, quel che è immobile e quel che è mobile, quel che ha peso e quello che ne  manca; bene ne avrà di sue proprie anche l’ente in quanto  ente, e queste costituiranno appunto ciò di cui sarà compito  del filosofo l’indagare il vero.   Ne è un indizio questo: dialettici e sofisti, volendo fare  la stessa figura del filosofo, sebbene la loro sapienza sia solo  apparente, ragionano di tutte le cose e dell’essere che è  comune a tutte, evidentemente perchè questo è l’oggetto  proprio della filosofia. Infatti, la dialettica e la sofistica s’aggirano intorno alla stessa sfera di oggetti della filosofia, ma     La sostanza per sè o congiunta con alcun accidente (ricorda discussioni  sofistiche, soprattutto dei Megarici, in proposito).  Ovvero, se riascun contrario, ece.:  per queste questioni questa differisce dall’una per il modo d’impiegare la facoltà  conoscitiva, dall’altra per il tenore di vita (‘) da quella prescelto. La dialettica si esercita saggiando intorno a quelle  cose di cui la filosofia si sforza di aver conoscenza; la s0fistica si contenta di un sapere apparente, non reale.   Si noti anche che una delle due serie di contrari indica  la privazione, e che entrambe si riducono all’essere e al non  essere, all’uno e al molteplice: ad es., la quiete all’uno, il  movimento al molteplice. Ora quasi tutti i filosofi son d’accordo che gli esseri e la loro sostanza risultano da contrari;  per lo meno, affermano che i principii loro sono contrari:  essi sono per alcuni il dispari e il pari, per altri il caldo e  il freddo, per altri il limite e l’illimitato, per altri l'amicizia  e la discordia (*). Queste e tutte le altre contrarietà si riducono, manifestamente, a quella dell'uno e del molteplice (ci  si conceda dimostrata questa riduzione), sì che sotto essi,  come sotto due generi, cadono tutti i principii: quelli dei  filosofi su detti vi si riducono completamente.   Non c’è dubbio, dunque, anche per queste ragioni, che  còmpito di una sola scienza è lo studio dell’essere in quanto  essere. Chè tutti gli esseri o son contrari o vengono da contrari, e principii dei contrari sono l’uno e il molteplice, e  questi appartengono a un’unica scienza, sia poi che si debbano prendere  in un senso solo, o in più sensi, come forse (*)  la realtà e la verità esige. Ciò non ostante, pur dicendosi  l’uno in molti sensi, questi verranno riferiti tutti a quello  che è prima di tutti; e per i contrari sì dica similmente.   E però, seppure l’essere o l’uno non è qualcosa d’universale e d’identico in tutte le cose, nè da esse separato     Non ispirata dall'amore della verità, ma dall'ambizione o dal guadagno, Per la differenza tra rpodittica, dialettica ed eristica, cfr. Anal. Pr., IL 1.  24 a, 22, 6 Top., I. 1. 1004, 27: l’apodittica pone una sola delle due parti della  contraddizione, invece la dialettica pone l'una e l'altra parte; ma l’una parte da  ciò ch'è primo e vero, l'altra si aggira tra opinioni soltanto, più o meno ben  fondate; l’eristica non cura la fondatezza di queste opinioni.    Pitagorici, Parmenide (?), Platonici, Empedocle.    forse, e poco dopo certo («come certo non è in realtà ): lowg (in entrambi  i casì), na: come certo non è in realtà,  tuttavia esse tutte si riguardano o in rapporto a ciò che hanno d’identico o per i signignificati derivati dall’essere. Non può dunque esser còmpito,  ad es., del geometra lo speculare che cosa è il contrario o  il perfetto o l’essere o l’uno o l’identico o il diverso, tranne  che in quanto se ne serve come d’ipotesi (').   Resta così chiarito che a un’unica scienza spetta la considerazione dell’ente in quanto ente, e di ciò che a esso appartiene in quanto ente, e che essa è la stessa che deve studiare  non soltanto le sostanze, ma anche tutto ciò che appartiene  a loro; e, oltre i concetti accennati dianzi, anche, che è quel  che precede e quel che segue, e il genere e la specie, e il  tutto e la parte, e tutto ciò che altre tali questioni riguarda.    CapirtoLo III.   Si deve ora accennare se la scienza di quelli che i matematici chiamano « assiomi  sia tutt’una con quella che tratta  della sostanza, oppure diversa. Evidentemente, anche l’indagine intorno ad essi appartiene a una scienza che è la stessa  di quella del filosofo, poichè essi valgono per tutti gli esseri,  e non sono una proprietà di qualche loro genere, ad esclusione degli altri. Tutti gli scienziati se ne servono, infatti,  perchè appartengono all’essere in quanto essere, e ciascun  genere di cose è essere; e se ne servono fin dove fà al loro  proposito, cioè fin dove si ends il genere di cose, intorno alate .    studio di essi sarà di pertinenza di chi fa o -del suo sapere l'essere in quanto essere. Perciò, appunto, nessuno di 2°       Se     Ipotesi: non in senso moderno (8° intende !), ima come assunzione di concetti  non dimostrati, che il geometra (e ogni scienziato, in fine) adopera senza discutere: «Il geometra fa uso (yefjta) di essi, non mostra (oò Bdeltac) che cosa sia  ciascuno di essi (Alesa, 264, 9). Il termine ritorna. coloro che-attendono-allo studio delle cose nella loro particolarità, s’azzarda di dir nulla di essi, se_gono. Veri o. Do.  Non ne dice “nulla il geometra nè l’aritmetico, e se alcuni  fisici (') si permisero di parlarne, essi fecero ciò con qualche  ragione, perchè credevano di esser i soli che facessero oggetto  d’investigazione la natura nella sua totalità e l’essere. Ma  c’è uno che sta ancora più su del fisico (chè la natura è uno  soltanto dei generi dell’essere), sì che anche lo studio di tali  assiomi spetta a chi medita in universale e intorno alla’ s0stanza prima. Certo, anche la Fisica è una sorta di sapienza,  ma non è la prima(?). E tutto ciò che alcuni(?) si sono  affaticati a dire della verità degli assiomi e in qual senso  bisogna ammetterli, prova appunto che non hanno studiato  gli Analitici. Chi si applica allo studio delle scienze deve  conoscerli già questi assiomi, e non chiederne la dimostrazione nel corso dello studio (‘).   Non e’ è dubbio, dunque, che anche la considerazione dei  principii sillogistici spetta al filosofo e a chi specula intorno  alla natura delle sostanze tutte. In ogni genere di cose, convien dire che possiede principii più saldi del suo oggetto  colui che ne ha maggior conoscenza: vien di conseguenza  che colui che ha la conoscenza degli enti in quanto enti,  deve possedere i principii più saldi di tutti. Questi è il filosofo.° E il principio più saldo di tutti è quello intorno al  quale è impossibile trovarsi in errore, poichè è necessario che  tale principio sia il più: noto di tutti (tutti errano, infatti,  intorno a quelle cose che non conoscono); e non deve aver        «Forse pensatori che svolsero elementi scettici di Eraclito, Empedocle,  Anassagora, Democrito  (Ro88).    Così anche in VI. 1. 1026 a, 24 e 30 ($ 7): la Metafisica è qriccogpia xq@rn,  la Fisica deutéga.    Sono i fisici ric. dianzi ? O, come sembra più probabile, Antistene? Cfr. qui  Cap. 4, 2; 5-2, ecc.; il nome è fatto in V. 29. 1024 b, 32 (S$ 2), e in VIII. 3. 1049b, 24  ($ 6). Ma mi par che non debba neppur escludersi un’interpolazione del passo.    La dimostrazione differisce dal sillogismo in quanto muove da principii  immediatamente certi e veri (dul punto di vista della scienza particolare): « Vero  © primo è quel che non per altro, ma per se stesso ha certezza: invero, dei principii scientifici non bisogna richieder la ragione, ma ognuno di essi deve esser  certo per Be stesso : Top., nulla d’ipotetico (‘): chè non può essere ipotetico quel principio senza del quale è impossibile che uno possa comprendere una qual si voglia delle cose che sono. La conoscenza  di esso è indispensabile a chiunque vuol conoscere una cosa  qualsiasi, ed è necessario che ne sia provvisto già chi viene  per imparare. Che dunque un principio tale'sia il più saldo  di tutti, non è chi non vegga. Quale poi esso sia, passiamo  a dirlo. i   È impossibile che la stessa cosa convenga e insieme non  convenga a una stessa cosa e per il medesimo rispetto (e  quante altre determinazioni potremmo aggiungere, si tengano  fatte a scanso delle difficoltà discorsive) (?). Questo è di tutti  i principii il più saldo: esso, infatti, ha i caratteri che dianzi  determinammo, poichè è impossibile che uno stesso pensi la  stessa cosa essere e non essere, secondo che alcuni credono  dicesse Eraclito (*). Vero è che non è necessario che tutto  quello che uno dice, lo pensi anche (‘). Ma non potendo i     Qui la parola ha un valore diverso dal precedente (per quanto resti in  comune il concetto di assunzione dogmatica, caratterizzata qui dalla particolarità dell'oggetto, piuttosto che dall'uso pratico), e agli effetti del pensiero può  esser inteso nel senso moderno che l’'oppone al «categorico  (a ciò che non presuppone nulla, perchè è incondizionatamente vero).    A scanso delle difficoltà discorsive, così come le consuete riserve più giù,  accennano ad argomentazioni che tendessero a metter in dubbio o ad impugnare  il principio così com'è formulato: per es., per il concetto del divenire, che avviene tra contrari, ecc. Più in là A. chiarisce, ad es., che i contrari sono insieme  in potenza, non in atto. i    A. attribuisce, dunque, l'opinione agli interpreti di E. più che ad I. stesso:  cfr. XI. 5, 7.    Qui il discorso è considerato verbalisticamente, non come pensiero.   Del celebre « principio di non contraddizione , chi ben consideri, s'avvedrà  che son date qui tre formule corrispondenti ai tre punti di vista dianzi accennati:  1) «non è possibile a uno di avere, o pensare, a un tempo, opinioni contrarie :  ch'è questione soggettiva; 2) «una stessa cosa non si può insieme affermare o  negare : ch'è questione logico-dialettica, della realtà veduta nell’atto del giudizio, che o pone il rapporto di convenienza del predicato al soggetto, o esclude  quel rapporto; 3) «i contrari non possono trovarsi insieme nella stessa cosa  (in  atto): ch'è questione dell'essere, i. e. dei principii reali, delle cose.   La giustificazione della prima formula è data dalla terza (non potendo è  contrari trovarsi insieme) e dalla seconda (e dacché un'opinione è contraria all'opinione contradittoria); quella della seconda, dalla terza (un'opinione è contraria all'opinione contradittoria) e dalla prima (poiché è impossibile che uno contrari trovarsi insieme nella stessa cosa (aggiungiamo anche  a questa proposizione le consuete riserve), e dacchè una opinione è contraria all'opinione contradittoria, è chiaro non  esser possibile che lo stesso uomo pensi che la stessa cosa  sia e insieme non sia: chi fosse in questo errore, avrebbe  a un tempo le opinioni contrarie. E però tutti i dimostranti  a questa riducono l’ultima opinione: essa, per la natura stessa  delle cose, è il principio anche di tutti gli altri assiomi.    CapitoLo IV (').    Pure, ci sono alcuni, come s’è accennato, i quali affermano  potersi dare che la stessa cosa sia e non sia, e poterla appunto pensare così. Fanno uso di questo modo di ragionare  molti anche dei fisici (°). Ma noi abbiamo stabilito che è im  stesso pensi la stessa cosa essere e non essere); quella della terza, al cap. 6 (8 12),  dalla seconda,la quale riacquista rispetto a essa l'indipendenza posta qui preliminarmente al s 6. Questa ha in A. il significato semplicemente di una condizione  necessaria per il conoscere e il sapere, ossia per il pensiero che pensa la realtà  itelle cose, perchà per l'intelligibilità, reale e logica, di queste è un presupposto  indispensabile la distinzione fra un concetto e l’altro, e in primo luogo fra concetti opposti, e, prima ancora, tra l'affermare e il negare. Il principio del mezzo,  o terzo, escluso integra, qui, il principio di non contraddizione, e lo sottrae,  anche per questa via, alla dipendenza immediata da quello di contrarietà, dove,  invece, quel mezzo esiste.   Quando, in seguito, fu aggiunto il principio d’identità, non soltanto si guadaguò in compiutezza formale, ma si vide meglio e il rapporto fra i tre principii  e il carattere puramente logico che ha questa parte della Metafisica aristotelica.  Naturalmente, nel formulismo scolastico si perdette, poi, gran parte dell'interesse  cho aveva la questione in A. per le conseguenze, a cui la negazione del principio  di non contraddizione portava rispetto al conoscere e al sapere, anzi rispetto alla  concezione e realtà dell'universo intero.   Comincia di qui la difesa del principio di non contraddizione contro coloro  che lo negano. Questi, sebbene la trattazione li mescoli di frequente, son tuttavia  abbastanza distinti in tre gruppi corrispondenti alla triplice formulazione del  principio: a) di coloro che l'impugnano per mera esercitazione eristica; bd) di coloro che, come i Protagorei più seri, si fondano su la natura propria della dora;  e) di coloro che, eraclitizzando, pongono l’unione degli opposti nella realtà stessa  delle cose.    Son nominati, nel capitolo seguente, Eraclito e i suoi seguaci, Empedocle,  Anassagora, Democrito. possibile essere e non essere insieme, e però dichiarammo  che quello è il più saldo di tutti i principii. Ed è effetto  d’ignoranza (‘) se alcuni reputano che anche quel principio  si debba dimostrare: chè no n altro che ignoranza è non sapere di quali cose bisogna chiedere la dimostrazione, e di  quali no. Che di tutto, assolutamente, ci sia dimostrazione,  è impossibile: si andrebbe all’infinito, sì che per tal modo  non ci sarebbe dimostrazione di nulla. Che se di alcune cose  non si deve esigere la dimostrazione, non riuscirà loro di  dire quale altro principio meglio di quello, a loro avviso, è tale.   Certo, anche di esso si può dimostrare, in via di confutazione (*), che è impossibile negarlo, solo che, chi lo mette  in dubbio, dica qualcosa. Che se non dicesse nulla, sarebbe  ridicolo andare in cerca di ragioni contro chi, in quanto non  ragiona (*), non ha ragioni di nulla. Un tale, in quanto tale,  sarebbe già simile a un tronco. Il dimostrare poi in via di  confutazione, io dico che differisce dal dimostrare vero e  proprio, perchè chi si accingesse a dimostrare lui quel principio mostrerebbe di presupporre ciò che deve dimostrare;  ma, qualora la colpa (‘) fosse di un altro, si tratterebbe di  una confutazione, e non di una dimostrazione.   In tutti i casi simili, la norma è di non pretendere che  l'avversario dica che una cosa è o non è (perchè egli obicetterebbe subito che si presuppone ciò che è da dimostrare);  ma che dia un significato a quel che dice, per sè e per gli  altri: e questo è pur necessario, se egli vuol dir qualcosa.  Altrimenti, costui non direbbe nulla, nè per suo proprio conto,  nè per gli altri. Che se, invece, lo concede, la dimostrazione  allora è possibile. Già, infatti, s'è per tal modo determinato  qualcosa. La colpa non è del dimostrante, sì di chi è costretto ad accettare la dimostrazione, perchè, mentre vuol     Cfr. dianzi (3, 3) per quelli che non hanno studiato gli Analitici.    La confutazione (é EXeyyxog) è una dimostrazione negativa o indiretta, che  si limita a portare all’assurdo la sentenza dell'avversario, o a purificarla dai fraintendimenti e sofismi ch'egli vi ha intrusi.   (9) Ho tentato di giustificare così le parole che il Christ vorrebbe espunte.    La colpa del circolo vizioso, che alcuno gli volesse addebitare. distruggere il ragionamento, è costretto a ragionare. Oltre  di che, chi ha fatta quella concessione, ha già concesso che  ci sia qualcosa che è vera senza dimostrazione, e che perciò  non ogni cosa è possibile che sia così e non così (').  Anzitutto è chiaro che questo alieno è vero: che le parole « essere e non-essere  hanno un significato ben determinato, per cui non ogni cosa è possibile che sia e non sia  così. Parimenti, se la parola « uomo  ha un significato solo:  sia esso quello di « animale bipede . Dicendo che ha un solo  significato, intendo che, se uomo vuol dir questo, ove ci  sia un essere che è uomo, esso sarà ciò che per uomo 8’è  definito. E non importa nulla se si obietta che di significati    ne ha parecchi, pur che vengano definiti; chè si può a ciascun 1006 b    concetto assegnare un nome diverso. Facciamo il caso che  si obiettasse che uomo non ha un solo, ma parecchi significati, e che la definizione animale-bipede vale per uno soltanto  di essi, laddove ce ne sono parecchi altri, ma in numero  determinato : ebbene, si dia un nome appropriato a ciascuno  di essi. Che se, per non far questo, si adducesse che i significati di quel nome sono infiniti, è manifesto che esso non  avrebbe più nessun senso, perchè, se non significa una cosa  determinata, è come se non significhi nulla; e quando le  parole non hanno senso, è tolta la possibilità di discorrere  con altri, anzi, propriamente, anche seco stesso: giacchè non  può neanche pensare chi non pensa una cosa determinata:  e se egli è in grado di pensare, dovrà anche dare un nome  unico alla cosa cui pensa.   Stabiliamo, quindi, che, come s'è detto da principio, ogni  parola significa qualcosa, anzi qualcosa di unico. Ora, esser-uomo non potrà significare lo stesso che non-esser-uomo,  se la parola uomo ha un significato non soltanto come predicato di un unico oggetto, ma in quanto significa essa stessa  un oggetto unico. Per noi, infatti, una parola ha un unico  significato, non in quanto si predica di un unico oggetto: C'è sospetto d’interpolazione nel testo: le ultime parole del periodetto,  ad es., son ripetute poche linee dopo. chè, a tal patto, musico e bianco e uomo significherebbero  la stessa cosa, e in conchiusione, designando con nomi diversi la stessa cosa, sarebbero tutti una cosa sola. Una stessa  cosa potrebbe essere e non essere soltanto nel caso di un  equivoco, qualora, ad es., quel che noi chiamiamo uomo,  altri lo chiamassero non-uomo. Quel che è in questione non  è già se lo stesso possa insieme essere e non essere uomo  di nome, ma di fatto. Se poi uomo significa lo stesso che  non-uomo ('), è chiaro che anche esser-uomo sarà lo stesso  che non-esser-uomo, per cui tra essere e non esser uomo,  essendo l’identica cosa, non ci sarebbe nessuna differenza.  Questo appunto vuol dire esser l’identica cosa; come chi  dicesse abito e vestito : chè il concetto è unico. Se fosse unico,  esser-uomo e non-esser-uomo significherebbero lo stesso. Ma  8’era mostrato che il loro significato è diverso. Se, dunque,  si deve poter dire qualcosa di vero, bisogna necessariamente  che, chi dice di uno che è uomo, intenda dire che è un animale bipede: questo era, infatti, ciò che la parola uomo significava. E se questo è necessario, non è possibile che quello  stesso non sia un animale bipede: chè questo appunto vuol  dire che una cosa è di necessi tà: esser impossibile che non  sia. Non si può dare, quindi, il caso che sia vero insieme  dire che uno stesso è uomo e non è uomo.   Il discorso vale anche per il non-esser-uomo. L’esser-uomo  esprime un’altra cosa dal non-esser-uomo, come del resto anche l’esser-bianco è diverso dall’esser-uomo: anzi, la opposizione tra i primi termini è anche maggiore, esprimendo  essi una cosa del tutto diversa. E se qualcuno ci volesse  sostenere che bianco e uomo significano una stessa e mede   Chiarisce il par. precedente, dove aminette che una cosa può essere e non  essere la stessa soltanto per un equivoco (il testo ha omonimia, usato qui, come  la sinonimia della 1. precedente, in senso alquanto diverso da quello stabilito in  nota a lib. I. 6, 5: qui si bada se uno intende con la stessa parola indicare concetti opposti, oppure lo stesso concetto con parole diverse). Se l'avversario vuol  dare alla parola «uomo  lo stesso senso di « non-uomo , deve anche identificare  il fatto e il concetto di «esser uomo  con quello opposto di « non-esser-uomo :  e venir meno, quindi, al patto (cfr. 11) di non dare a una stessa parola significati  diversi in confronto alle cose, sima ‘cosa, noi ripeteremo quel che abbiam detto prima: che  allora tutte le cose, e non soltanto gli opposti, fanno una  cosa sola ('). E se questo non può essere, pur che l’avversario risponda alle nostre domande, dovrà convenire in quel  che s’è detto.   Ma, se egli a una semplice interrogazione rispondesse aggiungendo anche delle negazioni, non risponderebbe propriamente a quel che si chiede (*). Niente impedisce che uno stesso  sia, oltre che uomo, bianco e innumerevoli altre cose; ma, interrogato se si può con verità dire che quello è un uomo o no,  egli deve rispondere soltanto ciò che la parola significa, e  non aggiungere che è anche bianco e grande; poichè, essendo  infiniti gli accidenti, è impossibile percorrerli tutti, si che o  li citi tutti o non ne citi nessuno. Se anche lo stesso è uomo  e diecimil’altre cose diverse da uomo, egli non deve rispondere, a chi gli domanda se uno è uomo, che è uomo, sì, ma  insieme anche non-uomo: a meno che non intenda di aggiungerli tutti gli accidenti: quante altre cose, cioè, l’uomo è o  non è. Che se si mettesse per questa via, non c’è più modo  di discutere,   In somma, quei che si mettono per questa via, vengono  a sopprimere la sostanza e la pura essenza di ogni cosa,  perchè son costretti ad affermare tutto esser accidentale, e  che non esiste un concetto tale, quale quello di uomo o di  animale. Se ci fosse, infatti, un concetto tale, quale quello  di uomo, esso non potrebbe essere quello di non-uomo, 0  quello di non esser uomo: e questi sono pure negazione di    PI     Se non si concede che nomo= bianco, tanto meno si può concedere che  momo = non-uomo. Se si concede, non soltanto gli opposti, ma tutto è la stessa  cosa, e non c'è modo di parlar più di nulla,    «Sarebbe assurdo che. interrogato sè Socrate è uomo, rispondesse che è  anche .non-cavallo e non-cane : Alessandro (284, 32). Ovvero, riferisse la negazione  agli accidenti: « est enìm v. g. albus, musicus, etc.; quae omnia in ambitu notionis non-homo continentur: Bonitz, p, 199. Ma anche le prime negazioni si  possono riguardare come accidentali, se sì bada, non alla sostanza propriamente,  ma alla definizione di uomo.  L’avversario deve rispondere con un sì, o con un  no (ovvero ripetendo semplicemente il nome, o premettendogli la negazione:  uomo, non-uomo).  quello ('). Non s’era d’intesa che esso aveva un solo significato, e che questo era la sostanza della cosa? Ma esprimere  la sostanza di una cosa vuol dire che questa, e non altra, è la  sua essenza. E se c’è qualcosa che ha l’essenza di uomo,  essa non potrà coincidere con quella che non ha tale essenza,  o con quella che ha l’essenza di non-uomo.   Costoro son costretti a dire che tale concetto non è concetto di nulla, ma che tutto è accidentale (*). Poichè in  questo si distingue la sostanza dall’accidente: l’esser bianco  è accidentale per l’uomo, perchè egli è, sì, bianco, ma non  è bianco per l’essenza. Ma se tutto si affermasse in via accidentale, non ci sarebbe più niente di primo a far da soggetto:  eppure l’accidente esprime sempre la categoria di un qualche  sostrato. Si andrebbe, necessariamente, all'infinito: il che è  impossibile. Anche perchè ogni connessione è soltanto tra  due termini (*). L’accidente, infatti, non può essere accidente  di un accidente, salvo in quanto entrambi sono accidenti di  uno stesso soggetto. Voglio dire, per es.: il bianco è musico,  e il musico è bianco, in quanto entrambi sono accidenti di  uomo. Ma Socrate non è musico a questa maniera, come  entrambi i termini fossero accidenti di un terzo. Questi accidenti, dunque, sono predicati in due maniere diverse. Quelli  che si predicano così, come il bianco di Socrate, non possono  formare una serie che proceda all’infinito: ad es., di Socrate,  che è bianco, predicare un qualche altro accidente, e così  via via: chè, dall'unione di questi accidenti, non verrebbe  fuori un’unità ('). E neppure del bianco si può dire che ci     Il che non avverrebbe se, come l’avversario sostiene, la negazione fosse  vera quanto l’affermazione.  Sul valore della negazione, talvolta riguardata nella  c. d. copula, tal’altra nel predicato del giudizio, e sul rapporto tra la forma  affermativa e quella negativa in A., v. G. Catocero. în Giorn. critico della fil.  ital., VII (1926), fasc. 5.    Se non è concetto (esseuza) di nulla, ma si può attribuire, insieme al  contrario, a qualcosa (x è uomo € non-uomo, nello stesso modo che l’uomo può  esser bianco e non bianco), sarà, dunque, non sostanza, ma accidente.    Il soggetto e il predicato.    Dall’unione degli accidenti non vien fuori l'unità del reale, se questa non  è raggiunta già con la posizione del primo accidente, col quale la sostanza forma sia un‘altro accidente da predicare, per es., musico, perchè  questo non è un accidente di quello più che quello di questo.   Resti con ciò determinato che di accidentalità si può parlare in due maniere: o come in quest’ultimo esempio, o come  musico si predica di Socrate, nel qual caso l’accidente non  è predicato accidentalmente di un altro accidente, come era  l’altro caso. In conchiusione, non tutto potrà essere affermato  come accidente, e deve quindi esserci anche qualcosa che si  riguardi come sostanza. Se così è, riman chiarito che è impossibile predicarne insieme concetti contradittorii.   Inoltre, se i contradittorii si potessero predicare sempre  insieme, con verità, dello stesso,  chi non vede che tutte  le cose diventerebbero una sola? Sarebbe, infatti, lo stesso  e una trireme e un muro e un uomo, una volta che una cosa  si può tanto affermare che negare di ogni cosa. Che è una  conseguenza inevitabile per coloro che ripetono il ragionamento di Protagora: poichè, se ad alcuno pare che l’uomo  non sia una trireme, è chiaro che non è una trireme; ma,  se la contradittoria è vera, ne consegue che egli è anche una  trireme. Si va alla sentenza di Anassagora: tutte le cose sono  tutto insieme. Per cui, niente si può predicare con verità di  nulla. Si ha l'impressione che essi parlino dell’indeterminato;  e pur credendo di parlare dell’essere, parlano, invece, del  non essere: chè l’indeterminato è l’essere in potenza ('), non  quello in atto. E in vero, costoro si trovano nella necessità di  dire che di ogni cosa si può affermare o negare ogni altra. Sarebbe infatti assurdo che, mentre a ogni cosa deve convenire  la sua negazione, non le dovesse poi convenire quella di  un’altra che già non conviene a essa. Voglio dire che, se è  vero dir dell’uomo che è anche non-uomo, è chiaro che deve    «un che determinato . In altri termini: non dall’enumerazione degli accidenti,  a volta a volta incorporati al soggetto, si ha da attendere l'unità di esso.   L'altro modo di predicazione è quello in cui la serie non gira attorno al soggetto, ma fa une catena da accidente ad accidente.    L'indeterminato è l’essere in potenza, nel quale i contrari sono insieme;    non quello in atto, nel quale la potenza (ch’è un non-essere-ancora) vien determinata. esser vero anche dire tanto che è trireme, quanto che è nontrireme. Intanto, se l’affermativa (che è trireme) fosse concessa, di necessità sarebbe concessa anche la negativa. Ma  poniamo che l’affermativa non sia concessa; tuttavia Ja negativa di questa gli dovrebbe convenire meglio di quella sua.  Ora, dacchè quest’ultima gli conviene, gli converrà anche  quella di trireme; e convenendogli questa, gli conviene anche  l’affermativa di essa (').   A queste conseguenze arrivano coloro che sostengono tale  dottrina. E a quest’altra, anche: che nulla è necessario o  affermare o negare. Infatti, se è vero che l’uomo è uomo e  non-uomo, è chiaro che sarà vero anche che egli non è nè  uomo nè non-uomo: poichè alla doppia affermativa corrisponde  la doppia negativa, e se là delle due affermazioni se ne fa  una sola, una sola sarà anche questa opposta.   Proseguiamo: o, quel ch’essi dicono, vale per tutte le cose,  o no: nel primo caso, ogni cosa bianca è anche non bianca,  quel che è anche non è, e similmente per le altre affermazioni  e negazioni; nel secondo caso, se esso non vale per tutte,  ma per alcune sì e per altre no, per queste ultime anch'essi  son d’accordo che il loro principio non vale. Se, invece,  vale per tutte, da capo: o di tutte quelle di cui si afferma  qualcosa, questo si può anche negare, e viceversa; ovvero,  di quelle di cui si afferma qualcosa, questo si può unche  negare, ma non di tutte quelle di cui si nega qualcosa, questo si può anche affermare. In quest’ultimo caso, si avrebbe  un punto fermo, un non-essere, e questa sarebbe già una     Accogliendo (1007 b, 33) la lezione del cod. fiorentino Ab (come il Ross  propone), e riordinando un po'il testo, il ragionamento risulta così: A. sostiene  che se, poniamo, di Socrate si può predicare insieme uomo e non-uomo, allora  di lui si può affermare o negare ogni altra cosa indifferentemente: per es., ch'è  trireme e non-trireme, Se, dunque, l'avversario concedesse ch'è trireme, dovrebbe  concedere (secondo il suo principio onde si può affermare anche la contradittoria)  ch’è anche non-trireme. Ma poniamo, dice A., che «l'affermativa non sia concessa. Egli dovrà, almeno, concedere la negativa, perchè «sarebbe assurdo che,  mentre a uomo conviene la negazione di uomo, non gli convenisse quella di  trireme: anzi, gli deve convenire anche meglio, perchò è la negazione di qualcosa che già si pone non convenire a esso . Ma, concessa questa, deve poi concedere anche l’affermativa: che è trireme. salda opinione; ma, se il non-essere è qualcosa di saldo e  conosciuto, tanto più sarà tale l’affermazione (‘) opposta. Ma  poniamo, invece, che di tutte quelle di cui si nega qualcosa,  questo si possa anche affermare: allora, di necessità, o è nel  vero chi tiene separate le due parti, e dice, ad es., che una  cosa è bianca, e poi che non è bianca; ovveroè nel falso.  Se per essere nel vero le deve tener unite, costui disdice ciò  che dice, ed è come non esistesse niente. O come poi parlerebbe e camminerebbe ciò che neppure esiste? (?). E tutte  le cose sarebbero una sola, come anche prima s’è detto, e  sarebbe lo stesso e uomo e Dio e trireme e i loro contradittorii. Chè, se di ciascuna cosa si può ripeter questo, l’una  non differirà dall’altra: se differisse, essa avrebbe già qualcosa di proprio, e questa sarebbe la sua verità. Alla stessa  conchiusione si perviene dicendo che è nel vero chi tiene  separate le parti contradittorie (9). Ne deriva, anzi, anche  questo: che tutti dicono vero e tutti dicono falso, e però concede che dice falso anche lui.   Evidentemente, con costui non si può discuter di nulla,  perchè non dice nulla: non dice mai che è così, o non così,  ma sempre che è così e non così (‘); e poi, negando ambedue  queste cose, che non è nè così nè non così. Se parlasse altrimenti, ci sarebbe già qualcosa di determinato. Che se, poi,  ci si facesse concedere che, quando l’affermativa è vera, la  negazione è falsa, e che, quando è vera questa, l’altra è falsa,  non sarebbe più vero che si può nello stesso tempo affermare  e negare la stessa cosa. Ma, senza dubbio, tutti direbbero  che questa è una petizione di principio.   In fine, diremo che sono in errore quelli che pensano che  una cosa sta, oppure non sta, in un certo modo, e che invece  è nel vero chi le pensa tutte due quelle opinioni? Che se  costui non dice neppure di esser nel vero, o che cosa vor   «Per mezzo dell’atfermazione la negazione è più conoscibile; chè l'affermazione è prima, come l’essere è prima del non essere : Anal. Post., I. 25. 86 b, 34.    Qui, l’uomo di cui si parla (e colui stesso che parla).   (9) Come se fossero due persone diverse a sostenerle.    Similmente in Teeteto. rebbe dire la sua asserzione che la natura delle cose è proprio così fatta? ('). E se non pretende di dir giusto, ma di  dire più giusto di chi la pensa in quell’altro modo, ecco che  le cose starebbero già in un certo modo, e questa sarebbe la  verità, e non già vero e falso insieme. E se ribatte che tutti  sono nel falso e nel vero ugualmente, a costui non è più lecito  aprir bocca a parlare: perchè dice nello stesso tempo Sì e no.  E se non ha nessuna opinione, ma crede e non crede del  pari, quale differenza c’è tra lui e le piante?   Da ciò si vede benissimo che nessuno, non solo gli altri,  ma neppure chi fa questi discorsi, è persuaso che così stiano  le cose. O perchè mai va egli a Megara, e non se ne sta tranquillo a casa pensando di camminare? (?). E perchè un bel  mattino non va diritto a gettarsi in un pozzo o, se gli càpita, giù da un precipizio, anzi si vede bene che se ne guarda,  proprio come se pensasse che non sia tanto buono quanto  non buono il caderci? È dunque chiaro che crede l’una  cosa migliore e l’altra peggiore. Ma se è così, deve convenire anche che una cosa è uomo e un’altra non-uomo, una  cosa è il dolce e un’altra il non-dolce. Egli non mette tutto alla  pari quando pensa ad avere qualcosa che cerca; ma, avendo  pensato che per lui è meglio ber dell’acqua o vedere qualcuno, va in cerca proprio di quello. Eppure doveva mettere  tutto alla pari, se uomo e non-uomo fosse la stessa cosa. Invece, come abbiamo detto, non c’è nessuno che non si vegga  guardarsi da alcune cose e da altre no. Non pare, dunque,     Intendo: Chi dice che la verità è nella contraddizione, riconosca almeno  che c'è questo che diciamo la verità. O non vorrà neppur riconoscer questo? Ma,  allora, che cosa intende quando asserisce che la natura delle cose è così fatta,  che in essa (secondo la sentenza di Eraclito) i contrari son sempre uniti? ecc.   Tralasciando il pi della 1. 9, come consiglia il Ross, il senso verrebbe trasformato così: Se egli ritiene di esser nel vero, che vuol dire che la natura è così  fatta? In essa non si dovrebbe parlare di «essere, nè di esser essa l’una cosa  piuttosto che l’altra (chè tutto è e non è, ed ogni cosa è ogni altra).    Non è lo stesso per lut camminare e non camminare. Ovvero, se col  Ross si aggiunge il deiv (da Ab e Aless.): non è lo stesso per lui dover, 0 no,  andar a Megara. Quest'argomentazione, presa dal meglio e dal peggio, è già  in Teeteto. che ci possa esser dubbio: tutti credono che le cose stanno  assolutamente in un modo, se non tutte, almeno quelle che  riguardano il meglio e il peggio. E se lo credono(‘), non  per scienza, ma per opinione, tanto più dovrebbero esser  solleciti della verità, così come deve curar la salute più chi  è malato del sano: e infatti, chi opina, al paragone di chi  sa, è in una disposizione non sana in rispetto alla verità.   Finalmente, sia pure che tutte le cose stiano così e anche  non così. Ma in natura c’è il più e il meno in ogni cosa:  noi non diremmo che il tre è pari nella stessa misura del  due, e credere che il quattro valga cinque non è un errore  uguale a quello di chi crede che valga mille. Ora, se l’errore  non è uguale, manifestamente uno dei due erra di meno, e  però è nel vero più dell’altro. Ma se è più nel vero, al vero  è più vicino, e ci sarà quindi una verità a cui è più vicino  chi è più nel vero. E anche se tale verità non c’è,  ma,  insomma, c'è almeno qualcosa che ha maggiore o minore  fondamento e certezza, e questo basta a liberarci (?) da un  discorso che non si lascia ridurre in termini di pensiero e  impedisce di determinar nulla. Il ragionamento di Protagora deriva anch’esso da questa  opinione, e però la sorte dell'uno è necessariamente legata  a quella dell’altra. Poichè, se tutto quello che si crede e appare, è vero, ogni cosa di necessità è vera e falsa insieme.  Di fatto, gli uomini hanno, per lo più, opinioni contrarie le  une alle altre, e tuttavia stimano che sia in errore chi non  la pensa come loro: per cui è necessario che la stessa cosa  sia e non sia. Viceversa, se si concede questo, vien di con   Se lo credono, il meglio e il peggio.    Come nella precedente invocazione della testimonianza dell'azione, così  nelle ultime parole si può notare un senso della verità come di un bisogno che  il soggetto ha di essa per se stesso. seguenza che tutte le opinioni sono vere. Poichè le opinioni  di chi è in errore e quelle di chi è nel vero, sono tra loro  opposte; ma se tale è l'essere delle cose, tutti saranno nel  vero. È chiaro, dunque, che i due ragionamenti svolgono.  lo stesso pensiero (‘).   Tuttavia, a combatterli, non si ha da prendere la stessa  strada per tutti: con alcuni ci vuole la; persuasione, con altri  la sopraffazione (*). Non è difficile curare l’ignoranza di coloro che s’indussero a credere così in sèguito a dubbi e difficoltà, giacchè per essi si ha che fare, non con parole, ma  col pensiero. Invece, a curar quelli che giuocano di parole  non c’è altra via che confutarne il discorso letteralmente, in  quanto è di parole espresse con suoni.   Coloro che in sèguito a dubbi e difficoltà vennero nell’opinione che le asserzioni contradittorie e i contrari possono  stare insieme, mossero dalla osservazione delle cose sensibili,  dove una stessa causa produce effetti contrari. Ora, se quello  che non è non può generarsi, il fatto preesistente era già ambedue i contrari insieme. Anche Anassagora dice similmente  che tutto si trova mescolato in tutto, e Democrito, anche  lui, insegna che il vuoto e il pieno si trovano in ogni particella alla pari, sebbene l’uno di essi sia un ente, e l’altro  un non-ente.   A coloro, dunque, che fondano su queste ragioni la loro  sentenza, noi diremo che in un senso parlano giusto, ma in  un altro ignorano come stanno le cose. In realtà, dicendosi  l'essere in due sensi, in uno di questi qualcosa può generarsi  dal non-ente, ma rell’altro non può (*); ed è possibile che     Partendo, l'uno, dall'oggetto; l'altro, dal soggetto (dall’opinione).    Sopraffazione: col ragionamento, Cfr. Top., I. 12. 105 a, 16: « L’induzione  è più persuasiva...  ma il sillogismo stringe di più, ed ha maggior forza contro  quei che contraddicono ,    Poichè l'essere si dice o in atto o in potenza, così c'è un modo di essere  (in potenza) ch'è anche un modo di non essere (in atto). (Il puro non-essere non  ha realtà: il non essere è un momento di sviluppo dell'essere, che, come pura  essenza, è già, nel concetto, almeno, se non nella realtà temporale). E come per  la sostanza, così per le sue determinazioni secondarie: «sic, enim, tepidum est  in potentia calidum et frigidum, neutrum tamen actu: S. Tom. ($ 667). (Qui, una stessa cosa si trovi ad essere e a non essere insieme,  ma non per lo stesso rispetto: poichè in potenza i contrari  possono essere insieme, ma non in atto.   Inoltre, li inviteremo a persuadersi che c’è anche un’altra sostanza degli esseri, la quale non è per nulla affatto s0ggetta a movimento, nè a nascita o corruzione.   Dalle sensazioni muove parimenti l’opinione di alcuni che  la verità sia di ciò che appare ('). Essi stimano che a giudicare del vero non convenga rimettersene alla maggioranza  o alla minoranza. La stessa cosa, essi dicono, al gusto di  aleuni pare dolce, ad altri amara: sì che, se tutti ammalassero o impazzissero, e soltanto due o tre rimanessero sani  e in cervello, costoro sembrerebbero malati e pazzi, e non gli  altri. Inoltre, a molti altri animali le stesse cose appaiono al  contrario che a noi; anzi a ciascuno di noi singolarmente,  stando alla sensazione, le cose non sembrano sempre le stesse.  Quali, quindi, di esse siano vere o false, ci è nascosto: queste  non hanno maggior diritto di quelle alla verità, ma uguale.  Perciò, appunto, Democrito afferma che o non c’è nulla di  vero, o, almeno, ci è nascosto. In somma, se essi insegnano  che quel che appare al senso è necessariamente vero, ciò  avviene perchè ritengono per ammesso che l’intelligenza si  riduca alla sensazione, e questa a un’alterazione (?). Se ed  Empedocle e Democrito e, in breve, ciascuno degli altri si  trovarono prigionieri di tali dottrine, ciò non avvenne per  altro motivo. Dice, infatti, Empedocle che chi cambia abito,  cambia intelligenza:    Quali le sue condizioni, tale cresce l’uomo per senno;    veramente, si tratta non di un non-essere-ancora, in opposizione a un essere-giù;  ma di un modo dell’essere che è già, del sostrato, che può ricevere ambedue le  determinazioni contrarie, ed è, quindi, per se stesso potenza di contrari),    tà parvépeva: non si dia un senso troppo soggettivo all'espressione (non  esatto il Bonitz, p. 201: «quidquid cuique videatur ).    Alterazione (mutamento qualitativo), che subisce l'organo del senso da  parte dell'oggetto.    1009 b    1010 a    122 METAFISICA    e altrove:    Tanto essi si mutano, e tanto si rinnovano  sempre anche i loro pensieri.    E Parmenide si esprime nello stesso modo,    Quale in ciascun uomo è la temperie delle membra flessibili,  tale è la sua mente. Essa è appunto   quel che pensa negli uomini, in tutti e in ognuno:   la natura de’ loro organi: quel che in essa prevale è il pensiero .    E si suole ricordare anche un detto di Anassagora ad alcuni suoi scolari: che le cose sarebbero per essi tali, quali  piacesse loro di crederle (?). Dicono che anche Omero sembra  di questa opinione, perchè imaginò che Ettore, quando per  la ferita uscì di sè, giacesse «altro pensando: quasi che  anche coloro che sono fuori di senno pensassero, sebbene non  alle stesse cose: è chiaro, dunque, dicono, che se pensiero  c’è in un caso e nell’altro, anche le cose sono insieme così  e non così.   Il pericolo maggiore è nelle conseguenze: se coloro che  hanno guardato più a fondo quel che può essere il vero  (e tali sono quelli che più di tutti lo cercano e lo amano),  proprio essi, hanno opinioni di questo genere, e in questo  modo si esprimono su la verità,  con quale animo i principianti sì metteranno a filosofare? Il cercare la verità sarebbe un correr dietro alle nuvole!   A tale opinione essi arrivarono perchè cercavano bensì  la verità nella realtà, ma reali reputavano soltanto le cose  sensibili: ora, in queste ha gran parte l’indeterminato, e anche l’essere, ma nel significato che dicemmo (*). Perciò il loro     Cfr. Diela. Sembra ad alcuni che A. forzi  troppo il pensiero di costoro col farne dei sensisti. Ma è anche vero ch'essi non  distinguono il sensibile dall’intelligibile, 0, se distinguono, fanno del pensiero  quasi un senso superiore: come dimostrano i versi citati.    Buone o cattive, a seconda della disposizione d'animo. Cioè, potenziale. Per Epicarmo, non si conosce a quale giudizio di lui  contro Senofane, A. qui alluda. discorso ha somiglianza col vero, ma non è vero. E c’è maggior proprietà a parlar di loro così, che non come Epicarmo  contro Senofane.   Un altro motivo della loro opinione era questo: vedendo  che tutto in questo mondo si muove, e ritenendo che del mutevole non ci sia nulla da dire di vero, conchiusero che neppure  è possibile parlare con verità di un mondo che sempre e in  tutti i modi si muta. Da questa constatazione germogliò l’opinione più estrema in questo argomento, quella di coloro che  professano di « eraclitizzare , quale aveva anche Cratilo:  questi finì col credere che non si debba parlare, e moveva  il dito solamente, e biasimava Eraclito per aver detto che  non è possibile immergersi due volte nello stesso fiume: £  suo avviso, neppure una volta è possibile. Ma noi anche contro questo ragionamento risponderemo che certamente quel  che muta, mentre muta, dà loro qualche ragionevole motivo  di credere al suo non essere. Eppure c’è da discuterne; poichè, l’oggetto che perde una proprietà, conserva ancora qualcosa di ciò che perde, ed è già necessariamente qualcosa di  ciò che diviene. E in generale: se qualcosa si corrompe, deve  continuare a essere qualcosa; e se qualcosa si genera, di  necessità dev’esserci ciò da cui si genera, e che lo genera;  e questo processo non può andare all’infinito. E anche lasciando questo da parte, noi diciamo che non è la stessa cosa  il mutare nella quantità e il mutare nella qualità: per la  quantità, sia pure che non ci sia al mondo nulla di permanente; ma noi conosciamo tutte le cose per la forma. À quelli che la pensano a quel modo, noi non possiamo  fare a meno di rimproverare che, limitandosi a un piccolo  numero di osservazioni, pur nella cerchia stessa delle cose  sensibili, i lor pronunziati estesero all'universo intero. Se la Cratilo, ricordato già in I. 6, 1 come maestro di Platone. Il passaggio è, dunque, sempre dall’essere all'essere: poichè per A. è  l'essere che spiega il divenire, non viceversa. La pura essenza non diviene, e  questa è forma che spiega il mutare delle cose (qualitativamente: qualità, qui,  è il punto di viste formale, della sostanza e delle sue determinazioni conoscitive,  opposto a quello meramente materiale della quantità). regione del sensibile, che ci circonda, è in perpetuo nascere  e perire, tale, tuttavia, è essa soltanto, e rispetto al tutto è  una piccola parte, che conta, si può dire, niente: sì che sarebbe molto più giusto in grazia del tutto assolvere questa  parte dalle sue mancanze, piuttosto che a cagion di questa  condannare il tutto. Inoltre, potremo evidentemente indirizzare anche a costoro le stesse considerazioni fatte addietro.  Bisogna mostrare anche a costoro, € persuaderli, che esiste  una natura immobile. In fine, costoro che dicono ogni  cosa essere e non essere insieme, se fossero conseguenti, dovrebbero affermare che tutto è quieto, piuttosto che in movimento: chè, se tutto è in tutto, non c’è più niente in cui  qualcosa possa mutarsi. I cieli sono incorruttibili, e al di sopra di essi Dio e le Intelligenze  motrici son fuori di ogni specie di movimento. His igitur rationibus A. removisse sibi videtur eas causas, quae quosdam ad recusandum principium contradietionis impellerent: quae quam non sufficiant in prompt u est intelligere. Ac  primo quidem argumento quod mutationem ad essentiam redigere studet, facile  est videre eum, dissecta in partes quasdam mutatione, ea spectare, in quibus vel  coepta nondum sit vel iam absoluta inutatio, nec vero ipsum illud, quod mutatur,  quatenus mutatur. Altero argumento, quod speciem ac formam rerum ac per eam  certum cognitionis fundamentum manere contendit, confidendum quidem est in  nullo mutationis genere ex Aristotelis decretis ipsam formam vel fieri vel mutari; sed ita, non sublata est, verum translata in alium locum dubitatio de mutatione. Reliquie argumentis quod in angustiores fines ‘mutationis ambitum studet  includere, nihil videtur ad refutandos adversarios efficere: sive, enim, latius patet  mutatio sive minus late, quatenus invenitur, eatenus principium contradictionis  tamquam universale principium tollit: propositio enim universalis unius propositionis singularis instantia tollitur. His scopulis hoc loco, ubi mutationis mentio  necessaria non erat, propterea illidit A., quiaprinelpium contradictionis non de  notionibus, sed de rebus valere posuit : Bonlitz, pp. 204-5.   Ma lo spirito dell’argomentazione aristotelica non è colto, così. Qui A. difende  il suo principio contro l’indebita ipostatizzazione della negazione assoluta, propria del pensiero discorsivo, insieme e al pari dell'affermazione, nella realtà e  intelligibilità delle cose, le quali verrebbero, così, negate non soltanto nel loro  essere determinato, ma anche nel loro divenire: come il par. seguente (18) mostra  chiaramente. (Di vero, tuttavia, della critica, resta questo: che quella realtà e  intelligibilità è affermata, nel suo essere e divenire, con procedimento analitico,  prima o dopo del suo attuarsi, non nel suo attuarsi, in cui l’opposizione passa  dalla forma astratta a quella concreta dell'essere che diviene in quanto assorbe  in sè la propria negazione. Quel procedimento, quindi, porta A. a vedere lo sviluppo dell'essere come già attuato e irrigidito nelle forme dell'essere universale,  dal mondo sensibile soggetto a corruzione a quello pur sensibile ma incorruttibile,  e da questo a quello sottratto a ogni forma del divenire). In quanto, poi, alla verità di ciò che appare, che, cioè, 1010 b  non tutto ciò che appare è vero, noi osserviamo anzitutto  che l’atto del sentire non è per nulla falso quando è dell’oggetto suo proprio, ma la fantasia non è la stessa cosa della   20 sensazione ('). C'è, quindi, proprio da stupire al sentirli discutere se le grandezze e i colori siano realmente quali appaiono da lontano o quali appaiono da vicino, e se le cose  siano quali appaiono ai malati o quali appaiono ai sani, e  se siano più o meno pesanti secondo che uno è robusto o è  fiacco, e se la verità sia di quelli che dormono o di quei che  son desti. Che in realtà non abbiano questi dubbi, è palese:  nessuno, per lo meno, se, di notte, imagina di essere in  Atene, mentre è in Libia, s'incammina verso l’Odeone. Ag 21 giungi, quel che già Platone osservava, che intorno all’avvenire, se, ad es., un malato guarirà o no, non è davvero  ugualmente autorevole l'opinione di un medico e quella di un     «Quod Protagorei contendunt verum esse quod cuique de qualibet re  videatur, hoc placitum in fines longe artiores est restringendum: illud, enim,  vere contendi licet sensum quemlibet non falli in percipiendis rebus ipsi proprie  subiectis; at phantasia, quam Protagorei, quum tò parvépevov dicunt verum esse,  veritatia faciunt indicem ac testem, differt a sensu : Bonitz, p. 205.   Il Ross suggerisce un’altra interpretazione, onde il passo verrebbe trasformato così: Quanto alla verità di ciò che appare, noi osserviamo che non tutto  ciò che appare è vero: anzitutto, se anche, come essi dicono, la sensazione non  è falsa, quando però sia di un oggetto appropriato a un senso, ecc.  Migliore,  sembra, l’interpretazione del B., che non rischia dl prestare all'avversario la  tlottrina di A. intorno aî sensibili propri. Per questa, cfr. De An., II. 6. 418 a, 8:  « Sì dice sensibile in tre sensi: in due dei quali si parla del sentire per sè,  nell’altro per accidente. Dei due primi modi di sentire, uno è proprio di ciascun  senso, l’altro è comune a tutti. Dico proprio ciò che non può esser sentito per  altro senso, è intorno al quale non è possibile cadere in errore: così il colore  rispetto alla vista, e il suono rispetto all’udito, il sapore rispetto al gusto. Ciascun senso discerne intorno a essi, e non può ingannarsi in quanto colori 0 suoni,  ma solo intorno alla cosa colorata o al luogo, ecc. . In questo, ch’ è piuttosto un  inferire che un percepire (e così se un senso pretende di giudicare dell'oggetto  di un altro senso), il senso può ingannare.  La fantasia era stata da Platone  trattata come la stessa cosa della sensazione (Teeteto, 152 c). A. la distingue dal  senso e dal pensiero discorsivo, benchè non sorga senza la sensazione, e senza  di essa non ci sia l’opinione. Essa tramezza, dunque, tra l’una e l’altra: appartiene alla parte sensibile dell'anima, ma è attiva e indipendente dall'oggetto  attuale come il pensiero. Cfr. De An., ignorante ('). E anche per le sensazioni, non è ugualmente  autorevole la sensazione di un oggetto che è proprio di un  senso e quella di un oggetto estraneo, la sensazione dell’oggetto attuale e quella di un oggetto vicino (*). Invece: del  colore giudica la vista, non il gusto; del sapore, il gusto,  non la vista. E ogni sensazione, nel tempo stesso e intorno  allo stesso oggetto, non dice mai che una cosa sta così e non  così ; e anche in tempi diversi, la questione non cade  propriamente su la qualità, ma su l’oggetto a cui essa conviene: dico, ad es., che lo stesso vino può bene parere una  volta dolce e un’altra no, o perchè s’è mutato esso, o perchè  s’è mutato il nostro organo; ma la qualità del dolce, quale  essa è, quando è, non muta mai: il senso ne dice sempre  il vero, e quel che dovrà esser dolce, sarà sempre dolce in  questo modo (‘). A dir vero, proprio questo vogliono distruggere i sostenitori di tutte queste dottrine, e in quel modo che  negano la realtà di ogni sostanza, così per essi non c’è nulla  al mondo di necessario: poichè necessario è ciò che non può  essere ora in un modo, ora in un altro, sì che se qualcosa  esiste di necessità, non potrà essere così e non così (°).   E in somma, se solo ciò ch’è sensibile può esistere, qualora non ci fossero animali, non esisterebbe nulla: chè non  ci sarebbe sensazione. Ebbene, dire che nè le qualità sensibili,     Per questi due paragrafi, cfr. Teeteto, 157 e 8.; 1710, 178c s, Ma giusto, per  queste e altre concordanze, lo Schwegler (p. 180): A. attinge direttamente dalla  protagorea ’AAntea, indipendentemente dai giudizi di Platone.    Intenderei così le parole invano, mi sembra, tormentate anche da altri:  toù rimolov xal toù ati; (Aless.: la sensazione di un oggetto vicino è più sicura  che quella di un oggetto distante; Bullinger e Goebel, cit. in Ross: la sensazione  dell'oggetto proprio è più sicura che quella di un oggetto di un senso affine; ecc.).    La sensazione (l’atto del percepire) è già conoscenza per A., come si notò  a I, 1, 4, e però soggetta alla stessa legge di non-contraddizione del pensiero.    L'attributo o qualità, per sè, non muta e non passa nel suo contrario: il  dolce (la dolcezza) non diventa amaro: quel che muta è il sostrato, che può passare da un contrario all’altro (o agli intermedi). Nota, anche qui, l’irrigidimento  del reale in forme definitorie (come in Platone).   (5) La ragione del predetto irrigidimento è nella preoccupazione, che A. hu  qui in comune col suo maestro, di combattere le dottrine protagoree portanti alla  negazione di ogni realtà su cui il pensiero possa posare con la certezza della  propria validità. nè le sensazioni (‘') esistono, forse è anche giusto, in quanto  queste altro non sono che affezioni del senziente; ma è impossibile che, anche senza la sensazione, non esistano tuttavia i sostrati che la producono. Infatti, Ja sensazione non è sensazione  di se stessa (*), ma c’è, oltre di essa, anche qualcos'altro, che,  necessariamente, è prima di essa: ciò che muove è per natura  anteriore a ciò ch’è mosso. E se anche si obietta che essi  sono in relazione di reciprocità, la cosa non è men vera. Ci sono alcuni  e tra quelli che son persuasi di ciò che dicono, e tra gli altri che fan questione di parole soltanto   i quali muovono una difficoltà: essi voglion sapere chi sarà  poi a decidere se uno sia sano e, in generale, se uno intorno     Mi par giusto tornare alla volgata: uite và aloîntà (le qualità sensibili,  qui: non le cose stesse) pinTe tà alcèf pate. Poichè non è conforme alla dottrina  più chiara di A. porre come esistente il sensibile fuori della sensazione (in atto  o in potenza): cfr. De An., III. 2. 425 Db, 26: « L’atto del sensibile e della sensazione è identico, ma l’esser loro non è il medesimo: dico, per es., del suono in  atto e dell'udito in atto. Poichè è possibile posseder l'udito e non udire, e ciò  ch'è sonoro non sempre rende suono. Ma quando ciò che ha potenza di udire, è  in atto, e ciò che ha potenza sonora rende suono, allora ha ÎInogo insieme l'atto  dell'udire e l’atto del suono . Ciò non toglie, naturalmente, l’esistenza di un  mondo sensibile esteriore all'anima: poichò il sentire, diversamente dall’intendere, non passa all’atto senza un oggetto esteriore materiale: « Perciò dipende  da noi l’intendere, quando lo vogliamo, ma non così il sentire : De An., II. 5.  417 Db, 24. °    La sensazione non è sensazione di se stessa, nel senso che l’occhio, ad. es.,  non vede se stesso. Ma A. accenna anche a una alognows ch'è aùti avtis (De An.,  III. 2. 425 b, 15, 0 Cfr. De sensu, 7. 448 a, 26): autocoscienza sensibile, noi diremmo,  corrispondente a quella intellettiva (del tutto spiegata in Dio, com'è noto). Per  cui anche la sensazione, così come il pensiero per l’intelligibile, non ha fuori  di sè il sentito (in quanto tale).    Posta anche la correlatività protagoree, onde il sentire risulti dall'incontro dell’agente col paziente (della cosa visibile, ad es., con la vista: cfr. Teeteto,  156 d), vale quanto si è detto: debbono esistere, indipendentemente dalla sensazione, i due sostrati, la cosa che ha la potenza di esser vista e l’anima che ha  la .\otenza di vedere.   (4\ Questo capitolo prosegue il precedente, e s'aggira ancora intorno alla verità,  di ciò che appare. Vien ripetuta la distinzione tra coloro che seguono    o meno,  la dottrina protagorea in buona fede e con qualche ragione degna di esser presa a ogni cosa giudichi rettamente. Dubbi di questo genere sono  simili a quello di sapere se in questo momento dormiamo o  siamo desti. Simili difficoltà valgono tutte lo stesso. Costoro  pretendono che si dia ragione di tutto: cercano un principio,  e lo vogliono ottenere per via dimostrativa: sebbene dalle  loro azioni si veda chiaro che di tale necessità, di dimostrar  tutto, non sono persuasi. L’errore in cui cadono, come si  disse, è questo: cercano un ragionamento per cose in cui il  ragionamento non esiste, perchè il principio de lla dimostrazione non è una dimostrazione. Essi stessi possono facilmente  persuadersi di ciò: chè non è difficile a comprendere. Coloro,  invece, che esigono che uno li confauti per forza di ragionamento soltanto, esigono l’impossibile: poichè pretendono  che si dica il contrario di loro, e cominciano intanto col  dirlo essi (').   Se le cose non tutte sono relative, ma alcune soltanto, e  altre sono in sè e per sè, allora non potrà tutto ciò che appare, esser vero. Poichè, ciò che appare, appare a qualcuno:  di modo che, chi dice che tutto ciò che appare è vero, fa  tutte le cose relative. Perciò quelli che chiedono di essere  confutati per forza discorsiva  se tuttavia acconsentono di  discutere ragionevolmente , bisogna che facciano bene attenzione che non c’è ciò che appare semplicemente, ma c’è  ciò che appare a chi appare, e quando appare, e in quanto  e come appare. Se vogliono discutere, ma non in questi termini, accadrà loro ben presto di dire cose tra loro contrarie (*). Può, infatti, alla stessa persona una cosa parer miele  alla vista, e al gusto no; e non parer identica una stessa    in considerazione, e coloro che ne cavan :notivo per nera esercitazione discorsiva. I trapassi, tuttavia, dalla considerazione di un gruppo o dell'altro, o di ciò  che essi hanno in comune, non sono abbastanza netti. Può darsi che il testo sia  atato in qualche parte disordinato.    Intendo: pretendono che altrî dimostri il contrario di ciò che dicono:  ma, com’ è possibile ciò, se già essi lo affermano? V. nel Ross gli altri tentativi:  d'interpretazione.    Cose tra loro contrarie essi possono dirle soltanto se escono «indll’atto.  omnimode determinatus del conoscere. Ma, se accettano la determinazjfone, non:  riuscirà a ]Joro più.    2    (uh) |    6    de)    10 cosa alla vista di ciascuno dei due occhi, se sono disuguali.  Coloro che, per le ragioni già dette, van dicendo esser vero  ciò che appare, e però tutto ugualmente vero e falso, perchè non a tutti le cose appaiono le stesse, e neppure a uno  stesso sempre, e spesso appaiono contrarie anche nello stesso  tempo (il tatto, per es., se s'intrecciano le dita, dice che  son due gli oggetti, la dove la vista ne dà un solo),  quei  tali, dunque, badino che in realtà, qui, le sensazioni non  riguardano lo stesso senso, e per lo stesso rispetto, e nella  stessa maniera, e nello stesso tempo: per cui vero’ sarà ciò  che appare solo se è così determinato (‘).   Ma, appunto per ciò, quei che parlano non perchè dubitino, ma per parlare, si troveranno forse costretti a dire, non  «questo è vero >, ma «è vero a questo ; e quindi, anche,  come si disse dianzi, dovranno far tutto relativo, all'opinione  e al senso, sì che se non si presupponesse l’opinione di qualcuno, in realtà non ci sarebbe stato e non ci sarà mai niente (*).  Che se, invece, qualcosa fu o sarà, è chiaro che non tutto  è questione di opinione.   Inoltre, se l’oggetto è uno solo, bisogna che sia in relazione a uno solo o ad altri in numero determinato: che se  una stessa cosa si trova insieme ad essere metà e uguale,  non è relativamente al suo doppio ch’essa è uguale (?).   E quanto a colui che opina, se la realtà dell’uomo è anch’essa oggetto di opinione, non sarà uomo chi opina, ma     Così determinato l'atto, esso spiega le differenze, non solo tra individui  diversi, ma anche nello stesso individuo, dipendendo queste o dalla cosa che ha  potenza di produrre sensazioni diverse o contrarie, ovvero dalle condizioni e dall’uso degli organi, ovvero dal giudizio (talvolta errato) che l’anima trae dal confronto delle sensazioni o di queste con precedenti immagini (v. dianzi la possibilità  «dlell'errore nei sensibili per accidente, e la distinzione tra sensazione e fantasia;  e cfr. anche De An.,, III. 3, 428a, 11: «Le sensazioni sogo' sempre vere, invece  le fantasie nascono il più delle volte false : di qui, gt possibilità del vero    e del falso nella déta).     Come dianzi per la sensazione, così qui per l'opinione: il soggettivismo  è assurdo per A.  (9) Si riannoda al pensiero precedente al $ 8: anche fatto tutto relativo, se    la relazione vien determinata ne’ suoì termini esattamente, essa non è mai con  tradittoria.  l'oggetto opinato. Ma, siccome ogni cosa è quale è chi l’opina,  costui sarà infinite specie di cose (‘).   Che, dunque, l’opinione più salda di tutte è questa, che  le affermazioni opposte non possono esser vere insieme; e a  quali conseguenze vadan incontro coloro che la impugnano, e  quali ragioni li muovano a ciò,  si è detto quanto basta.   Ora, posto che è impossibile che si verifichi la contradizione nello stesso tempo e per il medesimo rispetto, è manifesto altresì che neppure i contrari possono trovarsi insieme  nello stesso soggetto. Poichè uno dei contrari non esprime  altro che la privazione: la privazione della sostanza. Ma la  privazione è la negazione d’un certo genere determinato. Se,  dunque, è i mpossibile che l’affermazione e la negazione siano  vere nello stesso tempo, dovrà anche essere impossibile che  i contrari si trovino insieme (?), a meno che entrambi non  si trovino in una certa maniera soltanto, ovvero }’uno in una  certa maniera soltanto, e l’altro semplicemente.    CapitoLo VII.    Delle due parti della contradizione non si dà mezzo, ma  è necessario che o si affermi o si neghi, e che, quel che si  afferma o nega, sia una sola cosa di una sola. Questo diventa  chiaro appena ci si faccia a definire che cosa è il vero e il  falso. Falso è dire che l’essere non è, o che il non-essere è; Ripiglia il pensiero del $ 8: se tutto è relativo all’uomo (Protagora),  l’uomo stesso che cos'è? Da una parte, non esistendo altro che l'oggetto di opinione, l’uomo non è più il soggetto pensante, ma quello ch'è pensato; dall'altra,  anche in quanto soggetto pensante, per la reciprocità protagorea (di cui alla fine  del capitolo precedente), egli esisterà come è nella relazione a ciò che pensa, e sarà  un opinante d'infinite specie: tante, quante sono le specie degli oggetti opinati,  in rispetto ai quali egli è un opinante sempre diverso (data la varietà continua  delle cose opinate). In conchiusione, neppur l’uomo esiste.   Ho tradotto come se il xgòds della 1. 12 non ci fosse (così il cod. E). Mantenendolo: «costui sarà (tale) in relazione a un numero infinito di specie di cose  (e quindi sempre diverso).    Salvo che in potenza, o l’uno in atto e l’altro in potenza; o l’uno sotto  un aspetto, e l’altro sotto un altro, ecc.    11    12    ro    (ce i vero è dire che l’essere è, e il non-essere non è. Per cui,  anche, chi dice che una cosa è, o non è(‘), o dice il vero  o dice il falso; invece, se si desse il mezzo, nè dell’essere  sì direbbe che è o non è, nè del non-essere.   In secondo luogo, quel mezzo della contradizione dovrebbe essere o a quel modo che il grigio è in mezzo tra  il nero e il bianco, ovvero tra uomo e cavallo un terzo  ente che non sia nessuno dei due. Se fosse in quest’ultimo  modo; non ci sarebbe mutamento (perchè mutamento si  ha quando dal non-buono si passi al buono, o da questo a  quello): invece lo si vede ognora, ed è tra contrari e intermedi, e non altrimenti. Se poi il mezzo fosse come un  intermedio, si avrebbe anche così una generazione del bianco  che non verrebbe dal non-bianco: ora, nessuno l’ha mai  vista (*).   In terzo luogo, tutto ciò che pensa e intende (°), il pensiero o lo afferma o lo nega: questo è chiaro dalla definizione stessa del vero e del falso (‘). Vero è il pensiero quando,  affermando o negando, unisce le nozioni in un certo modo;  quando, invece, in un certo altro, è falso.   In quarto luogo, quel mezzo, se uno non fa questione di  parole, dovrebbe essere al di lA di tutte le contradizioni, per  cui uno neanche direbbe nè il vero nè il non vero. E sa   Non «chi dice che questo (toùto 0 èxgsivo, che altri aggiungono intendendo del mezzo) è 0 non è: perchè del mezzo non si dice che è o non è. Per  quel che segue: «Ille quì ponit medium inter contradictionem, non dicit quod  necesse sit dicere de ente esse vel non esse, neque quod necesse sit de non ente:  S. Tom. ($ 720).    O quel terzo (il mezzo) è negativo (né uomo  né cavallo), e il divenire non  ha luogo perchè ci vuole un termine positivo e una realtà comune ai due termini  tra cui avviene (il «non buono , ad es., se diviene, passa in un termine positivo,  e questo, d'altronde, non può essere, poniamo, il « bello ); ovvero è positivo (e bianco  e nero), e il divenire non avviene neppure in questo caso, perchè il termine negativo è indispensabile e la realtà da realizzare non può esser quella già realizzata  (nell'esempio, considera il grigio come già, insieme, bianco e nero, attualmente).    L'attività logica (della Su&vora) porta all'intuizione della verità (propria  del vote).    Posta al $ 2.I1 giudizio è sintesi di nozioni, rapporto (affermativo o negativo) tra soggetto e predicato. rebbe al di là (') dell'essere e del non-essere, per cui dovrebbe esserci anche un mutamento diverso  da quello  che consiste nel nascere e perire.   In quinto luogo, quel medio dovrebbe esserci anche per  quei generi di cose, in cui la negazione importa immediatamente il contrario (*): nei numeri, ad es., dovrebbe esserci un numero che non fosse nè dispari nè non-dispari.  È impossibile: basta la definizione a vederlo (‘).   In sesto luogo, si andrebbe, in tal modo, all’ infinito: le  cose sarebbero non soltanto accresciute di metà, ma più ancora, perchè si potrà sempre daccapo negare quel terzo, e  costituire tra l’affermazione e la negazione sempre qualcosa  di nuovo, di natura diversa (°).   In fine, quando uno, richiesto se una cosa è bianca, risponde di no, che altro ha egli negato se non l’essere? E la  negazione di esso è il non-essere (°).   Questa opinione è sorta in alcuni per la stessa via di  altre non meno strane: non riuscendo a cavarsi fuori da argomentazioni eristiche, si arrendono e acconsentono che sia  vero quel che se n’è conchiuso. Questi, dunque, parlano per        mao. Gli altri interpretano come un «per. Tenterei di differenziare un  po’ di più questo argomento dai precedenti. Nota, per la 2 parte del paragrafo  (che passa dalla considerazione logica a quella reale), che il discorso è pur sempre  intorno al mondo del divenire, dove soltanto ha luogo l’antitesi di essere e nonessere e dei contradittorii.    Intendi: un mutamento sosta:ziale diverso. Chè è in quello che ha luogo  più propriamente l’antitesi essere-non essere.    In questi contrari mancano intermedi, e come non c’è processo di generazione, così l'affermazione di uno importa immediatamente l’esclusione dell’altro.  È un caso di contrarietà in rerum natura equivalente alla contraddizione logica  (l’unica differenza è che alla negazione non-dispari corrisponde la realtà positiva  del pari).    La definizione divisoria del pumero in pari e dispari.   (5) Più semplice l’interpretazione di Alessandro, così schematizzata dal Ross:  Se tra A e non-A c'è B [che sarebbe un terzo modo di essere di A, nè affermato  nè negato soltanto, e però accresciuto di una metà), ci sarà anche C tra B e  non-B, e D tra Ce non-C, e così di seguito.   (6) « Argomento cavato dalla natura del discorso. Il sì e il no esprimono il  primo un'affermazione e non insieme una negazione, e il secondo una negazione  e non insieme un’affermazione. E l’affernazione e la negazione non indicano se  non che o sia © non sia quella tal cosa di cui si parla: Bonghi (p. 201).  motivi di questo genere; altri, perchè vogliono che si dia  ragione di tutto. Con tutti costoro bisogna cominciar dalla  definizione, e la definizione vien fuori obbligandoli a dar un  significato a quel che dicono: il concetto, di cui la parola  è segno, diventa definizione (').   La sentenza di Eraclito, che tutto è e non è, par che autorizzi a far vera ogni cosa; quella di Anassagora, invece, a  porre un mezzo della contradizione, sì che ogni cosa sarebbe  falsa; chè, quando tutto è mescolato, il miscuglio non è nè  buono nè non-buono, onde non se ne può dir nulla di vero.    CapiTtoLO VIII.    Ciò determinato, è facile vedere che ciò che si dice delle  cose in generale non si può ridurre ad affermazioni di una  sola specie, così come fanno alcuni, i quali o van dicendo  che niente è vero (niente impedisce, secondo essi, che tutto  stia come il rapporto della diagonale al lato) (?); ovvero van  dicendo che tutto è vero. Son discorsi, questi, in fondo,  uguali a quello di Eraclito: poichè, chi asserisce che tutto  è vero e tutto è falso(*), asserisce anche ciascuna di queste     (Per questo paragrafo e s.). Non riuscendo a vedere l’errore dei ragionamenti  eristici, aleuni ne accettano le conchiusioni, e tolgon valore, così, al principio di  non contraddizione, e a quello connesso «del terzo escluso. Altri muovono da ragionamenti non eristici. In entrambi i casì, si cominci con esigere un significato  determinato di ciascun termine, Questo fu raccomandato già (4, 5 ss.) per la  difesa del principio di non-contraddizione, e ora vien raccomandato anche per  la difesa del principio del terzo escluso, perchè, in effetto, chi, come il supposto  seguace di Anassagora, pone quel terzo (che non è nè l’una nè l’altra parte  della contradittoria), fa che delle cose non si possa mai dir nulla di determinato: cfr. 4, 25.    Lett.: «l’essere il diametro commensurabile. Ossia: ogni cosa è in sè  contradittoria (come chi dicesse: « diametro commensurabile ).    Intendo: chi asserisce che si può dire che tutto è vero e tutto falso îndifferentemente (se, secondo Eraclito, tutto è e non è), costui vien a dire che son  giuste anche le due enunciazioni separatamente prese: che tutto è vero (tanto  l’essere quanto il non-essere), o tutto falso. Comunemente vien inteso, invece, che  «chi dice che tutto è vero e tutto falso insieme, dice anche le due cose separa- cose separatamente, sì che, se la prima asserzione è insostenibile, insostenibili sono anche queste separate. Ed è evidente 3  anche che sono contradittorie quelle che non possono esser  vere insieme. E neppure possono entrambe esser false: quantunque questo secondo caso, per le ragioni dette, possa sembrare meno improbabile (‘).   Con tutti coloro che fan discorsi di questa specie bisogna 4  comportarsi come s’è consigliato anche addietro (?): non esigere che dicano se una cosa è, o non è, ma che diano un  significato a quel che dicono: di modo che dalla definizione  si possa passare alla discussione, quando siasi stabilito quel  che significhi il falso o il vero. Se enunciar il vero non è 5  altro che negare ciò ch’è falso(?), è impossibile che tutto  sia falso, poichè è necessario che una delle due parti della  contradizione sia vera. Poi, se ogni cosa si deve o affermare 6  o negare, non si può essere nel falso in entrambi i casi,  perchè una sola delle due parti della contradizione è falsa.   A questi e simili ragionamenti succede, poi, quel che 7  tutti sanno: essi si distruggono da se stessi. Chi dice, infatti,  che tutto è vero, ta vero anche il ragionamento contrario  al suo, e però dichiara non vero il suo (tale, infatti, lo dichiara l’avversario). E chi dice che tutto è falso, si dichiara  nel falso da sè (‘). Che se si ammettono eccezioni, e il primo 8    tamente , Il che, evidentemente, è falso. Così, per quel che segue, che sarebbe  da tradurre: «se sono impossibili prese separatamente, anche la loro unione è  impossibile. Alessandro (397) dà entrambe le interpretazioni.    Se le contradittorie sono semplicemente contratie (ossia, se si considera  la negazione positivamente). Le «ragioni dette  potrebber'essere, in questo caso,  quelle del 8 3 del capitolo precedente, in cui si accenna alla possibilità che uno  intenda la contraddizione nel senso della contrarietà. Alessandro, invece, ricorre  alle dottrine di Eraclito e di Anassagora, le quali favoriscono piuttosto l'opinione  che non si possa affermar nulla di vero, come anche A. dice alla fine del capitolo  precedente (la dottrina eraclitea è stata, nel paragrafo precedente, avvicinata a  quella anassagorea).    Cfr. 4, 5. Quel che significhi il falso o il vero: nel Singolo caso. Cfr. cap.  prec., 9.   (8) Il testo è guasto: ho seguito la correzione proposta dal Ross (el 8è unttèv  diio tò &Ainttès pévat fi (5) drogpdvar yeidée totv).    Così anche in Teeteto. dice che soltanto quello dell'avversario non è vero, e il secondo che soltanto il suo non è falso,  allora, essi si troveranno a postulare sempre altri ragionamenti, veri e falsi,  a sostegno di quanto affermano: poichè vero sarà riconoscere  per vero il ragionamento che è vero, e così si andrà all'infinito (‘).   Evidentemente, il vero non lo dicono nè quei che affermano che tutto sta fermo, nè quei che affermano che tutto  si muove (?). Se tutto stesse fermo, vero e falso sarebbero  eternamente gli stessi, invece si vede bene come tutto muta  quaggiù. Colui che parla, lui stesso un tempo non era, e un  tempo non sarà. Ma se tutto si muove, non ci sarà nulla di  vero, e però tutto sarà falso: noi abbiamo mostrato che  questo non è ammissibile. Inoltre, il mutare presuppone  l'essere, poichè il mutamento è da qualcosa a qualcosa. E  neppure si può dire di ogni cosa che talora soltanto, non    x     Nel 1° caso: È falso che tutte le affermazioni sono vere.  È falso ch'è  falso che tutte le affermazioni sono vere, ecc.; nel 2° caso: È vero che tutte le  affermazioni sono false.  È vero che ò vero che tutte le affermazioni sono false, ecc.  Nel 1° caso son tutte affermazioni false che, chi sostiene che tutto è vero, deve  attribuire al contradittore; nel 2° tutte affermazioni vere che, chi sostiene la tesi  che tutte le affermazioni sono fulse, deve riconoscere come proprie. Così vero e  falso, presi uno fuori dell’altro, trapassano immediatamente l’uno nell’altro: chi  dice cho tutte le affermazioni sono vere, è costretto a riconoscerne infinite false;  chi dice che tutte sono false, deve riconoscerne infinite vere. Vero e falso, invece,  sono uniti, per A., nella sintesi contradittoria, dove, soltanto, l'uno dà senso  all’altro.   Si può notare in questa concezione la tendenza già a dialettizzare il pensiero  in sè e per sè. L’astrattismo platonizzante e le asigenze discorsive prendono,  tuttavia, il sopravvento: vero e falso si escludono senza mediarsì, in fine; e il  principio di non contraddizione resta un presupposto (l'assioma supremo), una  pregiudiziale, puramente negativa, della pensabilità del reale in generale (la  prima condizione logica del pensiero empirico). Anche il principio del mezzo  escluso, anzichè fondare il valore assoluto della sintesi contradittoria per l'attività pensante (ch'è îl medio concreto in cul l’antitesi si risolve senza residuo),  vien aggiunto semplicemente come corollario: chi lo nega, nega il principio di  non contraddizione, e cade, infine, così come chi nega questo, nell'inileterminato.  Il pensiero empirico, infatti, per la determinatezza del reale vuole l’immediatezza della distinzione e opposizione del vero al falso.    Ricorda che quiete e moto già al $ 15 del cap. 2 furono citati come una  contrarietà riducibile a quella dell’uno 6 del molteplice, dell’essere e del non-essere. eternamente, sia in quiete o in movimento. C’è qualcosa  che sempre muove ciò ch’è mosso, e il primo motore, esso,  è immobile (').     «Posset aliquis credere quod, quia non omnia moventur nec omnia quiescunt, quod ideo omnia quandoque moventur et quandoque quiescunt: S. Tom.  (748). Invece, il cielo (delle stelle fisse) muove sempre, mosso esso stesso, e Dio  muove questo sempre, immobile in se stesso. Un pensiero analogo trovammo nel  cap. 5, 5 è 16-17. La questione qui accennata è discussa in Plys. Dicesi principio (') di una cosa quello da cui si può cominciare il movimento: della linea, per es., e della via c’è  un principio da questa parte, e un altro dalla parte opposta.  Ovvero, quello da cui una cosa riesce meglio: per es., nello  studio si deve cominciare talvolta, non dal principio primo  di una cosa, ma da quello che s'impara più facilmente. Ovvero, la parte di una cosa da cui questa ha origine: per es.,  la chiglia di una nave, le fondamenta di una casa; negli  animali, alcuni credono che tale parte sia il cuore (?), altri  il cervello, altri qualcos'altro. Ovvero, ciò che dà origine a  una cosa senza farne parte, e da cui primieramente potò aver     ’Aexî: se ne dànno i significati principali (1-6), nel comune modo di parlare. È difficile metter un ordine rigoroso in questi qui enumerati, e far corrispondere n essi esattamente quanto riassumendo enumera e distingue nel $ 8.  Nè c’è rapporto qui con la discussione fatta nel lib. I intorno all’àgyf in senso  metafisico e con la distinzione delle quattro specie di esso: benchè di queste sia  facile trovar l'equivalente anche nell’enumerazione presente (2, causa finale; 3,  c. materiale-formalo; 4, c. efficiente; 5, c. efficiente-finale; 6, c. formale). C'è, in  più, la distinzione tra l’esser il principio intrinseco o estrinseco alla cosa (così  nel $ 8: natura ed elementi son principii intrinseci; pensiero e deliberazione,  estrinseci). Qui, dunque, è. si potrebbe tradurre con «cominciamento , « inizio   o «punto di partenza , « fondamento  , «causa  od «occasione  ; principii sono anche i «primati» della città (5); anche oggi si parla di principii nel  senso di «rudimenti » , o di «principii logici »(6); e via dicendo.    Il cuore è la parte principale per A., come per Empedocle e Democrito;  il cervello, per Alemeone, Ippone, Platone. nizio il movimento o mutamento: per es., il figlio dal padre  e dalla madre, la contesa da un’ingiuria ('). Ovvero ciò dalla  cui deliberazione dipende se qualcosa si muove o si muta:  per es., i magistrati nelle città, gli oligarchi, i re, i tiranni;  e principii diconsi in questo senso anche le arti, specialmente  quelle che sovrastano alle altre (*). Inoltre, ciò da cui primieramente una cosa è fatta conoscibile, anch’esso dicesi suo  principio: per es., ciò che vien premesso nelle dimostrazioni (*).   In altrettanti modi si parla di cause, poichè tutte le cause  son principii (*).   Ciò ch’è, dunque, comune a tutti i principii è di esser  ciò da cui primieramente una cosa è, o diviene, o è conosciuta; e di essi alcuni sono insiti nella cosa, altri esterni.  Son principii, quindi, la natura, gli elementi, il pensiero, la  deliberazione, la sostanza e il fine (*): poichè per molte cose  ciò ch’è buono e bello è principio insieme di conoscenza e  di movimento. Causa dicesi, in un senso, ciò di cui una cosa è fatta:  per es., il bronzo di una statua, l’argento di una coppa, e     La contesa da un'ingiuria: son parole prese da un verso di Epicarmo,  come risulta da De Gen. An., I. 18. 7242, 29.    Le arti qui chiamate « architettoniche » sono soprattutto quelle che mirano  alla pratica: così in Ethica Nic., I. 1. 1094 a, 14, Ma anche la filosofia è considerata  così, in rispetto alle altre scienze, in Afet., I. 2, 5 e 12.    al irmodéoev sono certamente anche «le premesse » (Bonitz, Waitz, ece.),  come appare dal passo che vien poco dopo in b, 20 (2, 8). Ma non mi sembrano  da escludere qui i principii (propri e comuni) delle dimostrazioni.    Cfr. IV. 2, 5 (come per erte e uno). Principio e causa sono spesso sinonimi in A., che unisce anche î due concetti (specialmente per la scienza dei  « principii e cause prime »). Qui principio nel senso del $ 1 non si potrebbe considerare come cause; ma neppure tutte le cause son principii in senso metafîsico.  Causa accenna meramente a un rapporto tra due fatti, laddove «principium ordinem quemdam importat » (S. Tom., 761), e accenna piuttosto alla ragion d'essere  di tutta la serie delle cause.   (5) La sostanza e il fine: la frase raccoglie oscuramente le quattro specie di  causalità.   (6) Questo capitolo ripete quasi letteralmente il 8° del libro II della Phys.,        2 i loro generi (‘); in un altro, la specie o esemplare (?), cioè  il concetto della pura essenza, ed i suoi generi (nell’ottava,  per es., il rapporto di due a uno, e in generale il numero),   3 così come le parti di esso concetto. Inoltre, ciò da cui ha  principio immediatamente il mutamento o il suo contrario:  per es., il deliberare è causa dell’agire; il padre, del figlio;  e in generale, chi fa è causa del fatto, ciò che produce un  mutamento, di ciò che muta.   d Causa dicesi anche rispetto al fine, ossia ciò per cui si fa  qualcosa: per es., si passeggia per la salute. Diciamo: perchè passeggia? per acquistar salute; e riteniamo, così rispondendo, di aver enunciato la causa. Ma così anche per le cose  intermedie tra ciò che muove e il fine: per es., per la salute  il dimagrare, il purgarsi, le medicine o i ferri del medico:  le quali cose sono tutte per il fine, e differiscono tra loro in  quanto alcune sono strumenti, altre sono azioni.   5 Si può dire che questi son tutti i sensi in cui si parla di  cause; e poichè i sensi son diversi, ne segue che di una  stessa cosa ci son cause molteplici, non accidentalmente (?):  per es., di una statua lo scultore e il bronzo son cause non  per altro rispetto che in quanto è statua: sebbene non nello  stesso modo, ma l’uno come materia, l’altro come principio  del movimento.   6 E ci sono cause reciproche: così, il lavorare è causa di  buona salute, la buona salute del lavorare: ma non nello    dal quale sembra esser stato preso (o posto qui da A. stesso ?). È degno di nota  che l’ordine, col quale vengono enumerate le quattro specie di causalità, non è  sempre lo stesso in A., ma varia con la natura della ricerca. Nel lib. I, cap. 3°  della Met. vedemmo enumerata per prima ìa causa formale, poi la materiale, poi  quella motrice e finale. Quì, ossia nella Fisica, è invertito l'ordine delle prime  due. In De Gen. An. (I. 1. 715 a, 4) precedono la finale e la formale. Negli Ana/. Post.  (II. 11. 94 a, 20) comincia dalla formale, e per causa materiale, subito dopo, dà  quel che nella logica ne tiene il luogo, le premesse di un sillogismo (queste,  infatti, son citate qui, al $ 8, tra gli esempi di causa materiale). In De Somm.,  (2. 465 b, 16) son prima la finale e la motrice.    I loro generi: v.$ 9 88.    Esemplare: termine platonico, adoperato qui, con allusione all’arte, per  der rilievo a quello di specie, 0 forma, nel senso della pura essenza.    Bon cause proprie: cfr. S 10.    1018 db    140° METAFISICA y  stesso modo, perchè l’una è come fine, l’altra come principio  del movimento.   Inoltre, una stessa cosa è causa, talvolta, dei contrari:  ciò che, presente, è causa di certa cosa, talvolta l’accagioniamo, assente, del contrario: per es., del capovolgimento  della nave incolpiamo l’assenza del nocchiero, la cui presenza era causa di sicurezza: entrambe, la presenza e la  privazione, sono cause rispetto al movimento.   Tutte le cause ora menzionate riguardano i quattro significati più evidenti. Le lettere dell’alfabeto, la materia delle  cose artificiali, il fuoco, la terra e gli altri elementi dei corpi,  le parti del tutto, le premesse della conchiusione, son cause  in quanto sono ciò da cui risulta costituita una cosa; ma  alcune come sostrato (per es., le parti), altre come pura essenza (l’intero (‘'), la sintesi e la specie). Il seme, il medico,  il consigliere, in generale ciò che produce qualche effetto,  son tutte cause nel senso che da esse ha principio il mutamento o la quiete. Altre sono cause in quanto sono il bene  e il fine delle altre cose, poichè, ciò per cui queste sono,  vuol esser l’ottimo e il loro fine. E non si faccia differenza  qui tra il bene reale e quello apparente (?).   Tali e tante, dunque, son le specie delle cause; e anche  i loro modi(*), per quanto numerosi, si riducono a pochi  capi. Parlandosi, infatti, delle cause in molti modi, anche  di quelle d’una stessa specie, alcune son tali in grado primario, altre secondariamente: causa della salute, ad es., è     «Non la somma delle parti, ma ciò che s'aggiunge a queste: l’interezza  e perfezione » (Aless. 351, 27). Così, per la sintesî. E però ciò da cui risulta costituita una cosa è da intendere, non semplicemente come «ciò di cui una cosa è  fatta » ($ 1), ma nel senso del sinolo. Materia e forma son due principiì immanenti in ogni caso alla natura di una cosa (diversamente dalla causa efficiente  e finale).    Il bene reale e quello apparente muovono ugualmente: «non è necessario  che una cosa sia realmente buona e piacevole perchò si desideri, ma basta che  paia » (Top., VI. 8. 146b, 36). ui    Per ciascuna specie di causalità A. distingue vari modi, dei quali alcuni  sono cause più immediatamente, altri meno. il medico, e anche il pratico (‘); e dell’ottava è causa il rapporto di due a uno, e anche il numero; e così sempre ciò  che comprende ciascun particolare.   Ci sono, inoltre, cause accidentali (?), e generi di. esse:  per es., lo scultore è causa della statua in un senso; in un  altro, la causa è Policleto, perchè lo scultore, per avventura,  è Policleto; e così dicasi dei generi comprendenti l’accidente:  per es., causa della statua è l’uomo, o, più in generale, l’animale, perchè Policleto è uomo, e l’uomo è animale. Inoltre,  degli accidenti, alcuni son cause più remote, altre più vicine:  come se uno dicesse che causa dellu statua è, non soltanto  Policleto o l’uomo, ma l’esser bianco o musico.   E tutte, poi, o che tali siano propriamente, o per accidente,  si dicono cause o perchè hanno la potenza di agire, o perchè  agiscono: per es., della casa che si costruisce la causa è chi  sa costruire, ovvero colui che la costruisce.   Similmente per gli effetti delle cause: ad es., si dirà che  una cosa è causa di questa statua qui, o di una statua, o di  un’immagine in generale, e di questo bronzo qui, o del bronzo  o materia in generale (*); e nello stesso modo per le cause  accidentali. E queste si potranno anche unire a quelle proprie,  dicendo, adesempio, non Policleto, nè lo scultore, ma Policleto lo scultore.   E tuttavia tutti questi modi si riducono a sei di numero,  e di ognuno si parla in due sensi. Cause sono o quanto al     Il pratico: 6 teyviuns (termine più generale).  Ciascun particolare  (xaî'éxaota): qui «individuo» e «particolare» (e così i concetti opposti corrispondenti di universale e generico) non sono distinti: cfr. I. 1, 9, nota.    Le precedenti son cause proprie. Della statua la causa propria è lo scultore, non Policleto in quanto è semplicemente un individuo umano: tanto meno  l’uomo, e tanto meno ancora l'esser bianco (ch'è un attributo di Pol. in quanto  meramente uomo). Per quest’« accidentalità » generica di uomo rispetto all’ individuo, cfr. $ 8 del I. 1, ora cit., e nota, Noto qui che ho tradotto letteralmente  sempre povorxés con musico, per comodità di espressione: è noto che il termine  greco vuol indicare anche «chi è educato nelle arti e nelle scienze», l'uomo  «colto », «istruito », ecc.    Il bronzo è causa (materiale), « ma qui può esser preso, non come causa,  ma come effetto: ci può essere una causa metallica che produce il bronzo »  (Aless. 353, 17). O, come suggerisce il Ross, chi lo prepara per lo scultore.    1014 a    142 METAFISICA    particolare, o al genere di esso; ovvero quanto all’accidente,  o al genere dell’accidente; ed entrambi i modi o vengono  congiunti insieme, o si considerano separatamente. E tutte,  poi, o son riguardate in atto, o in potenza('). Con questa  differenza: che le cause in atto e quelle particolari sono e  vengon meno insieme alle cose di cui son cause: per es.,  questo medico curante insieme a costui che sta risanando,  questo costruttore (?) insieme alla casa che si sta costruendo;  invece, non è sempre così per le cause in potenza, perchè  insieme con la casa non perisce il costruttore.    CaPITOLO III.    Elemento dicesi quel primo (*) di cui risulta composta una  cosa, e la cui specie non è riducibile ad altra: come, ad  es., gli elementi della voce, dei quali risulta composta la voce,  e in cui questa si risolve alla fine; sì che essi a lor volta        Parrebbe che le sei classi dovessero essere: proprie 0 accidentali, particolari o generali, attuali 0 potenziali. Ma, poichè A, considera le particolari equivalenti alle proprie, si ha in 9-11: proprie e i loro generi, accidentali e i loro  generi, attuali e potenziali. Qui ha luogo un altro spostamento: 1) particolari  (== proprie), e 2) generalità di esse; 3) accidentali, e 4) generalità di esse; 5) particolari prese insieme con gli accidenti (lo scultore Policleto), e 6) generali prese  insieme (l’uomo pratico). Aggiungendo il criterio dell'attualità o potenzialità a  tutte sei, diventerebbero 12. Ma: a) l'unione dei primi quattro modi non è data  come necessaria; b) l'attualità non può spettare alle generalità, e in effetto A.  parla qui di cause particolari. Si che, in conchiusione, il criterio più chiaro  della classificazione è quel primo.    Sott. «che sta costruendo». Nell’esempio bisognerebbe, propriamente,  considerare l’effetto nel processo del diyenire: se no, non c'è bisogno che l’individuo risanato muoia o la casa costruita rovini, per che îl medico e il costruttore restino come potenze (di altri effetti). (Ric., a proposito di ‘quest'ultimo,  l'istanza del tessitore e dell'abito nel Fedone).    Nel greco è aggiunto «insito» (8vurdgyovtosìi, che indica il carattere  distintivo di elemento (principii e cause possono non esser insiti). Perciò in XII.  4. 1070b, 22 si chiamano elementi la specie, la privazione e la materia. Cfr. nota  a lib. I. 8, 10. Un altro carattere è dato dall'essere specificamente indivisibile,  sì che la materia si trova negli elementi già in parte attuata e determinata:  così nei c. d. corpi semplici (divisibili quantitativamente, non qualitativamente:  una sillaba, invece, si divide in lettere qualitativamente diverse). non possono più risolversi in altri di specie diversa dalla  loro, ma, quand’anche vengano divisi, danno luogo a parti  della stessa specie, così come dividendo l’acqua si ha acqua  (non così per la sillaba). Similmente, coloro che parlano degli  elementi dei corpi, intendono ciò in cui si risolvono i corpi  alla fine, e che non è riducibile più ad altro di specie differente: e, o ne ammettano uno solo o più, questi essi chiamano elementi. Parimenti dicasi degli elementi delle figure  geometriche (') e delle dimostrazioni in generale: le dimostrazioni prime ed implicite in molte altre, quelle appunto  si chiamano elementi delle dimostrazioni: di tal futta sono i  primi sillogismi (*) risultanti di tre termini, di cui uno è il  medio. °   Di qui viene che per metafora si chiami elemento ciò che,  essendo uno e piccolo, può servire a molte cose, sì che anche  ciò ch’è piccolo, semplice e indivisibile si chiama elemento.  E di qui viene che si considerano come elementi le cose più  universali, perchè ciascuna di esse, essendo una e semplice,  si trova in molte cose, o in tutte o nel maggior numero (*):  donde, anche, l’unità e il punto sembrano ad alcuni che sian  principii. Ora, poichè i così detti generi sono universali e  indivisibili (chè di essi non si dà definizione), alcuni chiamano  elementi i generi, e più questi che le differenze, perchè il genere è più universale: infatti, dove c’è la differenza, il genere  non manca mai, ma non sempre dove c’è il genere, c’è anche  la differenza.   Tutti questi significati hanno questo in comune: che elemento di ogni cosa è quel primo che la costituisce.     O «proposizioni », « teoremi », « dimostrazioni », ecc,: efr. III. 3, 2.    Forse «sillogismo» qui vale ragionamento in generale, e «primi sillogismi» son le figure del sillogismo propriamente detto. Per il Ross sono «i sillogiemi primari (opposti ai soriti), aventi soltanto tre termini e un unico medio ».    Questi sono universali che hanno ancora qualche contenuto; quelli son  generi sommi, indefinibili (mediante il genere e la differenza specifica): tali volevan essere l'Uno e l'Ente dei Pitagorici e dei Platonici (cfr. III. 3).  Natura (') si dice, in un senso, la genesi delle cose che  hanno un lor crescimento (come se uno pronunziasse lungo  l’u di quos).   In up altro, ciò ch’è primitivo in una cosa, e da cui questa  si svolge (?).   In un altro, ciò che dà il primo movimento a ognuna  delle cose naturali, ed è immanente ad esse in quanto sono  quel che sono (°).   E diconsi avere un lor crescimento quante cose aumentano  di qualcos’altro per un contatto sì che le parti siano unite,  o aderenti, come negli embrioni, organicamente (*). Tale  unione differisce dal contatto, perchè in questo basta che le  parti si tocchino, mentre in quella c’ è qualcosa d’uno e identico tra l’una e l’altra parte, che le fa crescere insieme, invece che toccarsi semplicemente, e ne fa una cosa sola in  rispetto alla continuità e quantità, ancorchè non qualitativamente (5).     L'argomento è trattato, similmente in Phkys., II, 1. A. vuol cavare l’etimologia di quo da puo, che nella maggior parte dei tempi ha lv lungo. È  dubbio che quos avesse in origine questo significato di yévsau, oltre quello che  anche noi intendiamo per « natura» di una cosa.    Forse, come pensa il Bonitz, il seme.    Non estrinseco, dunque, nè appartenente alla cosa per altra considerazione che l’esser suo proprio (non così, per es., se uno cade),    (Difficile a tradursi il cuprepuxévar e il mooorepuxévar = aver una natura  in comune, 0 una natura in rapporto con altra, intendendo di esseri viventi). Il  contatto non basta: chò questo può essere, come in un mucchio «di pietre, un  aumento materiale, non un queota: (un crescere nel senso di svolgimento). Le  parti debbono formare un'unità organica; o, se si tratta di due cose diverse  il feto, per es., nel seno della madre), esser unite vitalmente tra loro.   (5) Sembra riferirsi alla diversità delle parti di un organismo (se non anche  all’altro caso accennato, della simbiosi vera e propria).  Un altro punto un po’  oscuro è quel «qualcos'altro » in principio del paragrafo, che par accennare al  nutrimento: per questo non basta il contatto, certamente; ina il discorso che  segue non sembra più a proposito, perchè, più che la trasformazione e l’'assorbimento del ‘cibo, riguarda, evidentemente, le parti di uno stesso organismo o  l'unione di due organismi (dove, poi, il processo di nutrizione, in quanto differisce dal semplice contatto, è lo stesso). Inoltre, natura dicesi ciò da cui originariamente son costituite o generate alcune cose naturali, quand’esso sia informe  e immutabile nella potenza che gli è propria: così il bronzo  dicesi natura di una statua o degli utensili di bronzo, il legno  di quelli di legno, e via dicendo: chè da essi vien prodotto  ciascuno di questi oggetti, in cui resta intatta la materia  prima ('). E nello stesso modo alcuni chiamano natura gli  elementi delle cose naturali, chi dicendola fuoco, chi terra,  chi aria, chi acqua, chi qualcos'altro simile, chi più d’una  di queste cose, chi tutte insieme.   Inoltre, natura vien chiamata, in altro senso, la sostanza (*)  degli esseri naturali, per es., da coloro che dicono la natura  esser la composizione originaria delle cose, ovvero come  Empedocle dice:    Niente, di ciò che è, ha una natura,  ma soltanto la mescolanza e separazione delle cose mescolate,  e natura è il nome dato a esse dagli uomini.    Perciò, anche, delle cose che sono o si generano per natura,  quand’anche sia presente ciò da cui naturalmente deriva il  loro essere o generarsi, diciamo che non anc ora hanno la loro  natura, finchè non posseggono la specie e la forma.     (AMa 1. 27, con la volgata, ho omesso il pù: «alcune cose [non] naturali»). Resta intatta la materia prima, nel senso che il bronzo resta bronzo,  anche se con una forma che prima non aveva (onde, in certo modo, era informe).  A. con l’esempio di cose artificiali vuol dar un’idea della materia in quanto  volgarmente è considerata reale indipendentemente dalla forma: ch’è l’idea da  cui mossero i Fisiologi, studiati nel lib, I. « Dispositiones formae non salvantur  in generatione; una, enim, forma introducitur altera abiecta. Et propter hoc  formae videbantur esse quibusdam accidentia, et sola materia substantia et natura, ut dicitur in 2° Physicorum » (S. Tom., 817). A. distinguerà, poi, tra materia  prima (qui non è in questo senso) e materia seconda.    Sostanza, qui, è l'essere sostanziale, intimo, delle cose, riguardato dapprima come un cornposto originario, non quello attuale e immediato: già accennante, così, secondo A., al concetto di essenza. Cfr. per Anassagora il lib. I. 8,  10-14. Per Empedocle, cfr. Diels, fr. 8, dove il passo è riferito integralmente.  A. interpreta la puoars di questi versi empedoclei come « natura permanente ». Altri,  più comunemente, pensano che E. voglia dire che non c'è, in senso assoluto, generazione o morte di nulla, ma solo mescolarsi e separarsi dei quattro elementi. Per natura, dunque, ogni cosa risulta di queste due, materia e forma: per es., gli esseri viventi e le loro parti. E natura è tanto la materia originaria (e questa di due maniere:  o quella ch’è tale in rispetto a una cosa particolare, o in  generale: per es., delle opere in bronzo è materia originaria (')  rispetto a esse il bronzo, ma in generale è forse l’acqua, se  tutto quel che si può liquefare è acqua), quanto la specie e  la sostanza, che è il fine della generazione. E di qui, per  estensione di significato, si dà il nome di natura ad ogni  sostanza in generale, perchè anche la natura è una specie  di sostanza (?).   Segue dalle cose dette (*) che natura, nel suo senso primario e proprio, è la sostanza di quegli esseri che hanno in  Se stessi, in quanto tali, il principio del movimento: poichè  la materia si dice natura per la capacità di ricevere questo  principio, e così il generarsi e il crescere perchè son movimenti che partono di lì. E natura è in questo senso il principio del movimento degli esseri naturali immanente a essi’  in qualche modo; o in potenza, o attualmente.    CapiToLO V.    Necessario dicesi quello senza del quale, come concausa (‘),  non si può vivere: ad es., il respirare e il cibo sono una cosa  necessaria per l’animale: non se ne può far senza.     Materia originaria (se@tn), in senso generale, qui, è quella del genere  ultimo (primo) di più cose.  Tutto quel che si può fondere o Hanerare è acqua,  si dice anche nel Timeo, 58 d,    Quella ch'è unita alla materia, nel processo del divenire: di qui l’estensione del termine natura alla sostanza in generale (anche a quelle che son fuori  di quel processo e, come le sostanze puramente intelligibili, prive di materia).    Riassume e conchiude con l’approfondimento del 3° significato, ch'è il  fondamentale.  Alessandro (960, 11): « In potenza, come l’anima nel seme; in atto,  quando sia divenuto già un animale: la forma immanente nella materia (tè Evudoy  elbos) è per tutti gli esseri naturali il principio di quel movimento ch'è la generazione ».    cuvattuov: noi diremmo «condizione » (necessaria, non sufficiente). È una  necessità designata altrove come « ipotetica » (Phys., II. 9. 199 b, 34): tale è anche,  per A., la realtà della materia rispetto alla forma. E quello senza del quale non può esserci o prodursi il  bene, nè si può respingere o evitare il male: il bere la medicina, ad es., per risanare, e il navigare ad Egina per esigere  il danaro (').   3 Inoltre, ciò ch'è effetto di violenza e la violenza (?): cioè,  quello che impedisce o contrasta l'inclinazione e il proposito.  Di fatto, ciò ch’è per violenza si dice necessario, e perciò  anche doloroso, come anche Eveno dice: « Poichè ogni cosa  necessaria è molesta di sua natura». E la violenza è una  specie di necessità, come anche Sofocle dice: « Ma la violenza  mi fa necessariamente far ciò ». E la necessità sembra cosa  contro cui non val la persuasione, e giustamente, chè essa  è contraria al movimento che si fa secondo un proposito  ragionato.   4 Inoltre, ciò che non può essere altrimenti diciamo neces ‘ sario che sia così. Anzi, da questo significato del « necessario» derivano in certo modo tutti gli altri: poichè allora   si dice che uno è forzato a fare o patire di necessità, quando 1016 b  non può seguire la sua inclinazione perchè gli è fatta violenza: chè quella è una necessità per la quale non si può  altro. E dicasi lo stesso per le concause del vivere e del bene:  quando non sia possibile nè il bene, nè il vivere ed esistere  senza alcune di. esse, queste sono necessarie, e la ragione di   ciò è, appunto, una specie di necessità.   5 Aggiungi, tra le cose necessarie, la dimostrazione, perchè,  se qualcosa è stato dimostrato assolutamente, non può esser  altrimenti; e causa di ciò son le premesse, dalle quali si fa  il sillogismo, se son tali che non possano esser altrimenti.   6 Delle cose alcune hanno del lor esser necessarie una causa  altra da esse; altre, no: anzi, esse son causa per cui altre     Può darsi che accenni, come il Christ suppone, a un fatto ricordato in  una lettera di Platone (13*). V. Ross.    Per la fila v. Età. Nic., lib. III. 1, dove il concetto è approfondito: « forzato  (Plavov: l’effetto della violenza) è ciò il cui principio è di fuori, e tale che, chi opera  o chi sopporta, in nulla vi conferisca » (Cfr. DANTE, Par., IV, 73). E per la xgoalgeo, cap. 26 8: l'impulso, nell'azione, dev’esser guidato dalla ragione che delibera sul da farsi: donde il proponimento.  Eveno: sofista e poeta, di Paro, ric.  più volte da Piatone.  Sofocle: v. Elettra. sono necessarie. Laonde necessario, nel senso primo e proprio, è il semplice, perchè questo non può essere in più modi,  sì che non può esser ora in un modo ora in un altro: chè  sarebbe, allora, già in molti modi ('). Se ci sono, dunque,  esseri eterni e immobili (?), nulla c’è per essi di forzato e  contro natura. Uno si dice sia per accidente, sia per se stesso (*).   Per accidente, come « Corisco e musico», e « Corisco musico » : poichè è lo stesso dire « Corisco e musico » e « Corisco  musico». Ovvero: « musico e giusto »; 0: « Corisco musico e  Corisco giusto ». Di tutte queste cose, infatti, l’uno si dice  per accidente: «giusto e musico » perchè accidenti d’una  sola sostanza, « musico e Corisco» perchè il primo è un accidente del secondo. Similmente, in certo modo, anche « Corisco  musico » unito a « Corisco » fa una cosa sola, perchè in questo  discorso c’è una parte ch'è accidente dell’altra: ossia « musico» di « Corisco ». E così dicasi di « Corisco musico » unito  a «Corisco giusto », perchè entrambi hanno una parte ch’ è  accidente d’una stessa altra (*).     Nota qui (come altrove, 6pesso) l'improvviso passaggio dal pensiero {dove  solo ha un senso la necessità) alle cose. L'impossibilità (la negazione) del contrario diventa semplicità dell'essere (l’essere in un modo solo), propria di ciò ch'è  eterno (non ora in un modo, ora in un altro). Ma, poi, tra queste cose rientrano,  come qui,tà gta, i principii delle dimostrazioni, e le pure essenze indivisibili.    Se a immobili si sostituisce immutabili, tra questi esseri (o cose) eterni  ci sono anche i cieli, oltre Dio e le Intelligenze motrici. Anche in VI. 2. 1026 b,  28 la fila vien messa da parte (riguarda, infatti, l’ Etica) e la necessità posta in  opposizione all'accidente.    L'uno è qui considerato nelle cose, e insieme come predicato delle cose  ossia riguarda la questione: quando è che le cose (in sè e nel discorso) hanno  unità, o accidentale (1-3), o essenziale (4-12). La distinzione deriva dal considerarle unite o dalla parte degli accidenti, o dell'essenza.  Poi, si farà questione  dlel concetto in sè e per sè (19-15).    Il giudizio qui è coneiderato analiticamente, anzi verbalisticamente, come  accoppiamento di due termini: a) di una sostanza con un accidente; b) di due  accidenti d’una stessa sostanza, sottintesa; c) di questa sostanza con i due accidenti separatamente considerati; d) di questa sostanza unita all’accidente con  la sostanza senz'altro. Il caso fondamentale è il primo. Ugualmente se l’accidente si predichi del genere o di  qualche nome universale (‘): si dica, poniamo, che «uomo >  e «uomo musico » è lo stesso: infatti, o si dice così perchè  «musico » è accidente dell’« uomo », ch’è un’unica sostanza;  ovvero, perchè entrambi sono accidenti di qualche individuo,  poniamo, di Corisco (salvo che non gli appartengono entrambi  allo stesso modo, ma l'uno, senza dubbio, come genere e nella  sostanza; l’altro, come proprietà o affezione della sostanza).  Questi sono, dunque, i modi in cui l’uno si dice delle cose  per accidente.   Invece, di quelle di cui si dice per se stesse, alcune si  dicon così perchè sono continue: poniamo, a un fascio dà  continuità la corda, ai pezzi di legno la colla; e una linea,  se, ancorchè spezzata, sia continua, si dice ch’è una; e così,  anche, ciascuna parte dell’organismo, una gamba o un braccio.  A queste stesse, tuttavia, l’uno si applica meglio se sono continue naturalmente che se son tali artificialmente.   Continuo, poi, si dice ciò di cui per se stesso il movimento  è unico (?), e non può esser diverso; ed è unico il movimento  di ciò in cui esso è indivisibile, e indivisibile nel tempo.  E continuo per sè è ciò che non è uno per contatto soltanto:  che se tu ponessi dei legni l’uno accosto all’altro, non diresti  che facciano nè un legno solo, nè un sol corpo, nè un solo  continuo di altra specie.   Ciò che, comunque, è continuo, si dice uno anche se abbia  una piegatura: meglio, tuttavia, se non l’ha: la tibia o il femore, per es.; più della gamba, perchè il movimento della     Il termine che fa da soggetto nel giudizio può essere, non un individuo  (come nel par. prec.), ma un genere, o un universale (questo può anche non essere  un genere reale, ma un mero xowvév, come l'uno e l'essere, o un termine negativo,  o di rapporto: cfr. nota a I. 9, 30; VII. 2, 1)  Salvo che, ecc.: dei due accidenti uno è essenziale: cfr. nota a I. 1, 8.  Proprietà e affezione (Eku e xhdog):  cfr. nota a I. 5,8.    Cfr. Phys.,V.3-4,in cui si parla più ampiamente del continuo e dell’unità  del movimento. Il passaggio tra i due concetti (che alcuni a torto rimproverano  ad A, di unire insieme) è dato dalla concezione della natura, dianzi definita come  «la sostanza degli esseri che hanno in sè il principio del movimento », anzîi come  «il principio del movimento immanente a essi. gamba può non esser uno. E la retta è più una di quella  piegata: anzi quella piegata e che fa angolo, la diciamo e  non la diciamo una, perchè il movimento delle sue parti può  essere, ma anche non essere, simultaneo; laddove quello della  retta è sempre simultaneo, e nessuna parte di essa, che abbia  grandezza (‘), sta ferma mentre un’altra si muove, come avviene in' quella piegata.   Inoltre, si dice uno, in altro senso, ciò di cui il sostrato  non ha differenze specifiche. E non l’ha in quelle cose la cui  specie sia indivisibile alla sensazione. Tale sostrato è o quello  che si presenta per primo, o l’ultimo rispetto allo stato finale:  poichè e si dice uno il vino e una l’acqua in quanto indivisibili nella specie; e si dice uno di tutti i liquidi, come dell’olio, del vino, e di ogni cosa che possa liquefarsi, perchè il  sostrato ultimo di essi è lo stesso, essendo essi tutti acqua  o aria.   E l’unità si dice anche per quelle cose di cui unico è il  genere pur differenziato dalle opposte differenze: e tutte queste  si dice che sono una cosa sola, perchè unico è il genere che  fa da sostrato alle differenze (per es., cavallo, uomo, cane  hanno qualcosa d’uno, perchè tutti sono animali), e quasi  allo stesso modo come una è la materia (*). Talora, dunque,  l’uno si dice così di queste cose; tal’altra, quando sono le  specie infime del loro genere, si dice che sono una stessa  cosa rispetto al genere superiore: al genere, cioè, ch’è più  su del loro: così l’isoscele e l’equilatero sono la stessa e     La linea retta può roteare soltanto intorno a un punto, che resti immo bile; della spezzata, uscendo dal piano, anche una parte vera e propria (estesa)  può restar ferma.   V. par. prec.  Le linee 29-30 hanno un testo incerto, molto tormentato.  E da escludere che A. non conoscesse le regole elementari della logica ch'egli  ha insegnata alla scuola (alcuni commentatori moderni perdono, talora, questo  criterio elementare). Un senso corretto, dato il testo com'è, sembra questo: quando  si tratta delle specie infime (o generi prossimi all’individuo: cfr. III, 3, 5), la loro  unità (identità) vien riposta, nel comune modo di parlare, talora nel genere immediatamente superiore (uomo e cavallo hanno in comune l’animalità), talora in  quello ch'è più su (uomo, cavallo, cane, ecc. son tutti ugualmente esseri viventi):  così, dell'isoscele e dello scaleno diciamo che sono ugualmente figure, anzichò  triangoli.  unica figura, perchè triangoli ambedue, ma non gli stessi in  quanto triangoli.   Inoltre, uno si dice tutto ciò di cui il concetto che n’esprime  la pura essenza sia indivisibile rispetto (') a un altro esprimente del pari la pura essenza d’una cosa (chè per se stesso  ogni concetto è divisibile). Così, appunto, una cosa che aumenta o decresce è una, perchè uno è il suo concetto: come  uno è il concetto della specie per le superfici.   In generale, uno è soprattutto ciò la cui intellezione è  indivisibile, e la cui pura essenza si apprende con un atto  che non può esser separato nè quanto al tempo, nè quanto  al luogo, nè quanto al discorso (°): tali, soprattutto, sono  le sostanze. Ma, universalmente parlando, diconsi esser una  sola le cose che non ammettono divisione, in quanto non  l’ammettono: poniamo, uno è l’uomo, per le cose che non  ammettono divisione in quanto a uomo; uno l’animale, se non  l’ammettono in quanto ad animale; una la grandezza, se in  quanto a grandezza.   Dunque, la maggior parte delle cose si dicono une perchè  producono o hanno o patiscono o riguardano qualcos'altro  ch’è uno (*). Ma tali in senso primario diconsi quelle di cui        Il reds della |. 33 è generalmente inteso come « da »: si tratta, allora, di  due nozioni che o sono identiche perchè si riferiscono alla stessa cosa, o sono  specie dello stesso genere (quest’ultimo caso ripeterebbe quello «del par. prec.).  Credo giusta anche la mia interpretazione: diciamo uno un concetto (sebbene in  sè divisibile) per distinguerlo da un altro: e però, sia che la cosa aumenti o diminuisca, sia che il concetto ammetta diversità intrinseche (come le varie specie  di superfici), diciamo sempre ch'è lo stesso,    L'atto del voùg unifica il molteplice nell'unità della sostanza, la quale  è, così, indivisibile per il luogo (individui diversi), per il tempo (in cui differisce  uno stesso individuo); indefinibile, nel senso dell’analisi logico-discorsiva.  Se  alla I. 4 si conserva il ydg (ch’io ho sostituito col 8é del cod. E), allora il pensiero vien unito più strettamente al precedente, dove, infatti, io ho usato il singolare  invece del plurale per non indebolire il germe speculativo profondo ch'è in esso.  Ma qui si vede bene che A. guarda, oltre che alla cosa in sè, alle cose nella loro  molteplicità: due o più cose, per quanto diverse per altri rispetti, possono coincidere in un concetto specifico o generico, o per la figura. Se anche la 2» parte del par.  si volesse intendere nel senso della 1°, della cosa in sè, allora grandezza potrebbe  accennare, anzichè alla figura, al continuo: conforme alla distinzione nel par. seg.    « Plurima sunt, quae dicuntur unum, ex eo quod faciunt unum: sicut plures  homines dicuntur unum, ex hoc quod trahunt navem. Et etiam dicuntur aliquaà    1016 b    152 MBTAFISIOA    ‘una è la sostanza: e questa è una o per continuità, o per  specie, o per il concetto. Infatti, noi contiamo come più di  una le cose che o non sono continue, o di cui non è unica  la specie, o non è unico il concetto.   Inoltre, per un rispetto diciamo una ogni cosa che sia    continua per quantità, ma per un altro rispetto non la di  ciamo tale se non formi qualcosa d’intero: non abbia, cioè,  un’unica specie. Così, vedendo le parti di una calzatura,  comunque accozzate insieme, noi non diremmo che sono una  cosa sola, in ogni caso (se non sia per la continuità); sì bene  quando siano così disposte da essere una calzatura ed avere  giàuna qualche forma ('). Per ciò, anche, di tutte le linee  la più una è quella circolare, poichè intera e perfetta.   L'essenza dell’uno(*) è quella d’esser un principio del  numero. Poichè la prima misura è un principio: e ciò per  cui noi cominciamo a conoscere ciascun genere di cose,  quello è la misura prima di esso. L’uno è, dunque, principio del conoscibile per ogni genere di cose. Ma esso non  è lo stesso per tutti i generi: qui è il diesis(*), ll la vocale  o la consonante; e altra è l’unità per il peso, altra per il  movimento.    unum, ex eo quod unum patiuntur: sicut multi homines sunt unus populus, ex e0  quod ab uno rege reguntur. Quaedam vero dicuntur unum ex eo quod habent aliquid  unum, sicut multi possessores unius agri sunt unum in dominio eius. Quaedam  etiam dicuntur unum ex hoc quod sunt aliquid unum: sicut multi homines albi  dicuntur unum, quia quilibet eorum albus est» (S. Tom., 868).  Queste cose si  dicon une riferendosi 24 altro ch'è uno. Invece, la distinzione, che segue, riguarda  direttamente le cose per la continuità (4-6), per la specie (8), per il concetto logicamente considerato 0 nell'atto del vovs (9-10). Manca l'unità per la materia (7).  E il concetto è staccato dalla specie, con cui pure altre volte coincide (ma specie,  qui, equivale a genere reale, è però il concetto si avvicina più all’universale).    Nel concreto è, così, l’unità reale dei due punti di vista dell'unità: materiale (il continuo) e formale (il concetto).    Si passa alla pura essenza dell'uno: alla definizione del concetto puro  (diremmo noi). Cfr. lib. X. 1, 8 8 8., dove quanto segue, e gran parte di questo capitolo, è rielaborato con maggiore chiarezza.   (9) Il diesis è l'intervallo minimo in musica: cfr. X. 1, 11-12. Non si scordi  che, sebbene qui con qualche inconveniente, ho tradotto povés con unità, ch'è  per noi il termine aritmetico corrente. Il punto ha una @&éaw, si può localizzare. Ma in ogni caso l’uno è indivisibile o per la quantità o  per la specie. Ora, l’indivisibile nella quantità (e come quantità) si chiama unità, se è indivisibile in ogni verso e non    ha posto; ma se è indivisibile per ogni verso, e tuttavia ha.    un posto, si chiama punto; se divisibile in una sola dimensione, linea; se in due, superficie; se in tutte e tre, corpo  (quantitativamerite considerato). E all’inverso, ciò ch’è divisibile in due dimensioni, è superficie; in una sola, linea; ciò  che quantitativamente non è divisibile per nessun verso, punto  e unità: questa non ha posto, quello sì.   Inoltre, l’unità delle cose può essere o per il numero,  o per la specie, o per il genere, o per analogia: c’è unità  numerica dove la materia è unica, specifica quando unico è  il concetto, generica quando lo schema categorico è lo  stesso, analogica quando due cose stanno tra loro come  una cosa a un’altra. E i modi precedenti implicano sempre  quelli che vengon dopo: così, dove l’unità è numerica, è anche  specifica, ma dov’è specifica non sempre è numerica; e se è  specifica, è anche generica, ma, se è generica, non però è  anche specifica, sì analogica; ma se analogica, non è generica  sempre (').   È poi evidente che le cose si diranno molte in sensi Opposti a quelli dell’uno: o perchè non hanno continuità; o  perchè hanno una materia (sia la prima o l’ultima) che si  può dividere in varie specie; o perchè sono parecchi i concetti che ne esprimono la pura essenza (?).     Come bene osserva il Ross, questo paragrafo corrisponde ai $$ 7-10, così come  i precedenti 13-14 a 4-6. Prima, infatti, A. ha distinti quelli che si possono chiamare i vari gradi di concretezza dell'unità dal punto di vista quantitativo; qui  egli distingue i vari gradi di concretezza dell'unità dal punto di vista qualitativo.  L'unità numerica, infatti, è qui quella dell’ individuo del tutto determinato, il quale  implica in sè tutte le altre specie di unità. La più astratta di queste è l’analogica,  la quale non è sempre generica, perchè può essere tra generi diversi.  Lo schema  categorico: nota qui il termine categoria usato come equivalente a genere (le categorle, infatti, sono come i generi sommi dei predicati).    La distinzione è in corrispondenza è quella dell’unità essenziale delle  cose. Essere (') si dice di una cosa o per accidente, o in sè.    1    Per accidente (*): se diciamo, per es., che «il giusto è 2    musico », 0 che « l’uomo è musico», oche « îl musico è uomo »;  in senso simile a quello in cui si direbbe che il musico costruisce una casa, perchè a chi la costruisce accade d’esser  musico, o al musico di esser un costruttore. Dire, infatti,  », «l’intera acqua», salvo che per  traslato. E per il plurale di tutto (*), quando delle cose con- 6  siderate come unità si dice tutto, di esse si dice tutte considerandole come divise: « tutto questo numero », «tutte  queste unità ».    LI    CapitoLo XXVII.    Mutilato (*) non si dice in tutti i casi d’una cosa fornita 1  di quantità: dev'essere e divisibile e un intero. Infatti, non  diciamo d’aver mutilato il due, se gli togliamo una delle due  unità (la parte mutilata nom può esser mai uguale alla rimanente), nè diciamo così in generale per nessun numero.  Bisogna che la sostanza rimanga: se si tratta di una coppa,  dev’essere ancora coppa. Invece, il numero non è più lo  Stesso. E non hasta neppure che una cosa sia composta di  parti dissimili, poichè il numero può avere anch’esso parti  dissimili: il due e il tre, per es. (‘). Anzi, in generale, delle  cose per le quali la situazione delle parti è indifferente, come  per l’acqua o il fuoco, nessuna può esser mutilata: per esser  tali, bisogna che le parti abbiano una situazione sostanziale.  Inoltre, che sian continue: chè l’armonia consta, bensì, di  parti dissimili, le quali hanno una ior situazione, ma non  perciò può venir mutilata. E neppur tutte le cose intere di- 2 La figura in cera.    aévra. Qui l'unità è totalità come somma.   (9) xo4ofiév: il concetto, qui, è quello che noi opponiamo all’#Xov inteso  come «integrità », specialmente di un organismo.    Il due e il tre, nel cinque (== 2-|--3, oppure 3-+-2).    LS)    VI    LIBRO QUINTO 183    ventan mutilate col privarle di una qualunque parte. Bisogna  che questa parte non sia la principale per la sostanza (');  nè è indifferente chesi prenda di qua o di Jà: per es., se  la coppa ha un buco, non perciò si dice mutilata, ma se si  asporta il manico o un pezzetto dell’orlo. Nè si dice mutilato  un uomo se gli si levi un po’ di carne o la milza, ma un’estremità; e neppure una qualunque, bensì una che asportata per  intero non cresce più: perciò i calvi non si chiamano mutilati. Genere si dice, in un senso, se sia continua la generazione  di esseri aventi la stessa specie: diciamo, ad es., « finchè  duri il genere umano », per dire «finchè continui la generazione degli uomini». In un altro, è quello di una gente  venuta all'essere da un lor primo genitore: e così si parla  del genere degli Elleni e degli Ioni, perchè quelli vengono  dal progenitore Elleno, questi da Ione. E i discendenti prendon nome piuttosto dal genitore, che dalla materia (?): benchè  prendan nome anche dalla femmina, per es. quei di Pirra.  Genere, inoltre, è come il piano per le figure piane, il solido  per le solide: poichè ogni figura è un piano di questa specie,  un solido di questa specie. Genere è qui il sostrato delle differenze. Inoltre, genere è il primo elemento costitutivo del  concetto, che si enuncia nell’essenza (*), di cui chiamansi  differenze le qualità. Genere, dunque, è usato in tutti questi  sensi: per la generazione continua di esseri della stessa specie;  per il principio generatore di esseri somiglianti; in un senso  affine alla materia (‘): poichè ciò di cui son proprie la dif      Come la testa per un animale.    Dalla materia (cfr. VIII. 4, 4), la quale è fornita, nella generazione,  dalla femmina.    Nella definizione.    In un senso affine alla materia è il genere inteso come sostrato delle  qualità specifiche differenziali (reale e concettuale: solito passaggio dall'oggetto  al pensiero, e viceversa: di qui l’unificazione dei sensi dati in 3 e 4: ferenza e la qualità, è appunto quel sostrato che chiamiamo  materia.   Diverse di genere sidicono quelle cose di cui diverso è  il sostrato primo ('), e l'una non si risolve nell’altra, nè  tutte due nello stesso (la forma, ad es., e la materia sono  diverse per il genere); e quelle di cui si parla secondo una  diversa figura delle categorie dell’essere (le une significano  l'essenza delle cose, altre una qualità, altre come s’è distinto dianzi): chè neanche queste si risolvono le une nelle  altre, nè in qualcosa di unico. Il «falso » dicesi, in un modo, come cosa che è falsa (*);  e questo o perchè la cosa non risulta così composta, o perchè  è impossibile che si componga così: per es., se si dica che     Sostrato primo è quello immediato, se si pensa, ad cs., a ciò che può  liquefarsi (acqua), e a ciò che ha un sostrato solido (terra). Ma l’interpretazione  non è sicura.  Nello stesso: può esser inteso come «cosa» o come «concetto »:  nel 1° senso riguarda i! sostrato, e chiarisce quel che precede; nel 2° chiarisce  la parentesi, e quel che segue ‘i diversi significati, o concetti, dell'essere nelle  categorie).  S'è distinto dianzi: cap. 7, 4. ;    Per A., altrove, vero e falso son nel pensiero, non nelle cose; e il pensiero  è che unisce e divide (distingue) i concetti giudicando (affermando o negando la  convenienza del predicato al soggetto): cfr. VI. 4, 3-4: IX. 10, 1 s8.  L'ordine  de' pensieri in proposito sembra dover esser questo. A. parte da un realismo  ingenuo, ch'è anche un ingenuo idealismo: realtà e pensiero si condizionano  reciprocamente, identificandosi e distinguendosi insieme, come segue: ca) Si  comincia col porre il pensiero nelle cose, e si parla di cose vere e di cose  false. Una prima riflessione avverte che il vero e falso è nel pensiero, non nelle  cose, e distingue perciò il pensiero dalle cose. Queste, allora, al sicuro da quel  pensiero che può esser falso oltre che vero, restano con una loro realtà ch'è  insieme la loro verità (eterna e immutabile nella pura essenza, contingente per  quel che di questa si traduce nella realtà in movimento). b) Il pensiero è vero 0  falso secondo che riflette in sè la realtà, o meno, delle cose. Ma nna prima riflessione avverte che non sono le cose a determinare la verità o falsità del pensiero:  poichè tanto dell’essere quanto del non-essere si può pensare il vero e il falso  (IV. 7, 2). Vero e falso sono, allora, caratteri del pensiero in sè e per sè: vero è  il pensiero ch'è coerente con se stesso, falso il pensiero incoerente. Un cerchio è  cerchio, nel mio pensiero che lo definisce, in quanto lo distinguo dal triangolo:  confonder questo con quello è contraddire a quanto e’è definito.Ma, poichè il    \i    LIBRO QUINTO 185    la diagonale è commensurabile, o che tu stai seduto: di  queste due, l’una è sempre falsa, l’altra talvolta. Dette così,  queste cose non esistono. In altri casi, esistono bensi le cose,  ma di tal natura da apparire o quali non sono, o quali non  esistono: la prospettiva dipinta, ad es., e i sogni: cose, queste,  che hanno bensì una loro realtà, ma non quella di cui producono in noi l’immagine. Le cose, dunque, si dicono false,  in questo modo: o perchè non esistono, o perchè l’immagine  che producono è di cosa che non esiste. ‘  Un concetto falso è quello che, in quanto falso, è di cose  che non sono. Perchè ogni concetto è falso se riferito a cosa  diversa da quella di cui è vero: per es., il concetto del cerchio è falso del triangolo. In un senso, c’è un concetto unico  di ogni cosa, quello della pura essenza; in un altro i concetti  sono molti, poichè la cosa da sè e la cosa con un’affezione  è in certo modo la stessa cosa: per es., Socrate e Socrate  musico ('). Il concetto falso, assolutamente parlando, è concetto di nulla. Perciò era abbastanza sciocca l’opinione di  Antistene che di nulla si possa parlare salvo che col suo  proprio concetto, unico per un’unica cosa: donde seguiva  che non è possibile contraddire, e quasi neppure dir il falso.    pensiero è per se stesso coerenza e logicità, esso, in Sè e per sè, è sempre vero:  d’una verità eterna, immutabile, come quella della pura essenza (indivisibile), e  insieme discorsiva, per quel che di essa si traduce nel processo del conoscere  e del sapere (nella logica dei concetti). Questo è il rapporto tra il n0vs (sempre  vero) e la dianoia (vera o falsa): tra il concetto nella sun pura unità e intrinseca intelligibilità, e il concetto che si esplica nella molteplicità dei concetti  e delle opinioni. c) Il pensiero falso è un non-pensiero in rapporto a quel pensiero ch'è sempre vero. E tuttavia esso ha, e deve avere, una sua realtà, in  quel pensiero che in tanto può affermare il vero in quanto c'è il falso da negare.  Donde, allora, la realtà di questo pensiero-falso ? Donde questa decadenza del  pensiero nel falso? Pare che la soluzione debba trovarsi in qualcosa di estraneo  e tuttavia legato al pensiero: nella volontà dell’:como. Il Sofista rappresenta questo  difetto del pensiero ch'è anche un difetto morale (l'ambizione, il guadagno, ece.:  efr. «il tenore di vita» in IV. 2, 14).  La vicinanza al pensiero platonico è evidente: specialmente con le indagini del Teeteto e del Sofista.    La cosa nell’unità colta dal nous, e la cosa nella molteplicità delle sue  categorie (dianoia).  L'opinione di Antistene, con quell’unità-identità del concetto-nome, era ben lontana dalla dottrine su esposta di A.: essa rendeva impos‘ sibile la logica dianoetica, e riduceva quella noetica a mero nominalismo.    1025 a    186 METAFISICA    Invece, di ciascuna cosa si può parlare non soltanto col conceito di essa, ma anche con quello di altra: anche del tutto  falsamente, senza dubbio, ma anche in modo conforme a  verità: l’otto, poniamo, dico ch’è doppio perchè ho il concetto  del due.   Queste cose, dunque, si dicono false così. Falso, poi, si  dice un uomo che abbia abilità e predilezione per simili discorsi per nessun'altra ragione che per discorrere così; e chi  è capace di produrli in altri, a quel modo che diciamo false  anche le cose che producono in noi immagini false. Perciò  nell’ Ippia (') quel ragionamento, che vuol] provare come uno  stesso uomo è falso e vero, conduce fuori di strada: perchè  dà come falso chi ha la capacità di dir il falso, ch’è, poi,  colui che sa ed è sapiente; e aggiunge ch’è migliore chi è  cattivo volontariamente. Questa è la conseguenza di una falsa  induzione: chi zoppica volontariamente è migliore di chi  zoppica per forza: intendendo per zoppicare l’imitare lo zoppo;  ma se uno fosse zoppo volontariamente, egli sarebbe forse  peggiore, qui, come in cose riguardanti il costume.    CapitoLo XXX.    Accidente (?) significa ciò che appartiene a qualcosa e  può esser detto con verità, ma non necessariamente, nè per lo  più: come se uno scavando un fosso per una pianta trovasse  un tesoro. Questo, di trovare un tesoro, è davvero un accidente per chi scava un fosso: non è una cosa che consegua  necessariamente dall’altra o dopo l’altra, nè chi pianta un  albero trova per lo più un tesoro. E chi ha l’abilità di suonare può esser bianco, ma poichè ciò non avviene di necessità, nè per lo più, diciamo ch’è un accidente. Di maniera     Ippia minore, 365 ss. Platone erra, dunque: @) non distinguendo la potenza dall'atto di mentire; è) reputando migliore chi erra volontariamente. Per  quest'ultimo punto, cfr. Eth. Nic. che, poichè si danno tali appartenenze, e appartengono a  qualcosa, e alcune di esse solo in certi luoghi e tempi, sarà  un accidente ciò che appartiene, bensì, a qualcosa, ma non  perchè è questa tal cosa, ed è qui e ora('). Dell’accidente  non c’è nessuna causa determinata, ma è a caso, e questo  è indeterminato. È accaduto a qualcuno di arrivare ad Egina,  il quale non era partito per arrivare colà, ma cacciato dalla  tempesta o preso dai corsari. L’accidente avvenne, di certo,  e realmente, ma non per causa di se stesso, bensì in causa  di altro: perchè la tempesta fu causa che quegli arrivasse  dove non era diretto, cioè ad Egina.   Accidente, poi, dicesi anche in altro modo: di tutte quelle  proprietà, ad es., che sono di una cosa per se stessa considerata, ma non appartengono alla sua sostanza (*): per  esempio, appartiene al triangolo di avere gli angoli uguali a  due retti. Questi accidenti posson essere eterni; di quegli  altri, invece, nessuno: abbiam parlato di ciò altrove.     Ed è qui e ora: come l’appartenere a qualcosa non individua la sostanza  di questa tal cosa, così l’appartenere in certi luoghi e tempi non dà ragione dell'attualità di essa.    Alla sua sostanza, o definizione: per es., del triangolo: sebbene ne derivino. È compito della scienza, infatti, dimostrare, poi, le proprietà (accidentali, ma in entrambi i sensi: tà aédn xal tà xa” autà cvpfefinxéta) del proprio  oggetto di studio: cfr. Anal. Post., I. 1. 75b, 1.  Abbiam parlato di ciò altrove:  pare riferirsi ad Anal. Post. Quel che qui si cerca sono i principii e le cause degli  esseri: s'intende, in quanto sono. Poichè c’è pure una causa  della salute e del benessere, e anche le entità matematiche  hanno principii, elementi e cause: in generale, anzi, ogni  scienza di ragionamento, o che del ragionamento si serva  almeno in parte('), versa intorno alle cause e ai principii,  pur con più o meno di esattezza e semplicità (?). Ma tutte  queste scienze son circoscritte a un ente e genere particolare, e di esso soltanto trattano, nè fan nessuna parola di  ciò che è l’essere semplicemente: nè di ciò che è l’ente in  quanto tale, nè dell'essenza. Invece, le une dichiarando il  loro oggetto per mezzo del senso, e le altre (*) stabilendone  per mezzo di ipotesi la definizione, dimostrano, più o meno  debolmente, più o meno rigorosamente, le proprietà del genere preso in considerazione. È dunque evidente che da un     « Videtur A. ambitum scientiae latius extendere voluisse, ut ne eae quidem  doctrinae excludantur, quae ab usu et experientia magis quam a cognitione et  notione suspensae sint»: Bonitz (p. 280).    Esattezza e semplicità corrispondono al «rigorosamente » e « debolmente »  del paragrafo seguente. «Semplicità», qui, vale « mancanza di approfondimento e di  distinzione » (le cose così come si presentano immediatamente): cfr. I. 5, 22. Poco  dopo, « semplicemente » vale, invece, « assolutamente ».   (9) Le une... le altre: le fisiche e le matematiche.tal metodo induttivo (') non si può aver dimostrazione nè  della sostanza nè dell’essenza, ma per esse ha da esserci  un’altra specie di conoscenza che le chiarisca. Per la stessa  ragione non dicon nulla se il genere preso a trattare esiste  o non esiste: poichè appartiene alla stessa facoltà del pensiero il mettere in chiaro tanto l’essenza quanto l’esistenza (°).   Ma in quanto anche la scienza fisica (°) versa intorno a  un genere dell’essere (la sostanza ch’essa studia è quella  che ha in sè il principio del movimento e dell’inerzia), è  chiaro ch’essa non riguarda nè l’agire nè il produrre (‘).     La frase pare interpolata al Christ. Il riferimento par che sia Alle scienze  fisiche, come quelle che trattano della sostanza ed essenza reale, assumendola  nella materia sensibile. Di essa non posson dare dimostrazione, appunto perchè  agegunta per principio (dàuno dimostrazione delle qualità e proprietà dell’oggetto). Il Metafisico, neanche lui, dimostra nel senso della dimostrazione, che  parte da principii per arrivare a certe conchiusioni. Essa, infatti, è la scienza dei  principii stessi, 6 però anapodittica: non nel senso dogmatico, ma in quanto si  serve «di un'altra specie di conoscenza », che « chiarisce » speculativamente quei  principii riconducendoli ai principii primi, anzi al principio primo, ch’è l’essere  în quanto essere.   Principii primi sono le quattro cause, discusse nel lib. I; ovvero, materia e  forma, potenza e atto, che verranno studiati nei libri VII-IX, e ricondotti a quello  della forma, o dell’atto (in sè e per sè: all’atto puro, come principio trascendente,  nel lib. XII). Ovvero, le categorie e gli altri concetti fondamentali întorno all’essere, esposti nel lib. V., Principii primi sono anche, per il pensiero discorsivo,  gli assiomi, di cui il primo è quello di non-contraddizione, come si vide nel  lib, IV. Dal punto di vista gnoseologico, principii primi sono il singolare e gli  universali, e la loro fonte è il voùs (come principio anche dell’ato&mors: cfr. note  al. 1,409, 34)    Nell'’ordine della scienza empirica A. distingue la conoscenza dell'&, da  quella del &uéti, facendo poi coincidere con quest’ultima quella del tL èotw:  efr. Anal. Post., II. 1. 89Db, 24; 2. 90 a, 14 (e qui stesso al lib. I. 1, 11). Non si dia,  tuttavia, un senso troppo moderno alla distinzione (di un contrasto tra pensiero  ed esistenza reale delle cose): l’esistenza implica già l'essenza, come il singolare  l’universale, nell'atto della percezione (immediata); e l’essenza, se non vuol esser  un xowév, si traduce nell'esistenza (immediatamente): la pura 6ssenzea è sempre  un tébde tr. Nell’8v fi 6v, poi, essenza ed esistenza s’identificano (perchè la sua  universalità è anche necessità).    Anche di qui si vede l'interesse maggiore che A. ha per la fisica, più che  per la matematica: il confine, in fatti, tra alcune sue trattazioni di fisica e altre  di metafisica non è sempre chiaro.    L'agire... il produrre: v. la differenza in Eth. Nic., VI. 4; e nota a I.1,16.  In entrambi, tuttavia, il principio è in noi (per la produzione: o l'intelligenza,  il pensiero razionale, o questo unito a un certo abito o potenza naturale; per  l’azione è l’Seskw, che congiunta con la ragione si fa agoalpsois: cfr. Eth. Nic.,    LIBRO SESTO 191    Poichè il principio della produzione è in chi produce: o l’intelligenza, o l’arte, o altra potenza; il principio dell’azione  è in chi agisce, ed è il proponimento (potendosi tradurre in  azione soltanto ciò che ci si può proporre). Per cui, se ogni  ragionamento è fatto o per l’agire o per il produrre, ovvero  riguarda la pura speculazione, la Fisica sarà una scienza  speculativa, ma speculativa di un essere tale che ha la potenza di muoversi, e della sostanza tratta soltanto secondo  nozioni che valgono per lo più, non separata dalla materia (').,  Si badi di non ignorare il modo di essere della pura essenza  e del concetto, perchè, senza di ciò, è tempo perso ogni ricerca. Delle definizioni e delle essenze alcune sono come  quella di « camuso » (?), altre come quella di « curvo », i quali  differiscono in questo, che in camuso è compresa sempre la  materia (camuso diciamo un naso che ha una certa curva),  la curvità, invece, è compresa senza materia sensibile. Se,  quindi, tutti gli oggetti della fisica s'intendono similmente  a camuso (ad es., naso occhio fisionomia carne osso, animale  in somma; ovvero, foglia radice scorza, pianta in somma: tutte  cose in cui non si può prescindere dal movimento, anzi neppure  sono mai senza materia)  è già con ciò chiarito il modo in  cui il fisico deve ricercare e definire l’essenza delle cose; e  perchè sia ufficio suo lo speculare anche intorno a un genere di anima, a quello che non esiste senza la materia (*).   Che dunque la fisica sia una scienza speculativa, è evidente. Ma scienza speculativa è anche la matematica: se i       III. 3); laddove il principio del movimento studiato dalla fisica è nella sostanza  naturale delle cose.  Alle Il. 22 e 23 è opportuna la correzione proposta dal  Bonitz, attuata dal Ross, di rountov e rgaxtov invece di romtimov e reaxtiNbv.    Il «per lo più» è proprio delle cose fornite di materia, come si dirà fra  poco; e «ogni scienza è o di ciò ch'è sempre o di ciò ch'è per lo più» (2, 12).  Mapotengo, dunque, la mia interpretazione (Bonitz, seguendo Aless.: « tratta della  sostanza per lo più come forma piuttosto che come materia, solo che non come  forma che possa esistere separata dalla materia»; Ross: «tratta della sostanza  nel senso della forma per lo più unicamente come inseparabile dalla materia»).    Camuso: v. VII. 5.  Senza materia sensibile: i. e. con materia soltanto  intelligibile (6. vonti: qui, l'estensione pura).    Non esiste senza materia l’anima, salvo il vovs, che non ha nessun organo  corporeo (De An., suoi oggetti siano immobili ed abbiano esistenza separata,  non abbiamo tuttavia ancora chiarito ('). Per ora si può ammettere come chiaro questo, che alcune delle scienze matematiche considerano i loro oggetti in quanto immobili e separabili. Ma se qualcosa esiste di eterno immobile e separato,  non è dubbio che la conoscenza di esso appartiene a una  scienza speculativa, la quale non sarà certamente la fisica  (che riguarda soltanto alcune cose mobili), e neppure la matematica, ma una scienza superiore ad entrambe. Infatti la  fisica studia ciò che esiste separatamente , ma non è immobile; delle matematiche alcune studiano, invece, ciò che è  immobile, ma non separato in fine perchè esiste nella materia. Soltanto la scienza che è prima studia ciò che è separato e immobile. E se tutte le cause sono necessariamente  eterne (*), queste lo saranno soprattutto, perchè esse sono  causa di quelli tra gli enti divini che risplendono nel cielo.   Le scienze filosofico-speculative son dunque tre: la matematica, la fisica, la teologia (‘). Non è dubbio che, se il  divino esiste, esso si trova in una natura quale s’è detta  dianzi, e la scienza onorevolissima deve esser questa che ha     V.libri XIII e XIV, e per quel che segue, quanto alla matematica, XIII. 2-4.  Le matematiche pure studiano oggetti immobili: ricorda in III. 2, 18, dove tra  le scienze matematiche vengon citate l'astronomia, l'ottica e l’armonica (che son  più vicine alla fisica); e per la distinzione e gerarchia delle varie scienze matematiche, v. IV. 2, 7 (la metafisica sta alla fisica come la matematica pura a  quella applicata).    La fisica studia ciò che esiste separatamente, odolar, delle quali mostra  (dimostra) le qualità e proprietà (queste, invece, non esistono separatamente: i. @.,  non hanno una propria esistenza). Alla |. 14 i codici dànno aybguota (e allora:  la fisica studia «ciò che non esiste separato », i. e. la forma nella materia, ece.);  la correzione, in ywguotd, proposta dallo Schwegler e accettata dal Christ, dù  maggior simmetria al rapporto tra fisica matematica e teologia.  Non si scordi  che yxwguotév è una forma comune a due concetti per noi molto diversi: il separabile e il separato.    Intendi, le cause prime, i principii in generale, reali o ideali: queste (Dio  e le Intelligenze motrici) sono cause reali, e però eterne a muggior diritto ancora dei cieli (che son cause seconde) pur eterni.    Su le ragioni del nome (già in Platone, Rep., II, 379 a) e su la superiorità  della filosofia, cfr. anche I. 2. Se il divino esiste: il tono è, ovviamente, tutt'altro che dubitativo.    LIBRO SESTO 193    l’oggetto più onorevole. E come le scienze speculative son  da preferire alle altre scienze, così questa tra le speculative.   Qualcuno potrebbe domandare se la « filosofia prima» è  universale, ovvero se versa intorno a un genere determinato  e a un’unica natura di esseri (‘).        Dicemmo (in nota a IV. 1, 1) che dell’essere in quanto essere, oggetto  della metafisica, si danno in A. due significati principali: l’uno in riguardo piuttosto alla realtà delle coso che sono oggetto del pensiéro, l’altro in riguardo  piuttosto al pensiero che le pensa.   Per il primo rispetto, studiare l'essere in quanto essere, è studiare i principii  e cause prime ci tutto ciò ch’esiste, e in primo luogo quell’ Essere primo ch'è  indipendente dalla natura e sottratto a ogni forma del divenire. Onde la metafisica vien qui definita @e0%40yuxf) (6 6, e nel passo corrispondente del lib. XI. 7, 7);  e già nel lib, I. 2, 20 vedemmo dare a questa scienza il titolo di «divina», nel  duplice senso, ch'è iù degna di Dio, e ch’è del divino nel mondo. Di qui,  anche, veniva accennata la superiorità di essa alle altre scienze e conobcenze in  generale, le quali non arrivano a porsi in quella purezza, dignità e autonomia,  ch’ è propria del sapere filosofico.   In questo capitolo viene introdotta per la prima volta una distinzione netta tra  le scienze poietiche come le arti, quelle pratiche come l'etica, e quelle che sono  puramente teoretiche. La distinzione, mentre eleva le matematiche e fisiche al  novero delle scienze teoretiche, determina la differenza tra esse e la metafisica  più chiaramente in riguardo al genero de' loro oggetti. Dio è separato, esiste  indipendentemente dalla quos; e così anche le Intelligenze motrici: il divino  (si vedrà nel lib, XII) forma come un'altra « natura» o « usia ». La fisica studia  esseri che hanno un'esistenza propria, ma non sottratti al movimento; la matematica studia esseri immobili, considerati separatamente, ma per astrazione, in  realtà non esistenti separatamente. Soltanto la teologia studia esseri separati e  immobili: e la perfezione di questi è ciò che dà la superiorità della metafisica su  le altre scienze teoretiche.   Una riflessione, non più teologica e oggettiva nel senso or detto, sul principio  primo di tutti i principii, ma conforme al secondo modo di considerare l'oggetto  della metafisica, mira piuttosto al lato formale delle cose. Dio è pura forma;  ma anche le cose sono in se stesse quel che sono per la forma pura, indipendentemente dalla materia a cui questa è unita nel sinolo. Questa non è «separata »,  ma è bene «separabile», nel senso che, pur non esistendo separatamente (contro'  il platonismo, a cui la precedente affermazione può condurre), tuttavia il suo  essere, in sè e per sè, non dipende dalla materia (è la pura essenza, o intelligi-.  bilità pura, delle cose). Qui, la differenza tra la metafisica e le altre scienze gi  presenta in altro aspetto. La fisica studia, bensì, anch'essa, ciò ch'è separabile  (la forma), ma non fuori della materia, onde le sue nozioni non hanno vera universalità, perchè la materia, com'è causa della divisione dei generi nelle cose,  così impedisce che l’universale si realizzi nella sua assolutezza. La matematica,  poi, studia bensì le cose da un punto di vista formale; ma questo è il risultato  di un'astrazione posteriore alla realtà delle cose (XIII. 3), mentre l'astrazione  del metafisico vuol cogliere il medtegov concreto di esse (XIII. 2, 12), il loro a  priori puro (VII. 1, 4; 3, 10; 17, 8-10; VIII. 3, 3-4).   Di qui, anche: soltanto la metafisica studia l’essere &xA@g ($$ 1-2). Le fisiche Anche nelle scienze matematiche, infatti, c’ è diversità:  la geometria e l’astronomia studiano oggetti di una particolare natura, e c’ è una scienza matematica universale comune  a tutte. Se, dunque, non ci fosse nessun’altra sostanza fuori  di quelle formate dalla natura, la fisica sarebbe la prima di  tutte le scienze. Ma se c’è una sostanza immobile, essa sarà  superiore alle altre, e la scienza di essa sarà la prima filosofia, la quale, essendo la prima, è universale, in questo  senso. Essa avrà il compito di speculare intorno all'essere  in quanto essere: la sua essenza, cioè, e le determinazioni  che, in quanto essere, gli appartengono.    matematiche non hanno quest'assolutezza, perchò non considerano le cose per la  pura ossenza, ma quel che sono per la conoscenza sensibile (le fisiche), o per In  quantità soltanto (le matematiche), della quale formano concetti e definizioni  che hanno soltanto tale esistenza ipotetica: in entrambi i casi non trattano di  quel ch’ò il principio primo dell'esistenza di tutto ciò che dè. In conchiusione, s01tanto l'oggetto della metafisica ha veramente i caratteri dell’universalità e necessità: chò le altre scienze son circoscritte a un genere particolare di cose  (IV. 1), e di esso studiano gli accitlenti qualitativi o quantitativi, con quell'esattezza e profondità, maggiore o minore, ch'è possibile secondo i vari genori di  cose e de’ loro accidenti: assoluta, non mai.   Il teologismo della prima concezione è d'ispirazione schiettamente platonica:  la seconda è orientata verso un concetto dell'essere analogo a quello del trascendentale moderno, e, comunque, criticamente definito. Una terza concezione risulta  dall’ interferenza delle prime due: il principio formale della seconda si abbassa  al realismo della prima, e nello stesso tempo il realismo «i questa scopre nel  fondo stesso delle cose un principio ideale come in quella (ch'è ancora uno  sviluppo dell’ultimo Platone). La realtà più vera e profonda delle cose non è  quella corporea, di cui trattano le scienze fisiche e matematiche (0 come i Presocratici considerarono la natura); ma è la forma che si realizza nell'universo  in una molteplicità e gradualità di forme, o pure essenze. E sarà dell'oggetto  della metafisica come di quello delle altre scienze, per es. delle matematiche:  esso avrà parti, ordinate gerarchicamente in ragione della purezza, maggiore o  minore, che ha la forma ne’ vari gradi del suo svolgimento attraverso le cose  (efr. anche IV. 2, 4 e 7). Così è anche delle parti dell'anima, il cui sviluppo va  da quella più legata al corpo sino a quel Nous, ch'è principio e fine dell'essere  nella sua pura immaterialità e perfetta intelligibilità.   In quest'ultimo paragrafo A. sembra avvertire le difficoltà di tale interferenza:  l'oggetto della metafisica differisce da quello delle altre scienze perchò di un  genere diverso? Come, allora, la metafisica è una scienza universale? E il principio formate è unico 0 molteplice? Glì esseri non hanno un'unica natura. Ma,  Be è molteplice, non rischia, l'essere in quanto essere, di ridursi a un xowévy, 2  una mera astrazione? Per la soluzione di queste difficoltà, v. nota a VII. 11, 11.    ro    DI  Dell’essere semplicemente detto si parla in molti sensi.  Di questi uno si disse (') che era quello di accidente, un  altro quello di vero (e di falso, per il non-essere). Oltre di  questi, ci sono le forme o figure dell’essere come categoria:  ciò che è una cosa, quale, quanto, dove, quando, e se altri  significati ci sono, dell’essere in. questo modo. Non basta:  l'essere si dice anche o in potenza o in atto.   Dicendosi, dunque, in molti sensi, cominciamo da quello  di accidente, per mostrare che di esso non ci può essere  scienza. Già un indizio di ciò si ha nel fatto che nessuna  scienza, nè pratica nè poietica nè teoretica, si cura di esso.  Chi fabbrica una casa, non fa insieme nulla di ciò che alla  casa può accadere poi: gli accidenti sono infiniti: nulla vieta  che la casa fatta sia piacevole agli uni, incomoda per altri,  ad altri invece sia utile, ed abbia, insomma, quelle differenze  che ha ogni cosa nel mondo: ma niente di tutto ciò riguarda  l’arte di fabbricare. Parimenti, neanche il geometra studia  simili accidenti delle figure, nè se un triangolo è diverso  dall'altro, pur che la somma degli angoli sia di due retti (?).  Ed è giusto che così avvenga, perchè l’accidente è poco più  che un nome soltanto. Per ciò Platone (*) in certo modo non  a torto assegnò alla Sofistica per oggetto il non-essere: chè  i discorsi dei Sofisti quasi sempre, si può dire, versano intorno all’accidente. Ad es.: se sia la stessa cosa o diversa        Cfr. V. 7.    Due interpretazioni sono state date: 1) quella di Alessandro (alla quale  si avvicina la mia): il geometra non cura se il triangolo da lui definito, come  quella tal figura geometrica che ha gli angoli uguali a due retti, è lo stesso di  un triangolo di legno, di pietra, ecc.; 2) quella avanzata dallo Schwegler e  difesa dal Ross: il geometra non cura questioni, come quelle che fanno i Sofisti,  per es., se dir triangolo e dir triangolo di cui la somma degli angoli è uguale a  due retti sia lo stesso, o no (il Sofista, infatti, se si risponde di sì, sostituisce alla  prima parola la dicitura seguente, e così sempre, all'infinito). Questa seconda è  più fedele alla lettera del testo, la prima è più conforme al pensiero svolto nel  paragrafo.    Sofista, l'esser musico e grammatico; se Corisco e Corisco musico  siano lo stesso o no; ovvero sostengono che, dato che tutto  ciò che è, ma non è eterno, divenne, se uno essendo musico  divenne grammatico, si può dir anche che essendo grammatico divenne musico ('); e tutti gli altri discorsi di questo  genere, dai quali si vede bene che l’accidente è qualcosa di  molto vicino al non-essere.   E anche da considerazioni di questo generè: che delle  cose che sono in altro senso c’è il processo del nascere e  ‘ perire (7), ma di quelle che sono per accidente non c’è. Tuttavia convien parlarne ancora, fin dove si può, per mostrare  qual*è la natura sua, e quale la sua causa. Forse chiariremo  con questo anche perchè di esso non c’è scienza.   Degli esseri ce ne sono di quelli che sono sempre a un  modo e di necessità (non intendo della necessità per violenza (*), ma di quella che consiste nel non poter essere  altrimenti), «altri non sono di necessità, nè sempre a un modo,  ma soltanto per lo più. Di qui il principio, di qui la causa  dell’esistenza dell’accidente (*). Noi, infatti, chiamiamo accidente ciò che non è nè sempre nè per lo più: per es., se  al tempo della canicola faccia un freddo invernale, noi di   Il primo sofisma vuol porre l'identità insieme alla diversità dei due termini (in quanto uno è, o no, l’una e l’altra cosa insieme). Col secondo si tenta  il processo all’infinito (come per il triangolo, in nota prec.). Col terzo, facendo  prima sostantivo l’uno dei due termini e l’altro aggettivo, e viceversa; poi, confrontando, si trova che uno era già primayciò che doveva diventare (il musico è  grammatico, perchè lo divenne: il grammatico ora è musico, e lo è perchè divenne tale. ecc.).    La generazione, come processo del nascere e perire, riguarda la sostanza  propriamente, e l’accidente solo in quanto sia considerato tutt'uno con la sostanza (non per sè soltanto: considerato per sè, esso è come ciò ch’è casuale, e  A. infatti, unisce qui i due sigpificati come già in V. 30, 1-3). Ricorda Eth. Nic,,  II. 1: suonando si diventa suonatori, esercitandosi nel leggere e scrivere si diventa  «grammatici ».    Cfr. V. 5.    Quel che manca al per lo più per esser sempre a un modo è quel SuAetppa,  come dice Alessandro (451, 13), ch'è il casuale. Ovvero si dica che il fortuito  sparisce a misura che si scoprono tracce di ragione nelle cose, onde all'uguaglianza (logica, in astratto) di tutti i casi possibili si sostituisce, nel mondo  dell’esperienza, la probabilità, maggiore o minore, del per lo più. ciamo sì che questo può accadere, ma non lo diciamo già  se fa un caldo soffocante: chè, questo, avviene sempre o per  lo più, quello no. E che un uomo sia bianco può ben accadere  (chè tale non è sempre, nè per lo più), ma non intendiamo  che sia animale per accidente. E può anche accadere che  un architetto guarisca qualcuno, per accidente: chè questo  non è affare di architetto, ma di medico; eppure una volta  accadde che l’architetto fosse medico. Così, un cuoco, sebbene  il fine dell’arte sua sia il piacere, potrebbe scoprire qualcosa  che giovasse alla salute, ma non in virtù della culinaria. Noi  diciamo allora: accadde; per indicare che, in quanto ci fu  chi la fece, la cosa è possibile, ma non che dipendesse  assolutamente da lui ('). Di tutte le altre cose si riesce a  trovare, di quando in quando, la potenza di produrle, ma  dell’accidente non c’è arte o potenza determinata, perchè  di ciò che è o avviene accidentalmente, anche la causa è accidentale. Poichè, dunque,non tutte le cose sono o divengono  di necessità e sempre allo stesso modo, ma la maggior parte  avviene per lo più, ecco la necessità dell’accidente: ad es.,  nè sempre, nè per lo più, chi è bianco è anche musico, ma,  siccome talora accade, sarà per accidente. Se l’accidente  non ci fosse (?), tutto al mondo avverrebbe necessariamente.   Sarà dunque causa dell’accidente la materia, la quale è  quella che può essere altrimenti da come è per lo più .   E di qua bisogna cominciare:  non c’è forse qualcosa  che non è nè sempre, nè per lo più? Ovvero, ciò è impossibile? C'è, quindi, qualcosa oltre quel che è sempre o per lo  più, ed è ciò che capita purchessia e per accidente. Si potrebbe anche chiedere: forse, ciò che è per lo più esiste,  ma non l’eterno? Ovvero, esistono anche alcuni esseri eterni?  Di ciò si vedrà in sèguito; ma sin d’ora è chiaro che del   In quanto cuoco.    Se l'accidente non ci fosse, il «per lo più» diventerebbe un «sempre»,  e tutto sarebbe necessario. Ma, poichè ciò non è, ecco la necessità (di ammettere  l’esistenza) dell'accidente: come vuol provare, contro chi lo neghi, con l’interrogazione al $ 10.    La materia è principio e causa di tutto ciò ch’è indeterminato.    1027 a    198 METAFISICA    l’accidente non c’è scienza (‘'). Ogni scienza è o di ciò che  è sempre, o di ciò che è per lo più (°). Se no, come si potrebbe impararla o insegnarla? Bisogna bene, per definire  qualcosa, poter dire ciò che è o sempre o per lo più: poniamo, che l’ idromele giova, per lo più, a chi è febbricitante.  Ciò che è contro questa regola, neppure si avrà bisogno di  dirlo: se una volta  poniamo, al tempo della luna nuova   quel medicamento non ha giovato: poichè, per dirla (*), anche quella eccezione dovrebbe valere o sempre o per lo più.  L’accidente, invece, è contro tutte le regole.   S'è detto, dunque, che cosa è l’accidente, e per qual  causa, e che di esso non può esserci scienza.    » CapiToLO III.    Che ci siano fatti, di cui i principii e le cause appaiono  e scompaiono, sebbene non si possa dire che nascono e periscono (‘), è evidente. Se così non fosse, dovendo esserci una  causa non accidentale del nascere e del perire, tutto avverrebbe di necessità. Se si chiedesse, infatti: Avverrà o non     Il pensiero procede in questi paragrafi un po’ a sbalzi. Posto che non tutto è  sempre o per lo più, si dimostra cho c’è l'accidente (10). D'altronde, se si conceda che c’è l’accidente ce il per lo più, come negare l’esistenza di ciò ch'è  eterno, ch'è il vero oggetto della scienza?  Si vedrà in. séguito: efr. XII, 6-8.    Che ci sia scienza del per lo più, conferma anche in And/. Pr., I. 13. 32 D,  18, e in Anal, Post., I. 30. 87 b, 20; benchè la vera e propria scienza sia dell’universale e necessario (Anal, Post., I. 1. 71b, 15, e spesso altrove).  Idromele:  bevanda di miele e latte.    L'eccezione, dicendola, acquista la stessa regola di ciò ch'è sempre 0  per lo più. Così ho tentato di sciogliere la difficoltà del passo, che letteralmente  suona: « poichè o sempre o per lo più anche #/ [il dire? o il fatto che avviene?)  al tempo della luna nuova », Altra interpretazione: Se una volta non giovò, poco  conta: sta il fatto che in generale conta, anche al tempo della luna nuova (così  Bonitz, che sopprime il té). Il Ross dà un senso affine al mio: l’accidente anch'esso, veduto più profondamente, ha la sua legge (in fondo esso è un difetto  della nostra conoscenza, ma nella realtà, veramente, nulla è accidentale). Il Ross  unisce all'articolo l’idea del fatto, io quella del dire (questa mi par più semplice,  data la modestia dell'esempio).    Non si può dire che nascono o periscono, nel senso, veduto dianzi, di un  processo, di un passare graduale (dalla potenza all’atto, o dall’attività all’abito). avverrà un tal fatto?  si risponderebbe: Sì, se ne avviene un  altro; se no, no. E quest’altro, poi, avverrà, se altro ancora  avviene. E così è chiaro che, sottraendo sempre del tempo  da un tempo limitato, si arriverà al momento attuale. Ad  esempio, costui, se esce di casa, morrà di malattia, o di  morte violenta; ed uscirà di casa, se avrà sete; e avra sete,  se altro gli avviene; e così si arriverà a ciò che avviene attualmente, ovvero a qualcosa che è avvenuto in passato. Poniamo: egli uscirà, se avrà sete; e avrà sete, se mangia di  salato: questo, o avviene o non avviene; e costui, quindi,  morrà, o non morrà, necessariamente. Il discorso è lo stesso  se, con un salto nel passato, si comincia da un fatto avvenuto, perchè questo esiste già in un fatto presente. Per cui  tutte le cose future avverranno di necessità. Ad esempio:  chi vive, dovrà morire, perchè è già avvenuto questo, che    3 elementi contrari si trovano nello stesso corpo (').  Ma se     Bonghi (p. 367): «Il ragionamento di A. è molto semplice. Ogni processo  di atti, legati in qualità di causa ed effetto gli uni con gli altri, è necessario:  perciò, se non ci fossero atti tali che compariscono 0 scompariscono, senza che  la ragione del loro comparire e scomparire sia in un atto precedente, non ci  sarebbero ettetti casuali, o altrimenti, non ci sarebbero effetti se non necessari.  Adunque, perchè ci siano effetti casuali, bisogna che le cause che gli producono,  siano, operino, vengano meno senza processo «i sorta: non si generino però nè  si corrompano  cose le quali richiedono una serie di atti legati fra loro e indirizzati alla generazione o alla corruzione,  ma sorgavo e cessino in un attimo  ed indipendentemente dagli atti precedenti, successivi e contemporanei, tra’ quali  s’intramette l'opera loro. Tutti gli esempi che cita, servono a mostrare appunto    ‘ che, finchè si sta in un processo, un atto ha ragione nell'altro, e non s'esce dal    giro del necessario. Bisogna spezzarlo, per avere un principio d’un atto non necessario: ora, questo è appunto il principio del casuale. Il primo esempio è d’un  fatto avvenire rispetto al presente: col quale dimostra che, se dal fatto avvenire  si potesse di mano in mano e via via passare agli atti che lo precedono fino 4  un atto o fatto attuale, quel fatto avvenire non sarà nò men certo nè men necessario dell’attuale. Col secondo esempio applica il primo al passato, mostrando  che, come s'è ammesso che dall’avvenire si arriva al presente, così da questo  si risalirebbe al passato con altrettanta certezza e necessità: di maniera che in  un primo fatto già stato ci sarebbe il principio d'un’intera catena necessaria di  fatti avvenire. Ora, come per esperienza si vede che questo non è vero, codesta  catena non esiste: e la è interrotta di tratto in tratto da atti, i quali determinano quello che ci ha «li ancora indeterminato in un fatto, e fanno che se ne  origini piuttosto una tale che una tal’altra serie di fatti successivi».   Questo è, infatti, il senso più giusto di questo e del paragrafo seguente.   Elementi contrari: caldo-freddo, secco-umido.    1027 b    200 METAFISICA    egli morrà di malattia o di morte violenta, questo ancora  non è prestabilito, finchè non avvenga quel fatto determinato ('). È dunque chiaro che qui si va sino a un certo  principio, e da questo non si può rimontare ad altro. Ora,  questo appunto sarà il principio che spiega come un fatto  avvenne in un modo piuttosto che in un altro, e della causa  del suo accadere non c’è altra causa. Quel che più importante resterebbe a indagare è di quale specie sia la causa iniziale, a cui l’analisi del contingente ci ha ricondotto: se,  cioè, essa sia del tipo della causa materiale, o di quella finale,  o di quella efficiente (?).     Finchò non avvenga quel fatto determinato, ch'è un cominciamento assoluto, non riducibile a una serie di atti precedenti.    La materia, ha detto dianzi, è causa dell'accidente. Qui sì aggiunge che  la causa dell’accidente può esser considerata anche come attività motrice (causa  efficiente), e però in qualche modo anche finale (non formale: la forma è principio di determinazione). Non decide altro (Alessandro e Asclepio notano giustamente che la decisione dovrebb'essere in favore della causa efficiente).   Da vedere F. ‘Tocco, Il concetto del caso în A. (in Giorn. napoletano di filos.  e lett., 1877, vol. V). Pare al T. che la materia non basti a spiegare l’accidente.  © in vero, nelle rivoluzioni celesti, ad es., l’accidente non ha luogo. Intesa come  principio assolutamente indeterminato, la forma dovrebbe dominarla. Ma A. passa,  în questo concetto, dal punto di vista meramente logico a quello empirico, in cui  la materia è soltanto relativamente indeterminata, anzi essa è causa del determinarsi della forma: per es., ne’ vari generi del reale. Di qui la dottrina degli  attributi propri di ogni genere diyose, essenziali se riguardano la sostanza nella  sua formalità, veramente accidentali se la riguardano per la materia.   A. tratta, poi, l’accidente anche come il caso (cfr. nota a 2, 6). Dontle, per lui,  il caso? In lui predomina il concetto della causalità di tipo logico. Cfr. L. Ropin,  Sur la conception aristotélicienne de la causalité (in Archiv f. Gesch. d. Philos.,  XXIII, 1910, pp. 1 8gg.). Meglio: come un determinismo logico-teleologico (platonicumente): èv yào ti) GAy tò dvayzatov, vò d’od Evexa tv tO X6y0 (Phys., II  9, in princ.; e v, per l'argomento i capitoli molto importanti 4-6 di questo libro),  Qui, tò avayxatov è il contrario di quel determinismo. Il Greco tende alla perfetta razionalità della natura, ma è costretto a riconoscere un fondo irrazionale  dappertutto in essa, analogo al fato per lo vicende umane. Anche in queste ha  luogo il caso, e si chiama fortuna (von): « La fortuna è la causa per accidente  di fatti suscettibili d'esser fini, quando questi riguardano la volontà » (Phys., II.  5. 197 a 5). Prescindendo dall’u)ltima clansola, la definizione vale per ogni avvenimento accidentale: casuale è un fatto che può rientrare nel determinismo  logico-teleologico, ma non vien prodotto secondo questo. Cfr. VII. 7, 5; XI. 8, 8-9,   D'altra parte, il suo empirismo lo porta a un concetto della causalità di tipo  materiale-efficiente, che esige la contingenza dei fatti, l'accadere come originalità del particolare. Perciò, dopo aver detto che l’accidente è poco più di un Si lasci ora da parte l’essere per accidente: ne abbiamo  discorso abbastanza. Quanto all’essere nel senso del vero e  al non-essere nel senso del falso, essi riguardano la connessione e la divisione delle nozioni, e l'unione di entrambi consiste nel rapporto delle parti della contradizione ('). Vero è  l’affermare ciò che è realmente unito, e negare ciò ch’ è realmente diviso; falso, invece, è affermare o negare la parte  contradittoria. Come poi avvenga che s’intenda unito o diviso, è un’altra questione: voglio dire, come avvenga che  nell’ intendere le nozioni non si seguono, unite o separate,  come in serie, ma formano un’unità. Vero e falso, infatti,  non esistono nelle cose (come se il bene fosse vero, il male  fosse senz’altro falso), ma nel pensiero: anzi, neppure in  questo, per quel che riguarda le unità semplici e le essenze (?).    nome, quasi un non-essere, si aftretta a difendere la necessità di ammetterlo.  (Non è nel carattere di questa filosofia addebitare il caso alla nostra ignoranza).  La natura, infatti, ha per A. una sua spontaneità (tò adtéparov), analoga all'6petwy  nelle azioni umanc. Di qui il cominciamento assoluto di certe serie di avvenimenti. Credo meglio rifarsi di qui, che dall’interferire di processi causali diversi,  como fa il Bonghi nel passo cit. (v. anche a p. 371). Come, infatti, A. accenna  anche al principio del 'cap. 3, ci sono in natura cause che appaiono e scompaiono senza processo, (Ricorda che neanche dei punti, piani, ecc., nò degli istanti  nel tempo, c'è generazione: III 5, 10-11; nè delle sensazioni, secondo il De sensu,  446 b, 4; o che ancbe le anime degli animali possono esistere o non esistere senza  processo di nascita-corruzione, come si dice in Phys., VIII. 6. 258 Db, 17; ma così  anche per l’esistenza delle forme o pure essenze in generale: v. VII. 8, 3 nota;  VIII. 5, 1).    Cfr. IV. 7, 1-2 e 4. Vero e falso riguardano entrambi l’essere e il nonessere; ma qui l’essere e il non-essere si prendono nel senso del vero e del falso  (dell'esser-vero e del non-esser-vero). A lor volta, vero e falso son presi come  affermazione e negazione nell’unità del giudizio disgiuntivo che pone la contraddizione, sì che, se una parte di essa è vera, l’altra è falsa, e viceversa (non si  di mezzo).    De interpr., 1. 16a. 12: « Nella composizione e nella divisione consiste il  falso e il vero. Invece, i nomi per se stessi e i verbi valgono la nozione senza  composizione e divisione: come dicendo l’uomo o il bianco, quando non vi si aggiunga altro: chè non è vero o falso in nessun modo. E prova ne è questo: che Tutto ciò, dunque, che intorno all'essere e al non-essere, 4  intesi come vero e falso, si può considerare, sarà da vedere  più innanzi ('). Poichè, consistendo la connessione o la divisione nel pensiero e non nelle cose, v’ha differenza tra  l'essere così pensato e l’essere fondamentale delle cose (?).  (Il pensiero infatti annoda o divide l’essenza, la qualità, la  quantità, o altro modo dell’essere). Mettiamo, dunque, da  parte l’essere nel senso di accidente e l’essere nel senso del  vero: la causa di quello è indeterminabile, e la causa di que 1028 a Sto è nella costituzione peculiare del pensiero, ed entrambi  riguardano l’essere nell’altro senso da quello che più importa,    i    anche l'ircocervo significa pur qualcosa, ma non punto nò vera nò falsa, se non  vi sì uggiunge che esiste o non esiste, o semplicemente o in un tempo ».   Le nozioni (vofpata), 0 concetti considerati soltanto nel pensiero, riguardano  una o l’altra catezoria dell'essere. Nel giudizio, il soggetto è il nome (il sostantivo), l'attributo affermato o negato è il predicato (il verbo). Anche l’esistenza  è una nozione che fa da prodicato (esiste). Ma, poi, A. considera l'è ancho come  copula semplicemente, che sta a indicare soltanto la composizione delle nozioni  fatta dal pensiero: «l'essere, per sè, non è niente: significa una qualche sintesi,  la quale non si può intendere souza i componenti» (De interpr., 3. 16 Db, 24). La  composizione (ouvdeois, 0 cvuurdioxi, connessione) può, infatti, aver luogo senza  che il discorso affermi o neghi, propriamente: « Tutti i discorsi sono significativi,  ma assertivi non tutti, sì quelli in cui ha luogo l’esser nel vero o nel falso. Non  in tutti ha luogo: la preghiera, ad es., è un discorso sì, ma non dice nè vero uè  falso. La loro considerazione è più propria della retorica e della poetica» (De iaterpr.,4.17 a, 1). L'asserzione (&népavors) si distingue, poi, in xetdpaas e àrdpaars,  affermazione e negazione. Essa riguarda l’attività del pansiero discorsivo (dfvora),  che può esser vero o falso; laddove l’atto del vovg (l’intendere, il voeîv pr. d.)  coglie (intuisce) sempre la verità, la pura essenza delle cose, la quale è anche  l'unità del loro essere, che il pensiero (discorsivo) distinguo e separa nelle varie  forine categoriche: « L’intelleziono degl’indivisibili è di cose riguardo alle quali  non c'è errore, Dove, invece, ha luogo il vero e il falso, c'è già una certa conposizione di nozioni. La falsità, infatti, nasca sempre nella composizione. Ma ciò  che fa l’unità di ciascuna cosa è l’intelletto » (De An., III. 6. 430 a, 26). E l'atto  del percepire è come quello dell’intendere: «Come il vedere è vero rispetto al  suo oggetto proprio (mentre il vedere se il bianco sia un uomo, o meno, non è  sempre vero), così pure accade per le cose senza materia [come le pure essenze)»  (ivi, 430 b, 28). Cfr. quanto citammo per l'atto del percepire a IV. 5, 19 68.    Cfr. IX. 10, dove la questione è ripresa più ampiamente.    [td] 6v tOv xvolog: l'essere in quanto essere, in sè e per sè, ch'è l’oggetto proprio della inetafisica. L’esser-vero e l’esser-falso riguarda, invece, la  logica (a questa, quindi, nou appartiene, propriamente, l’atto del voùsg, l’intellezione «dei principii, della pura essenza e dell’esistenza: cfr. dianzi 1, 2; 6 però  neanche «dei principii logici, come si disse in IV. 3). Cfr. su la questione della  verità nelle cose e nel pensiero quanto osservammo in nota. e però non mettono in chiaro quale sia la natura sua propria (‘). E però si lascino da parte.   Vogliamo ora considerare le cause e i principii dell’ essere  stesso in quanto essere. Ma già, quando trattammo di quanti  significati può avere ogni cosa che si dice, si notò che l’essere ha molti sensi (?).    =     Mi permetto di tradur così questo passo: Gupétega megl tò Aounòv yévos  TOoÙ Bvtos, xal oùx Em Bniovarv oloav (va [invece di otokv tiva) puo où bvtos.  Gli altri intendono: «Entrambi riguardano (o presuppongono, si fondano gu]  l’altro genere dell'essere [detto in proprio senso, i. e. secondo le categorie), e  non mettono in mostra nessuna natura che sia fuori dell'essere [propriamente  detto] ». MFxori: accanto, come un altro genere dell'essere, coordinato a quello  della sostanza. Manterrei all’ &&® il significato di «oggettivamente» voluto dal  Ross, ma come epesegetico qui,    L’accenno è al lib. V (cap. 7). Le ultime parole paiono aggiunte per collegare questo libro al seguente.    1    Lo Dell’essere, come accennammo dianzi (!) dove distinguemmo i vari significati di questo e di altri termini, si  parla in molti sensi: da una parte, significa l’essenza e un  «che determinato »; dall’altra, quale è, o quanto, e ciascuna  delle altre cose che così si predicano. Ma, sebbene se ne  parli in tanti modi, è chiaro che l’essere principale è l’essenza, come quella che significa la sostanza. Quando, infatti,     Lib. V. 7. Per la terminologia che segue, si ricordi che traduco generalmente il x gotiv con essenza, e così anche tòd-elvar col dativo interno (alcuni traducono con concetto: ch'è anche giusto; ma preferisco mantenere il tono oggettivo: rendo, invece, con concetto il A6yos, quando questo non esiga altro termine  più opportuno, come discorso, ragionamento, ecc.). E con pura essenza rendo il  ti fiv elvar (cfr. nota a I. 3,2). La distinzione dei due concetti non è sempre  facile: ma, per principio, la pura essenza indica, come vuole la frase aristotelica, un punto di vista del tutto universale, e puro, noi diremmo, da ogni riferimento empirico (sebbene, per A., esso esista, poi, soltanto in quanto è un téde  t., un «che determinato »). E per rispetto alla tradizione, ma anche per lasciar  al testo la sua precisa formulazione, seguitiamo a tradurre l’otola con sostanza:  realtà è termine troppo moderno e accenna a quella contrapposizione a «pensiero» che in A, c’è e non c’è; essenza, come altri traduce, è pur giusta, in  quanto l'oùcia è l'essenza reale, concreta, la forma realizzata nella materia (nel  sinolo): ma, appunto per dar rilievo a questa concretezza, preferiamo tener distinti i due termini.  Intanto non sfugga che, avendo A. determinato come  oggetto della metafisica l'essere în quanto essere (VI. 1, 1), la realtà in quanto  tale, il problema dell’odota veniva a porsi come fondamentale: chòù in essa si  accentrano tutti i principii d’intelligibilità del reale. Ed A. comincia col distinguere in essa ciò ch'è essenziale per la sua comprensione da ciò ch'è accidentale, mutevole e transitorio, ovvero è una determinazione meramente negativa.    206 METAFISICA    parliamo della qualità di una certa cosa, diciamo, ad esempio,  non ch’è di tre cubiti o un uomo, ma ch’è buona o cattiva;  quando, invece, parliamo dell’essenza, non diciamo ch'è  bianca o calda o di tre cubiti, ma che è uomo o dio.   Tutti gli altri esseri si dice che sono, solo in quanto, di  ciò ch’è in quel senso, alcuni sono quantità, altri qualità,  altri affezioni, altri qualche altra cosa simile. Poniamo che  uno faccia questione se il camminare, l’esser sano, lo star  seduto, e similmente qualunque altra cosa di tal fatta, sia  ciascuno un essere o un non-essere. Nessuno di essi esiste  per natura da solo, nè può esser separato dalla sostanza.  Se, dunque, quelli diciamo che sono, a maggior ragione sarà  un essere ciò che cammina, ciò che sta seduto, ciò ch’è sano.  Questi, infatti, ci si mostrano tanto più reali perchè c’è un  essere determinato che fa loro da sostrato: questo è la sostanza, e l’individuo, il quale per l’appunto si presenta in  tale categoria. Se così non fosse, nessuno direbbe: è buono,  è seduto. Ora è chiaro che soltanto in grazia di questa categoria (') esiste ciascuno degli altri esseri. Così che l’essere  primo, non questo o quel modo di essere, ma ciò che è semplicemente, sarà la sostanza.   Si dice in molti sensi che una cosa è prima, ma la sostanza è prima in tutti i sensi: pel concetto, per la conoscenza,  per il tempo (*). Nessuna categoria, infatti, tranne la sola  sostanza, ha senso separatamente dalle altre. Ed essa è prima  quanto al concetto, perchè non c’è concetto di cosa alcuna,  che non comprenda in sè necessariamente il concetto di     tavenv: si potrebbe riferire alla «sostanza» che vien prima di «categoria»; ma che A. consideri qui }a oùdia come categoria è chiaro anche da quel  che segue. È vero che più spesso A. parla di categorie in riferimento ai predicati della sostanza (la quale, perciò, ne è il soggetto). Ma in opposizione alla  cosa nella sua materialità anche la «sostanza» è categoria, come si dirà tra  poco (3, 7), ce il suo concetto coincide con quello di « essenza ».    Facendo corrispondere questa distinzione a quella di pura essenza, essenza, sostanza concreta, si può accogliere l'opinione di Alessandro (461, 1) che le  parole seguenti (Nessuna categoria... altre) riguardino la priorità nel tempo (la  sostanza non è mai senza attributi, ma esiste e e’ intende prima, indipendentemente da quelli che ha oggi o domani). sostanza. E quanto alla conoscenza, noi allora reputiamo di  sapere benissimo ciascuna cosa, quando conosciamo quel che  è: ad es., quel che è l’uomo, o il fuoco; molto meglio, per    lo meno, di quando sappiamo soltanto o quale è o quanta 0    dove: anzi, ognuna di queste stesse determinazioni noi la veniamo a sapere allorquando impariamo a conoscere che cosa  è che ha quella qualità o quantità (').   In fine, quel che si è cercato fino ad ora, e che ora e  sempre si cerca, e di cui si fa questione sempre, cioè che  cos’è l’essere, vale appunto questo: che cos’è la sostanza?  Qui, alcuni rispondono ch’essa è unica, altri che ce n’è più  d’una: ‘e di questi, alcuni vogliono che le sostanze siano in  numero finito, altri in numero intinito (?). Poniamoci dunque  anche noi a questo problema, ch’è il più importante, il primo,  l’unico si può dire: vediamo quel ch’è l’essere così inteso.    CapiroLo II    Pare (*) che il modo più evidente di esistere della sostanza sia quello dei corpi. E però si suol dire che sostanze  sono gli animali e le piante, e le loro parti; nonchè i corpi  fisici, quali il fuoco, l’acqua, la terra, e gli altri corpi di tal  fatta; e quelli che o sono parti di essi, ovvero da essi (presi  complessivamente o parzialmente) risultano, come l’universo  e le sue parti, gli astri, la luna, il sole.     Lett.: «che cos'è il quanto o il quale »; ossia, anche per queste determinazioni, la conoscenza è data dall'essenza. Ma per chiarezza ho preferito tradurre tò mooév e tò motév come equivalente a mooév e smorsv: così auche Aless.  (461, 23) li intende due linee prima (dove il testo ha le stesse forme, con l’articolo).  La differenza è, al solito, nello scambio de’ diue concetti, affini per A., di 80stanza ed essenza.    Nella questione della sostanza una o molteplice A. trova impegnate tutte  le scuole precedenti, da quella ionica all’eleate (una), dai Pitagorici ed Empedocle (molteplice finita) ad Anassagora ed atomisti (molteplice infinita).    Volgarmente. Qui si fa questione, dunque, non soltanto del numero, ma  anche della natura della sostanza, o delle sostanze. Da quella prima intuizione  volgare prende lc mosse la scuola ionica. Ma bisogna esaminare se queste sono le sole sostanze che  ci siano, 0 se ce ne sono anche altre (o sian tali soltanto  alcune di queste, o alcune, anche, delle altre) ('), ovvero se  di esse nessuna è sostanza, ma sostanze siano certe altre  d’altra natura. Ad alcuni (?), per es., pare che sostanze siano  i limiti determinanti ogni cosa corporea, come superficie,  linea, punto, unità: a maggior titolo, per lo meno, di ciò  ch'è corporeo e solido. Inoltre, c’è chi reputa che di sostanze  non ce ne sia nessuna fuori delle cose sensibili; e altri, invece, che ce ne siano parecchie , e a maggior titolo, come  quelle che sono eterne. Platone, ad es., fa delle specie e degli  enti matematici due sostanze, e pone come terza la sostanza  dei corpi sensibili. Speusippo, pur cominciando dall’unità,  pone un numero maggiore di sostanze, perchè ad ognuna di  esseassegna principii diversi: uno per i numeri, ad es., e  uno per le grandezze; inoltre, un principio per la sostanza  dell'anima: ed è così che viene ad aumentarne il numero.  Alcuni, a lor volta, dicono che le specie e i numeri hanno  la stessa natura, e che da essi dipendono le altre cose: linee  e superfici, sino alla sostanza del cielo e alle cose sensibili (*).     Con l'h prima del xaî (E e Ascl.) alla 1. 15, i casi son, dunque, questi: a) le  sostanze son quelle dette; d) quelle e altre; c) alcune di quelle: d) alcune di  quelle e anche alcune delle altre; e) altre.    I Pitagorici. Cfr. III. 5, 4. Seguono i Fisiologi in generale, poi Platone  e i Platonici.    Di genere. Altri intendono aàgiw per il numero: cfr. I. 9, 1; e XIII. 4, 4.    Per Platone, non si dimentichi ch’ egli, pur avvicinando le idee alla natura del numero, non le identificò mai con i numeri nel senso dei Pitagorici  (senza distinzione di sensibile e intelligibile), nè le trattò meramente come i matematici trattano i loro oggetti.  Dei Platonici si parla lungamente nei libri  XIII-XIV, ma non si fauno i nomi: sì che l'attribuzione delle particolari dottrine è mal sicura. Sembra che Speusippo tendesse con ulteriori distinzioni a disperdere l'unità iniziale e il rapporto sistematico dei principii (per il primo rispetto. cfr. XII. 7, 11, e XIV. 4.3 e 5, 1: per l'altro, la fine dello stesso XII: « costoro della sostanza dell'universo fanno un complesso di episodi e riescono a una  molteplicità di principii»). Secondo il Frank (cit. nel Ross), egli avrebbe distinto  dieci principii: l’unità assoluta , l'assoluta pluralità , il numero , la grandezza spaziale , i corpi sensibili (5), l'anima (6), la ragione (7), il desiderio (8), il  movimento (9), il bene (10). Speusippo è ricordato anche in Etk. .Vic., 4. 1096 b, 5.   Altri accentuarono, sembra, la tendenza opposta, dell’unificazione dei principii, non  soltanto contro Speusippo, ma più in là dello stesso Platone. Asclepio (379, 17) fa    IL    (bai    6    ni  Dobbiamo, dunque, trattenerci su queste opinioni per vedere se sono giuste, o no, e quali sostanze esistono: se ce  ne siano, o no, altre (') fuori di quelle sensibili; e, se ce ne  sono, come sono; e se esiste qualche sostanza separata, perchè  e come esiste, ovvero, se fuori di quelle sensibili non ce ne  sia nessuna. Ma, prima, diciamo in abbozzo della sostanza  quel che è. La sostanza vien intesa, se non in più, per lo meno in  quattro modi principali, che paiono costituire l’essere di ogni  cosa: come pura essenza, come universale, come genere, e  in fine come sostrato (?).    qui il nome di Senocrate, successore di Speusippo; e Teofrasto (fr. XII, 12) dice che  egli «abbraccia in certo modo tutte le cose dell'universo: così le sensibili come  le intelligibili, e quelle matematiche, e persino le divine ». Ad A. questa identificazione sembra la soluzione peggiore del problema lasciato in eredità dal  maestro: XIII. 8, 10.    Altre ce ne sono, per A., ma non separate in quanto forme delle sostanze  sensibili stesse.    L'universale, anzi, meglio, gli univ  ersali, astrattamente considerati, sono le  idee platoniche, le quali A. nega che siano sostanza (capp. 13-14): non così, naturalmente, quando l'universalità è carattere o valore dell’essenza. Del genere  non si parla più, e al principio del cap. 13 è del tutto dimenticato. In quanto  è un xotvév, esso equivale al xaté6Xiov, quando questo sia inteso come una generalità, e il genere, a sua volta, sia preso fuori del processo che lo realizza nelle   differenze. Così i quattro termini si riducono a tre, anzi, per la trattazione negativa dell’universale, a due: la pura essenza e il sostrato. Del sostrato si parla    .nel capitolo presente, e si dice ch'esso è materia (CAm), forma (puoogf, qui, poco    dopo esemplificato con tò oxMpua 175 ldéas, e però con significato più vicino alla  forma sensibile; ma equivalente, in fine, a eldoc, a Adyos fivev GAng, a ff xatà  tòv A6yov odola, e però anche a tò 1 Kv elvari, sinolo (tò 84 tobtov 0 BE èippolv,  tò ocvverinupévov, tò otvterov 25 elbous xal GAns). Molto frequenta è Uroxzipevov  nel primo e terzo significato, raro nel secondo (cfr. VIII. 1, 6) e da intendere  come equivalente, qui, al terzo, ch'è il significato più comune dell'oùota. Questa  è, infatti, la sostanza concreta, piena realtà del x6de , (in Cat., 5 distinta  come prima dalla sostanza seconda, ch'è la forma o specie). Di contro a essa  sta la pura essenza nella sua universalità, che vuol essere il suo principio intelligibile e insieme reale. Per l’intelligibilità, è chiaro; la difficoltà sorge per  la realtà, essendo necessaria la materia per la sua realizzazione come individuo.  Di qui l’aporia del materialismo in questo capitolo, risolta da A., per ora, soltanto negativamente, risolvendo la materia nel concetto dell’indeterminato, ©  però inferiore al sinolo in realtà, e tanto più alla forma ch'è, per l’intelligibilità, il principio del sinolo stesso. Il sostrato è ciò di cui si predica ogni altra cosa, ma 2  1029 1 esso non è predicato più di alcun’altra. Noi dobbiamo, quindi,  cominciare la nostra trattazione da esso, perchè la sostanza  par che sia, in primo luogo, il primo sostrato di ogni cosa.  E però per un lato esso è la materia, per un altro è la forma, 3  per ultimo il loro insieme. La materia è, per es., il bronzo;  la forma, la figura ideata; il loro insieme, l’intero, la statua.  Per conseguenza, se la forma è prima della materia e reale 4  a maggior titolo, anche l’insieme d’entrambe (') sarà prima  della materia per la stessa ragione.   Noi abbiamo dato, ora, un’idea di quel ch’è la sostanza, 5  dicendo ch’essa è ciò che non viene riferito ad altro come  a sostrato, anzi ad essa vien riferito tutto. Ma non bisogna  fermarsi qui: chè non basta. Non soltanto, questo, manca  ancora di chiarezza; ma la sostanza diventa, in questo modo,  la materia. Se, infatti, non è essa la sostanza di ogni cosa,  non è facile dire che altro questa sia: togliendo tutte le determinazioni (*), pare che non rimanga altro. Quelle determinazioni sono soltanto affezioni dei corpi, produzioni e potenze loro; e neppure lunghezza, larghezza e profondità sono  altro che certe determinazioni quantitative, e non sostanze.  Sostanza non è la quantità, ma, piuttosto, ciò a cui originariamente le determinazioni quantitative appartengono. Se  non che, tolta la lunghezza, la larghezza, e la profondità,  non si vede che resti nulla, tranne che si ammetta ch’è pur  qualcosa ciò che da quelle vien determinato. Sì che, a chi  consideri le cose in questo modo, deve necessariamente apparire la materia come la sola sostanza.     Se si legge voò (invece di 16), allora va tradotto: «anche dell’insieme  d' entrambe sarà prima la forma per la stessa ragione ». Ho preferito il vé perchò  la questione, in questo punto, mi pare sia quella della materia (l’usia nella sua  realtà), piuttosto che quella della forma (l’usia nella sua intelligibilità), benchè  anche questa sia giusta: come si vede dal $ 10.    Ricorda il procedimento cartesiano: togliendo tutte le determinazioni  empiriche (prima le qualitative, poi le quantitative) si dovrebbe arrivare al concetto puro di materia. Qui, naturalmente, si tratta della materia, non del suo  concetto, e A. non può far valere contro il materialismo altro che il suo principio dell'esistenza determinata. Chiamo materia quella che in sè non è una cosa determinata, nè una quantità, nè niun’altra delle determinazioni  dell'essere. Ci ha da essere, infatti, un qualcosa di cui ciascuna di esse si predica. E la sua guisa di essere sarà diversa da quella di ciascuna delle categorie: queste si predicano della sostanza; la sostanza, poi, della materia (').  Per cui il termine ultimo, per sè stante, in ogni cosa, non  è qualcosa di determinato, nè una quantità, nè altro; e neppure la negazione di queste determinazioni, poichè anche  la negazione non esprime dell'essere altro che l’accidente.  Così, quelli che ragionano da questo punto di vista, si trovano a conchiudere che sostanza è la materia. Eppure, ciò  è impossibile: perchè ognuno vede che sostanza convien che  sia, anzitutto, ciò che può esistere separatamente, ed è qualcosa di determinato. Parrebbe quindi che, a maggior diritto  della materia, debbano dirsi sostanza la specie, e quel che  dall’unione di materia e forma deriva.   Ma lasciamo da parte, per ora, quest’ultima, cioè la sostanza in quanto risulta di materia e forma insieme: che è  cosa posteriore e manifesta a tutti. Anche la materia, in  certo modo, non offre incertezze. Dobbiamo trattenerci su la  terza, su la specie (*°), perchè è essa che presenta le maggiori  difficoltà. Le altre categorie son determinazioni (secondarie o accidentali) della s0stanza, la sostanza esprime la determinazione (essenziale) della materia; invece,  a materia non si predica di nulla.  Tutto il passo mescola le ragioni dei materialisti con quelle di A., il quale non nega l'esistenza della materia, ma che  essa sia la sostanza. L’indeterminazione di essa non è mera negazione o privazione (l'una non ha realtà affatto; l'altra non per sè, ma in quanto è in altro:  e d’altra parte, se fosse privazione, la materia avrebbe già una determinazione,  o un'indeterminazione soltanto relativa al momento ulteriore del processo formale: cfr. VIII. 1, 6 e 6, 11; XL. 9, 2).   Come avvertimmo in nota a III 2,5 traduciamo eldog con specie quando non  è in opposizione diretta al termine materiale. Il Rolfes, seguendo S. Tom,, insiste molto (nel suo commento alla trad. cit.) nel distinguere in A. la forma in  quanto indissolubile dalla materia, a cui è unita, dalla forma sostanziale, che  può avere un'esistenza indipendente da essa. Negli Scolastici, infatti, è viva la  preoccupazione per le conseguenze dogmatiche. Questa preoccupazione manca  in A., assorto, qui, a polemizzare contro l'idealismo astratto del maestro, da una  parte, e contro il rozzo materialismo dall'altra. (Un’ esistenza in sè e per sè della E poichè tutti concordano in questo, che alcune di quelle 11  sensibili sono sostanze, noi dobbiamo cominciare la ricerca  1029 v in questo campo: chè è sempre utile passare per gradi a ciò  ch’è più conoscibile ('). La cultura, infatti, si acquista così: 12  attraverso le cose che sono meno conoscibili per natura si  procede verso quelle che sono per natura più conoscibili. E la  fatica è proprio in questo: come nel campo delle azioni si  deve far in modo che, partendo dal bene dell’ individuo,. il  bene generale (°) divenga il bene dell’individuo stesso; così,  qui, dalle cose che a ciascuno sono più facili a conoscere, si  deve andare a quelle che, conoscibili per natura, divengano  tali per lui stesso. Certo, quel che l'individuo conosce in principio è spesso proprio ciò che meno è conoscibile, e che ha  poco o nulla della realtà dell’essere. Pure, conviene prender  le mosse da quelle deboli conoscenze, le quali tuttavia costituiscono ciò ch’egli conosce; e sforzarsi, passando, come si  è detto, attraverso di esse, di fargli conoscere ciò ch’è conoscibile assolutamente.    pura forma è affermata, senz'altro, di Dio nel lib. XII; ma per l’individualità  di essa come anima umana è nota l'oscurità di A. e del pensiero greco in generale).   Qui si dice che la difficoltà maggiore non è intorno alla materia e al sinolo:  questo è chiaro che è prime, come si disse dianzi, della materia, e ha esistenza  per sè e individualità (è qualcosa di determinato); la difficoltà grande è intorno  al principio ideale-reale del sinolo. La specie ha esistenza e individualità in sè  e per sè? In termini moderni si direbbe che la questione passa dal punto di vista  empirico a quello trascendentale. Ma il senso di questo passaggio è limitato in  A. dai termini già accennati del suo pensiero.    Il testo (le prime due linee di 1029b appaiono al principio del cap. s0g.)  è stato riordinato dal Bonitz. Lo Jaeger (Arîst., pp. 204 e :s8.) per primo ha  avanzata l'importante ipotesi che questi libri VII-IX siano stati scritti dopo il  XII; e che perciò questo passo, sino alla fine del capitolo, sia un'aggiunta poSteriore per collegare questa trattazione, intorno alla sostanza sensibile, a quella  puramente intelligibile. Ma cfr. note a 11, 11; 16, 7.    tà &40g dyodd: il bene in sè, ciò ch'è bene assolutamente (così, invece,  ho tradotto, in fine al capitolo, l'84ws), sarebbe espressione molto platonica: il  plurale dissuade. Così anche in Eth. Nic., V. 2. 1129D, 5. Quando noi da principio distinguemmo in quanti modi Si  definisce la sostanza, vedemmo che uno di essi era quello  della pura essenza: di esso vogliamo ora trattare. E comiuciamo a dirne qualcosa dal punto di vista discorsivo: la pura  essenza è ciò che di una cosa si dice in se stessa considerata. Mi spiego: l’esser musico non è l’esser tuo, perchè  non per te stesso sei tu musico: quel che sei per te stesso,  dunque, quella è la tua essenza. Ma con questo non 8°è  detto tutto. Anche una superficie noi diciamo che per se  stessa considerata (') ha un colore, poniamo, bianco: ma non  così è l’in sè della pura essenza: poichè l’essere della superficie non è l’essere del color bianco. E neppur l’ essere suo  vien fuori dall'unione dei due termini, dicendo ch’è una  superficie bianca. Perchè? perchè c’ è già compreso. Bisogna,  perchè si abbia la definizione della pura essenza di una cosa,  che, chi la definisce, non ne includa la nozione nella defi-{  nizione. Ne verrebbe questo: che, se all’essenza della superficie appartenesse d’esser bianca, ed essa è la stessa ch’è  levigata, l’esser bianco e l’esser levigato sarebbero una sola  e medesima cosa (?).     Distinguendo l’«in se stesso» dal «per se stesso», dove il greco usa la  medesima espressione (xad’ aùrté: v. V. 18, 4-6, in cui pure si accenna a questa  distinzione), si dà un po' più di luce all’argomentazione. Non tutto ciò che una  cosa è per sè, ne costituisce per questo l’essenza. Noi sappiamo, infatti, che ci  sono accidenti essenziali, per es. l'uguaglianza degli angoli di nn triangolo a due  retti; ma l'essenza del triangolo, poi, è data puramente dalla sua definizione.  La cosa in sò è il presupposto d'ogni predicazione o qualificazione (la superficie  è bianca  superficie bianca).    Passo oscuro: ho seguito l’interpretazione di 8. Tom. (1314), perchè mi  eembra più intonata alla presente argomentazione (sebbene riconosca che il testo»  vien così un po’ forzato): A. direbbe che, se bianchezza e levigatezza, e così gli  altri attributi, siano pure essenziali, costituissero la pura essenza della superficie,  essi dovrebbero tutti identificarsi tra loro. Il passo va forse, come nota il Christ,  due rigbe prima (dopo «già compreso »).  Altri (e già Aless.) intendono: « Per  cui, Be poi si aggiungesse che l’esser proprio della superficie bianca consiste  nell’esser essa levigata, non si verrebbe ad altro che ad identificare l’essere del    214 METAFISICA    E poichè c’è pure una composizione (') della sostanza 6  con le altre categorie (un qualche sostrato ci vuole sempre  per ognuna: per la qualità, per la quantità, per il tempo, per  il luogo, per il movimento), è bene s’indaghi se per ognuno  di tali composti si possa far questione della pura essenza: cioè,  se anche di essi si dia una pura essenza: per es., dell’uomo  bianco, la pura essenza di uomo-bianco. A designare il com- 7  posto, diamogli un nome: per’ es., vestimento (°). In che consisterà, dunque, l’essenza del vestimento? Certamente, essa  non potrà esser nessuna di quelle cose che si dicono considerandole in se stesse (*).    bianco con l’essere del levigato»: si darebbe, cioè, l'essenza del bianco come  consistente nella levigatezza. Così, infatti, pare che la pensasse Democrito (De  Sensu, 4. 442 b, 11; De Gen. et Cor., I. 2. 316, 1).    La sostanza, in quanto sìnolo di materia e forma, è già un cuvdetov da so  stessa. La questione, ora, è: si può parlare di pura essenza quando il ovv@etov  è della sostanza con le altre categorie? La prima risposta è negativa: si può  parlare della pura essenza dell’« uomo », non dell’«uomo-bianco ». Ma, poi, si  concede (14 s8.) che in largo senso (logico-discorsivo) si può dire che c’è una  definizione, e però una pura essenza, anche di questi composti (quando se ne  spiega il significato).    Oggi diremmo: indichiamo con «x il composto. L'opportunità di ciò è  chiarita bene da S. Tom. (1317): «Et quia forte aliquis posset dicere quod albus  homo sunt duae res et non una, ideo subjungit quod hoc ipsum quod dico albus  homo, habeat unum nomen, quod causa exempli sit vestis. Tune enim, sicut hoc  nomen homo significat aliquid compositum, scilicet animal rationale, ita et vestis  significat aliquid compositum, scilicet hominem album ».    Intendo che la sintesi designata con «vestimeuto » non può esser scambiata con quella in cui consiste Ja sostanza, o pura essenza, in sò (nell'esempio,  l’uomo in quanto animale ragionevole, non in quanto uomo bianco). Segue (8)  l'obbiezione, la quale, badando più all'espressione discorsiva, porterebbe a conchiudere che definendo « vestimento » come «uomo-bianco » non si cade in nessuno dei due errori (ivi notati) peri quali una definizione si può dire mancante,  sì che in questo senso si deve ammettere che la cosa è considerata per se stessa  (benchè secondaria, qui, la distinzione tra l'in sé e il per sé, non si scordi che  nel testo c'è anche quest'ambiguità). All'obbiezione A. risponde (9), che, anche  ammessa buona la predetta definizione in quel senso (discorsivo), non per questo  si tratta di una pura essenza, propriamente, la quale dà sempre l’&ree di un téde  ti (Ja determinazione della natura costitutiva di un’individualità: di qui la s04  stituzione frequente, nel pensiero aristotelico, della «sostanza seconda », 0 specie, alla sostanza prima, o téde tr).   Altri intendono che l’obbiezione venga fatta qui (alla fine del $ 7), e che A.  risponda a essa nel 6 8. Il testo permette, sembra, tutte due le interpretazioni  (per il senso generale la differenza, in fine, è di poco conto). Si può obiettare che una cosa non è considerata per se  stessa in due casi: o per via di apposizione, o al contrario.  Nel primo caso, ciò che si vuol definire lo si aggiunge ad  altra cosa: per es., volendo definire che cos'è la bianchezza,  si dice che è un uomo bianco. Nell’altro caso, c'è un’altra  cosa aggiunta a ciò che si vuol definire: per es., se vestimento vuol dire uomo bianco, vestimento si definisce color    bianco. Certamente, chi è uomo bianco è un che di bianco, 1030 a    ma la bianchezza non è davvero la sua essenza.   Ma con questo si è detto che l’essere del vestimento sia la  determinazione di una pura essenza veramente? (') Non pare.  Solo ciò ch'è un «che determinato » è una pura essenza,  Quando, invece, una cosa si predica di un’altra (*), non abbiamo più un «che determinato »: l’uomo bianco, ad es., non  è la determinazione di un «alcunchè», una volta che tale  determinazione riguarda soltanto le sostanze. In conchiusione, la pura essenza ha luogo soltanto in quelle cose di cu}  il concetto è una definizione.   E definizione non c’è finchè si adoperano parole a signi!!  ficare una cosa invece del concetto: poichè, in tal caso, tutti  i discorsi sarebbero detinizioni, e si potrebbe adoperare una  parola sola invece di un qualsiasi discorso, sì che anche  l’Iliade sarebbe una definizione (*). Invece la definizione c’è  soltanto qualora sia di ciò ch’è primo: e questo ha luogo  soltanto dove non c’è bisogno, per ragionarne, di riferire  una cosa a un’altra.     Alla 1. 3: 8206; f) où.    « Uomo » e « bianco » son due concetti, che restan due anche se uniti nella  sintesi «uomo bianco »; « animale » e «ragionevole », invece, esplicano il concetto  unico di uomo (equivalente per A. al t6de tu).  Aless. (467, 7 88.) nota acutamente che il tne mira all'essenza nella sun unità, laddove la definizione esplica  le parti in cui quella è organizzata. Di qui la coincidenza e insieme la differenza  tra i concetti di essenza (che, in quanto sintesi empirica, o concreta, è sostanza;  © in quanto concetto può limitarsi a una designazione generica: altrimenti, equivale al tne), pura essenza, definizione. Ctr. TRENDELENBURG, Gesch. der Hategorienlehre, pp. 34 s8; BoxiTz, pp. 311 88.    I. e., della parola «Iliade ». Non si scordi che a concetto e discorso corrisponde lo stesso termine X6yos. Non potrà, quindi, la pura essenza trovarsi nelle specie  che non appartengano a un genere, anzi si troverà soltanto  in quelle che v’appartengono, perchè di quelle soltanto, evidentemente, si può parlare senza riferirle ad altro come partecipazione o affezione di esso, o come suo accidente (‘).  Delle altre, così come di ogni cosa, ben si può ragionare, o  con un semplice discorso o in modo più esatto, per dirne, poniamo, se ha un nome, che cosa questo significa, e che questo  conviene a quello. Ma non è questione, con ciò, della definizione e della pura essenza (°).   Ma forse anche per la definizione, come per l’essenza, è  bene osservare che si dice in molti modi. L’essenza, in un  primo modo, significa la sostanza e la determinazione di  qualcosa; e in altro modo, significa quale è, quanto è, e  ognuna delle altre cose che si predicano così. E in quella  guisa che l’«è» si trova in tutte le categorie, ma non ugualmente, perchè in una di esse ci sta in senso proprio, e nelle  altre per derivazione; così anche l’essenza, assolutamente,  appartiene alla sostanza, e al resto delle categorie soltanto  in certo modo. Noi potremmo, infatti, chiederci che cos’è  la qualità, facendo, così, anche della qualità un’essenza:  non tuttavia assolutamente, ma in quel modo come alcuni  del non-essere affermano, discorsivamente, che il non-essere  è: non assolutamente, ma in quanto è non-essere. Si dica  similmente della qualità.   Senza dubbio, è giusto che si badi anche come convien  parlare in ogni cosa, ma quel che più importa è come essa  è realmente. Oramai, dopo quel che s’è detto, dev’esser  chiaro che la pura essenza apparterrà primieramente e assolutamente alla sostanza; e poi anche alle altre categorie,     Genere-specie (yévovs elbn) dev’ essere un processo unitario di realizzazione  della pura essenza: la qual cosa non avviene se le specie son considerate platonpicamente come idee di cuî il genere dovrebbe partecipare (cfr. III 3, 7); ovvero, secondo la dialettica sofistica, si unisca la sostanza (ciò ch'è primo: tè  xQ6tov 6v) con una qualità o un accidente di essa.    Così il X6yos passa dal suo officio meramente semantico a quello apofantico (De interpr., 4. 17 a, 1), e da questo a quello più logico-metafisico. nello stesso modo dell’ essenza, non assolutamente, in quanto  è la pura essenza, ma in quanto è pura essenza della qualità, o della quantità, ecc. Poichè bisogna bene che uno ci  dica se in queste categorie l’essere ci sta soltanto per omonimia; ovvero se si tratta soltanto di aggiungere e togliere  (come quando si dice che anche l’ignoto fa parte del noto) (').  In verità, la risposta giusta è di negare sia la diversità, sia  l'identità del significato; e dire che la cosa sta come per  quel che diciamo « medicale », tiferendoci, sì, a qualcosa ch’ è    pur sempre una e medesima, ma non ha un unico e sempre 1030 b    lo stesso significato, senza che perciò si tratti di mera omonimia: diciamo «medicale» un corpo, un’operazione, uno  stramento, non per omonimia, nè per lo stesso rispetto, eppure ci riferiamo a una cosa stessa (*). (Qui non importa nulla  se uno preferisce un modo o l’altro di vedere). Quel ch'è evidente, è che la definizione e la pura essenza riguardano primieramente e assolutamente soltanto le sostanze, e che, s’ esse  valgono parimenti anche per le altre categorie, ciò non è  in vero e proprio senso. Posto questo, non è detto però che’  si abbia definizione di un oggetto tutte le volte che c’è un  discorso intorno a esso, ma soltanto se ci si esprime in certo  modo, cioè se si riguarda l'oggetto come uno: non per mera  continuità discorsiva (come sarebbe ]l’ Iliade) (*), o perchè si     Passo molto oscuro. Omonime son le cose che hanno lo stesso nome, ma  natura diversa (Callia, per es., e il suo ritratto); sinonime, quando la realtà o  il concetto è lo stesso (abito, per es., e vestito). Per A., qui, non si tratta nè di  mera omonimia, nò di sinonimia: poichè l'essere nella prima categoria e nelle  altre nè è identico, nè è del tutto diverso. Si tratta, invece, di aggiungere e togliere: i. e. (così parrebbe che voglia dire) qualificare con un « primieramente »  e un «secondariamente » l'essere nei due casi, si che di esso si dia un più e  un meno di realtà. Così anche il non-essere delle categorie secondarie diventa  un essere: come l'ignoto è, in quanto lo ei sa tale, anch’esso noto (questo sembra  dire ciò ch’è in parentesi).    V. per lo stesso concetto ed esempio, IV. 2, 1-2. Le parole che seguono  (messe da me in parentesi) paiono riferirsi alla distinzione tra il xaè° Ev e il rodc  Ev (Ross).    L'esempio (giù veduto dianzi) dell'Iliade, come di ciò ch'è soltanto ouvdeop® Ev, torna in VIII. 6, 2. Così in Anal. Post., II. 10. 93 b, 96: « Un discorso  può essere uno in due modi: o per collegamento, come l’Iliade; o perchè chiarisce un'unica cosa da un unico punto di vista, non per accidente », E così anche  in Poet., 20. 1457 a, 29.    218 METAFISICA    adoperano congiunzioni, ma in tutto il vero e proprio senso  del termine « unità ». Questa si dice come l’essere; e l’essere  significa un che determinato, o quanta, o quale è una cosa.  Per cui, anche, ben si può parlare e dare una definizione  di  assume altrettanti significati diversi: la soglia è tale perchè situata così, e l’esser  suo significa l’esser situata così; così come l’esser ghiaccio  vuol dire aver una certa densità. Ci sono cose di cui l’essere  potrà venir determinato anche con tutte queste differenze,  in quanto possono esser o mescolate, o combinate, o insieme  collegate, o condensate; ovvero esigono, per esser definite,  anche le altre differenze, come, ad es., una mano o un piede.  È bene, dunque, comprendere i generi delle differenze, una  volta che queste debbon essere i principii dell’esser delle  cose: queste, infatti, si distinguono per il più o per il meno,  per il denso e per il raro, e per altre qualità sì fatte: le  quali tutte, poi, sono o in eccesso o in difetto. Quando una  cosa differisce per figura, o per levigatezza o ruvidezza, tutte  queste differenze si riducono a quella del dritto e curvo.  E quando l’esser loro consiste nella mescolanza, il non essere  consisterà nella condizione opposta.   Risulta chiaro, dunque, che, se la sostanza è la causa  dell’essere di ciascuna cosa, bisognerà cercare in queste  differenze la cagione per cui ciascuna è quella che è. La  sostanza, a dir vero, non consiste in nessuna di queste differenze, neppure se accoppiate alla materia; tuttavia esse  costituiscono in ogni oggetto quel ch’è analogo alla sostanza ('). E come nelle sostanze quel che si predica della     Queste differenze riguardano la materia e l’accidentale più che la natura  intima delle cose, e però non ne dànno l’usia nel vero senso.  Ciò che tien le materia è l’atto stesso, così’ anche nelle definizioni delle  altre cose è ciò che meglio ne tien le veci. Per es., se si  debba definire la soglia, diremo ch’è legno o pietra situata in -certo modo: e la casa è mattoni e legni situati  così e così (se pure in certi casi non si accenna anche allo  scopo); e se si tratta del ghiaccio, diremo ch’è acqua solidificata o condensata in tal modo; e la melodia è una mescolanza così fatta di suoni acuti e gravi. E nello stesso  modo per gli altri casi.   Di qui si vede che l’atto è diverso e diverso il concetto,  quando la materia è diversa: chè in alcune cose ha luogo  composizione, in altre mescolanza, in altre qualche altra  delle differenze ricordate. Per cui, se uno, per definire quel  che sia una casa, dicesse che è pietre mattoni legname, direbbe quel che la casa è in potenza, perchè pietre mattoni  legname sono la materia; se invece dicesse ch’è uno spazio  chiuso per riparo delle cose e delle persone, o aggiungesse  altra cosa simigliante, direbbe quel ch’è l’atto della casa.  E se uno riunisse entrambe queste determinazioni, direbbe  la sostanza nel terzo significato, quella che risulta dall’atto  e dalla materia. Par chiaro, infatti, che il concetto che si  ottiene per mezzo delle differenze, è quello della forma e  dell’atto, quello invece degl’ingredienti della cosa riguarda  piuttosto la materia. Tali erano anche le definizioni che Archita (‘) approvava, poichè esse si riferivano al composto.  Per es.: che cos’è il tempo buono? La quiete in grande  estensione di aria: qui l’aria è materia, l’atto e la sostanza  è la quiete. Che cos'è la bonaccia? È l'uguaglianza della  superficie del mare: qui il sostrato, in quanto materia, è il  mare, e l’uguaglianza della superficie è l’atto e la forma.   Con le cose discorse resta così spiegato quel ch’è la    __&    veci dell'atto (della vera © propria forma), in queste cose considerate sensibilmente, sono le su dette differenze. Qui non si possono avere definizioni (delle  sostanze sensibili particolari non c'è dimostrazione, nò definizione: VII. 15, 2),  altro che in largo senso (VII. 4, 12-13).    Di Taranto, famoso pitagorico, coutemporaneo di Platone. (Alla 1. 18:  èvegysiav). sostanza sensibile e in qual modo sia: essa è tale come  materia, come forma e atto: in un terzo senso, come il loro  insieme.    CapiToLo III.    Ma si badi che talora non è chiaro se il nome della cosa  esprime la sostanza come composto, o l’atto e la forma sua:  per es., se casa significhi l'insieme, un riparo fatto di mattoni e pietre situate in un certo modo, ovvero semplicemente  un riparo, cioè l’atto e la forma della casa; e se linea significhi dualità in lunghezza, o semplicemente dualità ('); e  animale, anima in un corpo, o semplicemente anima. L'anima  è la sostanza e l’atto di un certo corpo, e chi dice animale  può riferirsi all’uno e all’altro significato, non perchè coincidano nel copcetto, ma in quanto entrambi riguardano la  stessa realtà. Ciò per qualche rispetto non è senza importanza, ma per la nostra questione su la sostanza sensibile  non ne ha alcuna, poichè la pura essenza consiste nella  forma e nell’atto. Anima, infatti, ed essenza dell'anima son  la stessa cosa, ma non così uomo ed essenza dell’uomo, salvo  che per anima non s’intenda l’uomo: chè, allora, in un senso,  l’uomo e la sua essenza coincidono; in un altro, no.   La sillaba non si mostra nell’esser suo se uno la cerca  nelle lettere e nella loro somma; e così la casa, se uno  guarda ai mattoni e alla loro somma. Ed è giusto che sia  così, perchè la somma o la mescolanza non deriva soltanto  dalle cose sommate o mescolate (°). Similmente, in tutti gli     Cfr. VII. 11, 5; e per l'identità (nel par. seg.) dell'anima e della sua essenza, VII. 10, 16, e 6, 14.  Ciò, si aggiunge, può avere qualche importanza,  Der es. per il fisico; non per noi (per il rispetto metafisico), ora: chò la forma è  il priocipio del sinolo ed equivalente a esso (in quanto, tuttavia, esso venga  considerato nell'unità attuale del téde n).    Cfr. VII. 17, $ s8s,: qui l’apriorità della: forma (ch’è, dunque, magà tà  Gtoyela, non in senso trascendente, ma affine al nostro trascendentale) viene  estesa alle forme sensibili. « Compositio et mixtio, quae sunt formalia principia,  non constituuntur ex his quae componuntur aut miscentur, sicut nec aliquod aliud  formale constituitur ex sua materia, sed e converso »: S. Tom: (1713).  altri casi. Ad es., se qualcosa è una soglia per la posizione,  non la posizione si spiega con la soglia, ma piuttosto questa  con quella. E l’uomo non è semplicemente l’essere vivente  più bipede, ma deve esserci qualcosa oltre di ciò, se ciò è  preso soltanto come materia: qualcosa che non è elemento  nè un derivato da un elemento, ma è sostanza, prescindendo  dalla quale non rimane se non la materia. Se, dunque, questo  «qualcosa » è la causa dell’esser suo e della sostanza, Si  dovrà indicare in esso la sostanza stessa (').   Ora, questa o è eterna, ovvero è corruttibile senza perciò  perire, e diviene senza che perciò si possa dir prodotta.  Noi abbiamo altrove mostrato e spiegato come la specie nessuno la produce o genera, ma quel che si fa è un qualcosa  di determinato, e quel che si genera è l’insieme. Se poi le  sostanze delle cose corruttibili siano separabili, non abbiamo  ancora chiarito, salvo che nei casi in cui è evidente ch’è impossibile, e son tutti quelli in cui non può esistere la sostanza  fuori dei particolari, ad es., una casa o una suppellettile (*).  Ma forse queste non sono da riguardare come sostanze, e  insieme a esse nessuna di quante altre cose non sono prodotte dalla natura: chè la natura, essa sola, si può chiamare  sostanza nelle cose corruttibili.   Perciò non è fuor di proposito la questione agitata dai  seguaci di Antistene e da altri rozzi come loro; i quali     Seguendo la volgata e l’interpretazione di Alessandro (553, 7) l'accento  polemico sarebbe, non contro il materialismo, ma contro l’idealismo astratto dei  Platonici, e si tradurrebbe così: «.,... ma è sostanza: quella sostanza, a cui si  riferiscono quanti prescindono dalla materia, Se, dunque, questo qualcosa è la  causa dell'essere, e questa è la sua sostanza, essi si riferiranno (col loro prescindere dalla materia) per l’appunto alla sostanza». Ma par evidente che non è  questo il senso del discorso qui. Meglio, piuttosto, mantenere, con la volgata,  anche l’oò dato da E (1. 14): « Se, dunque, questo qualcosa è la causa dell’esser  Suo, e questa è la sua sostanza, essi [prescindendo da essa) si troveranno a non  dire quel che è la sostanza stessa dell’uomo [la sua vera realtà)». Così anche  il Ross.    Cfr. VII. 8, e nota a 7,3. Per A., non ostante il suo frequente esemplificare con immagini prese dalla produzione dell’arte, vere e proprie sostanze sono  quelle naturali. L'uomo, infatti, può indurre forme accidentali soltanto, non essenziali in ciò che già esiste ed ha, quindi, una propria natura già. dicevano ch’è impossibile definire quel che una cosa è('),  perchè definire, per essi, è un tirare il discorso in lungo,  ma si può dire e insegnare soltanto qualche qualità della  cosa: dell’argento, ad es., non ciò che è, ma che è simigliante al piombo. C'è, allora, una sostanza; e di essa si dà  una definizione e un concetto: di quella cioè composta, sia  essa sensibile o intelligibile; ma non degli elementi da cui  essa risulta composta, una volta che il discorso definitorio    ‘significa che qualcosa conviene a qualche altra, delle quali    l'una dev’esser presa nel senso di materia, l’altra di forma.   Questo ci fa vedere anche che, se si vuol sostenere da  un certo punto di vista che le sostanze sono numeri, si dovrà  intendere come s’è detto, e non, come alcuni pretendono (?),  che sian collezioni di unità. Si dica pure che la definizione  è un numero, poichè infatti è divisibile e si risolve in elementi indivisibili (chè i concetti non sono infiniti): proprio  come il numero. E come il numero, se tu vi sottrai o aggiungi qualcuno degli elementi suoi  e sia pure il più  piccolo , non è più lo stesso numero, ma un altro; così, Se la sua essenza è semplice (v. VII. 10, 17), anche per A. è oggetto di  vénows, non di 6propdc. Ma qui il discorso va ripreso dal $ 4, come una prova  ‘che il principio di una cosa non è dato da una sonma di elementi. Benchè gli  Antistenici (per i quali, v. Teeteto, 201 e; e lib. V. 29, 2) intendessero ben altro  (la definizione è, per essi, una évopétov cvurioxi, che allunga in un A6y0g paxeés  quella parola unica che sola è propria della cosa: nota, per un confronto, il caso  aristotelico di una definizione meramente verbale, come di «Iliade »). Anzi, A. ne  trae argomento (nel par. seg.) per confermare la validità della definizione, la  quale non è somma (animale + bipede), ma rapporto formale di genere (materia)  a specie (forma). Ovvero, s’intenda la definizione nel senso di VII, 4, 13.    Platone e Platonici pitagorizzanti, identificando le idee con i numeri, e  considerandole insieme come usie e universali, davano anche del processo dofinitorio una ragione matematica. A. oppone alla concezione di un molteplice come  aggregato (e tale è l'idea in quanto usia composta di usie: cfr. n. a VII. 15, 6) la  sua concezione di un molteplice organico, e a quella dell’unità astratta (0 tale è  l’idea in quanto universale) la sua concezione dell'unità concreta. Questi paragrafi, duuque, sono strettamente legati a quanto precede e il capitolo non è,  come sembra (v. Ross, p. 231), una collezione di pensieri sconnessi (lo stesso $ 5,  che sembra interrompere la continuità del ragionamento, è suggerito da quanto  precede circa l'apriorità della forma, che per A. è legata alla questione della  sua eternità, o meno; e introduce il concetto dell’unità viva, naturale, della  sostanza). neppure la definizione e la pura essenza è più la stessa, se vi  togli o aggiungi qualcosa. E anche pel numero ci ha da esser  qualcosa che gli dà unità; ma quel ch’esso sia, per cui il  numero, se possiede unità, è uno, non trovano modo di dire.  Poichè o il numero non ha unità, ed è come un mucchio;  ovvero, se è uno, debbono dirci che cos’ è quel che del molteplice fa un’unità. E poichè la definizione similmente possiede unità, neppure di es sa sanno rendersi conto. Ed è naturale che avvenga così, perchè la ragione è la stessa: la  sostanza è una nello stesso senso, non, come intendono alcuni,  quasi fosse una specie di unità o di punto, ma perchè ciascuna è atto in atto compiuto e una natura determinata.  E come il numero non ammette un più e un meno nell’esser  suo, così neppure la sostanza in quanto forma; ma, se mai,  in quanto è unita alla materia (*).   Bastino queste considerazioni intorno alla generazione e  corruzione delle sostanze suddette, in qual senso è possibile  e in quale no, e intorno alla riduzione di esse al numero.    CariToLO IV.    Per quanto riguarda la sostanza materialmente considerata, non si deve trascurare che, se anche tutto viene da  uno stesso elemento primitivo o dagli stessi elementi primitivi, e una medesima materia serve da principio alla generazione delle cose; pure, c’è una materia propria di ciascuna  di esse. Per es., materia, immediatamente, della flemma sono  elementi dolci e grassi, della bile elementi amari o altri che  siano: anche se hanno la stessa origine. Per uno stesso oggetto ci possono esser più materie, quando una sia materia  dell’altra: poniamo, la filemma si può dire che vien tanto     La sostanza è esattamente (puntualmente, quasi matematicamente) quel  che è. Ci può esser un più o un meno nel suo essere, se mai, considerandola dal  lato materiale (in quanto, poniamo, non ha ancora realizzata pienamente ia sua  forma). dal grasso quanto dal dolce, se il grasso deriva dal dolce;  e si può anche dire che vien dalla bile, se si risolve questa  sino alla sua materia prima. Poichè una cosa si dice che  viene da un’altra in due sensi: o nel senso che l’una è uno  svolgimento dell'altra, o perchè segue all’altra risolta ne’ suoi  elementi ('). Può darsi poi, che la materia sia la stessa,  eppure, mercè la causa motrice, divenga cose diverse, per  es., il legno può diventare tanto un armadio che un letto.  Per alcune cose affatto diverse ci vuole di necessità una  materia diversa: ad es., un’ascia non si potrebbe fare di  legno, e non è questione qui della causa motrice, perchè  nessuno potrebbe fare un’ascia con lana o legno. Se, quindi,  c’è modo di fare uno stesso oggetto di materia diversa, è  chiaro che l’arte e il principio motore è lo stesso. Che se  così la materia come il motore son diversi, anche il prodotto  è diverso.   Quando si domandi quale è la causa di una cosa, potendo di causa parlarsi in molti sensi, bisogna enumerare  tutte quelle che possono far al caso. Per es.: qual’è la causa  dell’uomo in quanto materia? Certamente, il menstruo. Che  cosa fa da motore? Lo sperma, per l’appunto. Quale, da  forma? La pura essenza. Quale, da scopo? Il fine dell’uomo.  Si può dire che queste due ultime cause coincidano. Bisogna,  poi, delle cause addurre quelle più vicine, e se si chiede la  materia, non rimontare al fuoco e alla terra, ma a quella  ch’è propria.   Per le sostanze naturali, dunque, e soggette a generazione  è necessario procedere così, se si vuole procedere dirittamente,  dato che tali e tante sono le cause, e che noi dobbiamo conoscere le cose per le loro cause. Ma per le sostanze che,  sebbene naturali, sono eterne, la questione è diversa. Alcune  probabilmente, non hanno materia, o almeno non l’hanno  come quella ricordata, ma una materia mutabile soltanto  spazialmente. E neppure per quante cose avvengano naturalmente, ma non sono sostanze, non si può far questione di materia: in esse è la sostanza soggetta al fenomeno che  fa da sostrato. Poniamo che si cerchi la causa dell’eclissi.  Qual’è la materia? Non c’è la materia, ma c’è la luna  che subisce l’eclissi. Quale la causa motrice dell’eclissi, e  che sottrae la luce? La terra. Quanto allo scopo, non pare  che sia da parlarne('). La causa formale è il concetto, ma  esso resta oscuro, se non è accompagnato dalla causa.  Per es., che cos’è l’eclissi? Privazione di luce. Se si aggiunge che ciò avviene perchè la terra s’interpone nel mezzo  tra il sole e la luna, allora questo è un concetto accompa-  gnato dalla causa (?). Quanto al sonno, non è chiaro quale  sia il suo primo sostrato. Che altro  si può dire  se non  l’animale? Certo, ma da qual punto di vista considerato?  e qual è l’organo ch’è propriamente affetto? Il cuore, o un  altr’organo. Poi: da che cosa è prodotto? Anche: qual’è  l’affezione propria, non dell'organismo intero, ma di quell'organo? Si dirà ch’è una specie d’immobilità? Sì, ma per  quale affezione propria e primitiva di un organo ha luogo  quell’ immobilità?    CapPiTtoLO V.    Poichè alcune cose esistono senz’esser generate, o non  esistono senza che perciò siano perite, ad es., il punto (*)  (dato che si possa parlare della sua esistenza) e, in generale, le specie e le forme; e poichè non la bianchezza diviene, ma il legno bianco  se ogni cosa che si genera, si  genera da qualcosa e diviene qualcosa ; non basta, dunque,  che ci siano due contrari perchè si generino l’uno dall’altro:  un uomo nero diventa bianco, ma non si può dir nello stesso Il movimento del sole è, senza dubbio, Evexé tov, e così quello della luna;  ma i due, agendo insieme, possono produrre un risultato che non è Évexé tou»  (Ross, a q. l.): l'eclissi è, dunque, un esempio di quel taùrépatov, di cui si parlò  in VI. 2-4 e VII. 7.    Efficiente: che, in questi casi, si accompagna alla formale in sostituzione  della finale (Ilnddove, nelle cose che si generano secondo natura, la causa formale è insieme finale, $ 4, anzi efficiente-finale). modo che il nero diventi bianco. Aggiungi che non in ogni  cosa c’è materia, ma in quelle soltanto che si generano e  passano le une nelle altre: tutte quelle che ci sono o non  ci sono, senza quel passaggio, non hanno materia. Sorge  qui la questione: come si comporta la materia di ogni cosa  rispetto ai contrari? Per es., se il corpo ha in potenza la  salute, e alla salute è contraria la malattia, ha, dunque, in  potenza tutte due? E l’acqua è in potenza vino e aceto?  Ovvero essa è materia del primo secondo la sua natura e  per rispetto alla forma, e del secondo per privazione e per  una degenerazione contro natura? Si può domandare anche  perchè, sebbene l’aceto venga dal vino, il vino non è materia dell’aceto e aceto in potenza. E l’essere vivente, similmente, è forse un cadavere in potenza? Non pare: la degenerazione non è mai sostanziale; ma è la materia dell’essere  vivente quella che nella degenerazione è materia e potenza  del cadavere, così come l’acqua dell’aceto. L'una cosa, qui,  vien dall’altra nello stesso modo, che la notte dal giorno (!).  Quando il passaggio tra gli opposti è in questo modo, bisogna rimontare sino alla materia d’entrambi: per es.,  affinchè dal morto si generi il vivo, bisogna che quello ritorni prima alla materia, e da questa poi si avrà il vivo;  e l’aceto ridivenga acqua, per poi diventar così vino. Ripigliamo la questione sollevata intorno alla definizione  e al numero: qual’è la causa della loro unità? Poichè tutte  le volte che le cose hanno parti molteplici e il tutto non è     Cfr. XII. 4, 5: l'aria è la loro materia comune. Questa, dunque, può  avere un processo di evo!zimento (l’acqua diventa vino), o di degenerazione  (aceto); onde soltanto per accidens si può dire che il vino diventa aceto. Così il  vivo non è il morto in potenza (quasi che questo fosse l’atto di quella potenza:  l'atto è sempre una realtà superiore): scomparendo la forma, con la morte, resta  la materia, e questa è che si corrompe (e ridotta alla materia originaria può  riprendere di qui il processo ascensivo verso la vita). Ricorda, per la generazione  dei contrari, il Fedone come un mucchio, ma è qualcosa di totale oltre le sue parti,  dev’esserci qualcosa che sia la causa della loro unità (‘). Lo  vediamo anche nei corpi: talora è un’esterna adesione la causa  della loro unità, talora una coesione interna, o altra condizione del genere. La definizione è una serie di parole che  ha unità, non per un collegamento di parti similmente all’ Iliade, ma perchè di un’unica cosa. Che cos'è, per es., che  fa l’unità dell’uomo, e perchè è uno e non molti, animale e  bipede? Alcuni dicono, per l'appunto, che esiste un animale  in sè e un bipede in sè. E perchè, allora, l’uomo non  potrebb’essere quelle due cose, ed esser uomo per partecipazione, non del concetto di uomo e di un’unica essenza,  ma di due, animale e bipede? In breve: l’uomo non sarebbe,  così, una cosa sola, ma più: animale e bipede. È chiaro che  per questa via, abituale a quei che in tal modo definiscono  e parlano, non si riesce a dar conto e a sciogliere la questione. Se, invece, come noi dieemmo, l’una cosa è materia  e l’altra è forma, l’una è in potenza e l’altra in atto, quel  che si cercava non apparirà più dubbio (’). La difficoltà  sarebbe la stessa come se la definizione di « vestimento » (5)  fosse « bronzo sferico »: poichè quel nome sarebbe il segno  del concetto, e rimarrebbe quindi a sapere la causa per  cui la sfericità e il bronzo fanno una cosa sola. Ma la  difficoltà scompare, se si fa osservare che l’uno è materia e     Nota in questo concetto il deciso superamento dell’empirismo, come già  in VII. 17, 8 88.    Cfr. VII. 12. Ma in questo capitolo il pensiero è portato a un punto più chiaro  e decisivo per il concetto dell’atto che in questo libro accompagna o sostituisce  quello della forma. Qui il dualismo è superato: materia e forma non 8’ intendono,  e non esistono, l'uno fuori del rapporto all’altro (e così essenza ed esistenza,  individuo e universale): è la forma stessa che dà ragione del sinolo nel processo  di determinazione di questo dalla potenzialità all’attualità. Per il $ 1 osserva lo  Schwegler (che ha spesso acute considerazioni per il lato filosofico): « Ci sono  due specie di unità: quella dell'aggregato e quella organica. Nelle produzioni  organiche della natura, ad es., il tutto non è un prodotto, ma, invece, il prius e  la ragione del prodursi delle parti. Soltanto ciò che ha unità formale, ha una  ragione del suo esser uno; tuttavia anche i corpi inorganici, 6e fanno un insieme,  hanno un principio, esteriore, per la loro unità » {p. 151).    Cfr. VII. 4, 7: per accentuare, con l’unità del nome, l’unità della definizione.    ARISTOTELE, Metafisica, 18    Q74 METAFISICA    l’altra è forma. E qual’è la causa per cui l’essere potenziale 5  diviene attuale? Non ce ne può esser altra, nelle cose soggette al divenire, fuori di quella efficiente. Nè può esserci  causa diversa, per cui l’essere ch’era sfera in potenza è ora  sfera in atto, se non la pura essenza, ch'è la ragion d’essere  di ciascuno dei due. '  La materia poi può essere o sensibile o intelligibile (*). 6  E il concetto si compone sempre di una parte ch’è la materia e di una ch’è l’attualità sua: per es., cerchio è una  certa figura piana. Le cose, invece, che  come individua- 7  lità, qualità, quantità  non hanno materia nè sensibile nè  1046 b intelligibile, sono immediatamente ciascuna qualcosa che ha  unità e realtà per se stessa (?). Questa è anche la ragione 8  per cui nelle detinizioni non han luogo nè l’essere nè l’uno:  chè la pura essenza è immediatamente, per se stessa, qualcosa che ha essere e unità, onde nella definizione e nella  pura essenza non c’è bisogno di chiedere altra causa, fuori  di loro stesse, della loro unità e realtà: poichè ciascuna quel  certo essere e quell’unità determinata, che le competono, li     La distinzione, qui, ha altro senso che in VII. 10, 18 (dove riguarda le  cose). Nella definizione il genere è materia intelligibile. (Anche materia sensibile, se la definizione è, in più largo senso, del composto e della cosa sensibile: cfr. VII. 7, 12; VIII. 2, 6-7).    Tali sono le categorie. « Ch'esse non abbiano materia intelligibile, è chiaro:  materia intelligibile noi diciamo i generi, e delle categorie non c'è un genere,  chè sono esse i generi somml e non è possibile che ci sia una natura che li sorpassi in generalità. Ma neppure hanno materia sensibile, perchè questa è delle  cose composte e sensibili, non già delle cose semplici e intelligibili: ora, l’individualità e la quantità e le altre categorie sono realtà semplici e intelligibili »:  Alessandro (562, 32). Noi le diremmo concetti puri: efr. VII. 9, 8-9.  Per l'ente”  e l'uno, cfr. III. 4,31 ss. Il tne può esser inteso per le pure essenze in generale  (cfr. IX. 10,7; X. 1,4), 0 per quella delle categorie (così il Ross). Nel primo caso  l’immediatezza e molteplicità dovrebbero esser risolte ($ 5) nell'unità mediata  del pensiero definitorio, quando questo fosse considerato, non più in una logica  discorsivo-soggettiva, ma nell'attività del nous che in essa si esplica. Questo  punto è molto oscuro in A., per il quale il nous è il primo principio logico-gnoeeologico, e però principio e fine anche della verità del pensiero dianoetico; ma  l’atto della vénaws non perciò si risolve nel processo di esso: chè nell'uomo, come  fn Dio, esso è, por se stesso, immobile (e il suo proprio oggetto è semplice, senza  composizione). Cfr. IX. 10, 6-9; XII. 9,8. Nel secondo caso si dovrebbe intendere la definizione (delle categorie) in senso molto largo. ha immediatamente, per se stessa, e non come se li ricavasse  dall’ Ente e dall’Uno considerati come suoi generi, ovvero  come se questi esistessero separatamente oltre ciascuna di esse.   Intanto, questa difficoltà ha dato occasione ad alcuni di  parlare di partecipazione, senza che poi abbiano saputo dire  quale sia la causa della partecipazione, e in che consista questo  partecipare. Altri parlano di associazione psichica, e, per es.,  Licofrone (') dice che la scienza è un’associazione del sapere  con l’anima; e c’è chi dice che la vita è una composizione  o collegamento di anima e corpo. Ma, così, si può ripeter  sempre lo stesso discorso: e l’esser sano sarà un’associazione  o composizione o collegamento, che dir si voglia, dell'anima  con la salute; e il triangolo di bronzo sarà una composizione  di bronzo con triangolo, e il bianco una composizione di una  superficie con la bianchezza. La ragione per cui parlano così  è ch’essi cercano un concetto unificatore e insieme la differenza della potenza e dell’attualità. Ma, come noi abbiamo  esposto, la materia ultima e la forma sono una e medesima  cosa (°), l’una in potenza, l’altra in atto. Sarebbe come se  uno cercasse la causa dell’unità e dell’esser uno un oggetto:  chè uno è qualsiasi oggetto, e l’essere in potenza e l’essere  in atto sono in certo modo una cosa sola. Sicchè non c’è  qui altra causa dell’unità tranne quella motrice, che fa passare l’essere dalla potenza all’atto. Ciò, invece, ch'è immateriale, è sempre e assolutamente un’unità per se stesso (?).     Sofista seguace di Gorgia: cfr. Zeller, IS, 1323 (n. 3).    f toyxktn Gin xal # poegà taòrò xal Év (come gradi di un processo unico,  ma cfr. nota a IX. 8, 1). Questo non hanno inteso coloro (Platonici e altri) che,  dopo aver separate le due cose, cercano «un concetto unificatore ».    Qui par chiaro che (in contrasto con le cose soggette al divenire) si parla  del tne in generale, e delle specie esistenti come puro atto (di cui alla nota a  VII. 8, 3). Così vien conchiusa la polemica contro l’ Uno e l'Ente dei Platonici,  risolvendo l’astrattezza di questi principii nella determinatezza del tne (che ha  unità e realtà immediatamente per se stessa: $ 7), o del xéde x (in cui l'unità e  realtà del tne si media nel processo della potenza-atto: per quanto ricompaia  quì l'immediatezza del tne nell’identità dei due termini materia-forma, o si rimandi il principio unificatore della loro dualità a una causa motrice o efficiente,  $ 5, la quale può essere esteriore all’attualità del c68e t.: l’uomo che genera  l'uomo. o lo scultore che produce la statua).    LIBRO NONO    CapPiTOLO I.    1 Noi abbiam parlato dell'essere fondamentale, cioè della  sostanza, ch’è ciò a cui tutte le altre categorie dell’ essere  si riferiscono: chè in grazia del concetto di sostanza consideriamo come reale tutto il resto: la quantità, la qualità, e  quant'altro si predica di essa in questo modo: tutte implicano il concetto della sostanza, come dicemmo nei ragio 2 namenti precedenti. Ma, poichè dell’essere si parla, per un  rispetto, come qualcosa di determinato, o come quantità o  qualità; per un altro, come potenza e come atto finale, e  come il realizzarsi di questo ,  dobbiamo adesso passare   3 a dir della potenza e dell’atto finale. E cominceremo dalla  potenza nella sua principale e più propria significazione,  ancorchè non sia quella che più c’interessa qui (*): poichè 1046 a     Eoyov è tanto l’azione o funzione che realizza il fine (tò téAi0g), quanto la  cosa in cui questo si è realizzato. Più difficile ancora è tradurre èvreAéyera [forse,  da vò tvredèg Egov, 0 Evreiws Exov: Ross]: atto finale, sia nel senso che ha il fine  in 8è, e sia nel senso che esso è il fine a cui tutto il resto tende come alla propria perfezione. In questo secondo significato easo vuol essere atto puro, atto in  atto, onde ogni potenzialità sia risolta nell’attualità piena e perfetta del t6be tu  (che ha realizzato, così, il tne). Nel primo significato èvr. è, più generalmente,  l’attività (#véoyea) o principio efficiente del processo che porta la potenza  a risolversi nell’attualità, la materia nella forma o pura essenza del reale.  Cfr. nota a VII. 13, 1.    In Metafisica (chè il movimento è oggetto, più propriamente, della Fisica).  Alla l. 36: yenarpotamn (Ab, Aless.).    278 METAFISICA    potenza ed atto si estendono molto al di là delle cose considerate meramente in rapporto al movimento. Dopo di aver  accennato alla potenza in quella significazione, illustreremo,  nella determinazione: dei concetti riguardanti l'attualità,  anche gli altri suoi significati.   Altrove (‘') abbiamo spiegato già come le parole Potenza  e Potere si possono adoperare in molti sensi. Lasceremo qui  da parte tutti quelli in cui si parla di potenza per semplice  omonimia: chè alcune si chiamano potenze soltanto per una  certa somiglianza: ad es., in geometria possibile o impossibile dicesi quel che è o non è in certo modo.   Ma quelle che appartengono alla stessa specie, tutte hanno  carattere di principii, e vengono riferite ad un unico concetto  originario della potenza, ch’è quello di esser principio di  mutamento in altro o in sè in quanto altro. C'è, infatti, la  potenza di patire, che nel paziente stesso è il principio di  mutamento passivo per opera di altro o di sè in quanto altro;  così come c’è l’abito per cui una cosa non può patire peggioramento o distruzione da un principio di mutamento che  sia in altro o in sè in quanto altro. Tutte queste definizioni  contengono il concetto di potenza nel suo senso originario.  E potenze poi chiamansi medesimamente sia quelle del fare  o patire in generale, sia quelle del fare o patire in maniera  conveniente: sì che anche nel concetto di esse è immanente  in certo modo il concetto delle potenze dette dianzi. È dunque  evidente che la potenza del fare e quella del patire esistono,  per un rispetto, come una sola e medesima potenza, e per Vedi V.12 (e note per la traduzione dei termini). In generale, potenza è iu  primo luogo la facoltà o capacità di dar principio a un processo di mutamento  in altro, o in 8è in quanto altro (come se un medico curi se stesso: egli cura sè,  paziente, in quanto altro da sè, agente); o di ricevere questo processo. La potenza è, quindi, o attiva o passiva: quest'ultima è o di patire in generale, o di  ricevere un mutamento in meglio (o in peggio): potenza attiva e potenza passiva, quindi, possono esser ristrette al senso dell’agiro o patire bene (in modo  conveniente rispetto a un fine). Come nota il Bonitz (p. 379), questa distinzione  si complica con l'altro significato del Buvarév e dduivarov, di ciò ch'è « possibile »  o «impossibile ». Nè A. tiene abbastanza distinti questi due punti di vista: l'uno  reale; l’altro logico-reale, in assoluto, o in senso empirico (di ciò che può accadere, o no): ch'è un senso affine a quello dell’ èvSeyxbpevov. altro rispetto come cose diverse: poichè fornito di potenza è  un oggetto tanto se ha la capacità di patire esso stesso per  opera di altro, quanto se ha quella di far patire un altro  per opera sua. Per un rispetto, infatti, la potenza è in quel  che patisce, perchè esso patisce ciò che patisce, ed è altro  dall’agente, in quanto ha in sè un certo principio a essere  [e a non-essere], ed è là materia un tal principio: così, il  grasso è infiammabile, e ciò ch’è fragile si può far in pezzi,  e via dicendo similmente per gli altri casi. Per altro rispetto,  la potenza è nell’agente, per es. il caldo o l’arte di costruire  è l’uno nel calorifero, l’altra nel costruttore. Per cui, se in  un essere i due aspetti non sono distinti, non può patir nulla  da sè: esso è uno e identico con sè, e non diverso da sè.   La mancanza di potenza, poi, o impotenza, è la privazione ch'è il contrario di tale potenza: onde ogni potenza  si oppone a un’impotenza, dello stesso oggetto e per lo stesso  rapporto. Ma di privazione si parla in molti sensi ('): privazione c’è se l'oggetto non ha certe qualità, semplicemente;  o non le ha mentre naturalmente dovrebbe averle, o sempre,  o quando dovrebbe averle: e in quest’ultimo caso se ne manca  in un modo determinato, per es. perfettamente, o ne manca  in ogni modo. E in certi casi parliamo di privazione anche  per quelle cose a cui la violenza ha tolto ciò che avrebbe  naturalmente. Poichè principii siffatti trovansi e negli esseri inanimati  e in quelli animati, nell'anima e in quella parte di essa  provvista della ragione, è chiaro che anche delle potenze  alcune sono irrazionali, altre s'accompagnano alla ragione.  Tutte le arti e scienze poietiche sono potenze: principii,  cioè, di mutamento in altro o nell’agente in quanto altro.  Tutte quelle dotate di ragione sono, ognuna, potenza insieme di contrari; di quelle irrazionali ognuna è potenza di Così anche in un solo contrario: ad es., il caldo ha la potenza di scaldare  soltanto, mentre la scienza medica riguarda tanto la malattia  quanto la salute. E la ragione è che la scienza è concetto, e 3  uno stesso concetto fa vedere insieme il fatto e la sua privazione, ma non nella stessa misura, perchè, pur essendo il  concetto di entrambi, fa vedere piuttosto il lato positivo. Sì  che anche ognuna di dette scienze sarà, insieme, dei contrari: dell’uno, tuttavia, per se stessa, dell'altro non per se  stessa: poichè il concetto riguarda l’uno per se stesso, l’altro  in certo modo per accidente (‘). Esso fa vedere, infatti, il  contrario negativamente e per rimozione: chè il contrario  del fatto consiste nella privazione originaria, e questa si ottiene con la rimozione del contrario positivo. E poichè i con- 4  trari non possono esser insieme nello stesso oggetto, e la  scienza invece per la sua razionalità è una potenza quale  8’è detta; e poichè l’anima ha in sè il principio del movimento,  avviene che, mentre ciò ch’è salubre produce soltanto la salute, e il calorifero soltanto calore, e il frigorifero  soltanto freddo, l’uomo che sa produce amendue i contrari.  Poichè il concetto abbraccia ambedue, sebbene non nella 5  stessa maniera, e ha sede nell’anima, la quale, possedendo  in sè il principio del movimento, e unendo col pensiero i  contrari nello stesso oggetto, li può muovere (?) entrambi in  virtù del medesimo principio. Ecco perchè le potenze agenti  razionalmente, abbracciando i contrari con un unico principio, la ragione, operano contrariamente a quelle che della  ragione sono sfornite. Così come il non-essere è un essere per accidente, non in sè e per sè. Nel  pensiero, tuttavia, il rapporto è più profondo: i due concetti sono uniti; anzi uno  è la negazione (&rmégpaars), la rimozione (&ropopd) 0 privazione originaria (reotm,  radicale), dell'altro (del positivo): dal quale soltanto ricava il proprio significato.  C'è un accenno, rilevato dallo Schwegler (p. 160), al concetto della mediazione.  Infatti, il principio di entrambi è il medesimo ($ 5).    Produrre (i concetti contrari dell'oggetto, i. e. l’oggetto stesso della contrarietà). If principio del movimento è l’appetito, comune agli animali. Ma l'uomo  soltanto è potenza attiva capace di produrre effetti contrari, perchè presenti insieme nel guo pensiero, e questo solo fa dell'appetito una volontà consapevole  (Si può trovare, così, un accenno al libero arbitrio). L'animale non sa, ed è, per  ciò, come le cose, che non hanno possibilità di scelta. È evidente anche che alla potenza di operare o patire in  modo conveniente si accompagna sempre la potenza difoperare o patire semplicemente, laddove a questa non si accompagna sempre quella: per la ragione che, se si opera bene,   . necessariamente, anzitutto, si opera; ma non per il fatto di  operare, semplicemente, segue di necessità che anche si  operi bene. Ci sono alcuni, ad es. i Megarici, i quali dicono che il  potere c’è soltanto quando c’è l’azione, e che quando l’azione  non c’è, neppure c’è il potere: per cui, poniamo, se uno  non costruisce, non ha il potere di costruire, ma l’ha chi è  costruttore quando costruisce; e negli altri casi, similmente.  Non è difficile vedere in quali assurdità vanno a conchiu 2 dere. Poichè è chiaro che nessnno sarebbe più costruttore  se non costruisce, laddove esser costruttore è esser in grado  di costruire; e così dicasi per le altre arti. Se, dunque, è  impossibile che possegga tali arti chi non le ha una volta  imparate e apprese, ed è impossibile che uno non le possegga più se non le perde (o per dimenticanza, o per qualche 1047 a  malattia, o perchè è passato molto tempo: non certamente  perchè intanto sia andata distrutta l’arte: chè essa c'è  sempre): come il costruttore perderebbe l’arte quando cessa  di costruire, e come poi di nuovo l’acquisterebbe appena si   3 mette di nuovo a costruire? E dicasi lo stesso per le cose  inanimate: nè il freddo, nè il caldo, nè il dolce, nè in generale nessuna cosa sensibile esisterà più se noi non la sentiamo:  sì che ad essi accadrà di ripetere il ragionamento di Protagora. E neppure possederà la sensibilità chi noh si trovi     Lett.: l'oggetto (me&iypa) dell’arte, il concetto. Questo capitolo e il seguente si attaccano meglio al cap. I.    Cfr. IV. 5-6. Costoro, dunque, accentuano della dottrina protagorea il momento attualistico (nel senso puntualistico, dell'istante temporale). Per quanto  riguarda il concetto della possibilità, che costoro fan coincidere con quello della  realtà (dell'essere, riannodandosi, così, all'affermazione parmenidea, che esclude a sentire effettivamente, in atto. Se, quindi, cieco è chi, pur  fornito da natura della vista, non vede quando sarebbe in  condizione di vedere, accadrà che uno stesso, perdurando ad  essere, diventerà molte volte al giorno cieco e sordo. Inoltre,  se impotente (') si-deve dire ciò ch’è privato della potenza,  ciò che non è già in divenire sarà impotente a divenire, e  mentisce quindi chi afferma che ciò ch’è impotente a divenire  è o sarà: poichè questo appunto si vuol dire con «impotente ». Ma, allora, con questi ragionamenti si sopprimono  il movimento e il divenire: ciò che si trova in uno stato,  sempre starà in quello, e chi è seduto starà seduto sempre,  e chi si siede non potrà alzarsi più: poichè, chi non ha la potenza di alzarsi, è impotente ad alzarsi. Se, dunque, questi  son discorsi che non reggono, è manifesto che potenza e atto  non sono la stessa cosa, e poichè, invece, quei discorsi fanno  della potenza e dell’atto una sola cosa, bisogna dire ch’ essi  cercano di sopprimere una differenza che non è trascurabile.  Invece, noi diciamo che ben può darsi che qualcosa abbia  la potenza di essere, e intanto non sia, e abbia la potenza  di non essere, e intanto sia; e che la cosa sta similmente  per tutte le categorie, onde, ad es., chi ha la potenza di  camminare può anche non camminare, e chi ha ia potenza  di non camminare può anche camminare (?). Un essere ba  una certa potenza se non c’è nessuna impossibilità ch'egli    il nou-essere e il divenire), e intorno al significato della testimonianza di Diodoro Crono in proposito (sul quale v. Zeller, II4, 1, 269), v. MEIER, in Archiv f.  Gesch. da. Philos., XIII. 31, e le considerazioni del Ross (a q. l.). O «impossibile » (&8yvatov): qui sono conglobati i due significati, della  potenza reale e della possibilità logica; e la tesi vien presentata da A., così:  Se impotente (impossibile) è ciò che non può (non ha la potenza di) essere, di  questo non si può dire nè che è, nè che sarà: può essere soltanto ciò che attualmente è anche quello che sarà o non sarà.  Ciù che già non è in divenire, ciò  che non sta accadendo, attuandosi (yiyvépevov, meglio di yevépevov).    LI. 23-24: fadlterv e 6v, invece di fadltov e eivar (così anche il Ross).  Per accentuare di più il concetto di possibilità bisognerebbe tradur quel che  segue, così: « Possibile è una cosa se non c'è nessuna impossibilità (nessun assurdo) che abbia luogo l'atto di ciò di cui quella dicesi aver la potenza». Una  contaminazione dei due concetti è necessaria ad evitare l'apparenza, almeno  verbale, di un circolo vizioso. traduca in atto ciò di cui dicesi aver la potenza. Voglio dire,  ad es., che se uno ha la potenza di sedere e si trovi a dover  sedere, non c’è nessuna impossibilità, per lui, di passar all’atto. E similmente se si tratta d’esser mosso o di muovere,  di situarsi o di situare, di essere o divenire, di non essere  o non divenire.   La parola «attività», implicante un rapporto all’ entele‘chia o atto perfetto, sebbene estesa ad altri significati, trae  origine principalmente dalla considerazione dei movimenti,  poichè sembra che il movimento soprattutto sia attività. Ecco  perchè alle cose che non esistono nessuno attribuisce movimento, bensì alcuni altri predicati: si dice, per es., che  sono pensabili o desiderabili cose che non esistono; ma non  che siano in movimento: e questo perchè, altrimenti, cose  che attualmente non esistono dovrebbero già esser in atto. 1047 b  Ben è vero che, delle cose che non esistono, aleune hanno  la possibilità di esistere; ma non esistono, in quanto non  ancora è cominciato il processo finale che le realizza. Ora, se « fornito di potenza» è quel che s'è detto (in  quanto ne è una conseguenza) (*), è manifesto che non si  può esser nel vero dicendo: questo è possibile, ma non si  realizzerà mai: giacchè, in questo modo, ci sfuggirebbe che ci  son cose che non posson essere. Prendiamo un esempio: se  uno dicesse che la diagonale è possibile misurarla, ma non L'èvéeyera sembra, qui (6-9), distinta dalla xivnois, in quanto questa riguarda il principio di mutamento in altro (I, 5), quella, equivalendo all’evreréyera  (nel primo significato, di cui alla nota 1, 2), è attività che realizza se stessa (come  Sè o come altra? cfr. XII. 9, 5-6). Il pensabile non esiste fisicamente, e però non  gli si attribuisce movimento; pure può esistere nel processo di realizzazione dell'attività del pensiero, se questo si pone a pensarlo.    dvvatév è quando non c'è nessuna impossibilità ecc., come al $ 7 del capitolo precedente.  Costoro, attualizzando l’eusere parmenideo, sopprimono la  distinzione tra ciò che ha e ciò che non ha la potenza di realizzarsi (tra « possibile » e «impossibile »: tutto è possibile, anche se non avverrà mai). sarà misurata mai, perchè niente vieta che una cosa che  può essere o divenire, non sia ora nè in seguito,  costui    ragionerebbe come se non ci fossero casi d’impossibilità. Invece, da quel che s’è stabilito dianzi deriva di necessità  che, affinchè sia lecito anche solo supporre l’essere o il divenire di una cosa che non esiste ancora, ma è possibile,  bisogna ch’essa non racchiuda nulla d’impossibile. Ma nel  caso accennato si avrebbe qualcosa d’impossibile: chè la  diagonale e il lato non sonò commisurabili. Si badi che il  falso e l'impossibile non sono la stessa cosa: che tu stia in  piedi ora, è falso, ma non è impossibile (').   E chiaro è, insieme, che se, A essendo, è necessariamente 8, allora, se A è possibile, dev’ essere possibile anche  B: poichè, se questa possibilità non seguisse di necessità,  niente impedirebbe la possibilità ch’esso non sia neppure.  Poniamo, ora, che A sia possibile. Allora, una volta che 4  è possibile, se si pone che 4 sia realmente, nulla d’ impossibile dovrà risultarne. Allora, anche B dev’essere reale.  Invece, si voleva sostenere ch’è impossibile. Poniamo, allora, Vero e falso possono riguardare soltanto la logica discorsiva,  ma anche la verità o falsità reale: nel qual ultimo caso, l'impossibile, coincidendo col contradditorio, è anche il falso (cfr. V. 12, 8-9 e 29, 1). L'impossibile,  invece, qui, non è il contradditorio, semplicemente, ma «ciò che non ha la potenza  di realizzarsi ». Il ragionamento mira dunque ad affermare la necessità che la  potenza, 6e è reale, passi (o abbia l’effettiva capacità di passare) all’atto: si realizzi, cioè, quandochessia, poichè non presenta nessuna difficoltà, reale e logica,  interna. Così mi par da intendere anche quel che segue, in cui il rapporto tra  A e 8 non dovrebb'esser pensato come rapporto tra due realtà, ma come rapporto tra due concetti e momenti del processo (potenza e atto) della stessa realtà.  (In Anal. Pr., dove è lo stesso ragionamento, il rapporto è tra premessa e conseguenza nel sillogismo ipotetico). Non si scordi, infatti, che A. qui  polemizza contro l’affermazione megarica Buvatrdv pèv toòl, oùx Eorar dé: ch'è  inaccettabile, dice A., perchè, dato che A e B sian due concetti di cui l’uno richiama l’altro, non si può affermare la possibilità o realtà dell'uno senza affermare la possibilità o realtà dell'altro. Il passaggio dalla potenza all'atto è,  quindi, logicamente necessario, e ancho realmente, data la concezione deterministica universale di A., per il quale ogni processo, essendo in qualche modo  sempre già iniziato, deve pervenire al suo compimento; ma, poichò la questione  è qui realistica anche in senso empirico, il passaggio o compimento può non  esser determinato nel quando e nel come. Cfr. nota a VI. 3, 4 per il concetto  dell’accidente e del caso. che B sia impossibile. Se B è impossibile, impossibile necessariamente è anche A. Ma s'era posto che A fosse possibile: allora, anche B è possibile. Se, dunque, A, è possibile, anche B sarà possibile, dato che A e B siano in tale  relazione che la realtà dell’uno porti di necessità la realtà  dell'altro. Se, trovandosi A B in quella relazione, la possibilità di B non stesse a questo modo, allora neppure 4 B  avranno tra loro la relazione che s'era posta. Se, invece,  quando A è possibile, di necessità anche 2 è possibile, dato  che A sia reale, sarà necessariamente reale anche B: poichè,  che l’esser possibile di B consegua di necessità se l’essere  di A è possibile, vuol dire appunto questo: che, dato che  A sia possibile, quando e come è possibile, anche la possibilità di B e il quando e il come di essa son dati. Di tutte le potenze che possediamo, parte sono congenite,  come quelle dei sensi; parte si acquistano con l’abitudine,  come quella di suonar il flauto; ovvero con l’insegnamento,  come quella delle arti ('). Quelle che si acquistano con l’abitudine e col ragionamento, esigono di necessità un precedente esercizio dell’attività. Quelle invece che non s’acquistano così, e le potenze passive, di quel precedente esercizio  non han bisogno.   Una potenza è sempre una potenza determinata a qualcosa, e in certo tempo, e in certo modo, e con tutte le altre  condizioni che debbono far parte della definizione. E ci sono  esseri che han potenza di muovere secondo ragione, e di  cui le potenze s’accompagnano perciò alla ragione; altri  sono sprovvisti di ragione, e le loro potenze sono irrazionali.  Le prime necessariamente esistono in esseri animati, le se   Per es., l’arte del medico. Questo capitolo prosegue l’argomento del cap. 2.  E si richiama alla nota dottrina aristotelica dell'atto che precede l’'Egts tin cui  consiste la virtù: etica e dianoetica): v. Eth, Nic. conde possono esistere negli animati e in quelli inanimati.  Queste ultime potenze son sì fatte che, quando l’agente e il  paziente s’incontrano in modo conforme alla loro potenza, di  necessità l’uno agisce e l’altro patisce; per le potenze razionali, invece, tale necessità non c’è. Quelle, infatti, son tutte  tali che una di esse può produrre uno solo dei contrari;  queste, invece, entrambi; sì che, se tale necessità valesse  anche per loro, produrrebbero insieme i contrari: il che è  impossibile. Bisogna, allora, che sia qualch’altra cosa quel  che decide (‘). Voglio dire il desiderio o la scelta razionale: quello dei due contrari che l’animale ragionevole appetisce definitivamente, quello farà, quand’ egli si trovi conformemente alla sua potenza e in contatto con ciò che può  ricevere la sua azione. Per cui, necessariamente, l’essere  che ha potenza conforme a ragione, fa, quando lo desidera,  tutto ciò di cui ha la potenza, e nel modo che l’ha. Egli  ha, tuttavia, tale potenza se il paziente è presente e nelle  condizioni determinate: altrimenti, non potrà operare. Nò  c’è bisogno di aggiungere nella determinazione che niente  di fuori faccia impedimento: perchè ognuno ha la potenza  nel modo in cui questa è potenza effettivamente, e questa  non è potenza di operare in qualsiasi modo, ma in condizioni determinate; e in ciò è implicita anche l'esclusione  degl’ impedimenti esteriori, in quanto questi sopprimono alcune delle condizioni essenziali alla determinazione. E così  pure, se uno volesse o desiderasse far nello stesso tempo due  cose diverse o anche opposte, non potrà furle: poichè non  è così ch’egli ha la potenza di fare quelle cose, e non esiste  potenza di farle insieme; egli farà soltanto ciò di cui ha, e  come ha, la potenza. Un principio interno, non esterno: la volontà, ossia l'appetito illuminato  dalla ragione (principio delle virtù etiche), ovvero la ragione mossa dall'appetito  (principio delle virtà dianoetiche): per l’5peew e la xooalgeow v. Eth. Nic.Nota il riflesso della legge dei contrari nella potenza dell'agire  umano, e la determinazione storico-empirica dell'atto volontario, in cui l'antitesi  libertà-necessità è risolta nel senso del secondo termine.    un Dopo aver parlato della potenza considerata in rapporto  al movimento, passiamo a trattare dell’atto per determinare  quel ch’esso è, e i suoi caratteri. Con questo anche la potenza verrà chiarita, pur che si ponga mente alla distinzione  per cui noi diciamo dotato di potenza non soltanto ciò che  muove naturalmente altro o da altro è mosso, senplicemente  o in modo più determinato, ma anche in un significato diverso: che è quello pel quale abbiam condotta anche la ricerca su i precedenti significati.   L’atto è l’esistenza stessa dell’oggetto, non nel senso in  cui diciamo ch’è in potenza (noi diciamo ch’è in potenza,  ad es., un Ermete nel legno, o la metà di una linea nella  linea intera, in quanto si può cavarla da questa; e diciamo  che uno è un pensatore anche se non sta speculando, perchè  è in grado di speculare): intendiamo, invece, che sia in atto.  Ciò che vogliam dire diventa chiaro ricorrendo a casi particolari, induttivamente: non bisogna esigere definizione di  tutto, ma bisogna talora contentarsi d’intuire il significato  dei termini nel loro rapporto (‘). L’atto, dunque, sta alla potenza come il costruire al saper costruire, l’esser desto al  dormire, il guardare al tener chiusi gli occhi pur avendo la  vista, come l’oggetto cavato dalla materia ed elaborato compiutamente sta alla materia grezza e all'oggetto non ancora  finito. Con il primo dei membri di questa differenza intendiamo che venga determinato l'atto, con il secondo la po   tò dv&hoyov ovvogiv (ho svolto il concetto di proporzione; ma qui è compreso anche quello di analogia nel senso più comune). Per il pensiero, cfr. 8. Tom.  (1826): «Nam prima simplicia definiti non possunt, cum non sit in definitionibus  abire in infinitum: actus autem est de primis simplicibus, unde definiri non potest». Vedemmo già (VIII. 6, 7 n.) un equivalente in A. del moderno «concetto  puro ». In questo senso, anche, è anapodittica la filosofia prima (ma, poi, per lui  gi tratta di principi primi nel senso di ciò ch'è dato immediatamente all'origine  del conoseere: cfr. i passi di Anal. Post. cit. in nota a I. 9, 91). Pure, per la parte  di verità ch'è in tale intuizione, non è giustificata l'accusa ch'egli, per definire  certi concetti, ne adoperi altri che già li presuppongono.tenza. Ma non tutte le cose si dicono in atto nel medesimo 6  significato, salvo che non s’intenda analogicamente, come  quando si dice: questo sta in questo o a questo nello stesso  modo che quello sta in quello o a quello. Esse, invece, sono  in atto, parte, come il movimento in rapporto alia potenza;  parte, come la sostanza in rapporto a una certa materia (').  Per l’ infinito (*), tuttavia, e pel vuoto, e per tutte le cose 7  di questa specie, si parla di potenza e atto in significato diverso da quello, più usuale, di quando diciamo, ad es., che  uno guarda, o cammina, o che un oggetto è veduto. Queste  affermazioni possono talora corrispondere a una realtà vera  e propria: noi diciamo che una cosa si vede, o perchè è  veduta effettivamente, o perchè è in condizione d’esser veduta. L’infinito, invece, non è mai in potenza nel senso che  possa poi diventare in atto una realtà esistente per se stessa:  esso è infinito in potenza per il pensiero. Poichè dal fatto     Nel primo caso l'atto (attività) è definito dal rapporto tra due momenti  del procosso che realizza la forma (questo a questo: per es. il materiale grezzo  in rapporto alla costruzione della casa, o chi è seduto all'alzarsìî e camminare);  nel secondo, come attualità della forma determinata (questo in questo: la casa  esistente, Socrate che cammina). L’eévéoyera è qui distinta dalla x(vnaws, non nel  primo significato dell’EvreAéyewa (v. nota a 3, 9), ma nel secondo.    Il Ross (II, 252) riassume brevemente, dalla Phys. (III. 4-8), la dottrina  di A. su l’infinito. L’estensione è infinita, per A., soltanto nel senso della divisibilità: xatà dualgeswy, non xatà nedodeav (delle sue parti). Il numero, invece,  infinito (&irergov, indefinito) xatà snodateaw, nel senso della possibilità di pensarne sempre uno maggiore; non xetà Bdialgearv (chè dividendo si perviene  all'ultimo limite, all'unità). E la sua infinità non è reale fuori del suo processo.  Il tempo soltanto è infinito xatà Sualpeaw e x. rododeorv : infinitamente divisibile  e realmente infinito; ma la sua infinità è, come quella del numero, in continuo  divenire. Quanto al vuoto, similmente (P/ys., IV. 6-9): per quanto una materia  si pensi più rarefatta di un’altra, non esiste spazio senza qualche materia.   Si può aggiungere che, proprio per questo rapporto tra spazio e materia,.  A. concepisce l'estensione come finita; e che il tempo è per lui infinito nel senso  in cui è eterno il movimento (cfr. XII. 6, 2), ossia il divenire stesso. E che l'infinità del numero, così come quella dello spazio, è veduta nell’attività del peneiero che si esercita su l'oggetto, per sè, sempre finito. Così pel vuoto: solo col  pensiero si può vuotare lo spazio di ogni contenuto. Probabilmente A. polemizza  qui contro la dottrina democritea, oltre che contro i presupposti delle argomentazioni zenoniane e le conseguenti applicazioni della scuola megarica.  Un’esposizione della dottrina, tratta spec. dai libri di fisica, è in A. CovotTiI, Le teorie  dello spazio e del tempo nella filosofia greca fin aà A. (Pisa che non si trova mai la fine a dividere, si deduce che questo  è un atto che ha una realtà puramente potenziale, non che  l'infinito abbia una propria attuale esistenza (').   Delle azioni che hanno termine (*), nessuna ha valore di  fine, ma soltanto di mezzi al fine: per es., il termine del  dimagrare è la magrezza, e se quel che d imagra si riguarda  così, quando è in questo movimento che non ha raggiunto  ancora lo scopo per cui il movimento avviene, non si può  dire che ciò costituisca un’azione, o, per lo meno, un’azione  perfetta: perchè non è questo il fine. Ma quando nel movimento si trova il fine, allora esso è anche azione. Per es.,  l’atto del vedere è quello stesso di aver veduto, quello di  pensare e intendere è quello stesso dell’aver pensato e inteso; invece, quello di chi impara non è lo stesso di chi ha  imparato, nè quello di chi guarisce è lo stesso di chi è guarito. L’atto del ben vivere è quello stesso dell’aver vissuto  bene, e quello dell’esser felice è lo stesso in chi fu felice.  Altrimenti, bisognerebbe una volta arrivare al termine del  movimento, come quando si fa la cura di dimagrare. Qui,  invece, no: chè si seguita a vivere, sebbene si sia vissuto  f1) Non ostante l’incertezza (l’infinito, in quanto indefinito, ha pure una sua  esistenza), è chiaro ad A. che il concetto d'un infinito attuato è contraddittorio  (onde sì fa strada il sospetto che la vera infinità è soltanto del pensiero).  Cfr. XI. 10. Il Bonitz accusa A. perchè, mentre prima aveva definita la potenza,  contro i Megarici, come capacità di attuarsi, l'attribuisce qui, mira levitate, a  un oggetto che tale capacità non ha. Ma l’infinito non è un oggetto nel senso  delle cose, intorno alle quali verte la disputa precedente. E in ogni modo era da  notare con meraviglia anche il lato profondo, messo allo scoperto da A., in tale  contraddizione.    Il brano seguente, sebbene il pensiero dominante sia abbastanza trasparente, è nel testo tra i più guasti di tutta la Metafisica. Esso manca nel codice  parigino E (sec. X), nel commento di Alessandro e in quello di 8. Tommaso, e  nella traduzione del Bessarione. C'è nel codice laurenziano Ab (sec. XII). AccoGliendo alcune congetture del Bonitz (p. 397) sul testo, si può intendere cosi: il  dimagrare ha per fine la salute, non il fatto della magrezza a cui pon capo il  movimento del dimagrare; e se azione o attività è aver il fine ultimo in sè, 80ltanto l’atto che non si esaurisce in un termine o fine particolare, ma rimane  essenzialmente identico a sè attraverso i momenti del procéèsso, è perfetto, ed è  vera e propria attività formale: tale è l’atto del vedere, del pensare, del vivere,  della felicità. Così la perfezione dell’ &vreAéyera (nel secondo significato) abbassa  a x{wnow ogni altra forma di attività (anche quella dell’apprendere). già. Di questi processi, dunque, gli uni son da dire movi- 11  menti, gli altri attività; poichè ogni movimento è imperfetto:   il dimagrare, l’apprendere, il camminare, il costruire: i quali  sono, appunto, movimenti, e però incompiuti. Infatti non è 12  possibile che coincida il passeggiare con l’aver passeggiato,   il costruire con l’aver costruito, il divenire con l’esser divenuto, o il muoversi e l’essersi mosso, e il muovere e l’aver  mosso: chè son cose diverse. Invece, l’atto del vedere e  quello d’aver visto, del pensare e dell’aver pensato, coincidono. Ora, un processo di quest’ultima specie io lo chiamo  attività; l’altro, movimento.    CapiTtoLO VII.    Da queste e altre simili considerazioni crediamo chiarito 1  quel ch’è l’essere in atto e i suoi caratteri. Ora vogliamo  determinare quando ciascuna cosa è in potenza, e quando  non è: poichè non in qualsivoglia tempo è tale. Per es.,   1049 a la terra è in potenza già un uomo, o non ancora, ma piuttosto quando già è divenuta sperma? E forse neppur allora.  Avviene qui come per la salute: non ogni cosa può esser  guarita o dalla medicina o da sè spontaneamente, ma ci vuol  qualcosa che abbia tale potenza, e cioè abbia già la salute  in potenza. Per le cose che dipendono dal pensiero si può 2  definir la questione così: esse passano dall’essere in potenza  all’atto, quando siano volute e niente faccia impedimento  dal di fuori; e dall'altra parte, in chi ha da guarire, niente  faccia impedimento di quel ch’è in lui ('). Dicasi similmente 3  di ciò che deve diventare una casa: esso è una casa in po   Alessandro (583, 12): « Per es., il medico conduce il malato dalla potenza  alla salute, quando se lo sia proposto e non ci siano impedimenti esteriori: il  luogo, il tempo, ece.: così dunque si dovrà definire l’atto dell'agenterazionale;  quello del paziente, invece, dal non esserci impedimenti interiori: perchè un  malato guarisca, si richiede, infatti, che tutte le sue membra siano in condizione idonea a ricevere la salute ». tenza se niente faccia impedimento di quel ch'è in esso, sl  che alla materia che deve diventar casa, non ci sia nulla  da aggiungere, nè da togliere o mutare. E altrettanto dicasi  per tutte le altre cose di cui il principio generatore è fuori.  Per quelle, invece, di cui il principio generatore è in loro,  esse hanno tale potenza allorquando, nessun ostacolo intervenendo di fuori, si realizzeranno da sè. Lo sperma, ad es.,  non ancora ha tale potenza, abbisognando di passare in altro  e trasformarsi. Solo quando una cosa sia in grado di realizzarsi per un principio suo proprio, si può dire ch’è già in  potenza: lo sperma, invece, ha bisogno d’un altro principio ('): così come la terra non ancora è statua in potenza,  ma deve trasformarsi e divenir bronzo.   Come ognuno può notare, dell’oggetto non diciamo ch'è  questo (in cui è in potenza), ma ch’è fatto di questo: l’armadio, poniamo, non è legno, ma di legno; e il legno non  è terra, ma di terra; e la terra, a sua volta, se deriva da  altro, non è quest’altro, ma è fatta di quest'altro. E quest’altro è sempre, propriamente, la potenza di quel che vien  subito dopo: per cui, ad es., l'armadio non è terra, nè di  terra, ma di legno: chè questo è armadio in potenza, e questa  è propriamente la materia dell’armadio (dell’armadio in generale, il legno in generale; di questo armadio particolare,  questo legno particolare). Che se s'incontra qualcosa di primitivo, che non venga più denominato da altro come fatto  di esso, allora quello è la materia prima: se, per es., la terra  è di aria, e l’aria è di fuoco, e il fuoco non venisse denominato da altro, allora il fuoco sarebbe la materia prima (?).  Questa, poi, soltanto se diviene qualcosa di determinato, è  sostanza. Infatti, in questo differisce il sostrato o soggetto:     Il risultato dell'unione è, poi, propriamente, la materia come potenza concreta dell'essere umano (come principio già del processo generatore).    La quale ha, quindi, sempre qualche determinazione: soltanto in rapporto  a ciò che diventerà (poniamo, l’aria), è materia priva di forma. Ho seguito nel    testo l'emendamento proposto dal Christ (conforme ad Aless., 589, 24). Per secondo ch'è, o no, un «che determinato » (‘). Il sostrato 8    delle affezioni è, ad es., un uomo, un corpo, un’anima; e affezioni sono l’ esser musico o bianco. E quando la musica diviene  nell’uomo, noi non diciamo che egli è la musica, ma musico,  così come non diciamo ch'egli è la bianchezza, ma bianco,  non è la passeggiata o il movimento, ma passeggia o si  muove: così come dianzi dicevamo di un oggetto ch’esso è  fatto di questo o quello. In tutti i casi di questo genere il  sostrato ultimo è la sostanza. In quelli, invece, in cui non  sì tratta di un’affezione, ma quel che vien predicato è una  forma e alcunchè determinato, allora l’ultimo sostrato è la  materia o sostanza materialmente considerata. In ogni caso,  si conchiude che drittamente l’oggetto, che diciamo fatto così  o così, prende questa denominazione dalla materia e dalle  affezioni: perchè quella e queste sono indeterminate. Quando, dunque, si deve dire che un oggetto è in potenza, e quando no,  s’è detto.    CapirtoLo VIII.    Dopo quanto fu determinato dei vari significati in cui si  parla di priorità (*), risulta chiaro che l’atto è prima della,  potenza. È intendo non soltanto della potenza che fu da noi  definita come principio di mutamento in altro o in sè in  quanto altro; ma, in generale, di ogni principio di movimento     Alla 1. 28: xa@'ob (invece di xa#6Aov): proposto dall’Apelt, accolto dal  Ross. Il sostrato, o soggetto, o è un téde ti, sostanza ch'è il soggetto delle determinazioni secondarie; ovvero è la materia, di cuî si predica la determinazione  essenziale, la forma. Cfr. VII. 3, 7 e 13, 1. Il bianco, o la bianchezza, è un indeterminato, se non venga aggiunto  {(aggettivamente, come per la materia) a «uomo», o a «Socrate ».  Per quel che segue, cfr. De Caelo. La natura  è principio del movimento immanente alla cosa stessa; potenza, invece, è principio di movimentò in altro in quanto altro» (o in sè in quanto altro). Sarà,  dunque, immanente alla cosa in quanto sè? Ma, da un lato, l’alterità è necessaria  al movimento; dall’altro, come parlare di un sé della cosa? A. si limita a porre,  qui come altrove, entrambe le esigenze: la dualità dei termini, e l’unità del  processo (equivalente, per A., all'identità dei termini: cfr. anche 1, 7-10).  o d’inerzia. La natura, infatti, appartiene allo stesso genere  della potenza, come quella ch'è principio di movimento, sebbene non in altro, ma nella cosa in quanto è essa stessa.  Di ogni potenza, dunque, così intesa, l’atto è prima, e  pel concetto e per la sostanza; per il tempo, in un senso sì,  in un senso no.   Che sia prima quanto al concetto, è evidente, poichè fornito di potenza, nel senso originario del termine, è ciò che  ha la possibilità di passare all’atto: per es., chiamiamo costruttore chi ha la potenza di costruire, veggente chi è in  grado di vedere, e visibile ciò che si può vedere: così dicasi  per gli altri casi. Sì che necessariamente il concetto di atto  precede quello di potenza, e la conoscenza dell’uno quella  dell’altro.   Esso, poi, è prima quanto al tempo in questo senso: l’individuo attivo è prima di quello in potenza in quanto è lo  stesso per la specie; invece, considerato nella sua identità  numerica, è prima in potenza, e poi in atto. Mi spiego: di  quest'uomo qui ch’è già in atto, o di questo frumento o di  quest’occhio che vede, c’è prima, in tempo, la materia, il  seme, la facoltà visiva, i quali sono uomo, frumento, occhio  che vede, in potenza, non ancora in atto. Tuttavia li precedettero altri esseri in atto, dai quali essi furono generati.  Poichè sempre dall’ente in potenza si passa all’ente in atto  in virtù di un ente in atto: ad es., l’uomo vien dall'uomo,  il musico vien dal musico, Sempre deve precedere un motore, e questo è già in atto. Abbiamo già visto ne’ ragionamenti intorno alla sostanza  che ogni cosa che diviene,  diviene qualcosa, da qualcosa, e per opera di qualcosa ch'è  della stessa specie di essa.   Per cui si vede anche l’impossibilità che uno divenga  costruttore se non ha mai costruito nulla, o citaredo senza  aver mai suonato la cetra: poichè chi vuol imparare a suonar  la cetra, suonandola, impara a suonarla. E similmente per  ogni arte. Di qui prese nascimento l’argomentazione sofistica che non c’è bisogno di possedere la scienza per fare ciò di  cui questa tratta ('), perchè, finchè uno impara la scienza,  non la possiede. Se non che, come di ciò che diviene qualcosa già dev’essere divenuta, e in generale di ciò che si  muove qualcosa deve già essersi mossa (questo punto fu illu  1950 a strato nei libri intorno al movimento) (*); così, chi “apprende    una cosa, deve necessariamente conoscerla già in parte.  Anche per questa via, dunque, risulta chiaro che l’atto, pur  da questo lato, del processo generativo e del tempo, è prima  della potenza.   Ma anche in riguardo alla sostanza l’atto è prima della  potenza: prima di tutto, perchè quel che pel divenire è ultimo, per la forma sostanziale è prima: per es., l’adulto è  anteriore al fanciullo, e l’uomo allo sperma: l’uno ha già  realizzata la specie che l’altro non ha ancora. In secondo  luogo, ogni cosa che diviene muove verso un principio e  un fine: lo scopo di una cosa ha valore di principio, e il  divenire è per il fine: questo fine è l’atto, ed è in grazia  di esso che si pone la potenza: chè l’animale non vede a  fin d’aver la vista, ma ha la vista per vedere. Similmente,  anche l’arte del costruire c’è per il costruire, e l’abito speculativo per lo speculare: e non è già che gli uomini speculino per aver l’abito speculativo: salvo il caso di coloro     Lett.: «cho chi non possiede la scienza può far ciò di cui questa tratta »:  per es., sonare la cetra. Cfr. EthA. Nic., II. 1 e 3. La scienza è in atto nel maestro  (col quale, in certo modo, fa tutt'uno lo scolaro). Nota il solito avvicinamento  della produzione naturale a quella umana (consapevole).    Phys., VI. 6. Anche nell’individuo, dunque, se si guarda al processo in  sò dell’attività (superando il dualismo tra l'esterno e l’interno), l’atto precede  la potenza (questa è già attività). Chè, come il sapere vien dal sapere (cfr. I.  9, 94; Anal. Post., I. 1. 71 a, 1), così l’attività non può venir che dall’attività stessa.  Inavvertitamente A. sorpassa la distinzione posta al $ 4 tra l'individuo e la spocie  empiricamente intesi (termini da lui stesso riconosciuti astratti altrove) e il Ssignificato meramente cronologico del tempo (in cui l’argomentazione, come ognun  sa, non può esser conchiudente): questo gli si fa equivalente al divenire sostanziale dell'individuo come suo svolgimento interno (conforme al concetto di quo  al 6 1). Cfr. note a 6, 7 e VII. 1, 4.  Le considerazioni che seguono, riguardano l'atto come principio finale e formale del processo stesso di svolgimento,  secondo il canone fondamentale di A., onde ciò che in esso è posteriore spiega  quel che vien prima. che lo fanno per esercitarsi, dei quali si può dire ch’ essi  non speculino veramente, tranne che in certo senso, 0 che  di speculare non sentono ancora veramente il bisogno .  Inoltre, la materia è in potenza perchè può pervenire alla  forma; ma quando sia in atto, allora è già formata. E così dicasi delle altre cose, anche di quelle di cui il fine è il movimento (?): onde, in quel modo che gl’ insegnanti pensano d’aver  raggiunto lo scopo quando han potuto mostrare lo scolaro  in azione, così fa anche la natura. Se così non avvenisse, sarebbe il caso dell’ Ermete di Pausone: anche la scienza, come  quella statua, non si saprebbe se è fuori o dentro (*). Poichè l’azione è fine, e l’atto è azione: per cui il nome stesso  di atto  si dice in rapporto all’azione, ed esprime la tendenza alla realizzazione finale. In alcuni casi, poi, il fine  ultimo è nell’uso stesso della potenza, per es., della vista è  il vedere, e niun’altra opera si attende dalla vista fuori di  questa. In altri casi, si realizza qualcos’altro oltre l’atto:  per es., per l’arte del costruire c’è la casa oltre l'atto del  costruire. Tuttavia non si può dire che l’atto sia meno il  fine della potenza in questo caso, e più in quello (*): poichè  l’atto del costruire si esercita nell’oggetto che vien costruito,  e il suo processo si realizza insieme con la casa. In quelle     Queste parole «quomodo sint interpretanda, equidem me non intelligere  confiteor ». Bonitz (p. 403); anche per il Ross (II, 262) sono « excessively difficult ».  Mi sono avvicinato al Lasson. Stesso: com'è il caso dell’apprendere (in coi non c’è una materia che  attende di passare nella forma, come per la casa); o del vedere (in cui il fine  ultimo è l’uso stesso della potenza).    « Questo Pausone, statuario, fece un'immagine di Ermete in una certa  pietra, e chi guardava vedeva nella pietra Ermete; ma non era chiaro se fosso  fuori della pietra o dentro di essa»: Aless. Ma Pausone era un pittore  (avrà Aless. pensato a III. 6, 9; V. 7, 7, ecc?). Secondo il Ross, si trattava di  un'illusione pittorica,  Se è (soltanto) fuori (il sapere: come un’abilità verbale);  oppure: se è (soltanto) dentro (come mera potenza).    azione: Eeyov; atto: evéoyera; realizzazione finale: èvtedéyera. Nel secondo caso pare che i! fine della potenza non sia l’atto (il costruire), ma il fatto (la casa). Ma non è così, dico A.: «quia ipsa actio est in  facto, ut aedificatio in eo quod aedificatur. Et aedificatio simul fit et habet esse  cum domo »: $. Tom. (1863). Gli altri (meno bene) intendono: Nel primo caso  (del vedere) l’atto è fine; nel secondo (del costruire) è fine più della mera potenza. cose, quindi, in cui vien prodotto qualcos'altro oltre l’uso  della potenza, in esse l’atto si mostra in ciò che vien fatto:  per es., il costruire nel costruito, il tessere nel tessuto, e  similmente per altre cose; e, in generale, l’atto del movimento è in ciò che vien mosso. Quando, invece, non c’è  qualche altra opera oltre l’atto, questo è tutto nel soggetto  stesso dell’attività: per es., il vedere nel veggente, il pen  1650 b sare nel pensante, la vita nell'anima, e però anche la feli  cità: la quale, infatti, è una vita d’una certa specie. Conchiudendo, è evidente che la sostanza e la specie sono atto.  E, secondo lo stesso discorso, è evidente che, per la sostanza,  l’atto è anteriore alla potenza; per il tempo poi, come abbiam detto, si concepisce sempre un atto avanti l’altro, fino  a quello del Motore primo ed eterno.   Ma l’atto è primo anche in un più alto senso: perchè  l'eterno è, per la sostanza, prima di ciò ch'è corrattibile,  e nulla di ciò ch’è eterno è in potenza soltanto. La ragione  è questa: ogni potenza è potenza di entrambi insieme i contradittorii, in quanto  mentre il non poter essere non può  esistere come proprietà di nulla  ogni potenza reale, invece,  può anche non esser in atto. Quindi, ciò che ha la potenza  di essere può essere e anche non essere. Ma ciò che può  non essere può darsi che non sia, e ciò che può darsi che  non sia è corruttibile, o in senso assoluto, o per quel che  di esso dicesi che può non essere: relativamente al luogo,  ad es., o alla quantità, o alle qualità. Corruttibile, in senso  a ssoluto, è una cosa, se corruttibile è la sua sostanza. Ora,  niuna delle cose assolutamente incorruttibili è, in quel senso,  un essere in potenza, sebbene nulla impedisca che tale sia  per qualche rispetto ('): per una qualità, ad cs., o per il  luogo. Le cose incorruttibili, dunque, sono attuali. E neppure  le cose necessarie posson esser in potenza, e nondimeno esse  sono originariamente (*) esistenti: chè, se queste non esistes   Gris pBPagrév = p#. xatà ovolav (nascere e perire); in senso relativo  (xatà 0), ciò che muta di quantità, di qualità o di luogo. Ofr. VIII. 1, 8 (e nota).    ne@bta: è probabile che queste cose necessarie siano i principii primi in  senso logico e insieme réale. sero, nulla esisterebbe. E se c’è un movimento che sia eterno,  neppur esso è in potenza; e se esiste un essere eternamente    * mosso, non è possibile che sia mosso in potenza, salvo che non ci si riferisca a un punto di partenza o di arrivo ('):  chè per questa specie di movimento può bene ammettersi  che sia provvisto d’una materia. Per questa ragione è sempre  in attività il Sole, e gli Astri, e il Cielo tutto quanto, e non  c’è da temere che mai si fermino, come han paura i Fisici (*): chè il loro operare non li stanca. E non li stanca  perchè il loro movimento non riguarda, come quello delle  cose corruttibili, la possibilità dell’una o dell’altra parte della  contradizione (*), che renderebbe faticosa la continuità del  movimento. Causa di tal fatica negli esseri corruttibili è  l'essere materiale, e potenziale, non attuale, della sostanza.  Pure, anche le cose mutevoli, come la terra e il fuoco, si  sforzano d’imitare quelle incorruttibili: anch’esse, infatti,  hanno in sè e per sè il movimento (‘), onde sono in continua  attività. Ma le altre potenze, di cui s’è ragionato, son capaci di contradizione in quanto, quel che ha potenza di muover  così, può muovere anche non così: quelle, s'intende che agiscono secondo ragione. Le potenze irrazionali, invece, son  capaci di contradizione solo in quanto possono esser presenti  o assenti (°).     « Quia licet non sit in potentia ad moveri simpliciter, est tamen in potentia ad hoc vel ad illud ubi»: S. Tom. Per la materia meramente  tori, v. n. cit. dianzi a VIII. 1, 8.    Sembra alluda specialmente ad Empedocle: cfr. De Caelo. L'essere e il non-essere, tra i quali ha luogo il nascere-perire (mutamento    i sostanziale).     «Il movimento è una specie di vita in tutti gli esseri costituiti naturalmente » (Plys., VIII. 1.250 b, 14). Ein De Gen. et Corr., II. 10. 337 a, 2: « Anche le  altre cose, quante si mutano le une nelle altre, per es. i corpi semplici, imitano il  movimento di traslazione ;circolare ». Ovvero, si accenna alla continuità del movimento (spaziale) degli elementi in generale (Aless., 593, 12); 0 a quello in giù  della texra, in su del fuoco (v. Ross, a q. l.).   (5) Ciò ch'è salubre produce sempre e soltanto la salute, ma può esserci, e  anche non esserci (e in questo caso non produrla). Cfr. cap. 2,4 e 5, 4-5. La possibilità logica (contraddizione) e quella reale (contrarietà) si alternano in questo  paragrafo, come nel 21. Per entrambi i p. d. v. si distinguono queste altre po«onze dalle precedenti (eterne). Sia pure, dunque, che esistano certe nature o sostanze 28  del genere di quelle che sostengono coloro che dei concetti  fanno altrettante Idee; ma chi fa della scienza esisterà con   1061 » maggior ragione della scienza in sè, e ciò che si muove  molto più che l’idea del movimento: poichè questi esseri  sono a maggior titolo attività, e quelle idee, invece, sono  meramente loro potenze.   Che, dunque, l’atto è prima della potenza e di ogni prin- 29  cipio di mutamento, è manifesto.Che poi, in confronto alla potenza del bene l’atto sia mi- 1  gliore e più degno di onore, si vedrà da quanto segue. Tutto  ciò che noi diciamo esser in potenza, ha il potere di realizzare l’uno e l’altro contrario ugualmente: quel che diciamo,  ad es., poter esser sano, è lo stesso che può anche esser malato, ed ha la potenza delle due cose insieme: poichè la potenza di esser sano è la stessa di quella di esser malato,  così come quella di esser in riposo o in movimento, di costruire o di abbattere, di esser costruito o abbattuto. Ma  se il potere dei contrari si trova ad esser insieme, è impossibile, poi, che questi esistano insieme, ed è impossibile che  sì trovi insieme la loro attualità, per es., che uno sia sano  e malato insieme. Di qui vien la necessità che soltanto uno  dei contrari realizzi il bene, laddove la potenza è di entrambi  similmente, o di nessuno dei due. L’atto è, dunque, migliore. Che se si tratta del male, la compiutezza dell’atto 2  dovrà, necessariamente, esser peggiore della potenza: chè  questa è tanto al bene quanto al male, medesimamente (*).     L'atto, per sè, è perfezione, sempre, anche se di cose cattive: cfr. V.  16. 2. Qui, del resto, si parla di perfezione naturale, non morale. Cfr. l’&getà  quow in Eth. Nic., II. 6. 1106 a, 15: «Ogni virtù perfeziona il ben condursi di  ciò di cul è virtù e rende pregevole la sua operazione: per es., la virtù dell’occhio fa l'occhio valente e valente l'operazione sua; parimenti la virtù del È evidente, quindi, che il male non esiste fuori delle cose  quaggiù, poichè esso esiste, per natura, posteriormente alla  potenza. Ed anche questo è evidente: che ne’ principii primi  e negli esseri eterni non han luogo nè il male, nè mancamento, nè corruzione (anche la corruzione è una specie di  male).   Anche i teoremi geometrici si trovano per mezzo dell’attività, poichè si trovano facendo delle divisioni (‘). Se queste  fossero già eseguite, quelli sarebbero evidenti. Così, sono  soltanto in potenza. Ad es.: perchè gli angoli del triangolo  fan due retti? Si sa che gli angoli in ogni punto d’una linea  sono uguali a due retti: se, dunque, fosse già tirata la parallela a un lato (?), la cosa sarebbe chiara al primo colpo d’occhio. Perchè l’angolo nel semicerchio è sempre retto? Per  questo che, quando dei tre segmenti uguali, di cui due formano la base, si è elevato il terzo perpendicolare dal centro  al vertice, chi già sa che la somma degli angoli è di due  retti, vede subito chiaro (5).    cavallo fa il cavallo valente e buono al corso e a portare il cavaliere e a sostenere l’impeto dei nemici ». Non opportuno, quindi, il rilievo del Bonitz (p. 407):  «iudicium morale de bono et mali immisceri falso iis rebus, a quibus illud est  alienum ». Nò è erroneo il ragionamento che segue, come pensano il B. e il  Ross (II, 268), se si tien presente il passaggio, abituale in A., alla posizione 0ggettivistica, onde gli atti risultan graduati in corrispondenza delle cose stesse  e delle loro potenze (assolutamente buone, come quelle incorruttibili; capaci di  esser buone o cattive, o sempre cattive, come quelle corruttibili). E tà redypata  (ch'io ho tradotto: «le cose di quaggiù ») non oppongono le cose cattive in generale all'Idea del male (come Aless. e i moderni intendono): chè il discorso  varrebbe anche per l’Idea del Bene; ma le cose corruttibili alle incorruttibili.    Srargovvteg: ch'è operazione affine all'&varterv (benchè qui prevalga il  senso costruttivo), in cui consiste l’attività della è.&vora. V. passo di Erk. Nie.,  citata in nota a VII. 7, 7. E ric. il metodo dieretico di Platone.    Dall'estremo della base, e prolungando questa (come nella nota dimostrazione di Euclide).    Vede subito chiaro che i due triangoli uguali, in cui è stato scomposto  quello inscritto nel semicerchio, sono rettangoli isosceli, sì che l’angolo intero  alla circonferenza risulta di due metà di un retto. A. sceglie il caso più evidente  (perchè gl’isosceli son qui rettangoli); ma, com'è noto, il metodo di dimostrazione è lo stesso anche per gli altri casi (congiungendo il centro del cerchio col  vertice del triangolo si ottengono pur sempre due isosceli, con due retti al centro,  e due coppie di angoli uguali).  Dei tre segmenti uguali due formano il diametro,  il terzo è il raggio perpendicolare alzato dal centro.    300 3 MBTAFISICA    In conchiusione, è manifesto, che ciò ch’è in potenza noi 6  veniamo a scoprirlo riportandolo (') all’atto. E la ragione di  ciò è che intendere è attualizzare. Onde dall’atto vien la  potenza. E perciò, anche, le cose le conosce chi le fa. L’atto  è posteriore alla potenza nel divenire soltanto dell’ individuo  numericamente considerato.    CapitoLO X (?).    Dell’ essere e non-essere si parla o riferendosi alle figure 1  1051 b delle categorie, ovvero alla distinzione di potenza e atto per  ogni cosa che in esse si predica, e pel suo contrario (*); 0,  anche, in quanto vero e falso nel lor più proprio significato.   In quest’ultimo senso l’essere è considerato nelle cose in 2  quanto può essere composto o diviso. Per la qual cosa è nel  vero colui che pensa esser diviso ciò ch’è diviso, e composto  ciò ch’è composto; è nel falso, invece, chi pensa altrimenti   di come le cose stanno. Ora, si chiede: Esiste o non esiste, 3 O portandolo? Il Ross preferisce ky6peva ad àvaysueva. Ma, comunque si  preferisca, il problema è lo stesso, e involge tutto il pensiero aristotelico in un  nodo che può, giustamente, sembrare insolubile. La verità del teorema, come  ogni verità, vien da noi «scoperta » in quanto già c’è. Ed è in atto, in sè, sebbene soltanto in potenza per noi in quanto la dobbiamo ancora scoprire; e la  scopriamo riconducendola 8a quell’atto in cui il nostro intenderla coincide con  l'esser suo stesso: si che la dualità, in questo punto, cessa, e noi possiamo anche  dire che l’abbiamo conosciuta perchò l'abbiamo prodotta (sa chi fa).  Intendere  è attualizzare: vénow  tveoyera (meglio, col Ross: Î vénars èvée.: altrimenti,  bisognerebbe forse intendere che l’atto dell'oggetto è un atto del vos stesso:  il che è troppo vero per esser asserito, così semplicemente, da A. qui).  Per  l'individuo numericamente considerato, v. capitolo precedente, 4.    È dubbio che questo capitolo sia stato scritto originariamente per esser posto  a questo punto. I richiami a V. 7, 4-7e a VI. 2, 1-3 e 4,4 non sono decisivi su ciò.  Cfr. JAEGER (Entst., 49; Arist.). Invero, il rapporto tra il pensiero discorsivo  e la verità reale, tra l'unità del ne e l'atto di apprenderlo, non è questione  estranea all'argomento dei libri VII (cfr. Sommario per capp. 4 e 10), VIII  (capp. 3 e 6), IX (4, 3 e capp. 8 e 9). Dianzi s'è pur trattato di quelle sostanze  semplici ed eterne delle quali si ripiglia qui a parlare. Ma è il tono che, soprattutto, non si accorda con quello. complessivo della ricerca precedente. Il non-essere di ogni cosa in ogni categoria.  Nel lor più proprio significato: il testo vuole forse « nel suo più proprio 8. », riferito all'essere. Ma cfr. VI.  4, 4; nè sarebbe conforme al modo di pensare di A., sembra.    LIBRO NONO 301    quel che noi intendiamo per vero o per falso? Bisogna bene  che sappiamo quel che diciamo.   Considera, infatti, che, non perchè noi ti reputiamo bianco,  tu sei bianco davvero; ma, all'incontro, perchè tu sei bianco,  pensiamo il vero noi che ti diciamo bianco. Orbene, l'essere  di alcune cose è sempre unito e non può mai venir diviso,  in altre invece è sempre diviso e non può mai congiungersi,  in altre infine può trovarsi ne’ due modi opposti (‘). Se, dunque, l’essere di una cosa consiste nella composizione sì da  formare un’unità, e il suo non-essere nella divisione sì da  formare una molteplicità, nelle cose che possono trovarsi in  entrambi i modi la medesima affermazione può esser vera  e falsa, potendo ben avvenire che una volta si sia nel vero,  e un’altra nel falso. Invece, nelle cose che non possono  esser altrimenti di quel che sono, non avviene che una volta  si sia nel vero e un’altra nel falso, ma si è sempre o nel  vero o nel falso.   Ma quando l’essere di una cosa è semplice (?), in che  consiste il suo essere o non essere, e come di essa si può  ‘dire il vero o il falso? Chè non è già componibile o scomponibile, sì che esista quando c’è la composizione e non  esista quando c’è la divisione (come è il caso del legno di  color bianco, o della diagonale che non è commepnsurabile).  Qui il vero e il falso non può aver luogo nello stesso modo  che nelle cose dette prima (*), e, come il vero, così anche     Es: il triangolo e l’uguaglianza della somma degli angoli a due retti;  la diagonale e la sua commensurabilità al lato del quadrato; Socrate e il suo  camminare. V. per quel che segue, note a V. 29 e VI. 4: in questo secondo venne  accentuata sul primo la soggettività della sintesi-dieresi, in cui consiste il giudizio affermativo o negativo, e il vero o falso; qui si ricerca, invece, con un  passo ulteriore sul secondo, la corrispondenza oggettiva a quel principio logicosoggettivo.    Si potrebbe intendere delle pure essenze in generale, in sè e per sè, 6  delle categorie (cfr. VIII. 6, 7-8), e dei principii primi nel senso gnoseologico; ma anche, e forse meglio, in senso esietenziale, degli esseri immateriali. Comprese (come l'esempio della diagonale dimostra) quelle che sono sempre    vere o false nel giudizio. Qui vero == intendere (e il suo oggetto); falso = non  intendere, ignorare.    1052 a    302 METAFISICA    l'essere non può avere qui lo stesso significato che là. In  queste cose è possibile la verità e l'errore soltanto nel senso  che coglierle (') è già enunciarne la verità (enunciare non è  lo stesso che affermare), non coglierle vuol dire ignorarle.  Sbagliarsi sull'essenza di una cosa non è possibile tranne  che per accidente, e così pure non ci si può sbagliare per  quelle sostanze che non sono composte, perchè sono tutte in  atto, e non in potenza: chè, altrimenti, si genererebbero e  perirebbero, laddove l’essere che è in sè e per sè, non ricevendo il suo essere da altro, non nasce e non muore. In  conchiusione, quando l’essere delle cose è ciò che è, in atto,  su esso non è possibile ingannarsi: si può soltanto intendere  o non intendere. Tuttavia, si può chiedere ciò che esse sono,  se l’essenza loro è tale, o no.   Per l’essere nel senso del vero e il non essere in quello  del falso, si ha, dunque, nell’un caso, il vero se c’è una  composizione, il falso se questa non c’è; nell’altro caso, se  il suo essere è il suo stesso esser vero, e se non è così, neppure è (*). Chè la verità sua consiste nell’intenderla, e il  falso o l’inganno non ha luogo. Ci può essere ignoranza, ma  non come una cecità, chè, allora, vorrebbe dire che uno non  ha addirittura la facoltà d’intendere.     &yeîv, toccare. Cfr. XII. 7. 1072 b, 21 ($ 7). È l’apprensione immediata del  vero e reale: così anche l'atto dell’alo&nors (cfr. IV. 5, 19). E cfr. anche De An.,  ITI. 6. 430 b, 26-30: dove pure si accenna alla pdow come distinta dalla xatapagws;  cfr. De interpr., 6. 17a, 25: « Affermare è enunciare qualcosa di qualcosa ». Infatti, nel paragrafo seguente, si concede di chiedere ciò che esse sono.  La distinzione dei termini (del discorso in generale e di quello che ha valore propriamente logico) non è mantenuta altrove.  Chi chiede, non sa nel senso che  non gi rende conto ancora, e però può sbagliare per accidente.    Passo molto tormentato dagl'interpreti. Mi sono ispirato a S. Tom. (1915):  «Alio vero modo in rebus simplicibus verum est, si id quod est vere eng, i. e.  quod est ipsum quod quid est, i. e. substantia rei simplex, sic est sicut intelligitur; si vero non est ita sicut intelligitur, non est verum (in intellectu)». Toglierei queste ultime parole. In A., inoltre, l'equivalenza della verità del pensiero all'essere dell’oggetto è posta più immediatamente, anzi sottintesa più che  espressa (di qui una causa dell'oscurità del passo, il quale, in sostanza, sembra  voler affermare che per gli esseri semplici, così come per la véno, esiste la  verità, non l’errore: vero e falso, riguardo a essi, equivale ad esistere o non  esistere). Anche in riguardo agli enti immobili, finchè uno li considera tali, non è possibile, evidentemente, cadere in errore  quanto al tempo. Mi spiego: a meno che uno non pensi  che la natura del triangolo possa mutare, non potrà pensare che una volta la somma de’ suoi angoli è uguale a due  retti, e un’altra no (altrimenti, la sua natura mauterebbe).  Invece, può darsi che nello stesso genere reputi che un oggetto sia in un modo e un altro in un altro: ad es., che dei  numeri pari nessuno sia primo, ovvero qualcuno sì e altri  no (‘). Ma quando si tratta di un unico oggetto, questo non  è mai possibile, perchè non si potrà già credere che sia ora  in un modo e ora in un altro; ma, riguardo a esso, si sarà  nella verità o nell’errore nel senso che esso rimane eternamente uguale.     Ovvero, che il due sia primo, gli altri no (giustamente, se dei pari; non  cosi, se dei numeri in generale). Se l’oggetto è unico, per es. un tal numero,  non il numero in generale, neppure tale errore è possibile: il giudizio nostro  (vero o falso) implica ch'esso è sempre così. Dell’errore intorno al numero parla  anche il Teeteto Che dell’Uno si parla in molti modi, si disse già (') discorrendo dei molteplici significati di alcuni termini. Ma, pur  dicendosi in vari modi, questi si riducono  per le cose che  si dicono une, non per accidente, ma primariamente e per  Se stesse  a quattro capitali.   Uno dicesi, infatti, il continuo, o in generale, o score  tutto quel ch’è tale per natura, e non per contatto o per  legame esteriore; e questo tanto più e più propriamente è  uno, se sia di cose il cui movimento è meno divisibile e  più semplice (?).   Inoltre, uno, e a maggior diritto, è l’intiero (?), e ciò che  ha qualche figura e forma: specialmente se qualcosa sia tale     V. lib. V. 6: qui si tralasciano i modi accidentali; e quelli essenziali  vengon divisi in quattro corrispondenti, nell’ insieme, a quelli del lib. V d’individuo e l’universale sono una distinzione dell'unità dell'atto anche colà affermata,  nel $ 10, ma qui posta a fondamento, oltre che per il pensiero, anche per le cose).   Invece, prende il priino posto qui la trattazione colà brevemente accennata (13-15)  del concetto dell’unità in sè e per sò.    Per il rapporto tra i due concetti, di continuità sostanziale e unità del  movimento, cfr. nota a V. 6, 5.    All'interezza si accennò anche in V. 6, 12: qui ha maggior rilievo, e determina l'unità del movimento non soltanto in rapporto al tempo, ma anche allo  spazio (tale è, si direbbe, l’atto vitale: f 82 toù èveoyera xs toriv: Eth. Niec.,  X. 4. 1175 a, 12, e cfr. ivi, cap. 4, per il piacere, che nell’atto è sempre intero  e perfetto, e in questo senso non è della specie di movimento che si produce  attraverso le varie parti dello spazio e del tempo). per natura, e non per forza (come quel ch'è unito con la  colla, con chiodi o corda), ma abbia in se stessa la causa  della sua continuità. E tale è in quanto il suo movimento  è unico e indivisibile nello spazio e nel tempo: così che è  evidente che, se una cosa ha per natura il principio più eccellente di quel movimento ch’è primo (voglio dire, dei movimenti spaziali, quello circolare) ('), essa è, tra le cose estese,  una per eccellenza.   Queste cose, dunque, sono une così, o per continuità o  per interezza. Altre, quando uno sia il concetto. Tali sono  quelle di cui unica è l’intellezione; e tali, quelle che s’intendono con un atto indivisibile. E questo è indivisibile se  sia di ciò ch’è indivisibile per la specie o pel numero. Indivisibile numericamente è l’individuu; per la specie, ciò  ch’è tale per la conoscenza e per il sapere: sì che primariamente uno sarà quel ch’è causa dell'unità delle sostanze (?).   Si dice, dunque, l’uno in tutti questi sensi: ciò ch’è continuo per natura, l’intero, l'individuo e l’universale. E l’uno  vale per tutte queste cose, in quanto nelle une è indivisibile   1058 b il movimento, nelle altre l’intellezinne o il concetto.   Ma si ponga mente di non prendere come la stessa questione questa: quali sono le cose alle quali si attribuisce  unità; e l’altra: qual’è l'essenza propria dell’uno e il suo  concetto. L’uno, infatti, si dice in tutti i modi accennati, e  ogni cosa, a cui convenga qualcuno di questi modi, è una.     Dei movimenti spaziali quello circolare è perfetto, per la semplicità (indivisibilità) e continuità: tale, quello eterno del cielo: come si dimostra nel  cap. 8 del lib. VIII della Fisica (nel cap. 7 si era dimostrata la superiorità del  puro movimento spaziale, in generale, alle altre forme di movimento proprie delle  cose che si generano e mutano di quantità e qualità: cfr. qui VIII. 1,8; IX. 8, 25;  XII. 6,2 7,4).  Cose estese: lett. grandezza (peyedog: ciò che è o ha grandezza).    El principio dell'unità nel sinolo (sostanza) è la forma, la pura essenza  nel pensiero discorsivo, l'atto in sè nella realtà in generate, e la sua attualità  nell'individualità concreta.  Nota lo scindersi dell’atto della vénows, nel brusco  passaggio alle cose, nelle due categorie supreme del pensiero discorsivo: l’ individuo e l’universale (anzi, in quelle della conoscenza in generale: il dato della  percezione e quello, il concetto, della divora... L'oscillazione tra questi punti di  vieta spiega anche il passaggio tra i termini di concetto, specie, universale, che  ora coincidono e ora non coincidono nel pensiero aristotelico. Ma l'essenza dell’uno si dirà, talora, secondo qualcuno di  essi; tal’alra, secondo altro che è anche più vicino al nome,  e contiene quelli in potenza (').   La cosa sta come per elemento o causa: altro è se uno  debba determinare a quali cose si attribuisce, altro se debba  dare la detinizione del nome. Poichè come elemento si può  addurre il fuoco (e certamente l’indefinito per se stesso, 0  altro di questa specie, può essere un elemento) , ma anche  non addurlo: chè non è la stessa cosa esser fuoco ed esser  elemento: il fuoco è elemento in quanto è una cosa particolare, esistente in natura; mentre il nome elemento significa che questo appartiene al fuoco perchè c’è qualcosa di  cui esso è la parte costitutiva e originaria. Così dicasi anche  della causa e dell’uno, e di tutti gli altri termini somiglianti.   Per ciò, anche, l’essenza dell’uno è di esser indivisibile,  come quello che è un determinato ed ha una propria esistenza separata per lo spazio o per la specie o per il pensiero; o, anche, di esser un intero indivisibile (*); ma, soprattutto, di essere la prima misura di ogni genere, e in  primo luogo del genere della quantità: chè di qui si estese  agli altri generi. Passo un po' oscuro. Meglio di tutti, mi sembra, S. Tom.: « Hoc  ipsum quod est unum, quandoque quidem accipitur secundum quod inest alicui  dietorum modorum, puta ut dicam quod unum secundum quod est continuum,  unum est. Et similiter de aliis. Quandoque autem hoc ipeum quod est unum,  attribuitur ei quod est magis propinquum naturae unius, sicut indivisibili, quod  tamen secundum se potestate continet praedictos modos: quia indivisibile secundum motum, et continuum et totum; indivisibile autem secundum rationem,  est singulare et universale ».,   Qui si parla, infatti, del concetto puro dell’uno, in sè e per sè, non in rapporto alle cose, sebbene si dica che possa esser concepito anche secondo i modi  in cui l’uno si predica delle cose (ossia come essenza di questi: così intendo il  dativo della 1. 6, non, come il Bonitz o il Ross, quale termine di appartenenza  predicativa).  Prù vicino al nome, ossia al concetto puro (nota l'oscillazione tra  il punto di vista logico puro e quello verbale), è il concetto di misura.    L'indefinito: l'&xergov di Anassimandro (non il fuoco, s'intende).    Un intero indivisibile: par raccogliere l’unità formale e materiale, distinta prima in indivisibilità per lo spazio, per la specie o per il pensiero, analogamente al $ 11 di lib. V. 6. Il concetto di misura, dunque, vuol essere un  principio conoscitivo per ogni genere di cose, sebbene si applichi più comunemente al genere della quantità. Poichè misura è quella per cui si conosce la quantità; e  la quantità, in quanto tale, si conosce o per mezzo del numero  o dell'uno: ma ogni numero si conosce per mezzo dell’uno.  Per cui ogni quantità, in quanto tale, si conosce con l’uno;  e ciò per cui primieramente le quantità son conosciute è l’uno  in sè e per sè. L'uno, dunque, è il principio del numero in  quanto numero. Di qui anche per gli altri casi dicesi mi.  sura ciò per cui primieramente conosciamo ciascuna cosa,  e misura di ogni cosa è l’uno per la lunghezza, per la larghezza, per la profondità, per il peso, per la velocità. (Peso  e velocità, potendo ciascuno avere due significati, si usano  in comune per i contrari: pesante dicesi ciò che ha un qualsiasi grado di gravità e ciò che ne ha in eccesso, e veloce  ciò che ba un qualsiasi grado di movimento e ciò che ne  ha in eccesso: poichè anche ciò ch’è lento ha una certa velocità, e ciò ch’è leggero una certa pesantezza).   In tutti questi, dunque, la misura principale è qualcosa  d’uno e senza parti: anche nelle linee si usa come indivisibile  quella d’un piede. In ogni caso, infatti, si cerca per misura  qualcosa d’uno e indivisibile, e questo è ciò ch’è semplice  o per qualità o per quantità. Ora, dove sembra non esserci  nulla da togliere o aggiungere, ivi la misura è esatta: perciò    1053 a quella del numero è la più esatta, perchè l’unità si pone    come indivisibile per ogni rispetto, e negli altri casi non si  fa che imitare questa specie di misura. Di uno stadio, infatti,  e di un talento, e di ciò che in generale è più grande, ci  sfugge se qualcosa vien aggiunta o tolta, più facilmente che  per una quantità minore. Laonde quella prima, a cui niente  di percepibile può esser aggiunto o tolto, quella tutti prendono per misura: per i liquidi come per i solidi, per il peso  come per la grandezza. E allora pensano di conoscere la  quantità di una cosa, quando la conoscono per mezzo di  quella misura.   E anche il movimento si misura con quello semplice e  ch'è più veloce: chè questo occupa un tempo minimo. Ond’è  che in astronomia questa è l’unità che serve di principio e  misura (poichè si suppone che il movimento del cielo sia uniforme e il più veloce, e in rapporto a questo si giudicano  gli altri). E in musica, il diesis, perchè è l'intervallo minimo; e nella parola, la lettera. E in tutti questi casi c’è,  così, un qualcosa di uno: non come se l’uno sia qualcosa di  comune (‘), ma come s'è spiegato.   Ma non in ogni caso la misura è una numericamente;  talora è più di una: i diesis, ad es., son due (non per l’orecchio, ma per il computo) (?); e i suoni articolati, con cui misuriamo le parole, son più di uno; e due misure hanno la    ‘diagonale e il lato, e tutte le grandezze.    Così, dunque, l’uno è la misura di tutte le cose, perchè  noi conosciamo ciò di cui si compone la sostanza dividendola o secondo la quantità o secondo la specie. L’uno è perciò  indivisibile, perchè in ogni cosa ciò ch’è primo è indivisibile.  Ma non nello stesso modo ogni uno è indivisibile: per es.,  il piede e l’unità, questa è indivisibile per ogni rispetto,  quello vuol esser tale rispetto alla sensazione, come 8’è  detto: chè ogni continuo è, senza dubbio, divisibile.   Sempre, poi, la misura è dello stesso genere: delle grandezze, una grandezza; e in particolare: della lunghezza una  lunghezza, della larghezza una larghezza, dei suoni articolati un suono articolato, del peso un peso, delle unità una  unità (così bisogna intendere qui: non che dei numeri la  misura sia un numero: si dovrebbe dir così, se il caso fosse  simile; ma che non sia simile si vede da questo, che si farebbe misura delle unità, non l’unità, ma le unità: chè il  numero è molte unità).   Anche la scienza e la sensazione diciamo che sono misura delle cose, per questo, che con esse conosciamo qualcosa: sebbene siano esse misurate, piuttosto che esse misu   Punta polemica contro l’Uno platonico.    Il Ross riferisce la distinzione di Aristosseno, scolaro di A., del diesis come  un quarto e come un terzo di tono.  I suoni articolati: vocali e consonanti.   Due misure hanno, ecc. Oscuro. Si può pensare alla incommensurabilità della  diagonale al lato, sì che esigano unità di misura diverse; ed alla necessità di    almeno due dati per la misura delle superfici, dei solidi, ecc. Ma il testo, questo,  non lo dice, rare. Accade a noi come se un altro ci misurasse e noi conoscessimo quanto siam grandi per aver egli applicato il  cubito su noi per tutta la nostra altezza. Protagora dice che  1023 b l’uomo è misura di tutte le cose, intendendo di chi sa e di  chi sente: e questi, perchè hanno l’uno la sensazione, l’altro  il sapere, che noi pur diciamo esser misure de’ loro oggetti.  Sembra voglia dire qualcosa di profondo: invece, non ne  dice nulla (').  Che, dunque, l’essenza dell’uno, se si deve definire il si- 16  gnificato del termine, consiste soprattutto nell’esser una de* terminata misura, e in primo luogo della quantità, in secondo  della qualità,  è manifesto. E tale sarà se sia indivisibile,  in un caso, per la quantità, nell’altro per la qualità; sì che  l’uno è indivisibile, o assolutamente, o in quauto uno. Già nella trattazione dei Problemi incontrammo la que- 1  stione, che qui convien riprendere, della natura sostanziale (?)  dell’uno: che cosa esso è, e come si deve di esso giudicare.  E cioè, come se l’unità stessa sia una determinata sostanza  (al modo dei Pitagorici prima, e di Platone poi); o se non  piuttosto abbia qualche natura a sostrato, e però si debba  parlare di esso più intelligibilmente, e piuttosto come i Fisiolugi, dei quali chi dice che l’uno è l’amicizia, chi Varia,  chi l’indefinito.     V. nel lib. IV la polemica contro il Protagorismo: là come qui, A. respiage  decisamente il soggettivismo della conoscenza (chi 8a, chi sente: per il significato  preciso di questo soggettivismo, v. nota al passo simibe in V. 15, 8). Sensazione e  sapere sono misure per quanto contengono di realtà e verità oggettiva. È realismo? (Cfr. Rolfes, a q. 1.: « A. è realista, non idealista. Egli si oppone a JIegel,  che fa il concetto misura e principio delle cose, ecc. »). Sì, ma in senso affine  all’idealismo del suo maestro.   (9) Lett. «la natura e la sostanza». Ma quos vale talvolla la sostanza in  generale (V. 4, 9), e odola è l'essere nella categoria principale.  Trattazione det  Problemi: lib. III, 4, 31-42. Per i Pitagorici e Platone: lib. I. 6, 9-10. I Fisiologi  ricordati sono Empedocle, Anassimene, Anassimandro.  Se nessuno degli universali può essere sostanza, come  8’è detto dove parlammo (!) della sostanza e dell’essere; €  se l’essere stesso non può essere sostanza nel senso di qualcosa che sia uno fuor del molteplice (chè esso è un termine  comune), ma è soltanto un predicato; è chiaro che neppure  l’unità è sostanza: l’essere e l’uno, infatti, sono di tutti i  predicati i più universali. Sì che neppure i generi sono determinate nature e sostanze separabili dalle altre cose; nè  l’unità può esser genere (?), per le stesse ragioni per le quali  non sono genere nè l’essere nè la sostanza.   Inoltre, bisogna che si applichi a tutte le categorie ugualmente. L’essere e l’uno hanno gli stessi vari significati: sì  che, come per le qualità l’uno è qualcosa di determinato e  d’una certa uatura, e così pure per le quantità,  è chiaro  che bisogna anche domandarsi per tutti i casi che cosa è  l’uno (così come che cosa è l’essere), e che non basta dire  che questa è la sua natura, di esser uno. Non è dubbio:  nei colori l’unità è un colore, poniamo il bianco, e però da  questo e dal nero si veggono generarsi gli altri (*): il nero  è privazione del bianco, così come della luce l’oscurità (questa  è la privazione della luce). Talchè, se le cose fossero colori,  esse formerebbero, sì, un molteplice , ma determinato, e  appunto, evidentemente, di colori; e l’unità sarebbe un uno  determinato: poniamo, il bianco. E similmente, se le cose  fossero note, ci sarebbe un numero, ma di diesis, e non sarebbe già numero la loro sostanza; e l’unità sarebbe qualcosa, di cui Ja sostanza sarebbe non di esser unità, ma diesis.  E similmente dei suoni articolati: le cose sarebbero tante  lettere, e l’uno sarebbe una lettera, una vocale. Se fossero  figure rettilinee, ci sarebbe una molteplicità di figure, e     Lib. VII. 13.  |  Cfr. lib. IIT. 3, 7: qui, genere è g. reale; invece, nella frase precedente,  î generi sono universali.    Alla 1. 30 ho accettato l’elca (invece di el) proposto dal Ross.    Lett. «un numero », come dopo. Ma ho tradotto cosi per chiarire l’equi  valenza dei termini qui. (Così come ho usato talora unità invece di uno, quando  questo equivale all'astratto). l'uno sarebbe il triangolo. E il discorso è lo stesso per gli  altri generi. In conchiusione, come, allorchè si tratta di affezioni (di qualità, di quantità, o di movimento) delle cose, c’è  un molteplice e un uno che è, in tutti i casi, un molteplice  determinato e un determinato uno, di cui la sostanza non è  quella di esser uno;  nello stesso modo, necessariamente,  dev’essere per le sostanze: perchè la questione è la stessa  per tutti i casi. Che, dunque, l’unità sia in ogni genere una  natura determinata, e che in niun caso la natura di una cosa  sia l’uno per se stesso, è manifesto: ma, come nei colori  l’unità da cercare è quella che è un colore, così anche nella  sostanza l’unità è quella ch’è sostanza.   Che, poi, l’uno significhi in certo modo (') la stessa cosa  che l’essere, è chiaro, in primo luogo, dal fatto che s’accompagna a esso per altrettante categorie, e non è compreso in  nessuna (non, poniamo, in quella dell’essenza, nè in quella  della qualità), ma ci sta così come l’essere; in secondo luogo,  perchè con « uno-uomo » non vien predicato nulla di diverso  che con « uomo », nello stesso modo che l’essere non è nulla  fuori dell'essenza, della qualità o della quantità; in fine,  perchè esser uno vale esser individuo.    CapitoLo III    L’uno e il molteplice si oppongono in molti modi, dei  quali uno è come quello dell’indivisibile al divisibile: molteplice si dice qualcosa s’è divisa o divisibile, una s’è indivisibile o non divisa. Ora, poichè l'opposizione è di quattro  specie, una delle quali si dice secondo privazione, qui  avremo quella di contrarietà, non quella di contraddizione  nè di termini relativi (*). E l’uno si denomina e si chiarisce     Chè l’unità può indicare, più propriamente, la misura, come s’è visto  dianzi.  « Uno-uomo »: cfr. IV. 2, bd.    Cfr. V. 10, 1. Intendi: una specie di opposizione è quella in cui si guarda  alla privazione: non a quella opposta all'EE, ma a quella propria della contra-dal suo contrario: dal divisibile, l’indivisibile; e la ragione  è che il molteplice e divisibile si percepisce meglio dell’ indivisibile: per cui il molteplice è prima dell’indivisibile nel  concetto, a cagione della percezione.   All’uno appartiene, come descrivemmo anche nella Distinzione dei contrari ("), lo stesso, il simile, l’uguale; al molteplice, il diverso, il dissimile, il disuguale. Lo stesso (?) si  dice in molti modi: in un modo si dice talora badando al  numero; in un altro, se la cosa è una e per il concetto e  per il numero: poniamo, tu sei una cosa sola con te stesso  e per la specie e per la materia; in fine, se il concetto che  riguarda la sostanza prima (?) sia unico: per es., le linee  rette uguali sono le stesse, e così i quadrilateri equivalenti  e con angoli uguali, benchè sian molti: chè in essi l’uguaglianza vale identità.  Simili son le cose se, non essendo  assolutamente le stesse, nè senza differenze per la sostanza  che fa loro da sostrato, siano pur le stesse per la specie:  per es., il quadrato maggiore è simile al minore, e le linee  rette disuguali sono simili: esse sono simili, non assolutamente le stesse. Altre cose sono simili, se, avendo la stessa  specie, ed essendo cose in cui si dà il più e il meno, non  abbiano in questo differenza. Altre cose, se hanno la stessa  affezione, che sia la medesima per la specie, per es. la bianchezza, ma in grado maggiore o minore, si dicono simili  perchè identica è la loro specie. Altre si dicon tali, se di  qualità che son le stesse ne hanno in numero maggiore che  di diverse, o assolutamente, o quelle più in vista: per es. lo    rietà (ch’è privazione totale). Par come manchi qualcosa nel testo.  Il termine  negativo, qui, è l’uno (nell’esperienza ci è dato il molteplice, non il meramente uno).    Vedi IV. 2, 6. All'uno appartiene lo stesso per la sostanza, il simile per la  qualità, l'uguale per la quantità.    Cfr. V. 9. L'identità per il numero Aless. (615, 23) l’intende come l’unità  accidentale; ma nota che poco dopo essa è fatta equivalente a quella per la  materia (i due concetti del sinolo): elBog dè Abyo tò ti fiv elva: éxdatov xal Thv aQOInY    odolav. Nota, tuttavia, che l'illustrazione del concetto è presa da realtà matematiche. stagno è simile all’argento per il bianco (‘), l’oro al fuoco  per il colore giallo-ardente. Per ciò è chiaro che anche il diverso e il dissimile si dicono in molti modi; e la diversità si oppone così all’ identità, che ogni cosa rispetto a ogni altra o è la stessa o è  diversa. Ma diverso è anche ciò di cui la materia e il concetto non è identico: tu, per es., e il tuo vicino siete diversi.  E la diversità, in terzo luogo, è come negli oggetti matematici (*). Diversità, dunque, e identità si dicono di ogni cosa  rispetto a ogni altra, purchè siano cose che hanno unità e  realtà: poichè il diverso non è il contradittorio dell’ identico,  onde non si dice delle cose non esistenti (delle quali la nonidentità pur si predica), ma delle cose esistenti tutte quante:  chè queste, avendo per natura unità ed esistenza, o sono  identiche o non identiche (*). Il diverso, dunque, e l’identico  si oppongono in questo modo.   Ma differenza e diversità non son lo stesso. Ciò ch'è diverso e ciò da cui è diverso non son di necessità diversi  per un rispetto determinato. Tutto, pur che sia reale, o è  diverso o identico. Ma quel ch’è differente da qualcosa, ne  differisce per qualche rispetto : quindi c’è necessaria   Alla 1. 23: fl Aeuxév, inv. di 7 xQvo@ (Ross). Per la somiglianza, cfr. V.  9, 6. La somiglianza, dunque, è o per la specie , o per il grado di questa , 0  perchè una qualità delle cose è la stessa, sebbene in grado diverso , o perchè di  qualità ne hanno un buon numero, o le più evidenti, in comune . Nel 1° caso,  la specie ha significato formale, ma non sostanziale (concreto), onde ]a differenza  resta puramente  quantitativa (la specie qui fa anche da qualità); nel 2°, è forma  sengibile, chiarita dal 3° caso: in questi © nel 4° si unisce un criterio quantitativo. Forse per questo A. non tratta, dopo, dell'uguale (di questo egli si è valso  anche per l’identico: cfr. $ 4‘. Gli opposti (dissimile e disuguale) vengono, quindi,  assorbiti dalla trattazione seguente intorno alla diversità, differenza e contrarietà.    Vedi $ 4. Qui la diversità, forse, è nella forma o concetto; nel caso precedente, nella materia: entrambi fan capo alla prima definizione (la quale vien  determinata nel paragrafo seguente per le cose esistenti sostanzialmente). Ho  tradotto con diverso o diversità sia l’Étegov, che l'&XX0; con lo stesso o identico  (o identità), tadté, e qualche volta anche l’Év (1. 22, dove l’altro Ev è, propriamente, l’unità). Per la diversità e la differenza (1 Biapoodi, cfr. V. 9, 4-5.    Ev e oòy Ev: ma questo bisogna pensarlo come privazione, 0 equivalente  all’Evegov: se, invece, si fa equivalente.al pù taòré della parentesi, si torna alla  negazione che vale per l'esistente e per il non-esistente.    vivi: prima tradotto «per qualche rispetto determinato ». La differenza di mente qualcosa d’identico per cui differiscono. Questo ch'è  identico, è o il genere o la specie. Noi vediamo, infatti, che  tutte le cose differiscono o per il genere o per la specie:  per il genere, quelle che non hanno una materia comune,  nè si generano le une dalle altre (*): così, quelle che figurano in una categoria diversa; per la specie, invece, quelle  che hanno il medesimo genere. E si chiama genere ciò che  di entrambe le cose differenti si dice, secondo la sostanza,  identicamente.   E i contrari son differenti: chè la contrarietà è una differenza determinata. Che questo, come ora s8’è esposto, stia  bene, è manifesto per induzione: poichè essi si mostrano,  tutti, differenti e identici, non soltanto diversi : ma alcuni  diversi per il genere; altri, essendo nella stessa serie della  categoria, son nello stesso genere e identici per questo.  Abbiamo altrove determinato quali cose sono per il genere  identiche o diverse.    genere può ammettere un’unità soltanto analogica: efr. V. 6, 15 (dove il genere  vien già identificato con la categoria: come nel paragrafo seguente). Prima, per  le forme dell’uno, è presupposto il molteplice; qui, il molteplice implica un  p. d. v. unitario (ma A. mette ciò poco o nulla in rilievo). Nota la mescolanza del p. d. v. realistico con quello logico. Di qui le difficoltà del passo, onde il Christ vorrebbe espunta la frase seguente, ch’egli, d’accordo col Bonitz, trova in contraddizione con l’altro accenno alle categorie nel  S 10. Il colore e il suono, ad es., son generi diversi, entrambi nella categoria  delia qualità, Il testo, tuttavia, dà ragione al Ross di sostenere che la serie categorica del $ 10 non accenna a una distinzione interna a ciascuna categoria,  ma coincide con l’accenno qui alle figure categoriche. « A. senza dubbio chiama  generi molte classi che non sono categorie, ma in senso stretto le categorie sono  i soli generi, perchè sono le sole classi che non sono specie» (Ross a q. l.).  Si può aggiungere che A., quando ha in vista l'essere concreto, lo pensa, insieme, come sinolo di materia e forma (dove il genere primo è la materia nella  sua maggiore indeterminazione), e come usia ch'è sostrato delle altre determinazioni (donde le categorie come summa genera, reali e logici insieme). Il testo è alquanto incerto: così, com'è nel Christ, meglio sottintendere  come soggetto tà èvavila (Ross), e fare del passo un preludio al capitolo seguente. Certo, il discorso si complica, qui, di entrambi i concetti, della diversità  e della differenza: il diversi in questo punto non ha lo stesso valore di quello    che segue (che comprende i contrari per coppie, non l’uno in rapporto all’altro).   Abbiamo altrove determinato: V. 28, 6. Poichè può darsi che le cose tra loro differenti differiscano 1  più o meno, ci ha da essere anche una differenza massima.  Questa io chiamo contrarietà: e che sia la massima differenza,  si vede per esperienza. Invero, tra le cose di genere differente non c’è passaggio, anzi si tengono lontane, sì che non  vengon mai a confronto. Ma quelle che differiscono per la  specie si generano da estremi che sono i contrari. Ora, la  differenza degli estremi è la maggiore che ci sia. E tale è  anche quella dei contrari. Ma ciò che in ciascun genere vi 2  è di maggiore, è perfetto: poichè maggiore di tutto è ciò  di cui niente è superiore, e perfetto è ciò fuori del quale non  è possibile trovar altro. La differenza perfetta possiede il  fine (‘), così come anche le altre cose si dicono perfette perchè  posseggono il fine: e fuori del fine non c’è nulla, poichè esso  in ogni cosa è l’ultimo termine e abbraccia tutto. Perciò non  c’è nulla fuori del termine finale, e ciò ch’è perfetto non  ha bisogno di nulla. Da questo è, dunque, chiaro che la contrarietà è una differenza perfetta. Ma, poichè i contrari si  dicono in molti sensi, la perfezione che a loro compete si  dirà, di conseguenza, negli stessi modi.   Così stando le cose, è manifesto che un contrario non può 3  avere più di un contrario: poichè del termine estremo non  se ne può dar uno più estremo, nè possono esserci più di  due estremi di una sola e unica distanza. E in generale, se  la contrarietà è una differenza, e la differenza è fra due  termini, così, dunque, sarà anche di quella ch’è differenza  perfetta.   E di necessità anche le altre definizioni dei contrari trar- 4  ranno di qui la loro verità. Poichè la differenza perfetta è  quella onde le cose differiscono di più: onde non è possi   Si tengano presenti i termini greci téievov e térog, e cfr. V. 16. Vedi anche  ivi, cap. 10, per l'opposizione in generale e per la contrarietà.  La fine di questo  paragrafo è chiarita dal 8 5. bile trovar nulla fuori di essa, sia che le cose differiscano  di genere, o di specie. Si è mostrato, infatti, che non è possibile una differenza in rapporto a cose che sian fuori del  genere, ma è tra quelle dello stesso genere che la differenza può esser massima, ed i termini che qui più differiscono sono contrari: chè differenza massima, in questi, è  quella perfetta. E dove ciò che può ricevere quei termini  è lo stesso, son contrari quelli che più differiscono: poichè  la materia per i contrari è la stessa, e così dicasi per le  cose che, cadendo sotto la stessa facoltà, differiscono di  più: poichè la scienza, se unica, è intorno a un unico genere,  dove la differenza perfetta è quella maggiore.   La principale contrarietà, poi, è tra abito e privazione:  non, tuttavia, ogni privazione (chè questa si dice in molti  modi), ma quella che sia perfetta. E le altre contrarietà si  diranno secondo questa: alcune perchè la posseggono, altre  perchè la producono o sono in grado di produrla, altre perchè  rappresentano un acquisto o una perdita di questi  o di  altri contrari. Che se opposizione è la contraddizione, la pri La differenza tra i generi o tra cose di genere diverso non è considerata  da A.come vera differenza, perchè manca il rapporto, identificato, da un p. d. v.  realistico-empirico, col passaggio, di cui al $ 1. Quando quel rapporto c'è, si ha  un p. d. v. logico (che vuole identità e ditterenza insieme). Ma, poi, questo 0 è  riguardato in una logica astratta (che sta tra quella del pensiero in sè e per  sè, e quella meramente discorsiva: i due terinini son racchiusi nella sintesi del  giudizio, ma il pensiero non si media ne'suoi termini, sì che questi restano uno  di fronte all'altro immediatamente), e si ha la contraddizione; ovvero il p. d. v.  logico vien concepito come coincidente con quel passaggio, e si ha la contrarietà. I contrari banno sempre una materia, si dice in XII. 10, 12: ossia, una  materia comune, ch'è il genere reale e logico, dentro il quale si muove il reale  e il pensiero che lo pensa. D'altra parte, poichè i limiti estremi, entro i quali  si vuol pensare ogni possibile mutazione, tendono a idealizzarsi sino al rapporto  assolutamente esclusivo (la privazione dev'essere totale, affinchè si abbia la differenza massima), la vera contrarietà diventa la contraddizione, pur che in questa  si  concepisca il termine negativo non nell'espressione astratta, ma nell’opposizione concreta (ch'è del pensiero a se stesso, non delle cose come pensa A.). La &ivauw qui è tanto potenza empirica (oggettiva), che razionale (s0gGettiva), come l’esempio della scienza chiarisce (salute e malattia, ad es., in  quanto dipendono dalla scienza medica).    Una stoffa possiede il bianco o il nero; l’arte medica o una medicina    produce, o può produrre, la salute o la malattia; il corpo puo perdere la salute  e riacquistarla; ecc.  vazione, la contrarietà e la relazione, e di queste la principale è la contraddizione, della quale non si dà. mezzo,  mentre si dà dei contrari,  è chiaro che contraddizione e  contrarietà non son la stessa cosa. La privazione è una contraddizione (') di certa natura: poichè ciò che soffre privazione, o in generale o in un certo modo, vien così determinato, secondo che o non abbia punto la capacità di una cosa,  o non abbia questa cosa pur essendo fatto da natura per averla.  Qui abbiamo già molti significati: secondo che altrove distinguemmo. Per cui la privazione è una contraddizione di  certa natura, o un’incapacità ch’è del tutto determinata,  ovvero è presa insieme a ciò che può riceverla. Perciò,  mentre della contraddizione non si dà mezzo, della privazione in qualche caso si dà: tutto, infatti, è o uguale o non  uguale; non tutto invece è uguale o disuguale, ma, se mai, ciò  vale soltanto per quel ch’è suscettibile dell’uguale. Che se  il divenire, dove c’è la materia, è tra i contrari, e avviene  o dalla forma e dal possesso della forma, o dalla privazione  determinata della forma o figura,  è chiaro che ogni contrarietà è una certa privazione; ma, invero, non ogni priva   Partendo dalla contraddizione, e realizzando il termine negativo nella  privazione in generale, questa si presenta come un caso della contraddizione, e  la contrarietà, a sua volta, come un caso della privazione (dove l'opposizione  steretica è la massima). Se partiamo, invece, dal mutamento reale, la contrarietà è una generalizzazione dell'opposizione steretica (atégeors ed Esc), e sta  tra questa e la contraddizione. Si risolve così la questione tra lo Zeller ‘che  voleva ridurre la privazione o alla contrarietà o alla contraddizione) e il Ross  (a q. 1.), che sostiene la subordinazione della privazione alla contraddizione, e  della contrarietà alla privazione. Ma A., preso nel testo, in verità, dà ragione  a tutti due; e come riconosce molti significati alla privazione, sì che c'è da  pensare che uno sia fondamentale (quello di contrarietà), così nel $ 5 ne riconosce molti per la contrarietà, sì che fa pensare che fondamentale sia l’opposizione steretica pura e semplice (senz’altra determinazione). L'incertezza nel  pensiero di A. si nota anche nella frase che segue, in cui la privazione vien  attribuita anche a ciò che «non ha affatto la capacità di qualcosa »: ch'è contro  il concetto fondamentale della steresi in quel che si distingue dalla negazione  astratta; e poco dopo è definita con analoga oscillazione, o per sò (« determinata  incapacità »), «o insieme a ciò che può riceverla». Per l'opposizione di relazione,  o correlazione (tà med x: ma A., in realtà, distingue i due concetti), v. 6, 5.  Secondo che altrove distinguemmo: V. 22. zione è una contrarietà: la ragione è che ciò ch'è passibile  di privazione può averla in molti modi, e soltanto quando  i termini del mutamento sono quelli estremi si ha la contrarietà. Lo si vede anche per esperienza. Ogni contrarietà  implica una privazione di uno dei due contrari, ma non  allo stesso modo sempre: la disuguaglianza è privazione dell'uguaglianza, la dissomiglianza della somiglianza, così come  il vizio della virtù. I casi sono differenti, secondo si è detto:  in uno, si bada semplicemente alla privazione, in un altro  al tempo o ad una parte, per es., a una certa età o alla  parte principale, oppure si tratta di una privazione totale.  Sì che in certi casi si da un mezzo (è possibile che un uomo  non sia nè buono nè cattivo), in altri non si dà (un numero  è necessariamente pari o dispari). Inoltre, alcuni contrari  hanno un sostrato determinato, altri no. È perciò manifesto  che sempre uno dei due si dice secondo privazione: basta  che questo sia manifesto per i generi fondamentali dei contrari, come l’uno e il molteplice: chè gli altri si riducono a  questi. Poichè a un contrario si oppone un solo contrario, si  potrebbe far questione come l’uno si opponga al molteplice,  e l’uguale al grande e al piccolo. La disgiuntiva noi l’adoperiamo sempre per esprimere un’antitesi: chiediamo, ad es.:  È bianco o nero? È bianco o non bianco? Non diciamo: È  uomo o bianco? Salvo che per un presupposto: come se si  chiedesse se venne Cleone o Socrate. Qui si ha un caso che  non ha carattere di necessità per nessun genere di cose.  Pure, anch'esso ha la stessa origine: poichè, non essendoci  che gli opposti che non possono trovarsi insieme, di tale  incompatibilità fa uso chi domanda quale dei due venne: chè,  se poteva darsi che venissero insieme, la domanda non  avrebbe avuto senso. Pure, anche in tal caso, si può similmente cadere nell’antitesi, in quella dell’uno e del molteplice,  chiedendo, ad es., se son venuti entrambi o uno solo. Se, dunque, negli opposti la domanda è sempre disgiun- 2  tiva; e poichè si può chiedere: È maggiore, minore, o uguale?:  di che natura è l’antitesi dell’uguale, a questi? Chè non è  contrario a uno solo, nè ad entrambi. Perchè, infatti, sarebbe  contrario al maggiore più che al minore? Aggiungi che  l’uguale è contrario al disuguale: per cui dei contrari esso  ne avrà più di uno. Che se il disuguale significa la stessa  cosa di quei due presi insieme, l’uguale si dovrebbe opporre  ad entrambi, e si finirà col dar ragione a quei che van dicendo che il disuguale è la diade ('). Ma, allora, uno solo  avrebbe due contrari: la qual cosa è impossibile. Poi, l’uguale  appare intermedio tra il grande e il piccolo; ma non si vede  come un contrario possa esser intermedio, nè, stando alla  definizione, è possibile: chè non sarebbe perfettamente contrario se fosse intermedio, anzi, se mai, c’è sempre un intermedio tra esso e l’altro termine.   Resta, allora, che l’opposizione sia o come negazione o 4  come privazione. Di uno solo dei due termini, non può essere. Perchè, infatti, si opporrebbe al grande piuttosto che  al piccolo? Sarà, dunque, una negazione privativa di entrambi (°). E per questo la disgiuniiva riguarda entrambi,  e non un termine solo, come farebbe chi chiedesse: È maggiore o uguale? oppure: È uguale o minore? Invece, i termini  son sempre tre.   Ma questa privazione non ha carattere di necessità: chè 5  non tutto è uguale ciò che non è nè maggiore nè minore;    YI Così i Platonici ricordati in XIV. 1, 3. Soltanto il nome sarebbe uno solo  (disuguale): in realtà i termini son due. Negazione (contradittoria), ch'è, come viene spiegato, doppia; ed esprimendo la possibilità reale di entrambe le contrarietà, è chiamata privativa, e  intermedia fra esse. Il termine doppiamente negativo è, qui, l’uguale; le due  contrarietà corrispondono alle due disgiuntive, nelle quali si determina la negazione, la quale è trattata come una realtà oggettiva, una potenza di contrari 0  un intermedio tra essi, La soluzione permette ad A. di mantenere cho a un cor»  trario si oppone un solo contrario ; di risolvere la diade dei Platonici nella  dualità espressa dalla parola « disuguale » ; trasferendo l’intermedietà nell'« uguale » non più come contrario, ma come negazione, di unificare, in certo  modo, in questa (quasi come un'attività di pensiero) le due disgiuntive .  Cfr. con quest'ultimo punto la discussione in IV. 7-8 intorno al terzo escluso. ma le cose soltanto che hanno natura di esser tali. L’uguale  è, appunto, ciò che non è nè grande nè piccolo, ma ha unatura di essere o grande o piccolo; e si oppone ad entrambi  come una negazione privativa: per cui è anche intermedia.  Anche ciò che non è nè buono nè cattivo si oppone a entrambi, ma non ha un nome, perchè ciascuno dei due si  dice in molti sensi (!), e non c’è una sola cosa che di essi  sia suscettibile. Non così, piuttosto, si può pensare di ciò  che non è nè bianco nè nero: pure, neanche qui si può dire  qualcosa di unico, sebbene i colori dei quali si enuncia privativamente tale negazione siano, in certo modo, limitati:  chè, necessariamente, o è grigio o è giallo, o altro di tal natura. Per cui non dirittamente obiettano coloro che stimano  il caso esser lo stesso per tutte le cose, sì che, come ciò che  non è nè buono nè cattivo sta in mezzo tra il buono e il  cattivo, della scarpa e della mano ci dovrebb’essere un intermedio che non è nè scarpa nè mano, e così ce ne dovrebb’essere uno per tutte le cose. Questa non è una conseguenza  necessaria: poichè in un caso è possibile una simultanea  negazione degli opposti in quanto è di cose di cui esiste un  intermedio e un intervallo naturalmente determinato; nell'altro caso, invece, non esiste questa differenza, perchè le 1086 b  cose delle quali si fa la negazione simultaneamente, son di  genere diverso, sì che non è identico il loro sostrato. Si può far questione, similmente, intorno all'uno e ai  molti: chè, se molti si oppone all’uno semplicemente, si  hanno alcune conseguenze assurde. L’uno sarebbe poco, 0  pochi: molti, infatti, si oppone a pochi. Poi, due sarebbe In ogni categoria: cfr. Eth. Nic., I. 4. 1096 a, 19. Non c'è un termine unico  che esprima (come l’« uguale ») le due negazioni. Neanche per il bianco-nero,  che pure son nella stessa categoria. Tanto meno quell’unico termine può esistere  in cose di genere diverso, tra le quali, mancando l’identità che accompagni la  differenza, non esiste passaggio. molti, una volta che doppio è multiplo e doppio dicesi considerando il due; per cui l’uno sarebbe poco. Infatti, in  rapporto a che il due è molti, se non all’uno, e però al  poco? Chè non c’è nulla che sia più poco. Inoltre: come 2  nella lunghezza il lungo e il corto, così nel molteplice è il  molto e il poco, e ciò ch’è molto è anche molti, e ciò ch'è  molti molto: sì che (se ne togli il caso di un continuo  che sia facile a limitare) il poco sarà una specie di molteplice, e tale quindi l’uno, se esso è anche poco: e che questo  sia, è necessario, se il due è molti.   Pure, se il molti dicesi anche in certo modo molto, una 3  differenza c’è: l’acqua, ad es., dicesi molta, non molti.  Molti, invece, dicesi per quante cose sono divisibili: in un  senso, se queste formino un molteplice che ecceda, o assolutamente o relativamente (e dicesi, similmente, poco se quel  molteplice sia in difetto); in un altro, vuol dir numero, e  in questo senso soltanto si oppone all’uno. Noi, infatti, diciamo «uno o molti», proprio come se si dicesse «uno  e uni», 0 «cosa bianca e cose bianche », e mettiamo in  rapporto le cose misurate con la misura, e parliamo del misurabile  così come del multiplo: poichè ogni numero è  molti in quanto risulta di uni ed è misurabile con l’uno,  e ne parliamo come di opposto all’uno(*), non al poco.  E così, quindi, anche il due è molti, non già nel senso che 4  sia un molteplice eccedente o relativamente o assolutamente,  ma nel senso ch’esso è il primo molti. Assolutamente inteso,  il due è pochi: chè esso è il primo molteplice che può     Il molto è, dunque, equivalente al molti: è, cioè, un molteplice. Se ne  tolga il caso di ciò ch'è «facile a limitare» (etoglotw), come i liquidi e tutto  ciò che prende dal limite (per es. del recipiente) la forma delia continuità:  l'acqua, ad es., non uvendo parti discrete, può esser un molto, non un molti.   Soppresso il punto (Ross).   Le conseguenze assurde derivavano, dunque, dall’opporre il molteplice all’uno senza distinzione di significato (semplicemente). V. Sommario, e conchiusione del capitolo,    Il due parrebbe, quindi, il principio del molteplice (come la dualità platonica), D'altronde, il principio di esso, nel senso di misura, è l’uno. La soluzione  sembra questa: in quanto l'uno e il molteplice sono contrari, come l’indivislbile esser in difetto (perciò, anche, andò fuori strada Anassagora  quando disse che « tutte le cose erano insieme, infinite e  per molteplicità e per piccolezza »: invece di ): il quale stabiliva quale fosse il numero di qualcosa (questo qui, ad es., dell’uomo; questo qui, del cavallo),  imitando con sassolini le forme degli esseri viventi, al  modo stesso di coloro che riducono i numeri alle figure, al  triangolo e al quadrato. Ovvero è perchè l’armonia è un  rapporto  di numeri, e così è anche l’uomo e ognuna delle  altre cose? Ma come, poi, le qualità, il bianco e il dolce e 9  il caldo, son numeri? Che, poi, i numeri non siano sostanze,  nè cause della forma, è evidente: è il rapporto ch’è la sostanza, il numero è materia (°). Per es., la sostanza della  carne o dell'osso è un numero in questo senso: che ci vogliono tre parti di fuoco e due di terra. E sempre il numero,    assorbito nel prodotto, sì che fuori non ne sia restato nulla a insidiare la vita  dell'altro; cfr. VI. 3, 2: «chi vive dovrà morire, perchè è già avvenuto questo,  che elementi contrari si trovano nello stesso corpo »): il numero, dunque, non è  eterno.   Le considerazioni che seguono, sino alla fine del libro, come nota il Bonitz,  « Pythagoreorum doctrinam praecipue tangunt et fortasse Platonicos quosdam  qui ad Pythagoreos proxime accedebant». Scolaro di Filolao, al principio del sec. IV: porta, come si vede, al comico la dottrina dei numeri come sostanza delle cose e la loro figurazione geometrica.  putàv, delle piante; ma è probabile, suggerisce il Ross, che qui sia usato  nel senso più antico e ampio di « essere vivente ».    È sostanza o rapporto? Se sostanza (essenza), come, allora, la qualità?  Se è rapporto, invece, non è sostanza (sostrato). Numero equivale qui a molteplicità di cose (soltanto il numero monadico,  1. e. aritmetico, è di unità astratte). Cfr., per gli esempi, I. 9, 18 e 10, 2. sia quale si voglia, è numero di certe cose: di particelle di  fuoco o di terra, ò è un numero di unità astratte. La s0stanza, invece, implica che c’è tanto di questo unito per la  mescolanza a tanto di quello: e questo non è già un numero,  ma rapporto numerico della mescolanza di cose corporee, o   10 d’altra specie. Il numero, dunque, sia quello in generale e  sia quello ch’è di unità astratte, non è causa delle cose nè  per il fare, nè come materia, nè come concetto e specie. Nè,  certamente, come causa finale ('). Si potrebbe anche far questione in che consiste la perfezione che alle cose deriverebbe dal numero, quando la loro  mescolanza è fatta secondo un rapporto numerico perfetto 0  secondo un numero dispari. Sta di fatto che non per questo  l’idromele è più salubre se acqua e miele siano mescolati in  modo da fare tre volte tre (*); anzi, se è acquoso senza nessun  determinato rapporto può giovare di più che se, per farlo. in   2 rapporto numerico, sia troppo forte. E si noti che i rapporti  delle parti di ciò che vien mescolato si esprimono con l’addizione del loro numero, non con i numeri soltanto: per es.,  «tre parti a due», non «tre volte due ». Poichè le cose che  vengono moltiplicate debbon essere dello stesso genere: per  cui, data una serie di fattori, 1. 2.3, essa dev’esser misurata dal primo termine: se è 4.5. 7, dal 4. Insomma, in tutti  i casì, dal termine ch’esprime lo stesso genere. Non può  essere, quindi, che il numero del fuoco sia 2. 5. 3. 7, e quello   3 dell’acqua 2.3(*). Che se il numero fosse una natura co- 1009 a     Nessuna, dunque, delle quattro specie di causa, Nota concetto e specie:  la causa formale come pensiero e insieme come forma reale.   (2) tels tela: si deve dire, invece, ammonisce A. dopo, «tre a tre », poichè si  tratta di un iniscuglio. In « tre volte tre », e nella moltiplicazione in generale, ch'è  un'addizione ripetuta dello stesso numero, questo dev' esser sempre dello stesso  genere.    Chè anche il fuoco sarebbe acqua. Penso che questo patagrafo prosegua ancora l'argomentazione ch'è alla fine del 8 9 del cap. prec. mune di tutte le cose, ne verrebbe, di necessità, che molte  cose sarebbero le stesse, e lo stesso numero sarebbe proprio  di questa cosa e di una cosa diversa. Ma è questa, allora,  la causa delle cose, ed è per questo che una cosa è quello  che è? O non è ciò molto oscuro? Poniamo: esiste un certo  numero per le traslazioni del sole, e così per quelle della  luna, e anche per la vita e l’età di ciascuno degli esseri  viventi. Che impedisce, allora, che alcuni di questi numeri  siano quadrati, altri cubici, alcuni uguali e altri doppi? Nulla;  anzi, di necessità, tutti (') si aggirano in questi rapporti, una  volta che la natura del numero è comune a tutte le cose, e  quelle che sono differenti possono cadere sotto lo stesso numero. Per cui, se ad alcune convenisse lo stesso numero,  quelle sarebbero identiche tra loro che avessero la stessa  forma del numero: il sole e la luna, ad es., sarebbero identici (?).   E perchè son cause questi numeri? Ci sono sette vocali,  sette corde o note musicali, sette son le Pleiadi; al settimo  anno, almeno alcuni animali (altri, no), perdono i denti;  sette, quei che pugnarono a Tebe. È, dunque, perchè quel  numero ha quella natura lì, che quelli si trovarono in sette,  o che le Pleiadi hanno sette stelle? O non piuttosto, per quelli,  perchè sette erano le porte della città, o per qualche altra  causa? E per le Pleiadi siam noi che così le contiamo, come  ne contiamo dodici per l’Orsa (altri ne contano di più).  Essi dicono anche che E Y Z sono consonanze, e poichè tre  sono in musica le consonanze, tre, dicono, sono queste doppie  consonanti. Non si dànno nessun pensiero che di questa specie  ce ne potrebbero esser mille: basta, poniamo, porre un segno  unico per I° P. Che se opponessero che ognuna di quelle è  doppia delle altre, e che nessun’altra consonante è così, la Non è chiaro se voglia dire: a) che tutti è numeri sono risolubili in rapporti o figure geometriche (8v tovtotce); b) che tutte le cose, per i Pitagorici, sono  risolubili in numeri. Ma, forse, son conglobati entrambi i pensieri (nota infatti,  alla fine del paragrafo, «la stessa forma del numero »: t. aùrà elbos do.)   (2) Alcunì citano XII. 8, dove il sole e la luna hanno lo stesso numero di  sfere o movimenti di traslazioni. O si riferisce qui alla figura? ragione, poi; è che tre sono i luoghi della bocca (‘) in cui  si producono le consonanti e a ciascuna vien congiunto  medesimamente il sigma: per questo sono tre sole, e non  perchè tre siano le consonanze musicali: in realtà, queste  sono più di tre, di quelle non ce ne possono esser di più.  Costoro somiglian proprio ai vecchi interpreti d’Omero, i quali  vedono le somiglianze piccole, e sfuggono a loro le grandi.  Ci sono alcuni che dicono ancora molte cose di questo genere: per es., che avendo le due corde di mezzo l’una nove  l’altra otto toni, il verso epico ha diciassette sillabe, uguale  al numero di quelle, e ch’esso si scandisce a destra (*) con  nove sillabe, a sinistra con otto. E dicono che l'intervallo  tra l’alfa e l’omega nelle lettere è uguale a quello tra la nota  più bassa e la più alta del flauto, e che il numero di quest'ultima è uguale alla totalità dell’armonia celeste (*). Si deve  notare che nessuno troverebbe difficoltà a spiegare in questo  modo le cose eterne e a scoprirne le concordanze: chè non  è difficile neanche per le cose corruttibili.   Le nature tanto lodate che sarebbero nei numeri, e quelle  a loro contrarie, e in generale le proprietà degli oggetti  matematici nel senso in cui ne parlano alcuni per farne cause  della natura, sembrano svanire agli occhi di coloro che considerano le cose così come noi facciamo (°): chè nessuna di  esse si può dir causa, in nessuno dei modi da noi determinati trattando dei principii. Certamente, come essi fan vedere, la perfezione appartiene a tali oggetti, manifestamente; e alla serie delle cose dov’ è la bellezza appartengono  il dispari, il retto, l’uguale, le potenze di certi numeri. Chè    (1) Donde la distinzione di gutturali, dentali, labiali.   (3) La prima parte; a sinistra, la seconda (Aless.).   (3) Secondo Aless., il 24 (12 segni dello zodiaco; 8 sfere, quella delle stelle  fisso e le sette dei pianeti; 4 elementi).   Le une benefiche, le altre malefiche. La mentalità critica allontana molto A. da’ suoi contemporanei.   (6) Lo Schwegler intende che questo sia detto ironicamente. Pensando alla  fine del $ 5 e al passo già citato di XIII. 3, 8, ho dato, invece, alla traduzione  il tono come se A. faccia qualche concessione alla dottrina combattuta così vivacemente. In ogni modo, egli afferma, in fine, che si tratta di mere analogie. le stagioni e un numero di certa specie vanno insieme; e  tutte le altre proprietà ch’essi raccolgono dai teoremi matematici, hanno questo valore. Perciò anche si rendono appa-  riscenti le coincidenze: poichè sono, sì, meramente proprietà  di ciascuno di essi, ma tutte si corrispondono tra loro, e  fanno una cosa sola dal punto di vista dell’analogia. Poichè  in ogni categoria dell’essere c’è l'analogia: come la linea  retta nella lunghezza, così è il piano nella superficie, e senza  dubbio il dispari nel numero, e il bianco nel colore.   Quanto ai numeri, in fine, che consistono nelle specie,  essi non sono la causa delle armonie e delle cose di questa  natura: poichè essi differiscono tra di loro, anche se uguali,  per ia specie, una volta che anche le unità son differenti (').  Sì che, almeno per queste ragioni, non c’è bisogno di porre  tali specie.   Queste, dunque, le conseguenze che si posson trarre,  e più ancora se ne potrebbero addurre. Il fatto stesso del  loro grande travaglio a spiegarne la genesi, e il non riuscire  in niun modo a dar coerenza all'insieme, è un indizio che  gli oggetti matematici non hanno esistenza separata, come  alcuni dicono, dalle cose sensibili, e che i primi principii  non son questi.    (1) I numeri ideali, essendo di unità di specie differente (e però &ovufàintay,  come si dice nel libro precedente), sono anch’ essi differenti di specie, anche se  uguali (se son triadi, ad es., comprese nello stesso numero nove). Non con essi,  dunque, ma con i numeri matematici, se mai, ci si può render ragione di cose, le  quali, come nell’armonia le unità e i rapporti di uno stesso tono, sono della stessa  specie. Armando Carlini. 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. Carlini.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carmando – Roma – filosofia italiana (Roma). Charmander -- According to Seneca, Carmando wrote a book on comets.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Caro: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale dell’interpretare -- interpretante, interpretato – scuola di Roma – filosofia romana – filosofia lazia -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Roma). Filosofo romano. Filosofo lazio. Filosofo italiano. Roma, Lazio. 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)  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 Poggi),  La filosofia analitica e le altre tradizioni, Carocci, Roma)  Naturalismo, special issu Rivista di Estetica, (with Barbero and Voltolini) Editor of The Architecture of Reason. Epistemology, Agency, and Science, Carocci,Roma (with Egidi)   Editor of Siamo davvero liberi? Le neuroscienze e il mistero del libero arbitrio,Codice, Torino) (with Lavazza and Sartori). Guest editor ofÈ naturale essere naturalisti?, special issue of  Etica e politica, (with Barbero - Voltolini). 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 Macarthur)   Editor of the Italian version of H. Putnam, The Fact/Value Dicothomy, Fazi, Roma) Normatività, fatti, valori, Quodlibet, Macerata (essays by Wright, Hornsby, Fogelin, et alii ) (with Rosaria Egidi and Massimo De ll‟ Utri)   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 dedicato a  La filosofia di Martino,  Machiavelli e Lucrezio ,  postface to Brown,  Machiavelli e Lucrezio. Fortuna elibertà nella Firenze del Rinascimento, Carocci, Roma, Metafisica e naturalism o: una entente cordiale?, Sistemi intelligenti, Galileo e il platonismo fisico - matematico, in Chiaradonna,  Il platonismo e le scienze, Carocci, Roma Introduzione (with R. Chiaradonna) to R. Chiaradonna,  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  Lavazza, G. Sartori (a cura di),  Neuroetica,Il Mulino, Bologna  Filosofia della mente,  in  Dizionario della mente Treccani, Istituto dell’EnciclopediaItaliana Italiana, Roma Ne uro-mania e natura lismo  (commento, su invito, a ll articolo target di Castelfranchi e  Paglieri) (con  Lavazza), Giornale italiano di psicologia,  Il migliore dei naturalismi possibili  Etica et Politica / Ethics et Politics, (with  Voltolini). 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, Mondadori, Milano   Neuroetica e libero a rbitrio,  in Bacin (a cura di),  Etiche antiche e moderne, Il Mulino,Bologna Introduction to the Italian tr. of Dupré,  Human Nature and the Limits ofScience, Laterza, Roma-Bari (with Telmo Pievani). Temi scotistici nella discussione contemporanea sul libero a rbitrio,   Quaestio  Gazzaniga, Hauser e la fallacia dei cromosomi mora li,  Micromega  (Almanacco di scienze) Filosofia, musica e asc olto, Rivista di storia della filosofia,  Il ritorno dello scientismo,  in M. Failla (cur.) B ene navigavi . Studi in onore di Franco Bianco, Quodlibet, Macerata  Il naturalismo scientifico contemporaneo: caratteri e pr  oblemi,  in Costa - F. Michelini(eds.),  Natura senza fine, EDB, Bologna  Causazione mentale e plura lismo, Iride, (with MassimoMarraffa).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   Teoria dell’az ione Scetticismo moderno e contemporane o, in  Enciclopedia filosofica di Gallarate, Bompiani, Milano Nozick, Strawson e l’illusione  della libertà,Pellegrino e Salvatore, Nozick .  Identità personale, libertà e realismo morale, LUISS University Press, Roma Questioni metafisiche: Dio e la libertà,  in Coliva,  Filosofia analitica. Temi e problemi, Carocci, Roma with G. De Anna). 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  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 – C., Normatività, fatti, valori, Quodlibet, Macerata  Olismo e interpretazione radica le,  in M. De ll Utri (a cura di), Olismo, Quodlibet,Macerata Il naturalismo fisicalistico: un dogma filosofico?, in P. Parrini (ed.), Conoscenzae cognizione, Guerini, Milano  Teorie de l’int erpretazione e criteri di correttezza,  in Montaleone (ed.),  Parole fuorilegge.  L’idiotismo  linguistico tra filosofia e letteratura, Cortina, Milano   Libertà, Paradigmi, Forme dello scetticismo e interpre tazione, Fenomenologia e società,   Contro la centralità delle regole: l’esternalismo di  Davidson,  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 dell’olismo. 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 Putnam, Lingua e Stile, XXXI,  Epistemologia e interpretazione: l esternalismo di  Davidson, Rivista di filosofia,  Il platonismo di Ga lileo,  Rivista di filosofia,  La discriminazione tra la scienza e l'arte: un problema per il relativismo epistemico, 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  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 Egidi, 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 Quine   [review of Quine,  La scienza e i dati di senso, Roma  Tempo presente, Review of  Scienza e relativismo: un ossimoro?   [review of: R. Egidi, 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, Crane: participant in the debate on  Semiotics and Phenomenology of the Se lf, Roma, Società Italiana di Filosofia: 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 Will.  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  Benini eS.F. Magni). Nature and Free dom.  : University  Ca’Foscari,  Venice. International Conference, Davidson: 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. Genoa, conference,  Mental Processes ;relatore invitato per la sezione  Action and Rationality    Hornsby). 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 . F reedom and the Social Sciences  ). Vita e Salute - San Raffaele  University, Milano. International Conference,  A Day for Freedom? A Conference on Free W ill. Discussant di Hughes: 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: University of Pavia Giason del Maino College. Lecture on TheContemporary Debate on Free Will . University "Vita e Salute    San Raffaele,  Milano. Lecture on  Freedomand Nature. University of Piemonte Orientale, Vercelli, Department ofHumanistic Studies, conference on  Scientists and Philosophers and the Study ofComplex Sy stems: Genova, VI International Conference of the Italian Society of Analytic Philosophy (member of the scientific committee). Rome. International Symposium "Questions on Naturalism"  Rome.  Davidson on Human Free dom.  Conference on Davidson, Department of Philosophy, Università Roma Tre (Rome. Discussant of Akeel Bilgrami. Workshop at LUISS University. Florence. Paper:  Metaphysical Libertarianism . Conference on Nozick’s philosophy, Department at the University of Florence (speaker), Sassari. Lecture on  Logica e retorica   [Logic and Rhetoric].Department of Foreign Languages and Literatures, University of Sassari (invited lecturer), 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), Messina. Paper on   Naturalism and Intentionality . Annual Meeting of theItalian Society of Philosophy of Language. Cosenza. Lecture:  Memoria e identità [Memory and Identity].Department of Philosophy, Università di Cosenza, Florence. 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 , Rome. Paper on  Il fondamento filosofico dei diritti umani [The Philosophical Foundation of Human Rights]. Conference  The Question of HumanRights   Università di Roma  La Sapienza 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 cause Reasons and causes  Calabria ( Padua. Lecture on   Freedom and Naturalism,  Department of Philosophy,Università di Padova, Milan. Paper on  Interpretations and Criteria of Correctness .Conference:  Interpretation and Correcteness, Università Statale di Milano (Bologna. Causality and Naturalism. Annual Meeting of the ItalianSociety of Analytic Philosophy, Università di Bologna (invited speaker). Rome. Paper on  Forms of Causation. Annual Meeting of the Italian Societyof Philosophy, Università Roma Tre  Siena. What 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 Davidson, Università Roma Tre, Rome. Speaker with Davidson at the presentation of the book M. De C.,  Interpretations and Causes. New Perspectives on Donald Dav idson’s Philosophy, Università Roma Tre Rome. Paper on  Against an Alleged Refutation of Kripke’s Skeptical Argument . Facts and Norms, Conference of the Italian 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.  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). 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), 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 – scuola di Catania – filosofia siciliana -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Catania). Filosofo italiano. Catania, Sicilia. 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carpanis: implicatura conversazionale e arte combinatoria razionale – scuola di Napoli – filosofia napoletana – filosofia campanese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Napoli). Filosofo italiano. Napoli, Campania. Tulius vero perfectissimus orator in cuius libro Rhetoricorum de hac arte tractavit licet obscuro et subtili modo in tantum quod nemo ipsum intelligere valuit nisi per divinam gratiam et doctorem qui doceret ipsam artem qualiter deberet pratichari. Ad una diversa atmosfera culturale e a temi legati alla “psicologia” e alla “filosofia” più che alla retorica, ci riportano invece altri saggi nei quali l'influsso delle impostazioni del LIZIO ed AQUINO (vedasi) è assai più forte di quello esercitato dalla tradizione della retorica di CICERONE (vedasi). Si tratta, come è ovvio, solo di una differenza di grado poiché proprio attraverso Alberto ed AQUINO (vedasi), l’arte di CICERONE (vedasi) della memoria è entrata a far parte del patrimonio della cultura scolastica e tuttavia, in qualche caso, si assiste, leggendo questi trattati, all’interessante tentativo di ricavare direttamente dai testi del LIZIO alcune regole della memoria artificiale. In questo senso è tipico il “De nutrienda memoria”, pubblicato a Napoli nel quale C. si propone di presentare le dottrine svolte dal LIZIO nel De memoria et reminiscentia condite col sale d’AQUINO. Il sensus communis appare a C. simile a una gigantesca selva – “silva maxima” --  nella quale vengono accumulandosi le immagini provocate da ciascuno dei cinque sensi. Su questo caos agisce l’intelletto con una triplice operazione. In primo luogo, l’intelletto dove prendere coscienza delle immagini. In secondo luogo l’intelletto connette l’immagini secondo un ordine preciso. Infine, quasi deambulans per pomerium, l’intelletto lega l’una all’altra le cose simili ri-ponendole in archa memoriæ. Quando di quelle cose si parli, l'intelletto quasi de armario pomorum cibum sumens, VERBA per dentes ruminantis intellectus EMITTIT. La MEMORIA, a sua volta, si muove su un duplice piano: quello del senso – o mera percezione (Grice, “Personal identity and memrory: “I am hearing a noise” – Someoe, I, is hearing is noise -- e quello dell’intelletto. La memoria sensitiva (vis quaedam sensitivæ animæ) appare strettamente congiunta col corpo – Grice: uses of “I” attached with ‘my body’ -- e capace di ritenere corporalia tantum; quella intellettiva – cf. Grice, pure ego, ‘soul’ --, al contrario, è armarium specierum sempiternarum. Alle principali tesi del LIZIO C. accosta, quasi sempre, la citazione di passi tratti dal De triritate di Agostino. Così la dottrina del LIZIO del carattere corporeo dei CONTENUTI della memoria – “I was hit by a cricket bat” -- sensitiva viene accostata al passo di Agostino sulla memoria delle pecore che, dopo il pascolo, tornano all’ovile. Mentre la nota tesi agostiniana della identità tra memoria intelletto e volontà viene citata a conferma del carattere intellettivo di una delle due parti nelle quali la memoria si suddivide. Anche la dottrina degl’aiuti (admincula) della memoria risente da vicino della sua origine in AQUINO (vedasi). Accanto all’ordine (bonus ordo memoriam facit habilem) e alla ripetizione (ex frequentibus actis habitus generatur) C. colloca fra gl’aiuti principali la similitudo e la contrarietas. Senza far ricorso all’arte della memoria locale [De nutrienda memoria C. regnante serenissimo et illustrissimo odmino nostro D. Ferdinando dei gratia rege Sicilie, Hierusalem et Hungarie, contenuto nel cit. Cod. marciano De nutrienda memoria. De nutrienda memoria. C. giunge in tal modo a fissare alcune regole ricavate, anziché da CICERONE, dalla psicologia del LIZIO. Contrarietas secundum dicitur adminiculum ubi notandum est quod quando res diversorum ordinum et qualitatum essent recitandæ in una oratione vel in una sententia eloquendac, tunc ordo subsequens debet esse contrarius immediate antecedenti, ut si videlicet memoranda essent libertas servitus frigus estas divitiæ paupertas pictas crudelitas iustitia impictas, sic ut sunt hic nominata ordinabis; non autem dices: libertas, frigus servitus estas divitiæ pietas paupertas crudelitas. Graveretur enim memoria sic inordinate procedens cuius ratio videtur quia contraria non se compatiuntur ad invicem immo iuxta se posita nullo medio, motum habent contrarium et operationem ad invicem contrariam. Sic itaque, sicut motum nullo medio ad invicem habet contrarium, sic in memorando nullum aliud habendo vei querendo auxilium, movebunt memoriam. ARS ENIM IMITATVR NATVRAM. Un tentativo dello stesso genere è presente anche nel De omnibus ingeniis augendae memoriae di CARRARA (si veda) pubblicato a Bologna. Anche in questo caso le osservazioni del LIZIO sull’ordine, sul passaggio del simile al simile, sulla contrarietas vengono interpretate come vere e proprie “regole” dell’ars memorativa. Ma oltre che per queste derivazioni del LIZIO e per la proposta di un particolare tipo di De nutrienda memoria. Inc. contenuto, accanto a quelli delle opere di TOMAI e di C., nel cod. marciano -- Eximio dldodori domino salvatori de peregrinis de mai da magister Dominicus de C. de Neapoli ordinis minorum. Vom a nobis poftfauerit dominatio tua ut ea uobis exeplaremurjqua; ab LIZIO tradit litteris credita  de nutrienda memoria disciplina dC fi nobis in £fentiarum multis fludibus laboratibus onerofujn ee uideat attame il  Ia qua: uincit oia cantafid redit fue uirtute iocudu ipfe igif  oia uincens amor^qui ut eius eft jprefto nos cantati tue red  dit obfequi et parere ab amoris ope et obfequio noftro:oes  inuidie et liuoris apes ac detractdionis aculeos ambigat et  expellatjquac du ueritatis mella diffundere uident corda ta  meaudientiufelleapcrimuntinmdiadu femen difcipline  fide ab eorum cordibus mordedo detrudut:His igitur fur  da aure poft terga dimiflis accipe caritatis noftre dC n5 ali/  cuius dodrine munufcula qua: Ariftotelis dicut de memo  ria dc reminifeentia documenta fandi dodbris Thome de  Aquino (ale codita quoru uidclicetquom quatuor fint pri  mueitanotadu Capitulum pmiflum fuper documeta  Rimo notandu e q> in traditoe cuiuflibet documeti  pmo erit regula documeti trahes:fecrido poft fe exe  pluttertio aut ueniet ratio* Ita*n*i ubet Ariftoteles in princi/  pio primi de partibus aialiudices eruditi n.e fecudu jp po/  (itu dC bene pofle iudicare q> at bene aut no bene redit cam  hazcille qrto uero incides,p fufeipiedo documeto iuuame.   Primum documetum^j   Ota q> bonus dC clarus intelledus habile et clara red /  dit memoriam* 4 A  Exemplum*   Otar ummmide tu r facilior q ignotoru memoria ho/  minum intelligere igitur memoranda conare  Ratio ;i   Vonia cu memoria ut idem ariftoteles teftatur nil  aliud fit qua firma retentio 3t coferuatio reru imagi^  nu prius ab aia pceptaru qua qde coferuatione eloquentiae  tbelauru latinoru oratoru princeps cicero uocat:N5 T nifi g i  telledus manum in memoria: arch a funt quarqs memora/  turus eft conferuada intelledusmmt cois ethimologia fon^  re uideturqfi intra memoria: Iedu leges e*i*in reqem das  quxfxpeuoluit intelligere Iuuamen, D qua ratione accipienda fcieau e q? comunis fenfus  nofter quii prima capitis parte fitus eft tanq filua ma  xima e in qua omnium rerum imagines per unu quecj fenfuum percepte relucent ficut in filua oium et arboru et pia/  tarumherbarumc^faciesjperunum quodqj femen exorte  uirent ex hoc igitur chaos maximo intelledus:quafi germi  na prima qux dicuntur cimx plantarum cultor luis quxqjs  poft eorum cognitioem quae prima intellectus operatio di  citur nedit ordinibus: quae fecunda eius operatio dicitur:&  tertio quafi deambulans per pomerium incoclufione legit  fimilibusfimiliacoaceruans:qua{iin fafciculos ligna : 6c ca  lato poma:quia nihil eft in intelledu quin prius fuerit in fen  fm&illa in archa memoria reponit:de quibus cum loquif  quafi de armario pomorum cibum fumens VERBA perdentes ruminantis intelledus emittithinc Auguftinusin diaf/  colomficut ingenium inquit diuidendoinueftigatSC inue/  nit ita memoria colligedo cuftodit dC quafi fos riuulos emittit memoria uerba f Aliud adminiculum. Ropter quid notadum eft adhuc g? memoria e mul /  tiplex uidelicet memoria fenfitiua et memoria intelle  ctiuateft aut memoria fenfitiua iiisquarda anime fen  (itiuecorporaliunitaorganocorporalia* tantum apprehen  dens et retinens &C eodem pereuntis periens*ad hoc et nunc  ipfa fe habensmnde Auguftinus in fecundo de tnnitate^pof  funtinquitpecorafentirepcorporis fenfus& ea memorie  madare«ad affuetuenim prefepe reuertituraflenfus qii#q-r  dem fenfitiua memoria deftructo organo corporali perit et  ipfa q? patet in mtellectiuo homine qui ab retentis in {enlitiua memoria fpetiebus demu ad intellectiua memoria refle  ctitunfignu autem huius da^Auligehus i libro de noctibus  acticisloquens de democrito philofophout retentas fpecies fenfitiu as melius mtelligeret fe orbante. Emoria aute intellectiua eft potentia et uis quarda in  tellectiue anime fpecieru fempi ternarum armariu un  de LIZIO in tertio de aia^aia inqt locus fpecieru e no to  ta fed intellectus ideft itellectiua memoria hinc Auguftin9   imxi.de trinitate memoria inqt intelligentia et uoluntas fut  una mens.ha:c nec corpus e nec in corpore uirtustcorpora  lia enim tatummodo memoraretur ut patet p Ariftotele di  centes multi colore efreoculualioquiiifuo tatumodo colo  re colorata uideret:extrah it etia non folum fpecies a corpo  ralibus ut intelligibilia fiant memoranda ea fibi aftimilado:  Sed etiam ab hoc &C nunc quaquam ut pafliua potentia no  femper ipfa actualiter memoretur:ha?c de memorie diuifio  ne tipice dicta fufficiant. Adminiculumduplexeft,. A ii Rjmu dicitur attentio Ariftotelcs indude afa addes  adiuoru (ut ipatiete bene difpofito: Ariftotelis at pre  ceptor piato intimeo auidi difcipuli et probi forma deferibes ego iquit ut probu auditore decet fine fermoe fub fcile/  tio metem aurefqj parabo:hinc Hieronimus ad Paulinum  habet inquit nefcioqd latentis energie uiue uocis adus et  in aures difcipuli de dodoris ore tranffufa fortius fonat fi/  militer 3C deledatio cum admiratoe unde et pueri:& mob  les carne funt boni intellcdus atep memoria na pueri pri/  mum ifbrme habentes aiam:& cam oium ignoratestin fcie  tiis delcdant& admirant i cognofeedis ude et magiftroru  dcfedut honore dC flatuas afpiciut admirateffanctoru dC de  pidas eoru hiflorias»Secudi uero tanq impotetes oium ad  miratur dC magnifaciut fcietias:magnain«faciut dodrina et  ut iperfedi perfeddem ea acquirere dcledantunattede igi  tur difcedis et memorandis ut magnifacias ea : Arifloteles  enim dicit quedam femeLfiattente uidentes melius memo  ramur qua aha multotiesXno attete et Saluflius ubi itede/  ris igeniu ualet Itedeledaretifciedis &mcmoradis 8>C mafgnifica iIIa:Tulli? n bene iquit memoramur q i pueritia di  dicimus et orati? quo femel e ibuta reces f uabit odore Te  ftadiu: &cudeledari:c6tingat cuqb9cofuetudoine(l ipfe  £ git tecum loquere et cum fcientia quafi cum fponfa iocare  multis ornata monilibus. ACCADEMIA enim in academia uilla fer  pentibuscircuncindautdifcipulorum animus infe reclu/  fus proficeret in dodrina legebat hoc etiam communis co  fuetudo uidetur approbare fcolarium qui feneflrasauleftu  dii tela uelant ut aer tantummodo pro afpiciendis litteris 8C  non pro oculorum uagatione illuminetur Secundum adminiculum  Ecnndu adminiculu diciturnioderatio apprchenfo^  rum per intellectu : no enim ualet memoria retinere  qua: intellectus caperc:facilius enim eft ligna lddere&liga  re qua fuppofitis humeris fubtecloportare Ite tectu no eft  capax omniu qua: in iilua funt lignoru noli igitur plura le/  gend.o per intellectufri capere qua qua: ualet memoria reti  nere ne forte ceflante intellectus tympano et pfalterio Jn in  tcllectione illoru ceflet etiam dC illoru poflefiio utilius eni  tiidetur tranfeunti & trafuolantiprouincias&uoluptat'em  in nouitate diuerfaruni reru captanti diutius comorarij \ ali da oculoru tantumodo uolate praefenria delectari:tran(acta  eni imagine tranfit oblectatio primo Secundo uero relicta  eft umgofimul et floru pofTeflio» archa aut pofieffiois (ciS  tie memoria primo vacua fecudo uero remanet plena Secundum documentum Otaq>bonusre&ufq$ ordo memoria faciet bona ha  bilemcj et rectam Exemplum. Aciliusrectiufcjmemoraturus quis conuiuante fa /  miliam totam (i afeendendo a feruis icipiet et grada  tim ad patrem familias cucurrerit reuerhirus ad feruosdon  gius enim erit iter memorie et reminifccntie in reuerfioe et  defcefu ad feruos propter quod lafla et fefifa memoria ipm  relinquet unde Hieronymus ait de euangelifta Matheo cp  ufus fuerit ordine pra:pofteroded neceffario comutato ut  generationis chrifti feries texeretur   jKatio ad memoranda Vom Augiifliniisdecimononode ciuitate dei dicat  q? ordo eft parium difpariucj rerum fua cuiqj loca tribuens A iii dispositioiu fiet motus mcmoric ad illa memor&U quem  admodu dCordinistquapropter Cicero fenfit q> oratorem  oporteret oia fcire fcilicet lecudii ordinem 'quia ars imitatur  fcmper concito gradu naturam j   Iuuamen Binotandu eft quod ordo eft multiplex cuius 'nobis  diuifio trina fufficiat primus ordo dicitur ordo natu  ire duplex exiftens primus dicitur uniuerfalis quod faftum  a BOEZIO (vedasi) dicitur in libro de philofophicaconfolatione q fe  cundu eunde in dicto libro nil aliud cffqua difpofitio mobi  liu reru per qua diuina prouidentia fuis quarqp nectit ordini  bus fic pecudis femen ad pecude generanda et hominis or  dinatur adhoiem et ut Ouidi? primo methamor.ait, Affra  tenent cadefle foliu formeqsdeoru ceUerunt nitidis habitan  de pifcibus unde Terra feras ca:pit uolucres agitabilis aer#  Ecundusaute particularis dicitur (ecundu que natu  ta in uno quoqs parpaiki i naturaliter producedo or  dinateprocedit. Nam in humano uentre ex fufcepto uiri (e  mineprio embrione coagulat de quoSalon feptio capitulo  Sapientie fue ait g fum qmde 6C ego mortalis ho fimilis horni  Ilibus et ex genere terreno illius qui prior fadus elt dC in ue tre matris figuratus fumcaro.dece mcnfiu tepore cpagula  tasfum in fanguineex i femine hois ex delectamero fomnii  conuenientis &c#tera,Secundoquafiexquadamaflacoa  gulataincipitcarneaaia fcilicetfenfitiuaillu informans pro  pter quod dominus per lerenna cominatur fuperbo ifraefs  populo quafieoru mhileitateoftendendo dicens quali olla  in manu figuli ita 5C uos in manu dominhTertio in noinbf  finioaiaii hole quafi deficiens natura a domino carleflem di  uina^aiam expectatpropter qd‘ didu e quod genus lpius cilicetdei fumus perfedus tande inefle hois ho quafi libet  et fui dommnsifradns feris materni carceris in luce perdit#  &m potentia habens cuncta ut Bauitoiafubiecifti&csete  ra nnllius tamen perfectus poflefibr lingua habens et inte!  lectum: nec fatur nec ratiocinatur propter quod illius die  fui ctas infantia nominatunfecunda pueritia*tertia adolefce  tia qtaiuuetus qntagrauitas fexta fenecftus feptia decrepi  tas ultra q nihil hui^uitae expe&at nifi refolutio ad morte. Dmemoradum igitur totum hoiem 5C qua; accidut  ei fecundum oes aetates fic facilius monebitur mcmo  ria ut eft mota NATVRA ARS enim praheuntem pfequitur na  turam et eius prora dimiffa ucftigio calcato natura profeq  tur puppim et ipfa quafi duce pradieunte uelocius percurre  dam tranfuolatuiam Ecundusordo dicitur rationis ubi notandum eft q'<£  ratio uas eft omnibus calatu dC floridam uirtutib? ue  lut cadum ftellis interquasuelutdranaftella refulget puri?  Incidiufq3 iuftida ronalis em puer indignatur bolum accipere apparete a quo no ut decuit uultu ironicu afpexit* Ite con  uiuantibus uel in ecclefia conuenientibus uiris adultis ipfe  non alta fed humilia elligit fibi loca unde proportio iufticie  uidetur lucere in talibus*hinc et enim e qcf pnm^chori loc?  dat pape*fecudus cardinali terti9archiepo qurt9epo*qntus  Sacerdoti dignitate pradido/extuspriuato facerdoti*fepti  musdiacono*o&auusfubdiacono*non9acolito decim9 fer  uieti i ecclefia Ite prio lgator poft que rex e cui fuccedit dux  que feqtur marchio trahens poft fuos humeros comitem  cuius terga refpicies procedit eques cuius talis fequens gra  ditur armiger poft quem prsefto eft equi agitator illius *lte  primus menfe locus datur patri familias  Quinto ex uno latere secundus primo genito tertiust secundo genito ex aliola  tereprimus matrifamilias fecudus*prime nataru tert&fecfi  de«nataru*qrtus*£uo &C atfcille feqnti: nofces igitur ordine   huc&gradiensper ilifi ficiufto&redogradufactledinda  memorabit pg qdJ dicif q? gradatim rememoratesoes fci£  tias fm earu ordine uel £m ordinem q ipfas gcepcrut feu ac  quiliuerut facile memoratur eudaru unde et re khoare ob  litu in recitado peipitur puer unde Ariftoteles poft primi inquit motum natus eft fubfequi fecundus  Ertiusdicit artis ordo duos habes fontes uidelicet in  tellediuu fpeculatiuu et intellediuu pradicu q oge  et inquifitione unus cu fit multiplex nominat Rimus fons omnes fcietiasbC partes earum ordinat  unde prima fcie ntiarum dicitur gramaticaifundame  tihmeft aliam fcientiarum poftq eft fecunda polimita rhe/  torica dc hacfequif dialetica et ut huic fuccedit pBica Ite  prima partes ordinat na primo e fpeculatiua gramatica et  pofitiua lecudo dnogrophia tertio ethimologia qrto dia/  fintaftica 1 teprimo uol uit recognofcere nome fecudo uer.  bumJte primo philofophia phificoru librum ponit* fecun /  do iibrum de generatione et corruptione Ecundus fons cotinet oes mecanicas artes C pradiV  eas ordinationes ut eft medicinatars militaris dc architeduraJtearchitedOr primu fundametufcdoaula*iii cdclaue ordinati tedu fuppmu in quolibet igr illoru me/  moradoru fit memorati cognitio ordinis Ariftotelis q bene  iqt iuice ordiata ft bfi fut remifcibilia q uero malegrauiter Primum adminiculum Imilitudo igitur primum dicitur adminiculum quas  erit fecudu ordines et qualitates ut fi iudicis memora rico tingat Moyfen populi ifraeliticiiudicem praeoculis ha  bebisritem lufci dC caeci fuiphonizantem et fi ducis homin€  aureo clipeo uel argenteo capite circucintum ide Auerois  comehtator LIZIO aitcp memorari conringit propter  fuum fimile cuius Tignum apparet in reminifcentibus alicu  tus prateritipropter pnrfens fimile occurrens unde aiunt  modo uide cuius re minifcar propter finnlitudine auditi uer  bi uel uife rei uel modo uide cuius me facias remimfci»  Secundum adminiculum Ontrarietas fecundum dicitur adminiculum ubi no/  tandum eftq? quando res diuerforum ordinu et qua  litatum effent recitande in una oratione uel in una fententia  eloqnende tunc ordo fubfequens debet ede cotrarius ime  diate antecedenti ut fi uidelicet memoranda edent libertas  feruitus frigus edas diuitie paupertas pietas crudelitas iufti  cia impietas fic ut funt hic nominata ordinabis non aute di  ces libertas frigus feruitus cftas diuitie pietas paupertas cru  delitas:grauaretur enim memoria fic inordinate procedes  cuius ratio uidetur quia cum Boetius in libro de plpica coii  folatione dicat q? contraria non le copatiuntur adinuicem  imo iuxtafepofitanullomediomotum habet contrarium  8Coperatione ad inuice contrariam ficitaqp ficutmotu nui  lo medio ad inuice habet contrariu fic in memorado nullfi  aliud habendo uel querendo auxiliu mouebunt memoria:  ars enim imitatur naturam Tertium documentum Ota q? bona et ordinata ad unum principium memo  randorum reductio ad percurrendum illa memoria  faciet expeditam Exemptum B i notandu tn cfl g> eft aliud principium dicit gene  ralifllmu dC aliud q dicit umuerfaleu^comune fed no  ita ut primum dc aliud qp dicitur fub principium dc particula  ’ re hic (eruadus eft ordo ut traditu eft in capFode ordine igr  memoraturus totu et exercitu uel regalem gerarthia uel fa  • cerdotaledefcendedo ab imperatore uel rege uel papa inci  piam dc ad pncipes militia? duces dC cardinales principia co'  munia mediata quaprimu deucnia a quibus quafi reicipies  defeendaad particularia principiamidelicetcenturiones ba  rones dC epos:afcendedo uero ecotra faciedu eftdicuu facili  us memorabor oes intermedios inter papa dc eardinales dC  hos dc epos 6C eos q lub ipfis iuntjcogmtis horum dignitate  ordine 5C numero N oratione aut recitada fit terna qfi imperator dc pn/  cipiumgeneraliftimu diuifioprima qfidux SCprinci/  piucoe:fubdiuifiouero’quaGdux dC principiu particulare  fi aut ( p fe eet recitada plixior trifaria di uideda eft SC ad pri/  cipia diuifionis recurrcdu eft uidelicet fi eet principiu orationis omne hoium genus &c*mediu at cognito o ciues egre  gii dominiohui? et regno reru exterioru confumatio uero  orationis fermonis 8C profie:quom ois fpledor ornatus non  fi t ab h iis qua: terrena nubila paret fed ab hiis q a \ucx ai& p  deunt:ad lpfam refulgurateuirtute dC ad ipfam aiam inter /  noru acie ueftroru extollite oculoru:igitur r pprincipio me  morare omne r p fecudo uero cognito dC r p tertio:quom ofs  dC cetera unde dC poetice did:um eft:fcire ii uis hanc rem to  ta fit fepata minuti :& alibi ut qbufda placet tria diuifio fiat Ratio Vom aut ut ! teftatur Ariftoteles oe agens in telledlua  le intedat fmem defideratum in quo adipifcedo fpes    coftituitur quo adepto gaudifi operlti acqritur i uxta illud  fpesq differtur affiigitaiam:Iignu uit^defiderium ueniens  luncigit lecius pcedet memoria ad fine memoradoru quu  &ciarius 6i < ppinqus&faciliusfibi illu uidcrit acquirendu  hoc aut fiet in affecutione primoru principiorum* Gregori  us n inquitq?cognitio futurorum eft exibitio pteritorum  apprehenfio*n*finis ultimi uon fiet nifi meliis finibus comp  henfis:ubi nota q> ad unum fmem ultimum multi interme  dii fines ordinanf ut ad fanitate pocula et medulla et ad ue/  neranda caniciem pueritia atq$ iuuetus:exilaraca igitur memoria percurrit ufcp ad ultimum fine:poft primorum adep  . tionc:& {pes fibi oritur de ultimo fine adtpifcedo primis ade  ptis 8<quafi{blitafuturaetfitde fine ultimo acquirendo fi<  bi uidtoria casterisaliistnuphatis.ite paufadoi finib? fterme  diis a quolibet furges i fequete eudo ualidi? ad curreda uia  fuccincla confurget. Primum adminiculum Rimum igitur adminicula caufalitasdicir«eftm*ip{a  recitandimfoluendi globi orationis initium et caput  fonfq* habens ad oes riuulos uiam quafi caufain uirtute co/  tiiiens oes effectus ca ante qua: in fe eft una folet efte pluriu  effectuum et quom fitbreuior numero facilius eft memoy  rice retinenda cix aut multae funtpqbus cognofcedis Ari  fto.& j>cli legeda ft opa et fefti do&orisa argumetatoib? ue"  ro ut petit dilatio tua a nob illi fieri claru ca e medi? termini  qi priaargumedpponefuit uii Aruth^picoruuiidargume  tatoib? iqtroportet ppoes memorabili* (cire:fi at cupit duar  tio tua fcire iuetoe medii termini r p argrmetatoe uide q de  ea feripf t fetus do&or Thomasde aqno,pauca*n*6cbreuia  cu lint faciliter memoria: coni mendabun tur*   Secundum adminiculum* f Ecundum adminiculumdicimrprincipiorum deter'  natioubifciedue q? fi plura nomina eflent recitanda  utputa centum uel plura edent illa ad paricularia principia  reducenda quinaria huius ratio ex tam dictis tradita uidet quom»n»perinteIlec3:us manum reponant in archa tnemo  riacreminifirendaficut natura qua ars imitatur quinq* digi  tos manui tribuit itaurcp fafciculuqqe Itelledus manus me  moria: tradit conuenienter fieri dicamus quinarium IV documentum Otaq?potiffimumeftquartum& ultimum docume  tum quidem dicitnr fepiflfima memoratio unde Ari/  ftotcles meditationes inquit memoriam (eruant»  Exemplum»   Am pueri poftq didicerin t ledionem recitanda mag  ftroadhuc multoties illa rememorant pp qd Seneca  dixit memoria nihil perdit nifi quod fepe non refpicit»  Ratio Vom fit comunis fententiaphilofophantiumoium  ex frequentatis adtibus habitu generari : habitus aut  ut Ariftoteles teftatur intellectuales &i fcientia: fint dediffi  cili mobiles no gdit memoria q fepe uideritad (e conuerfa Primum adminiculum Dmimculum primum premium dicitur laboriofus  eni aJioru documetorut e quom fit ergo ho finis ulti /  mus horu oiutn maximu etprimu expe&at fuoru laboru»  oes»n.ita(etiut:q7oislaborpmiuoptet:q>e diuer(u fecudu  magnitudine et prauitateaioru memoratiu:rci»f»pmii ueri  tatem:& uanitatemobferuantiumnam homunculi cxterio  rum bonorum mercedem expedantnfii femetipfos in con  temptionem:obiiciut: pluris enim illa quamuitam fuam    hciut 5C tamen illa futpuitahois et n 5 hofs uita $ itfis: It€  luxuriofi corporalia bona rcfpicunt casci ifti apparet :domi  nu*n*uitc mortalium duceqpaium fubdiderut corporis fer  uituti quom p aiam corpus &nop corp^aia uiua fit, Ifti inp  nofcendis cantilenis et in memoradis gemetis amoris terre  ni (ingultibus ut carnalem mente moueat et ad carnalia de  (lderia ftudet quid ftolidius iftis qnrp futuris lachiymis pre  fentes emittunt 8C,p futuro luctu gemitus nunc dare cogu/  tur hos quidem (equitur acies tertia magorudentis ifti oes  funtafpiciedi palpebris ut qui ad fe ipfos nunq propriu con  uerterut internu necafpectum alioru ad fe trahere ualeant  etiam externum*   Agtianimi ucro eternam fuorum laborum ppofuere  mercede inter quos difteminata eft zinzania ut aliqui  ipforu ppria apparete mercede cupietes gloriam ip(a pdat  alii uero inquarreda gloria ignominia detineat ppetuam iu  xta illud fi ego gloria itiea quxro gloria mea nihil eft. Sed  eft pater meus qui glorificat me:quapropter apoftolus ad/  monet dices omnia in gloria dei faeitc:& iteru regi (eculo  rum immortali et inuifibili foli deo honor et gloria in fecu  la feculoruame*ipfe gloria eft uirtutu*& dominus nec cui  uir tutis gratiam dederit abfcj gloria fcilicet effectu gratia:  uagari tandem permittet inglorium in quo cum fumma  confiftat felicitas cu illi preditus uirtute apparueris te ipm  puta felicem fit igitur beatitudoobiectum tuum quam ap  petut^qua omnes Iaborat:& fic lemper et promptus eris  ad memorandu et memorando felix*   Secundum adminiculum*   Bftractio a meditatione rerum impertinentiu fecun  dum dicitur adminiculum pluribus SC enim intetus    BfiSofcft ac! fiiiguTa fenflis S^anrtoteleiJiiquit tp fenfusad  plura intentus ad minima fninimus efthaxigitur uir huma  tiiffimede nutrienda atep iuueda memoria ut uoluimus ex  preallegatoru doctorufcriptis legentes in dilectionis tue ca  lato a dominatione tua intrudenda cotulimus iocunda igi  tur oblata manu caritas tua fufeipiat pro quibus offeredis  concito ea atq? letanti percuretes gradu ad calce dedimus   Annodbmini*Nl»cccclxxvi,indicti6eu'iiuDie uero*xvxY  decembris Regnate SeremHlmo 8c liluftriflmio domino  noftro»D*Ferdmado Dei gratia rege Sicilie Hierufalem et  hungarie 6C cetera Regiorum uero cius Anno«xviii.Foelici  ter amem Valeperitufqg in multis in iftis etiam fufeipe uires ame i V ARMY MEDICAL LIBRARY   Cleveland. De nutrienda memoria. Carpanis. Keywords: chiave universale. Refs.: Luigi Speranza, “Grice e Carpanis” – Carpanis.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carrara: implicatura conversazioale e arte combinatoria razionale -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Bergamo). Filosofo italiano. De omnibus ingentis augendae memoriæ ad prestantissimum virum Aloisium Manentem incliti Venetorum Senatus Secretarium. Impressum Bononiæ per me Platonem de Benedictis civem bononiensem, regnante inclito principe domino Iohanne Bentivolio, secundo anno incarnationis, dominicc die XXIHI Januarii. Al testo di C. attinge largamente, senza citare l’autore, GRATAROLI nei suoi Opuscula dedicati alla memoria, Basilea. Su C. cfr. TIRABOSCHI (vedasi), Storia della letteratura. De omnibus ingentis. Primum est ordo et reminiscibilium consequentia. Cum cam didicimus ex ordine cum connectione et dependentia si aliquo eorum erimus obliti, facile, repetito ordine, reminisci poterimus. Alterum est ut et uno simili in suum simile pro- memoria locale -- fondato sulla suddivisione in V parti del corpo degli animali," il saggio di C. è filosoficamente e storicamente importante perché mostra la stretta connessione che venne a stabilirsi, all’interno di una certa tradizione aristotelica del LIZIO, fra arte della memoria e medicina. Richiamandosi a Galeno e ad Avicenna C. affronta, in primo luogo, il problema di una localizzazione della memoria. Passa poi a discutere delle principali malattie che ostacolano l’uso della memoria. Si sofferma ad esporre una serie di regole concernenti l’uso di cibi e bevande, il sonno e il moto. Giunge finalmente alla formulazione di un vero e proprio ricettario. All’idea di una terapeutica della memoria, già presente nel Regimen aphoristicum di Arnaldo da Villanova, e diffusa nella medicina medievale, si richiama, accanto a C., anche Matteolo da PERUGIA (si veda) che pubblica un opuscolo di medicina mnemonica. In entrambi i saggi è non a caso assai frequente il ricorso ad Avicenna. La tesi sostenuta da C. che l’umdità è di ostacolo alla memoria è per esempio già presente nei testi del medico arabo -- qui autem habent locum dominatum humiditate non rememorant, quia formæ non finguntur in humido -- ma il saggio di C. a differenza di quello di Matteolo e degl’altri già presi in esame, appare fondato su numerosissime letture. Oltre ai già noti classici della memoria, comparivano qui i nomi di Galeno, BOEZIO (si veda), Ugo da San Vittore, Giovanni Scoto e Averroè. vehamur: ut si Herodoti obliviscamur de LIVIO (vedasi) recordati latinæ historiæ patre, in Grecæ historia patrem Herodotum producemur. Tertium est ut contraria recogitemus ut memores Hectoris, reminiscimur Achillis. De omnibus ingentis. Il passo può esser letto nella trascrizione che ne ha dato TOCCA. Si veda per esempio: Tractatus clarissimi philosophi et medici Matheoli perusini de memoria et reminiscentia ac modo studendi tractatus feliciter. L'opera insiste sul regime da seguire in vista della buona memoria. Sull’autore cfr. TiraBoschi, Storta della letteratura. Averrois Cordubensis, Compendia librorum Aristotelis qui parva naturalia vocantur, in Corpus Comm. Av. in Arist., Cambridge (Mss.). Alberti carrariensis de omnibus Jobannis Ingeniis augende memorie: ad prestatissimu virum Alouisium Manentem Inclyti Venetorum Senatus Segretarium libellus foeliciter incipit. IM I tibi debeo : respicias Clarissime Alo que uisi ; nullius profecto momenti erunt possillons manuscula nostra : ei enim : cui cúcta debeam : nulla merces digna rependi potest : Verum siqualia ea sint inspexeris : si quo animo data sint libeat intue / ri : hoc negocium tuo patronatu non indignum iudicabis : Scripsi mus enim de nutrienda memoria breuem tractatulum : necessaria quidem (ni fallor) continentem : precipuaqs subsidia: que ppagare alii scriptores noluere conscripsimus: hunc ad te quidem mitto: cui tamen et memoria: et ratio: et integritas abunde suppetit. Sed tua gratia hec ceteris imptio: Neq3 gg Veneri senatus secreta tra ctes: hunc secreto tenendum: sed prius corrigendum: mox propa gandum ceteris. Bene Vale: et tui Michaelis Carrariésis memor esto: qui omnium memor esse foles. Libri Vnici de memoria Incipit Cap.primum BIBLIOTHECA Emoria inter diuina humane nature commoda Teste meo seneca: primum sibi locum usurpa 10 REGIA uit: Nam multa legere ftudiofis facile: multa MONAMENTS quoq itelligere bono: atqs exercitato igenio no difficile eft: Verum ea congerere: et in fcrinie memorie conferuare ita: ut non effluant neceffa rium: ac precipuum eft humane uite bonum: ut teftatur PLINIO (vedasi). Quis enim non admil retur: quod Cicero dicit fecundo ad herenium: quarüqs: aut legeri mus: aut audiuerimus ipfo ordine reddere: ut propemodum nihil noftra interfit a mediotan a calce: an ab exordio icipiamus: aut qs non admiretur Carneadem grecum: bibliotece qui uolumina mel moriter legentis more reprefentauit.at ne huic noftre etati inuide amus Francifcus fofcari dux Venetiarum inclitus tanta memol ría fuit: ut quecüqs toto fui regni tempore egerit dixeritq: ca cum effet opportunum repetat: hominum q3nomina: et tempora quibus ea gerebantur fine difcrimine comemoraret: eiufdé quoq; fenatus Senator clariffimus Dominicus Georgio tenaciffima memoria fapientie uberrime copulauit, In porandis enim caufis: et multos audire aduerfarios: et eis ipfo rerum ordine feruato refpondere fo let. Cyrus omnes fuos milites nominatim appellabat. mitridates duarum et uiginti gentium rex totidem linguis abfqs interprete: et audiebat; et alloquebatur. Cyrum igitur Frácifco: Mitridatem Dominico comparemus: et inueniemus habere tpa noftra: quo fu Igitur iis quibus perbiant nibile prifcis fe inferiora putent. non eft tam precipua memoria laborare opportet ut cá affequatur fine qua uix in uirum excellentem quifq emergit: fieri enim folet ut qtum quifq; memoria emineat: tantum eniteat et fapientia: nifi fit fomnolentus atqp ociofus. Poete enim nó abre fapientiam mel morte filiam finxerunt: et rectiffime Affranius de gignenda comp andap fapientia fcripfit hiis uerfibus. Vfus me genuit: mater peperit memoria. Sophiam me uocant greci: Vos Sapientia. Quo igitur Ingenio ca acquiri: augeriq; poffit hoc noftri opis loco di feramus Placuiffe conftat Ciceroni memoria habere quidda artificii: et non omnem a natura pficifci: Sicigitur et nos prius de artificiofa memoria: que locis: imaginibus conftat agamus. poftea doceamus quo medicamine et acquiri ac folidari poffit: et breuia quidem fed clara: et expertiffima ponemus. Locale memoriam primus omnium inueniffe traditur Simonides medi cus: Verum inuentam multo diligentius excoluiffe Metiodorus. Sunt autem: ut Ariftotili placet duo actus memorationis: memot ria.f. et reminifcentia: qq reminifcentia refpiciat ea qbus fumus obliti: fitqs extimatiue uirtutis officium: non principaliter me ! moratiue: ut Auerois: et Albertus in fuis tractaculis uoluere: bec autem fine prefentia obiecti in homine folo cft. Nam cum obiecti prefentia etiam reperitur in brutis: ut dicit Arifto.et in ca ne uenatico fatis patet. Memoria eft retétio ymaginum prius ab anima perceptarum: que tamen neq3 atilis eft: nifi et omnes re tineat: et co ordine quo eas concepit reddat.hec uero nec prefent tium neq futurorum eft. fed ut dicit Ariftotiles preteritorum tátů Igitur fi philofophorum fententias interius perfcrutemur ad me morandum quattuor motus concurrunt, C Primum eft motus fpirituum qui a cogitatiua ad memoratiua m figuras tranfportat Alterum eft pictura fixioq figurarum in ipfa memoratiua. Tertium eft reportatio earum a fpiritibus a memoratiua ad co gitatiuam. CQuartum illa eft actio qua cas cogitatiua recogno fcit: que proprie eft memorari.ad cuiuflibet harum quattuor rerú defectum neceffe eft deficere et memoratióem: Quapp Ifaac Sal lamonis filius bene memoriam diffiniuit: Quod fit apprehéfio in anima exiftentium rerum cum indagatione et inquifitione: Veri de ca copiofius bic agemus ubi de medicinalibus auxiliis fiet mél tio. Nunc: artificio prius memoria inftituentes: que opporteat de fe preftare uolentem memorari prefcribemus: Sunt enim precepta.xx. Primum eft: ut quecunq3 fequuturi fumus ftu dia ca preftantiffima pulcherimaq diiudicemus: in hocq3 nos feli ces iudicemus: fi eam difciplinam abunde fuerimus confequuti: neq3 omnem audiemus preceptorem: fed excelentem dumtaxat qualem non modo laudare: sed etiam cogamur admirari: In qua re profundiffime fapientie confiliun fuit Philippi Macedonis: qui prima etiam rudimenta litterarum uoluit Alexandrum ab Ariftol tile doceri: fic enim fieri folet: ut cum preceptorem difcipulus qua fi animiatqs ingenii patrem ueneratur; dum eius graues miratur fentétias Errigatur in animo appetitus fitisq; difcendi: qui gene rofi inuidia appellari folet: q plurimum ad perfici édú habet iuua menti.Recte ergo CICERONE (vedasi) scripsit secundo ad Hereniu que in pue ricia fufcipiuntur recte reminifci: quia nulla nifi re noua et admil rabilli commouetur animus: quod fcripfit: et Commentator his uerbis.homo memoratur multoriens quod fecit in puericia bona rememoratióe: quia illa eras multú amat formas et figuras et mul tum cis delectatur: figuntur igitur in eis bene et propterea difficile dimittuntur: hác ob rem omnium fapientum dux optimus LIZIO fcientiam de anima bonum honorabile in principio fermóis nuncupauit: ut excitaret ingenium: q ea bona precipue defiderari foleant. Caueant igitur parentes: ne illis filios dédant ftu diis: que ingrata illis effe cognouerint. Alterum eft ut eam fcientiam difficilem perpaucis q3 bene cognitam exiftiment. Sed illituiffe fententias ambiguas: quas extricare per pauci homines norint cofurgere oportet ingeniu: opportebitqs ut in eas penetret: hec uerò animi erectio memorie perutilis eft. CTertium eft; ut fiue audiat; fiue legat tota id faciat attentione: omnes cp animi uires cógreget: nec cas fparfim errare patiatur: que enim attétius didicerimus ea nó facile dilabétur: hic enim fit: ut Ariftotiles dicit: ut in loco: que femel atterite audita funt lógius in memoria permaneant: q que cum negligentia funt multotiens audita.Recte itaq ACCADEMIA in principio thymei probum auditorem fub filentio fcripfit: mentem; atqs aures comparare. Ille enim tefte tuo CICERONE eft docilis auditor: qui attéte paratus eft audire: quafi actus actiuorum in difpofito patiente effe conueniat.  Attentio enim mentem ad doctrinam bene difponit.  Cóferuari nequeut nifi que preintellecta funt: Nam et a Gorgia fapiéter eft dictum: et a meo TERENZIO fapientius repetitum: Vbi intenderis ingenium ualet. Quartum eft: ut que multa collecturi fumus: qtum fieri poteft ad paucitatem: breuitatemqs reducamus. Nam ut patet fi to pichorum uniuerfales propofitiones in memoria habuerimus: fal cile erit ex eis ad particulares materias argumenta formare. Vgo names in didafchalione dixit: aliter adifcentem pcedere: aliter me moraturum. Ille enim qui difcit: genus feccat in fpecies: et eas rurfus in alias: ufqp ad fpecialiffima. memorantem auté opportet multitudinem colligere in unum; aut falté in pauca. Habet.n. ois oratio fuper quam fondetur bafim.eam decet notare: et conclu fióem quá ex ea deduxit modú aut deductióis facile qs in memoria reuocabit; fi bafim ipfá: cóclufióemqs tenebit; na et Gallienus primo tegni Cap.primo: facile inquit omnia memorabilia funt ex termini diffolutione. Quintum eft; ut rerum ordo ante omnia diligat ut fi tertium uerbi gratia canonem collecturi fumus: fciamus duas er. xx, fen.cffe: earuq ordinem ab ipfo corpore heis re ceptum. Primam fen in tractatus fectam comprehédemus.Primú deinceps tractatú in capitula: capitula in ciclufiones feccabimus: et fic earú ordiné cóftruemus: ret ipfe doctrine ordo dabit ordiné: quía prior in alteram ordinatur. Sextum eft: quod a Ciceróe et.M.fabio. Quintiliano eft traditum; ut fingula fepe repetantur: ucluti: ut in priore exemplo uerfemur: cum poft primum capitulu alterum didicerimus: et primi: et fecundum animo repetamus: cú didicerimus tertiu; et primum; et alterú cum tertio nihilominus repetemus: atq3 ita deinceps: donec totum tractatum teneamus. CSeptimú eft; ut cum multa complecti uolumus; ea membratim feccemus. Nam dicit in rethoricis MARZIANO. ne confufa multitudo ebetet memoriam id fieri decere. Octauú quod BOEZIO (vedasi) docuit in fuo de fcolaftica difciplina: Erit fréqués ac diuturna de cadem re cogitatio: atqs difputatio. Nam fi differendo aut capias aduerfarium: aut capiaris ita ut aut laudem affequaris: aut uitupe rium.infcribetur id ipfum demum ita in animo: ut nequeas etiam fi uolueris oblitterare.que precipue cum obbrobio: et erubefcen ! tia difcuntur fixiora funt; eamqs ob caufam mens tenaciffima eft iniuriarum. Mira igitur laus fuit Cesaris: qui nullarü rerum nifi iniuriarum immemor fuit. proderit igitur uerfari cum hominibus confimilium ftudiorum: et de eis affidue difputare. Nihil.n.met moria perdit: nifi ad quod fepe non refpexit; ut ait Seneca quarto de beneficiis. Et Vgo principium in lectione fcribit effe confidera tionem et confirmationem in meditatione. Verbum etiam Arifto. eft. meditationes memoriam faluare.eft aut meditari aliquid mul totiens fpeculari; non ut ipfum eft: fed ut ymago alicuius: et apud Ptolomeum in principio almagefti.meditatio ueritatis eft clauis. Nonum eft: quod Beatus Thomas imperat in epiftola ad fratrem ftudentem: ut per ea: que non intelligimus nó uolitemus; fed ca prius intelligamus: q curramus i pofteriora: neq3 ita curandu eft: ut multa legamus: qut multa intelligamus. CDecimü eft: quod Quintilianus auctoritate Platonis fcripfit libro xi.de inftit tutione oratoris.ut.f.non obfint memorie littere: ne que fcriptis repofcimus uelut cuftodita definamus: et litterarum fecuritate di mittamus. Vndecimum quod idemptidem Quintiliani eft: ut ciborum bona digeftio procuretur: ut que obfunt memorie fugiaf mus: que ei conferunt in ufu fint: de quibus fuo loco ( qtum fatis eft ) tractabimus. Duodecimum eft: ut animum ab aliis cogita tionibus: qtum fieri poteft liberemus. folent enim ea precipue gra tia bene memorari religiofi; ut Gordonio placuit: quia pofiti in fo litudine minus uariis cogitationibus diftrahútur. C Tertiumdel cimum eft: ut fi fieri poteft ea non folu audiamus: fed et uideamus que in memoria habenda funt.dicit enim Ariftotiles: quod femel uidentes magis memorantur: q eafdem multotiens audiétes. pro pterea confulebat Guido pater meus: ut fimplicia: que legédo dif fceremus etiam oculis fi fieri poffet afpiceremus: fic enim fieri fo let ut non facile effluerent. Quartumdecimum eft: ut de rebus fingulis interrogati non confeftim: et abfq3 meditatione refpódca mus; fed prius queramus per arculam memorie noftre: qd: quali terep fit refpondédum: quia damafcenus particula fecunda aphorifmo quarto dicit. Siinterogatus femp uelociter refpódeas dubi tandus es, in cuius comento dicit Remigius: quia refponfionem fubitam inconfideratam effe opportet. Nemo auté abfqp confider ratione poteft effe precipuus. Qiutum decimum eft ut quia tefte Quintiliano libro primo.non poteft abnegari differentia inge niorum. Alterüc altero plus poffe nemo dubitat: metiatur unus quifqs uires fuas: et ut dicit Paulus apoftolus probet fe ipfum: ta tumq ingerat memorie fae: qtum ea capere: et tenere poteft.ucluti ftomachum inutile eft fupra eius uires onerare: fed tantum con uenit accipere: qtum poteft concoquere: et propter hoc non impin guatur corpus gulofi: quia quod comeditur non nutrit: nifi diges ratur. Ita qd difcitur; nifi retineatur paru prodeft: cum de huis: q legimus: aut uidimus id folum fcire uideamur: quod memoriter fcimus.adduci poffet illud Oratii carmen. Summite materiam uc ftris: qui fcribitis equam Viribus; uerfate diu: quid ferre recufet Quid ualeant humeri.quod fi altero peccádum eft: me cófultore: tutius eft minus: q nimis accipere, Vert ut in ftomaci fimiliradie uerfemur, fi quis qtum opportet retinere non ualeat: numerú mul tiplicet: et continuam imminuat quitatem. Decimumfextum eft: ut høre certe ftudio decernátur. Ille precipue: qbus et uacuus eft ftomacus: et ingenium uaporibus non obtenebratum; eroia tenet filentiu. Igit cóticinia: et matutini galli catus eligatur: cure musq: ne temporum rationem fortunae motus infrigát: quomi nus: quas decreuimus ftudio horas in co non abfoluamus. Nam fi Cefar Auguftus in bello Mutinenfi legere quotidie: et feribere folebat.fi Iulius Cefar: que die gefferat.cum orbem pacauit: ca noctu furtiuis lucubrationibus fcribebat et precipue tanta cu eler gantia: ut a Quintiliano libro decimo cap.primo Mire laudetur: Quid obfecro poterit: quid ing poterit urbano ocio internenire: quod nos a ftudio abducat litterarum. Decimumfeptimumi é: ut lucra quottidiana unufqfqs recenfeat: quottidieqs cogitet: quid didicerit noui: quid ue lucratus fit: proderit.n. plurimum ad pfici endum. Sapiens cenfurinus CATONE (vedasi) qcquid die feciffet: et legiffet: dixiffetqs ucfperi commemorabat. Socrates etiam id rpis perdidif fe fe putabat: quo fibi: aut aliis nó profuiffet. Recenfceamus igit et nos diurnos labores noftros: ut nobis demum; et pofteritati pro deffe ualeamus. Decimumoctauum eft: ut incipiamus adbuc paruuli memoriam exercere: hec.n.ueluti gladius; nifi exerceatur rubigine confumitur: Erit igitur hec parentum: et preceptorú dili gétia: ut prima etas exerceatur. Nam quo fuerit imbuta recens feruabit odorem: Tefta diu: et ueluti de cibo prediximus Ita puu lis pauca didiciffe fat erit: cüqs adolefcent: et difcédorú copia crefcat: neq tamé: ut placuit Quintillano: flagellis: aut uerberibus cogantur: fed preponantur premia: laudes q3 pro meritis: in loco ét fupra merita afferantur. Decimünonum eft: ut fi laxadus fit animus: quo poftea integrior: fortiores confurgat.non in ob fcenis rebus uerfet: fed mutato id fiat ftudio. Remittere.n.animu q amittere melius eft: ut fcribit AUSONIO aut ergo ad litteralia alia ftudia tranfeundum eft: aut ad muficalia exercitia: que; utauctor eft Emilius probus grecis in magno honore erant: apd nos quoq3 non cótemptui habentur. Sed funt: qui ludere malint: quod pati et poffem: fi honeftas fit lufus.fi fine fraude, fi fine iureiura do.fi breuis.fi premia: aut nulla: aut exigua proponantur. ad fym bolú magis: q ad ditandum accómodata: neq3 taxilli interueniat: aut alius buiufcemodi lufus: in quo plus iuris fortua habeat: q in genium, Exercent.n.et ludi memoriam. SCEVOLA (vedasi) aliquando ludo xii.fcruporum lufit: cüq3 prior calculum pmouiffet; effetq; uictus dum rus tendit repetito totius certaminis ordine quo loco erraffet recordatus ad eum reddiit: qui conluferat. I fqs ita factum effe có feffus eft.faciät idem et noftri interdum adolefcentes: Verü neq3 diuturna: neq3 frequens fit ea exercitatio: neq ca hora: que ftudiis debetur: moxq confirmato ingenio reuolét ad ftudia. Vigeffi mum eft: ut nó anteq deceat a preceptoribus diftrahantur. Ait.n. Hyeronimus fe credere p multos in uiros claros euadere potuift fe: nifi prius difcipulos effe puduiffet: q fapere cepiffent. Tam diu igitar preceptorem audiemus: q diu co preceptore nos pficere in telligemus. Itaqs eum: ut ingenii patrem uenerabimur: lateri ad i heremus: ut et CICERONE (vedasi) dicit.quoad fieri poterit: et licebit ab eius latere nunq difcedemus: quippe: ut fiamus eius prefétia doctiores nullus q fit.tam durus baculus: qui nos ab eo reppellat. proderit tamen uiciffim: que didicerimus alios docere; proderit et dictare et declarare: et interrogare et refpódere. Dubitareqs de fingulis: dum id fine ratione non fiat non erit inutile: et optare: ut quotti 1 die aligd excudamus: quod fit ppetuo noftrú: neq3 id Plinii in epiftolis nos lateat: q alia omnia alium atq3 alium patronum poft nos habitura funt. Caftigariq non modo nó egre ferat: fed amerz etuiciffim caftigare affuefcat: Verum in caftigatione modus habé dus é.ne.f.cú uituperatióe: aut caftigati infamia fiat: fed mitius honeftius: clariusq3: qfieri poffit. Intelligat magna te eius pie 1 tate ductum: ut errata caftiges.Hec funt quidem: ni fallor; prece pta difcendi: que fi diligenter obferuabuntur pdeffe plurimú adol lefcentibus omnibus poterút: obeffe nullis. Nunc de artificio fa agamus memoria: quod faciemus ubi precepta reminifcentie ab Ariftotelle collecta prius fcripferim ?. Sunt at quinqs. I est ordo: et reminifcibilium confequentia.cum eam didicer rimus ex ordine cum conexione: et dependentia fi aliquo eorum erimus obliti facile repetito ordine reminifci poterimus. Scito enim atecedéte facile fciemus et cófequs: et depditú inueníemus: Recte igitur dicit philofophus. Quebene inuicem ordinata func bene reminifcibilia: que uero male grauiter: Ná quo ordine pri us ref apprehéfe für: et cófiderate ab aia co ordine fe habét motus hoc é impreffióes facte ab anima. Motuum autem ordo: et cófequé tia că é reminifcédi ex primo.n.motu reminifcimur fecúdi:, hoc aut patet in pueris primo adifcétibus alphabetum: qui ipfo littera ru ordie reddere interdum fciút: ordine uero cómutato nó fciüt: unde ét precipere folemus: ut repetat principia; et p ea defeédát Alterú eft: ut et uno fimili in fuú fimile prouehamur.ut fi her rodoti obliuifcamur de Tito liuio recordati latie hyftorie patre: in grece hyftorie patrem herodotum pducemur. Tertiú eft: ut con traria recogitemus.pea.n.in loco docemurea: quorú obliti fum " cótraria: ut memores hectoris reminifcimur achilis. CQuartú é: ut loci ubi res tractata é: tpis q reminifcamur.fic et pfóe et câe pp qua ea fecimus reminifci cótigit: Vnde beatus Augu.fua peccata recogitare uoléti hec recéfere pcipit. locus.n.apd arift.pncipiú é reminifcedi. Quitů pceptú é: uta ppetare res repetat ut fi fagi nati memoria habere uelimus: d dionifio fyracufão recogitemus qut auctor é Iuftin'pre fagina uifü pdidit. fi caballi equ recéfea mus: aut doloris capitis; quo fepe propter ebrietaté affligitur; aut alicuius rei fimilis: ex qua facile reminifcétia nafcetur. Verum cú de figuris erit oratio: plura: que adhanc rem pertinent afferemus. Iam de memoria incohemus. Artificiofa memoria; ut Cicero dicit fecúdo ad hereniu: ex locis: ueluti ex cera; aut tabella: et ima ginibus: ueluti figuris litterarum conftat: Sic enim fieri poteft: ut que accepimus quafi legentes reddamus: neq multum interfit an a uertice an a calce incipiamus: locos ipfos ordinatos effe oportet: Nam fi in eis confufio fit confundatur omnia neceffe eft, multos etiam eos effe decet: ut multa locari cadem exercitatione poffint. Cicero cétum cos fatis effe iudicauit. Beatus Thomas plures habendos confuluit.hos multi uariis artibus quefiere: Metiodorus in fignis duodecim: p que fol meat: tercenos: et fexagenos inuéit locos. tot gradibus apud aftrologos obliquus ille circulus fecca ri foleat, Verum auctore Quintiliano. Vanitas fuit iftius philofol phi: atq3 iactatio in fua memoria potius arte q natura gloriantis Marcus CICERONE (vedasi) familiarem domum effinxit: locis difcretam mul ! tis: placuite uiro illuftri; ut inter locorü fingula quinaria; uel ma num auream: uel aliud quid difcrimen fingeremus: quo alter ab al tero fecernatur; in eis q3 immobilem ordinem haberi; ut femp dex tra et ingrediamur et egrediamur: fingi enim figure poterút: neq erit difficile; ut fuis locis figantur. Guido pater meus ex animal libus cepit locos fuos: et eorú ordiné ex alphabeto latino deduxit: ut a fingula littera unius animalis nomen incoharetur: perinde ac finoia hec fint. A asinus. B basiliscus C canis D draco E Elephas F Faunus G Griph H Hyrcus I Iuuéca L Leo M Mulus N Noctua O Ouis P Panthera Q Qualea R Rynecheron S Simia T Taurus vel Tigris V Vrsus X xiftus. Philofophus Y Yena Z Zacheus. hec fingula in quinque locos diuidebat in capur: in anteriores pedes; in uétrem: in posteriores pe des, et in caudam. Nam hunc ordinem ipfa natura porrexit: neqs confundi in eis enumerandis ingenium poteft.fic itaq3 centum et qndecim locos nactus; in eis rerú memorabilium ymagines ( cul pebat: ac ét in loquentis facie multa ingenio fcribi precipiebat: in capillis in frote: in oculis: ficq feorfum ad pedes defcendi: mibi uero facilimum uidetur: non modo centum fed propemodum infi nitos locos effingere: cu neminé lateat fitus ciuitatis originalis: Igitur cú p portá mens ingreditur: dum feccans fe ad diuerfas regiones: uias confiderat: due amicorum domos: edes deorú: pre toria publica repetit miram locorum qtitatem affequetur, Accedet ad hoc poteftas atria effingendi in quibus qrum libeat numerum locorum faciet: ut infcribi quecunq; uoluerit poffint.de locis igi ! tur fatis hec fint. Nunc de figuris differamus Earum quoq3 exercitatio preceptis feptem abfoluetur. Primum eft: ut aut rifum moueat figura; aut mifericordiam aut admiratióem.hec.n. facit etiam puellas recordari ut inquit Auicena fexto naturalium particula quarta. facile enim inuenitur quefita figura que affectu anime cómouerit: exemplum hoc eft.in ore afini rabidi caput An tonii conftitua morfibus fere offa cófringi. cruorem effluere illu auxilia petere.et paffis palmis uociferare.fieri non poterit. ut cum uoluero non uideam bunc oculis mentis mee: et reddere Antoniu nefcia repetéti. Alterú é.ut aut fimile p fimile aut p cótrariù fi gurem aut p, pprietaté. pmi exéplú eft: ut fi nomé Auicéne fim lo caturus. Alicuius illuftris medici nomen fcribá: cuius aut par fit aut paulo debilior auctoritas. fecüdi exemplum eft. fi idem per in docti medici nomen cum irrifioe cófcripfero.fi Terfitem p Achillem bonum per malum.informem per formofu annotauero. Exé plum tertii eft.fi Ouidium per magnum nafum Platonem per hu merum amplitudinem. Crifpum per anulatos capillos. Cicerone per Gelafinu fculpfero.quin ipfa nominis origo. ipfa declinatio facere ad tenendum aliquid poteft. Tertium eft ut a tenellis unguiculis affuefcamus locare: et cum quotidiana exercitatione crefcamus.qq etiam adultis prodeffe folet ifta doctrina.efficacior quoq3 fiet habitus fi quecus aut dictari aut facturi funt: ficlocent quecúqs etiam inter confabulandum audiunt fic pingant. mores geftus temporaq3 fculpant. fcio enim breui tempore fient exercita fiffimi, ludere etiam prodeft alterum cum altero: illum uincere qui plura clarius ordinatius uelociusq; retulerit Quartum eft ut omni quinario rerum fignadarum repetamus a principio ea qnq fignata: folet enim repetitio ad memoriam ualde conferre. V eft, ut que non funt fimplicià ea per componentium fimilitudines ftatuamus uerbi caufa.qui memorari uoluerit hu ius enunciationis. CICERONE (vedasi) cum ortenfio difputauit. Cicer lel gumen in orto fingam quod de orti fterilitate coqueratur.fic.n. et Cicer. CICERONE (vedasi) et ortus ortenfium: et querella difputationé reprefentat: Sic enim feruari folent: et capita legum: ut fi locanda illa lex fit publicati femel teftaméti fides.effingemus dică teftame talé patenté: cui quifpia cenum iniecerit: ut eius ftdes aboleretur. ecce. publicati femel teftamenti fides relegi poterit. Veru hec faci líus fiét fi affit doctrina et plena rerú memoradaru cognitio.neq defit confumpta.et inueterata exercitatio.nam et medicus medicil nalibus et iureconfultus plebefitis facilius recordabitur. CSex tum eft ut Silogifmos reddituri medium termínum precipue col prehendamus.co cognito modus figuraque sylogismi ipsum ordinem propriorum uerborum apportabit.neqs quicq facilius capit aut tenetur: quia quo tempore aduerfarius propofitionem affumptionem et conclufionem facit; dumq3 cas approbat daturum ad fi gurandum ydeam medii termini longius fpaciu: quo noto fi mal teriam non ignores: fi quo ferratur argumétum intellexeris: fi lo ! gicos canones non nefcias: errare nullo modo in reddendo potes CSeptimum eft ut cum ignota barbaraq nomina fumus ferual turi: ea aut per quid fimile aut per ipfas fillabas fcribamus. Fiet hic locus clarior exemplo fi feruandus fit hic fermo. Cimergot aender.primum confiderare cóuenit utrum hii termini in lingua nobís cognita quid fignificent id fi contingant facilius fcribentur Ferunt enim Címergot aput germanos deú fignificare fi id non contingat alio fingemus ingenio lingua uernacula fummitates ar borum cimme nuncupantur. Got apud illuftres uenetos ciatum reprefentat: fingito igitur, Cimmam unam mergi in ciato. Ciatú q3 ad undas illidi et fluitare: et ne ultima perdatur terminatio: et litteram et undarum conflictú audiemus: fic Cimergot aender re legi facilimum eft: hec funt quidem nó inutilia memorandi: Veru ego profecto fubdubito: quod et Quintilianus fcripfit: ut. f. hec omnia id ipfum conferant fi nomina eodem ordine quo funt accel pta reddenda funt: hoc fecit Simonides in conuiuiis quos cadens atrium atriuerat: conferre etiam in, reddendis fylogifmis. Nam et nos id fecimus. et alios uidimus factitantes. Verum hec minus prodeffe poterunt in eis edifcendis que funt perpetue orationis: Nam et fenfus non eandem ymaginem quam res habent et diffi cile uerboru ordo feruari queat: qs preterea tot locos: tot ymagies ne dicam habere: fed ne fperare qdem poteft: ut quings contra no nem fecunde actionis libros notare et reddere cófidat: qq illuftris orator. Dominicus Georgio fingulis rebus proprias figuras haberi poffe confirmet: ut coniunctiue: condictionali: rationali: reli quisq3 particulis orationis proprii characteres affingantur. quin accentus etiam poffe fignare conftantiffime affirmat: Quam effe poffibilem non abnegauerim: apud Auicena: poffibilitas eft res ampla: et ipfe fortaffis precipuus orator. Dominicum dico, id fal cit: qui reddere lecta: atq3 audita ipfo ét ordine fillabaru folet.mibi certe nondum id exercitium contigit: multumq3 ego iam dubito paucos effe homines: qui emergere in id culmen ualeant: etiam fi omnibns uiribus enitantur: Alii feccadam effe orationem in par ticulas cenfuere: eas poftea prefigi. Verum aut fingula locanda funt aerba; aut in eorum ordine reddendo errandum eft. Quapp fi iudicio bene ualeo oporter excogitare alia ratióem memorandi: qua poffumus pdeffe pluribus: caqs tua gratia fcribere: et publice docere: que philofophi antiqui cellare maluerunt.id nos ingenue faciemus: medicamina confcribentes: neq; tamen negabimus: que funt hactenus fcripta plurimum ad memoria cóferre: folent enim nonnulli eis artibus multis notariis fimul dictare: notare in qua claufula fiftant: cum ad alterum itur: ut reuerti fciant et fine poftul latione fequi. fuit Iulius Cefar in hoc genere oftentationis dicta re et audire folebat epiftolas rerum tantarum: quaternas pariter li brarís dictare: et fi nihil ipfe fcriberet: feptenas: quam rem non fi guris fed naturali ingenii bonitate faciebat.hác igitur arte queri temus: nam ftultum eft non optima queque fibi ad imitádum pre ponere: ut fi eo pertingere non ualeamus: at ppius: q fieri poteft accedamus: Ad tam perfectă memoriam: et difpofitione naturali optima: et arte exquifitiffima opus eft: neqp poteft ars illam profil cere: quam natura ualde mancham genuiffet: proderit illi tamé: red detqs meliorem. Iam igitur rem incipiamus. Capitulum fecundum de medicinalibus auxiliis Emoria Iohanne Scotto auctore fecundo fentétiarú diftin ctione xxii: Pars eft fecunde portióis anime. due funt enim eius portiones. ut per alteram deus cognofcatur: per altera p ximus diligatur.huius ptes tris funt: Memoria; Intelectus et Vo luntas. Fuit autem inter philofophos non parua controuerfia: in qua parte cerebri locarer. Na Ariftotiles fecüdo de animalibus co furgere bonam memoriam cenfuit ex bono totius cerebri tempera mento: Verum Auicéna et ferme doctiffimus quifqs arabs in ante riori cerebri uentriculo fenfum cómunem: extimatiua in media: memoratiuam in poftrema cellula pofuere.fic cóuenit: utplurima inter medicos. Verum tamen Gallienus fecundo tegni: cum figna complexionis cerebri ponit p operationes fenfuum interiorum. facilitas inquit difcendi fignum eft fluétis: hoc eft humidi cerebri. et bona memoria fignum eft permanentis: hoc eft ficci.ipfe igitur figna pofiturus non anterioris tantum: aut medie: aut pofterioris celle cerebri: fed totius complexionem expreffit: ac fi memoratius in toto cerebro effet. Sic Ariftotiles facilif difcétes raro boná hal bere memoria céfet, q fi in poftrema cella memoria; in anteri ! ori cómunem fenfum ftatuiffet id quidem fepe poffet contingere: ut anterior humidus fit: poftremus uero ficcus: cum inter utrunqs unus uentriculus intercipiatur.Trufianus et ipfe communem fé fum non in priori tantum cella: fed in toto pofuit cerebro. I gitur et de aliis potentiis confimiliter fenferat.non ergo cóuenit: in qua parte fit cerebri; fed in poftrema exiftere comunes philofophi rati Tunt. Solent et morbi memoriam interdum auferre.interdum corrumpere. Interdum imminuere. Nam Boetius in predicamen torum commentariis cap. de qualitate: fertur inquit quidam fuafif fimus orator egritudine febrili decoctus omnium litterarum amil fiffe doctrinam; in aliis uero rebus fanus et fibi conftans. Scribit et Plinius libro feptimo cap.xxiiii.hec uerba: nec aliud eft eque fragile in homine morborum et cafus iniurias atqs etiam motus fentiens: aliquando particulatim: interdum uniuerfa: Nam ictus lapide oblitus eft litteras tätum: et ex prealto tecto lapfus matris et et affinium ppinquorúqs cepit obliuioem. Alius egrotus feruorů fai ét nois Meffalla coruinus orator oblitus eft. Itaq3 fepe deficit: tétat: meditatur: uel quieto corpore: et ualido fóno quoq3 ferpente amputatur: ut inanis mens querat ubi fit loci: Sed et Auicéna pri ma tertii tractatu primo cap.vi. Gallieni auctoritate commemorats propter cadauera in Ethyopia cepiffe aliquando peftilentiam: que afes ad Grecorum repferit terras, fi qui ex ea fanaretur: cos cium rerum obliuionem cepiffe, Conftabit igitur memoriam poffe me dicinali artificio feruari: et augeri: cum conftet cam morbo: et imminui: et aufferri; ac ueluti infantem ftolidum reddere: vt ait Auil cena prima tertii: quia fantafmatum copiam aufert. Sic qp cogital tiae actus; et difcurfus: ratiocinatioqs non commode fieri poffunt: ficutilét non bene fit in infantibus: in quibus ymagines pre humi ditate nimia abolétur. Dupliciter.n.cogitatiua uirtus ledi pót. aut.n.medius uétriculus; in quo cogitatiua exiftit: frigiditate: bu miditateqs confunditur: aut ei defunt fantafmata: que in memorati ua feruari debeant. Contra hoc tamen effe uidetur: quod Auicena vi. naturalium particula quarta fentit dicens.memoratiua eft ma gis immaterialis: fed magis econtra huic dicitur; uirtutem memot ratíuam duo continere: Nam et quas a cogitatiua ymagines recit pit conferuat: et hoc fat materiale eft cum materiali iuuetur inftru mento.f.ficco proportionato et recognofcit feruata: nifi enim re cognofceret non magis ea redderet: que ab ea repetuntur; et hee uis eft immaterialis. Veru Gentilis hanc uim idem effe uoluit qd cogitatiua recognofcens: licet memoria nuncupetur. Eft igitur: ut breui rem abfoluamus partim magis materialis q cogitatiua: ptim minus materialis. C Accidit aut memorie: ut imminuat: Accidit ut auferatur: accidit ut corrumpatur: et alterum pro altero report tet; Verum corruptio melancolie fpecies eft: ca ppter Truffianus fecundo tegni quando ponuntur figna egritudinis cerebri: duo tantum nocumenta memorauit imminutionem scilicet; et ablatio nem: Igitur quia corruptio a calido: et ficco fit: nó crit de ea hoc lo co difputatio: fed de ablatione tantum: et imminutione: neq puta mus ingratum quid facturi legentibus: fi huic de fimplicibus opu fculo curam inferam: prefertim cum nulla fit futuro fapienti necef farior: nullaq cognita minus: Verum ego precipua et experta affe ram. Due funt caufe precipue que memorie officiunt. Altera frigiditas: Altera bumiditas eft: Verum Auicenna Gallienuse uoluere plus frigiditatem: q humiditatem officere: quia omnis na turalis operatio calore naturali fit: frigiditas aurem confundit na 1 turam: neqs cius opus ingreditur nifi tang fubdominans inftru mentum ut patet fecundo colliget: et prima et fecunda primi: et a óciliatore differétia fexagefimapma ido fecúdo cáticorú cóméte xcv.uocat eum calorem elementorum hoc eft qui eft ficut elementum nature; et tractatu tertio commento.clv. Eius igitur contrariú quod eft frigiditas obeft plurimum: Verum obeft mediacius: bumiditas uero immediacius: quia cum memoria confortetur ficco proportionato: cuius eft retinere: ut tertio de aia: ergo confundit humido tang difproportionato. frigiditas quoq3 omnibus opatio nibus uniuerfaliter obeft: humiditas autem magis proprie uider obeffe retentiue.hec cum ita fint poteft tamen ficcitas fupflua impedire ne forme infigilentur: ficqs obeffe uidetur retentioni: cum tamen proprie obfit captioni: fed confequtive retentiói: quia quod captum non eft teneri non potuit. Verum frigiditas quia motum fpirituú impedit: cum eius fit quietare: ficut calidi mouere: ut inquit Auicena: inquit et Ariftotiles.xiii. partícula problematu textu fecundo. I gitur hunc motum neceffarium ad memorãdum im pedit frigiditas: fed retentionem impedit bumiditas; ficqs ceffare poffunt ambiguitates utrum frigiditas plus obfit cu cius filia fit obliuio; ut dicit Paulus.an humiditas: qd apd multos dubitatum eft. CQuia autem apud Gallienum in libello de rigo re, calor naturalis nó eft purus calor: fed compofitus in quo eft p portio omnis equalitatis: ideo non omnis caliditas bonam memo ! riam facit: aut non omnis ficcitas: fed certa et pportionata: ornnis uero difcrafia immoderata deicit actum proprie uirtutis. Verum fi fupflua frigiditas immoderate iugatur ficcitati cófurgere opor tet peffimam memoriam; et in capiendo indifpofitam: et in recogit tando hebetem: Si autem coniungatur caliditas ficcitati uelox qui dem erit fpirituum motus: fed difficilis fiet infcriptio. Erit igitur captio difficilis: fed rememoratio fat facilis: Verú hec oia uaria cal liditatis ficcitatis q3 pportio uariabit gradualiter: fic et in aliis dif crafiarum lapfibus fentiendum eft. Signa igitur breuibus exi plicemus: fi ficcitas dominetur: uigilie aderunt: capitis leuitas: et nó abundabunt ille fupfluitates: que nafo palato atq3 oculis expell lunt: fed multum erit auriu cerumé qd ad memoriam pertinet: pre fentia difficile infcribuntur. Infcripta difficile amouétur, hinc fit: ut que dudum gefta funt ea melius teneat, melius q3 reddát: q que ex proximo gerútur: Videmus hoc in feribus: q cas res pulchre memorant: quas in adolefcétia gefferüt: cas quas codem gefferint anno non retinent. C.Vbijuero dominatnr humiditas: adeft fomnus grauis; et profundus.hebetes funt in ompibus motibus: prefentium bene recordantur; dudum uero geftarum rerum: aut nequaquam: aut difficile.humiditas enim et facile admittit: et amittit facile impreffionem.frigiditas ftupidam mentem efficit. in fert uertiginem.tardam rememorationem: caliditas uelocitaté im portat motuum: et recordationis: et capur tactu calide.fi itaq due qualitates combinentur: complicari conuenit et figna carum táta proportione: qta uariabuntur qualitates: aut intendentur: que net quaq difficile crit ex predictis intelligere.poffunt quoq3 hec difcra fie: aut effe qualitates tantum; et non habere coniunctam materiam quantitatis notabilis: aut coniugi humoribus multis qualita tum confimilium. Ineffe autem materiá ex fuis fignis facile cognofces: que a doctoribus fuis locis ponuntur; et a me fatis copio le collecta funt in commentariis aphorifmorum Ypocratis fecundo aphorifmorú cómento.xxii.in digreffóe magna. Eft ét né ignorandum has caufas loco interdum differre. aut.n. caufa not cés eft in fubftantia cerebri pofteriore: in qua parte eft memoria iuxta opininionem Auicéne. aut eft in fenfu ipfo: qui in uentre continetur: aut in uafe hoc eft in fuperficie uentriculi pofterioris fic.n.exponit Gentilis uerba Auicéne: qq poteft etiam intelligt aut in paniculis: aut comiffuris fubftantie cerebri: in qbus fpirit cótinet: aut in uafe hoc é in cranco. Ná quis dicat Gallienus in decimo interiorum cap.tertio in cranco non poffe effe paffionem que tollat memoriam: fi tamé hec paffio fit magna ualde; potimminuere: fi non tollere; ut Gentili placet: ymo materia: et omne no cumentum in temporibus cómunicari poteft memorie: et obeffe: é qibi locus materie capax: eft et uarius mufculus fenfibilis: et craneum ibi eft tenue; ut innuit Haliabas nono theorice cap.de eais obliuionis. Sic poffent et alia multa in aliis membris nocu ! méta et cómunicare et ledere: que breuibus enumerari nó poffür. Preterea materie ipfe aut apoftema faciút: ut in litargia cótingit aut non faciunt. Quod autem attinet ad pronofticum. obliuio a natiuitate reportata difficile tollitur. Causa calida et ficca fixa non facile quoco remouetur.fi corpus fanum in ceteris rebus ap f parcat: nifi quod preter confuetudinem fit diminuta memoria; ei nifi fuccuratur male egritudines timende funt.lytargia.f.epilepfia appoplefia paralefis expectádeqs reliq huiufmodi: q ex materia flegma tica in cerebro multiplicata in cerebro poffüt conffari. fic fentit Aui cenna.fic et Rafis primo continentis: Que ex humiditate aut ex fit giditate facilius abolerur: quod plerunqs quidé dominis fcolaribus folet euenire: nam facilius eft efficare et tutus: fic et calefacere: qer contra: prefertim in cerebro: quod eft principale membrum: et eft fri gidum et humidum: fimilis igitur lapfus adeo non eft formidandus: ut diffimilis: audentius q3 procedimus calefaciédo: q infrigidando. membra enim principalia timemus magis infrigidare: q calefacere. Curationem poftremum inchoaturi fic exordiamur. Si caufa ha bet materiam apoftemantem; cura apoftematis ei adhibeatur: uelu ti fapientes medici fuis locis tradidere: Si autem materiam habeat: fed non apoftemantem ea digeratur: foluaturqs åteq applicare re media quis audeat.nifi. n. expellatur materia,: hec obeffe fepe possunt: prodeffe autem nuq: neq; uero per digerentia; aut foluentia di latabor: copiofi enim in hiis funt libri: et mediocribus etiam medicis cogniti: Verum ubi euacuata fuerit materia; hec que dicturi fumus obferuentur..bgCIn caufa frigida et humida tres funt intentio nes curandi. prima eft: ut euacuato corpore: etiam caput particulari ter cuacuetur: et hec habet modos fex. Primus ut pillule exhibea tur in fero: quales funt apud Mefue yera Gallient confortata cu ca ftorco: et colloquintida: fortiores erunt fi yera magna exhibeatur cu nuce mufcata: aut theodoricon: Verum ego in appropriatis pyllulas meas fcribam: quarü receptio eft. Recipe thuris mafculi mirre electe: zizibis an.3.i.fe.pulueris capitis apupe.3.ii.accori yere ma toris.3.ii.caftorci colloquintide an..fe.confice cam terbétina: et fi at pafta: et dentur pillule pauce fed groffe fupra leuem cenam in lel ctum defcendenti: poffunt etiam aufferri ca: que foluunt et dari nó fo lutiue. Secundus modus eft mafticare in mane zinziber; ut fali ua multa expellatur: pdeft et accorus: et nux mufcata: et piper: et cul bebbe cu maftice: in omnibus.n.eligenda funt que et intentioni cól ferant: et a proprictate confortant. Tertius modus eft caput obtar mico alleulare qd poteft taliter cófici. Recipe fucci maiorane. 2.ii.fuc ci accori.2.i.nucis mufcate.3.i.fe.mufci grana duo: Inde per nafú in mane tepidu trahatur ante cibu ore pleno aqua frigida: que poftea expellatur: Nafus quoqs fepiffime emugatur: et fepe expuamus nam generari catarrú ét in co qfatis canones feruet: hac etate noftra oper tet: quem utilius eft expuere: q inglutire; ne aut in ftomacú cat: aut in pectus. Quartus eft gargarifma deponens flegma: et confortans caput: poteftas fieri fic. Recipe accori.2.fe.origani pullegii an.3.ii. buliát in aqua cómuni: et tadé collétur: et in. 2.x.collature pone oxit mellis fquilitici.2.i.fe.mellis ro.2.ii.mifce: et tepidú gargarizet in mane. Quintus eft frictio totius corporis primo: deinde capitis: hoc.n.cofert capiti: ut Cornelius CELSO libro primo cap.xiit. deber aut a tibiis incipi frictio: poftea paulatim fuperiora femp fricet: ut de orfü uertatur materia: quapp id ne cótingat in pleno cachochimog corpore fieri nequaq debent: eiufdem generis eft et capitis pectinatio fic.n.et Cornelius Celsus: et LIZIO ad Alexandrum imparunt. Sextus eft cliftere pro materia forte.nó tamé acutu.hoc, n.ab in ferioribus euacuat a fupiorib ? diuertit: ut dicit Auicéna quarta pmi. CIntentio fecunda eft diera conueniens: ait.n. Gall.pmo de pno l ftico et pnofticóe cap.ix.hoc cóe peccatú a medicis fieri: materias q dé peccates euacuat: quomó aút altera fimilis generer negligut puidere. Nos igitur nó id negligamus: ymo diligétiffime puideamus: qd ingenue fiet: fi canones.xii.feruabutur circa cibú et potú.CPri mus eft: ut fugiat rerú quarúlibet nimia repletio: apd.n.rabi Moyfe concordati funt antiqui: qd plus nocet nimiú de bonis cibis comedel req parú de malis.Secüdus eft: ut no edant nifi co tpe quo fames urgeat. Tertius eft; ut oia euaporatia: replétiaq caput dimittatur ut legumina: fructus: et brafice.funt.n.de maxie cuaporatibus ad ca put: ut.xiii.tertii. cócedi tamé poft cibú folét píra cocta: aut citonia tofta: et in calido ét grana dulcis: aut muzzi granati: quorum et nul clei comafticétur.Quartus eft: ut brodialia iufcula: oiaqs nimis humida effugiatur: quia addüt in humiditate: cuius cura intendimus. CQuintus eft: ut qa pprietate nocét memorie dimittatur. Nam cel pe hoc facit: cum habeat humiditaté groffa: habeat et cóiuctam calidi tatem: que humiditatem fert furfum: et facit penetrare in loca: in que nó penetraret: oia quoq3 acrumina fuge: ut cepas.allea: porros. Effet hoc loco futura lógiffima difputatio: Verú fat p hoc opus fuis capitul lis diximus. In illis igitur requiratur: neq3.n.oia repetere confilium eft: ois mala mafticatio praua eft. Sextus eft: ut cruda relinquatur ét fi cum aceto comedantur.Septimus eft: ut leuis femp fit cena. COctauus eft: ut ois cibus in coriandris finiatur: aut iuniperis: aut crufta panis fupra qua nó bibát. Nonus ut uinú uinofu effugiar nam nimis uaporofú eft: fertas ad caput indigefta materia: et ad alia membra: et licet fit calidum frigidos tamen generat morbos: ut fecú do de accidenti Galenus teftificatur: licet fit caufa bone digeftionis magis fitim quietans q aqua: ut Ariftotiles fecunda problematu tex. quarto. fuffocat tamé uirtutem precipue fi immoderate bibatur.mp Decimus acetum fit accutiffimum et calidum in ufu exiguo cum cinamomo et ponatur in uafculo accorus: et pullegium: de qbus fuis capitulis diximus in hoc libro. Vndecimus omnia cibaria: que diu in ftomaco morantur effugiantur: ut cafeus et omnia fupffue pin guia: et pifces quia chimum flegmaticum generant: et paftamentalia. Duodecimus oés nucleofi fructus folent obeffe: ut nuces; et auel lane: et caftance: et amigdale. Aer hét canones quinq3.primus ut clarus fit: et luminofus.alter ut fit ficcus gtum fieri pot. Tertius ut non fit uentofus fed proprie fugiat auftrum: et boream: ut difputaui mus.tertia aphorifmorú commento fexto. Quartus ut aer camere de puret ne ullo modo fetidus fit: apperiantur feneftre: et redolétiú rerú fafficulli cóburatur: ut iuniperi; lauri: faluie: origani: et cetera: Quin tus: ut fuffumigetur cum thure: aut cu mirra: et in magnis uiris cum belzoi. CSónus habet canones fex.primus ut fit equalis uigilie no in tempore.fed in effectu: ut.f. tantum uigilia refoluat qtú fomnus humectat: et parum plus. Alter ut meridie non fiat: quia ut dicit Auicéna tertia primi generat egritudines humectantes: et reumatif mos. Tertius non fiat cito poft cena: fed faltem medient bore due: fed non fupra renes: quia materiam fluere facit in pofteriorem cellá cere bri. Quartas ut capite bene eleuato et bene cohopto fiat.nó tamé fu pflue: quia tefte Bernardo gordonio nimia tectura caput debilitat re foluendo: fic dicit et Gerardus in glofa uiatici. Quintus ut non fub radiis lunae: nec in loco uentofo. Sextus ut prius fupra latus dextru fiat poftea fup finiftrum: poftea iterum fuper dextrü: et pderit in ore tenere fruftrum nucis mufcate. Motus babet canones fex.primus ut ante cibum fiat.fecundus: ut fit longus: et pro corporis robore la boriofus: ut bene refoluat.tertius ut p loca amena et ficca.quartus ut poft cibum nó laboret.quintus ut omnes corporis pticule fimul exer ceantur: ut Galienus fcribit ad ephigené, fimul ergo difputet.ambu let.manus moueat.fextus ut motus fit longus et quottidie fiat. Re pletio habet canones duos. primus ut nung repleatur.fecundus ut omnem fupfluitatem fuis expellat tpibus; aut per fe ipfum; aut cum auxilio. I ta qp ab omni corpis pre unde fupfluitates mitti folét emit tatur. Coitus habet canones noué.primus ut fit rarus: et non nifi cú natura fponte id pofcit.fecundus ut non fiat tpe plenitudinis ftomaci. tertius ut non fiat tpe famis. quartus ut fiat in fine digeftióis. quintus: ut tam expulfe fint fupfluitates.fextus ut fiat cu dilecta: nó cú feda: aut cum muliere quam non ames.feptimus: ut poft ipfü dor mias paululu.octauus: ut fi tibi coitu grauior facius uidearis ab co abftineas.nonus: ut nó fit in ultimis diebus lune ppe cöiunctionem C Accidentia animi tres canones continet.primus: ut triftitia oio ef fugiatur.alter: ut cura rei familiaris: qtum fieri poteft amoueatur: ut apud Claudianu. pectora noftra duas nó admittétia curas.tertius: ut cogitatioe et meditatióe fcientiarum oblectetur. Nam apud Ariftotil lem.delectatio perficit opus. Intétio tertia eft cófortatio: que fit par tim cu extra appofitis: ptim cu hiis que intus ponútur. Extra appo nit capitis lotio: q fuis tpibus fiat; et hét canones.4.pmus ut raro fi at. puta oib ? octo dieb.fecúd'ut fiat in mane ftomaco uacuo.tertius ut in aere calido et ficco no uentofo.quartus ut fiat cum hoc lexiuio. Fiat cinis cum lauro et origano et edera et iuniperis et quercu: cum hoc fiat lixiuiú cú aqua in qua prius bec bulierit..accori.M.i.fe. foliorum lauri.M.1.poftea fiat lixiuiu: et eo facto impone florum ca momille.M.1.quia concoctionem nó fabftinet: et lauetur: et cu hoc fa pone cófricetur: Recipe fapóis gallici feu folidi libr.ii.accori.3.iii. affodillorú maiorane an.3.i.nucis mufcate.3.iii. pifta oia fubtiliter et cribella: poftea malaxa cum fapone et fiant magdaleones: melius tamen eft ut feces aque: quá fcribam in fapone ponantur et bene ma laxentur.in fine poftea bene exficcetur caput cu panis cófricando: non ut caput opponat igni: quia trabit uapores in cerebri. Ap ponitur extra et odoratoriu.cóueniet igitur pomú ambre defcriptioe comuni. qd tamen ex calidionbus fiet in hyeme: ex minus calidis in eftate: et effugiat omnem fetorem. Apponitur extra: et ueficatorium: quod fi poft aures fiat cum lacte titimaloru aut cátaridibus: et diu ap tum teneatur expurgat caput a multa humiditate. Ab extra ét fterna tamenta applicantur. Ab extra fuffumigia: que fi in camera fiät erüt utilia. Ab itra át cóferüt hec.fticados.maiorana.nuxmufcata gari ofili.buglofa pulcherime confert ideo in uafe Vini poni debent cias fafficuli. Zinziber eft nobile fiue códitu bis in ebdomoda aut ter ie iuno ftomaco accipiat: et horis quatuor ieiunet poft ipfü: fiueét nó có ditú mafticet: et igluciar.thus mafculú albu deuoratú itegre pcipuu eft. Ita ut fi zfnziberis thuris an.3.i.deuores: et fupra ipfu dor ! mias plurimum confert. Mirabulani quoc chebuli conditi fi om ! ni ebdomoda unius pulpá edas ieiuno ftomacho: et horis quattuor poft ipfum iciunes. Sifimbrium etiam cófert.et eft herba orti fcla rea; et ortina: et filueftris: que dicitur gallitricum. gami edere: et pulegium: et accorus: qui eft de precipuis. Turtur auis mire cô fert; et mirius caput upupe. Solent etiá fieri unguenta ad illi ! niendum multa: Verum hoc eft precipuum. R. radicum buglofe et fumiterrs an.2.iiii.radicum ruthe 2.ii.in umbra prius ficcata fubtiliffime terrätur, fucci gallitrici.fucci eufragie, fucci berbene an.2.iiii.medulle anacardı.2.i.tefticulorú caftrati biénalisz.i.li gue auts.3.it.piguedinis urfi: et medulle fpatule dextre ei ' aut fal té offis illius fpatule exficcati. mifce oia in fartagine: et fiat angu entú: quo pofterior pars et capitis pulfus ter in anno inungant uere.f.byeme: et aurúno.alid pcipuu. Recipe gumi edere.2.i.ter bentine lote in uino decoctionis accori libras duas: florü anthos et faluie et betonice.an.2.ii.fe. florú edere.2.ii.falifgéme.3.iili. pinguedinis urfi antiquate libr.fe.maiorane camomille.an.2.ii. omnia mixta diftilentur: et quod diftilatum eft in uafe uitrea bene obturer: et cum mufco aromatizetur: et fiat ut de priore liniméto Guido pater meus fic defcripfit Recipe oleí philosophoru mel fue libr.iii.olei antiquiffimi oliuarum: aut fi non habetur fit fubli matum: olei de alchanna an.libr.ii.piuguedinis talpe et muftelle eturfi an.2.ii.caftorei.3.iii.fucci accori libr.tili. fuccci anthos: fucci betonice an.libr.fe. fucci gallitrici et ciperi an. 2.iiii.malua tici libr.if.aque uite libr.mediam.buliant omnia lento igne ufe ad aliquá cófumptióem: poftea impone hec. Recipe laudani.3.1. fe. nncifmucate. 2.fe.macis gariofilorú: cuforbii: omnium pipú an.3.ii.et pifta omnia et impone et repóc omnia fimul in uafe be ne claufo per dies.xxx. poftea at impone in alembico et diftiles: et uidetur: quia quod ultimo exit eft fortius; et callidius: hoc un guentum profecto eft efficax: quo tépora: et pofterior pars cerebri perangitur: Verum prefupponit bonam euacuationem et regimé bonú in hyeme fieri poteft femel in ebdomoda: quádo mane uis caput lauare.in eftate fufficit femel in menfe. Inueni autem: qp fel leopardi mirabile eft, Verum experiri non potui; quia nó potui ha  bere. Per os auté conuenit inter phlilofophos cófectio anacar dina: q confert obliuioni et caniciei ante horam: et morphee et ba ras: Rafis libro diuifionum duas ponit defcriptiones; Verum Me fue in fumma tertia rubrica de imminutione memorie defcribit fic Mirabulanorum: chebulorum: indorum: belliricorum; emblicoru an.2.iii.piperis: macropiperis: ollibani: zinziberis: ifopi ficces accori: fpice; ciperi: mellis anacardi.an.3.v.mellis apum qtum fufficit: dofis apud rafim eft ficut iuiuba: et Mefue in antidotario diftinctione prima multum uariat eam. Addit.n.beduft.3.11.cofti anacardi zuchari tabarzet.burungi.baccaru lauri an.3.vi.ciperi.3.iiii.et dofar.3.ii.cum aqua feniculi et apii: et dat poft fex men fes. fed caueat fummens a labore.ira et ebrietate. fimilem defcril ptionem omnino ponit Auicena. quinto canone fumma prima tra ctatu tertio capi.xxv.et ferapio ponit aliam tranflatá ut dicit a Sal lomone: ponit aliam: et Rafis nono almauforis. Verum fcriba rem magis tutam: et ad memoria maioris efficacie: precedentibus rebus prefcriptis obferuatis canonibus et eft placida ufui. Recipe nucis mufcate: gariofilorü: zinziberis: oium piperú an. 3.ii.fc. Juniperorum.2.fe.ipericonts: corticum citri: florum anthos: bafi liconis maiorane: mente: pullegii: bacharum lauri: calamenti: fpil ce: xiloaloes: cubebarum cardamomi calami aromatici: fticados: an.3.i.thuris mafculi.2.i.camedreos: camepitheos: melegete: ma cis.an.3.i.fe, accori.M.i.fe.origani: ifopi ficce: ruthe gartofilate ariftologie utriufq3: peonie: cubebarum: caffie lignee: pollipodii t fquinanti: celidonie: agrimonie: pimpinelle.diptami: tormentilles fcabiofe: maratri: anifi: cimint: fifellcos: nafturcii: an.. i. tiriace antique.2.i.aque uite glorificate fecundu artem: quá cap.de aqua fuite fcripfimus; aut faltem fit ex bono uino: et quater diftillata: Recipe eius libr.viii: et impone omnia predicta bene piftata: et cri brata: poneq; in uas uitreum claufum: et fine per dies.xl. fermen tari: poftea autem in alembico uitreo infundatur.nafus qe bene lu tetur cum recipiente ne odor euaporet: et quater diftilletur: cam femper remittendo fuper feces fuas: nifi qp in quarta diftillatione addatur omnium mirabolanorum anacardorum an.3.i.fc. pift V.holidariur hingeol bene; et mifce: et fine: ut per dies fex quiefcant: poftea diftiletar primo lento igne: poftea paulatim fortiore: uidebis autem ter colo rem cómutare: primo.n.erit ut aqua: poftea fubcitrina: poftremo aucto ualde igne fiet citrina: decet poftea: ut ambra: et mufco aro matizetur: aqua prima crit remiffior fecunda: et erit pro mcipientibus et pro eftate; fecunda etiam remiffior a tertia: Modus ac cipiédi eft: ut bis in feptimana accipiatur coclear unu in fero fine cena aut mane ftomacho uacuo: et ieiunetur poft horis fex: fi etia cu ea illinias tempora et cellam memorie facit mirabilia: et fi.n. Auicenna prima tertii tractatu primo cap.xxviiii.dixerit non effe fupra illam partem ponenda epithimata propter priuationem com anffurarum: fed fupra coronalem: tamé de frigidis loquebat: que non penetrant; et obfunt nuce: calida autem: et tam fubtilia pene trant: et non obfunt nuce: qq non fit negandum quin etiam col ronali imponi debeant. Solemnis quoqs eft canon: ut quando fufficiéter cerebrum erit exficcatum ibi fiftamus: ne in difcrafiâ ficcam precipitemur: que eft infortunatior: q humida: ymo melius eft infra fubfiftere q cerebrum exquifitiffime exficcare. Caue atqs qui hiis utitur ab ira labore repletione: et coitu: ac etiam niff prius facta cuacuatione fufficienti. Nemo fupra ipfam aquam prefumat. eius proprietaté expertam de memoria nullus dubitet habet et alias: uirtutem regitiuam totius corporis mirabiliter forti ficat et ea propter uitam prolongat fic: ut quidam ob eius ufum cl. anos incolumis exegerit: bonum efficit colorem. frigidos op pugnat morbos: puftulam malam necat: et omnes morbos ex hu morum putredine caufatos fanat: et precipue quartanam: paralifi et fpafmo confert: fanat nefreticos. Cum hiis tamen iuuamé ! tis habet et nocumenta: quia calidum epar: et caput habentibus ex hiberi caute debet.foleo et res uariis membris appropriatas impo nere: et ad corum morbos propinare et feliciter: Verum in meme ria nutrienda atq3 augenda mira res eft: fed colericis: exercitatis: et in eftate et regione calida cum fapientia exhibeatur. Ita ut epar epithimate cotéper: qd tamé ftate plectoria epithimari no debet: us xiii.tertii; fed et aqua; ut diximus in plectoria exhiberi no debes CLaudauit Auicena dyambram: alii uero utrüp dyamufcum: dulcem uidelicet et amarum. Ego aut foleo fic ordinare. Recipe ra dicum accori incifarum: ut raffanus.libr.ii.omnium piperú zinl ziberis an.3.iii.fe.thurif mafculi.2.fe. nucif mufcate: gariofilol rum an.3.i.pifta omnia: et cu melle apum cófice. Accipiat omni fero rotulas duas anteq in lectu uadar. Si tamen addiicias fpecies dyambre: fi et mufcum apponas non crút inutilia. Hec hactenus fufficiant de cura eius: que a frigiditate et humiditate procedunt: Illa autem quam efficit ficcitas digeftione.euacuatione. conforta tione.humectationeq perficitur: que omnia quidem copiofius a fa pientibus medicis in fuis libris tradita funt. Neq3 egent: ut hoc loco fcribantur: prefertim cum fint rariffima ; et uix nifi in fene cé perta. Seruentur igitur modi quos diximus: nifi q cu rebus fiát proportionatis. I aus fit Xpo Iefu deo noftro cius q3 intemerate matris Maric Libellus de omnibus ingeniis augede memorie foeliciter explicit Impreffum Bononiae per me Platonem de benedictis ciué Bono nienfem Regnante Inclyto Principe.d.d.Iohanne Bentiuolo fel aido áno incarnatois dominice De omnibus ingeniis augendae memoriæ, Bologna. Carrara.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carravetta: l’implicatura conversazionale – scuola di Lappano – filosofia cosentina – filosofia calabrese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza (Lappano). Filosofo calabrese. Filosofo italiano. Lappano, Cosenza, Calabria. 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 et 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. 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.

 

Luigi Speranza -- Grice e Carulli: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale di GIANO – scuola di Bari – filosofia pugliese -- filosofia italiana – Luigi Speranza, pel Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice, The Swimming-Pool Library (Bari). Filosofo pugliese. Filosofo italiano. Bari, Puglia. 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, Gemma, Barletta, Cafagna. 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, 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, Farruggio, Una preziosa “Introduzione a Sgalambro” 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. 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. Gli studiosi moderni hanno confermato questa relazione stabilendo una derivazione dal termine ianua, "porta"[2], ma è con 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. 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". 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, 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), 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  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; 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 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. 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 (in realtà il toponimo è un prediale costruito sul gentilizioromano Tidius.).  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"), ma in realtà il toponimo è un predialecostruito sul gentilizio romano Sevius.  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.  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).  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.  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  congresso Grummond, N.T. et Simon, The Religion of the Etruscans. University of Texas, Austin.. ^ Daniele F.Maras, Monografie - La Religione Etrusca, in Archeo Monografie, 27 ottobre/novembre 2018. ^ Marco Terenzio Varrone, Della lingua latina Macrobio, Saturnalia Macrobio, Saturnalia Livio, Storia di Roma 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, 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.