De Disciplina Scholarum

To the Philosophical Works of Boethius. Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius, On the Discipline of Scholars. Preface. Your intention is known to me: to request a concise treatise on the Discipline of Scholars. Would that, from the smallness of my spirit, as far as my ability supplies, the decline of my talent, and the tenacity of my troubles, I might attempt to acquiesce to your petitions, O Martianus, on behalf of your friends. And although I am impeded by a twofold kind of commentary—yet not entirely of diverse sorts—on certain editions of Aristotle and also of other philosophers, and worn down by my own study, and corroded by the torture of the inhuman king of the Goths, softened by the consolation of philosophy coming to me beforehand, and by the extreme perspicacity of the profound Trinity. For what is more luminous in the exercise of the schools than the due knowledge in artificial and natural progression, and the gradual exhibition of the powers of the intellect? For we know that the parts of eloquence are established by the fitting process of artificial and natural things, and by the clear comprehension of the intellect. First, therefore, the primary delights of boys, as it were, must be tasted. Second, namely, how the pride of adults is to be subjected to the magistracy and connected to discipline. Third, concerning the repression of their pride, by setting forth distinctly with the commendation of examples. Fourth, concerning the wise provision for scholars and their gradual station. Fifth, how the venerable action and pure devotion of scholars is to be brought forth toward the master.

Sixth, concerning the norm of magistrates and the threefold division, and the condition of subordinates, and the method of teaching, as previously recognized. We have undertaken these matters for the understanding of knowledge through action, almost entirely omitting the former mode of treatment, never using a lighter style, since the execution is for the most part for instructing the unlearned, and the translation for clarification ought to be that much lighter. CHAPTER ONE. When, however, the undiscerning and helpless seven-year childhood is led to be instructed, care must be taken that there be no indecent arrangement of the limbs, such as of the integral parts, and no intemperance of the air, such as the dullness of constricting winter and the depth of burning summer, which might generate an increase of danger. For it is read that Timotheus’ son, with leprosy pressing upon him, castrated, club-footed, swollen with a hump, consigned to learning, became a plebeian object of abjection and the ridiculous detraction of his companions. Similarly, we have seen the son of the praetorian urban prefect, goaded by a little dog, consigned to letters; when, however, he did not enjoy the usual umbrella, destitute of his own virtue, softened by the penalty of jaundice, finally with his vital spirits altered, he succumbed to a lymphatic disease. Behold how much difficulty the indecent indisposition of the limbs and the intemperance of the air brought upon tender childhood. The supply of food, however, should be moderate; drink should be thin and of the same sparingness; similarly, let there be no lack of clothing.

First, therefore, the love of the figures representing the elements must be impressed, and the not unskillful joining of letters to be combined. Nor must one insist too much on such a laborious struggle, nor, as Servius holds, depart from it, since if one appears more ready in many things, he is then found also more capable in others. Second, the edifice of the laborious struggle stands in the traditions of Probus and Didymus, as well as of other philosophers whom venerable authority commends. It must be noted, however, that in this matter the broad tradition should be subjected to faithful resolution, and the learners' idiom should be explained word for word, for the tenacity of the foundation must consist in this. One must not depart by the monthly leap of Phoebe, nor be confirmed only by the solar course, but, after completing the interval of Mercury and nearly doubling it, one must diligently dwell. For diligence softens the dullness of any work. The tradition of Seneca, the incompleteness of Lucan, the prolixity of Virgil, the urbanity of Statius, the harsh translation of Horace, the harsher edition of Persius, the not unworthy injury of Martianus, the discretion of Naso, are to be investigated and commended to the cell of memory. And the morality of the remaining philosophers (insofar as the capacity of the intellect allows) is not to be passed over in silence, so that the serenity of sententious composition may flourish and the delight of meters may bloom.

O how the venerable eloquence of Tullius is to be placed among the highest desires. But one must beware in such matters lest what happened to Lothair occur; for he himself for thirty years taught his ignorance of the aforementioned philosophers in the schools, to be imbibed. When the day came for him to preside over the mediocre, he asserted that he had long doubted whose wife Aeneas was, whom he had found in the serenity of Virgil's hemistichs. And when asked by one of his disciples how the master could turn the first syllable of this word in verse, he replied that it was absurd to shorten the first syllable of so great a name, but rather that it should be pronounced with an acute accent. Behold how much time and expense the obtuseness of a stiff neck has wasted. Once such a preliminary training of the school has been completed, not improperly, one must proceed to the threshold of the science of greater inquiry. Science, I say, which we know as the investigator of truth and falsehood, and the only one that, under the title of science, astounds with the sublimity of its subjects. This, I say, is the mistress of the scholar, which, by penetrating the nature of things, provides the increments of virtues for the heights of any sciences whatsoever. But what is more luminous than the knowledge of the five universals, which is the mistress of the trivial sciences, the power of the quadrivial sciences, and the fullness of the collateral sciences? To the summit of this imperial mistress one must ascend in this order.

First of all, therefore, the intrinsic knowledge of terms, their not-hidden coupling in a proposition, and the not-unworthy connection of propositions are to be applied. Moreover, the determinations of terms, which we call syncategoremata, are to be impressed upon the mind by memory, inasmuch as they serve the sophistic imagination not a little. We recall that Trebatius, a most prudent man, but unskilled in this matter, passed over this knowledge in silence as if it were an unworthy subject for discourse. But when the day of conflict arrived, we saw the same man most wretchedly caught by these sophists, who were victorious, and indecently separated from his own company. What more? Confused by the distress of shame, what he had previously deemed unworthy of speech, he later begged for in common. This sophistic art, endowed with the fringes of this imperial mistress, confused in its petulant mind, consumed by the eulogy of nugatory loquacity, its face smeared with a woman's rouge, looked askance at barbarian nations; we know it to have been adorned in the commentaries of Alexander and our own, and perfected by translation. It is to be cultivated with the utmost effort. For the perfection of these and other things, we are accustomed to use a threefold recollection, of which the first is vocal, the second mental, the third common. The vocal produces the sophistic, the mental judgment, the common, if continued, produces perfect vocal blindness, mental knowledge, common use. Use, however, hastens toward mastery.

Just as prudence without justice is of little or no benefit, but justice without prudence is of great benefit, so knowledge without practice is of little benefit, but practice without knowledge is of great benefit. If, however, the knowledge is of a good disposition, and the novice cannot grasp the entire discourse in sequence, let him at least take up the first pronunciation, so that by proceeding step by step he may be able to produce a continuous effect. Having examined these superficial sciences, attention must be given to the Porphyrian speculation of the five universals, which are called "monstra" by Aristotle, necessary for the Categories themselves, which we have twice laid open by the light of exposition in our commentaries. O how great utility is contained in these if intrinsic knowledge is possessed! Is not the facility of the literate Sophronicus to be noted as a fault, I ask? Nor are our own volumes, adorned with stylistic schema, to be omitted. The whole succinct brevity of Aristotle, although tedious in voice, is not without fruit: for I have preferred to serve faithful translation rather than to be reproached for the rashness of arrogance. For what is more serene than the lucid truth of Aristotle? Nor, while these things are being done, is the fruitfulness of grammar to be neglected in any way; for through it the possession of any art is rendered commendable. The charm of rhetoric, and the honor of the study of the quadrivium, acquired by comparison, ought not to be omitted as far as possible. In these, however, the forwardness of study produces a flower and brings forth fruit if it is mixed with doubt and is timely.

CHAPTER II Having seen the rudiments of scholars and the growth of virtues, we must now briefly address their subjection to their masters, since one who does not know how to be subject does not know how to be a master. For it is a wretched thing for someone to be a master who has never known himself to be a disciple. Now the subjection of a disciple ought to consist in three things: namely, in attention, goodwill, and docility. Attentive, I say, in practice; docile in ability; well-disposed in spirit. Attentive, I say, for hearing; docile for understanding; well-disposed for retaining. These three, however, concur for perfection when interchanged. Let a scholar not be dyscolus. For one is called dyscolus, as if separated from school. For schola in Greek is called vacatio in Latin; hence dyscolus, as if separated from vacation. Now dyscolus is the name for one who runs about through streets and squares and taverns and the cells of prostitutes, through public spectacles, through processions and dances, and through feasts and public banquets, and this with wandering eyes, an unbridled tongue, a wanton spirit, a disordered countenance—for all such, school is placed last.

At a certain time, when for the sake of recovering health, and on account of the intemperance of the air and the witty customs of the Gauls and the pious conversations of the matrons, we had transferred ourselves to Gaul, we perceived with our sight many dyscoloi, as we recall, in the civitas of Julius Caesar which was called Lutetia Parisiorum. Moreover, we observed many begging for arts, with no one administering to them the cups of philosophy, and we grieved deeply that the fair-haired Britons, for the price of study, were traveling to Rome, because they were not being fed by the little sparks of the Athenians. Finally, however, the Gallic tongue began to be Grecianized. But if they had found something other than the twisted volumes of Lucretius in their regions, they would not, by our counsel, have lost so much effort. We observed a few of the Germanic fury being entitled, but we saw many being schooled in the art of magical delusion from Iberia. Concerning our own bleary-eyed and convulsed eyes, it is evident. But let these things suffice for now concerning the dyscolus. Let the disciple not be violent toward the master.

Let the violence of Albinus, son of Albeus, stand as an example: for although he was a son of affection, he was rather a forerunner of misfortune, who once laid his criminal hands upon his stammering master Grillus and defiled his venerable gray hair with the foul approach of his feet. What was the cause of such a crime? Because at the first sharp impression he was unable to grasp the entire constitution. Alas for the honor! Alas for the unhappy disciple’s approach to happiness! Let Nero rejoice in such a criminal heir, let Anytus rejoice in such a polluted successor. But let Grillus rejoice in the company of Socrates and Seneca. Therefore, one who rises up against the teacher of knowledge is not worthy of knowledge. Let the disciple strive to estrange himself through the fervor of luxury. This the satirists have divided into a threefold partition: one they say consists in the adornment of garments, another in sexual intercourse, and the third as the attendant of gluttony. We know that the foul madness of each frequently afflicts its subjects. The whole of Rome wept over the son of Lucretius, a disciple of Zeno, ensnared by a contumelious appetite for intercourse; although he was born of the most illustrious lineage, of great stature and sanguine quality, of remarkable eloquence and keen intellect, yet he rejoiced in daily and excessive marriages, while his father lamented the penalty; for he unlawfully consumed the patrimony and property of his parents, and surpassed all jealous rivals. He was always gaping at dice and the cells of prostitutes.

But not yet destitute of his own itch, afterwards cast out by his parents, finally abandoned by friends and companions, harassed on all sides by creditors, he secretly sought to attend to both known and unknown persons, very often redeemed from the distress of the cross by his father, yet in the end he could not be ransomed with his parent's money. Therefore, led to the cross, he compelled the same father to come to him with tears, and with a plaintive voice sought a kiss. But a movement of piety raised the father to his son's petition, and the raised son cut off his father's nose with a very sharp bite, saying: "Why did I escape unpunished from my first errors? Why did I not obey my teacher's instructions and despise my companions? A son must necessarily indulge his father's chastisement, and a teacher must shape his disciple's character. Behold how detestable is the incursion of harlots. Moreover, a harlot is the gate of hell, the way of iniquity, the sting of a scorpion, the snare of crimes, the pit of destruction, and if any other disgrace of luxury, any other species more grievous and worse than crime. Moreover, the destruction of Hyacinthus lies open to all, and of Jovinus. And elsewhere, a harlot's lips drip honey, but her last moments supply wormwood. The second species of luxury, endowed with feasting and drunkenness, rejoices to be sustained interchangeably, as cause to effect, with the aforementioned.

Because of intercourse, indeed, drunkenness arises relatively, as well as the other kinds of vices. Wine, however, taken in moderation seems to confer sharpness to the intellect, but taken immoderately it disturbs reason, dulls the intellect, enervates memory, induces forgetfulness, pours in error, and leads to ignorance. For where drunkenness is, there madness holds sway; where madness holds sway, there no wisdom, but foolishness roams openly. Daily examples of this reasoning and of the detriments to virtues are evident. Moreover, this plague is worse than a dissolute companion, because if it cannot apply itself to study, it gnaws at others who are eager to devote themselves to the schools, fosters the error of strife, or begs for the aid of fists. O what a mixture there is for students with a dissolute person! Therefore, the discretion of the prudent casts such persons out from the integrity of fellowship by an irrevocable order and for a determined time. This second species, however, is sometimes a precursor to the first, and a follower of the latter, appetitive. O how much error drunkenness casts into the mind of the student, unless it is curbed by the rein of sobriety to the nail. The third species of luxury is concupiscence, which gapes after ornaments, and consists in the married state of parents and offspring, to which the invincible faculty of poverty yields.

This, however, delights in the variety of garments and their frequent change, in the engraving of them piece by piece, in polishing the hair with the help of a comb, and in the curling of the curling-iron, and in wantoning in a row with the diversity of flowers, and in daubing its throat with rouge, and in gaping for the frequent chastisement of the razor, in filling the bosom with perfumes, in showing to the people the neck adorned with necklaces and the belly chastened with belts of Parthian leather, in walking like a queen with beaked and soled shoes, and with neck held high, throat swollen, eyebrow trimmed, impudent eye, and haughty gait, to walk in a semicircle. It delights in speaking bombastically with rare and immodest speeches, in disdaining all the dishes set before it, in afflicting those who serve, in abusing relatives, in tormenting the unknown with tortures, in attending school rarely and at the last moment, and in being of little use, and in hastening to be absent from it at the first opportunity. O what and how great a mixture of vices is this! When at one time I had betaken myself to Athens for the sake of learning, I observed Ganymedes, the son of the dictator Pyrrhus, laboring under all the aforesaid vices, who at one time with bordered slippers, at another with spotted boots, for an hour elated with cedar flutes, and with bare feet went before, and attacked the Areopagus as if in a rage, and I very often cautiously took care that he should not rise up against me, because I was a foreigner. What more shall I say? He came to such a pass of poverty, though unwilling, that he, by begging and scraping together, made up for what he had formerly disdained in his fastidiousness, the course of fortune being changed. But let these things suffice for now.

CHAPTER III Since, however, the student is bound to strive toward perfection, let him be known to impress upon his mind the affective cause of perfection, namely the constancy of continuity, as far as ability allows. For what is more luminous in the work of love than constancy, what more wicked than inconstancy? The first begets, the second dissolves what has been begotten; the first proceeds, the second recedes; the first gathers, the second scatters what has been gathered. When we had decided to sweat in the gymnasia and deemed it worthy to hold the office of master, fortune assigned to be imbued with our precepts a son of inconstancy—or rather, to speak more truly, inconstancy itself. He gaped at satirical inks for a month, at historians often for a day, at elegiac poets for a year; but in the art of reasoning he was a nightly devotee of Aristotle, in philosophical editions for a month, and in the compilations of the Twelve Tables as if for an instant—for he had quickly grown disgusted with everything. If he had indulged a little in the inspection of books and their writing, he would have inspected many through these, but would have laid his hands on none, even for the briefest time, to complete them. At length he began to be a merchant by sea. But on the first night, provoked by nausea into gaping as the bilge forced itself, and finally terrified by the assault of the sea in the waves, he wished instead to be a gardener. When the crop failed, he transferred himself to the military army; but upon seeing the incursions of the enemy, he commended his back to flight.

Crato was gaping at his studies with more security, the capacity of whose semicircle dreaded many questions. The breadth of the upper circle, formed on the plane of the zodiac, smiled upon sevenfold drachmas. The first literal inquiry asked whether the dominion of the empyrean heaven can be obscured by any nature partaking of earthiness. The second, whether the vital servitude of spirits can be blackened by the ambit of earthly dregs with the aid of nature. The third, whether one should acquiesce in the triple division of the poles of Judah or in the simple partition of Aristotle. The fourth, whether in the Judaic division the limits are from the things themselves, or in them, or each separately, and if in the Aristotelian, since the parts of the whole move locally, why the whole does not move. The fifth, why there is a continuous transmutation of the elements, and whether the elements are the same as they were at first, or are different. The sixth, since one of the contrary elements, such as water, receives an accidental quality, such as heat, why does fire not receive an accidental coldness. The seventh, whether any zone is habitable by us, what the primeval birth of its inhabitants, what the access of them, and what the change of their departure. The map of the second circle held the eyes of the beholders with a ninefold inspection. The first of these, modifying the breadth of the zodiac, contained the quality of the circles inspectively, the limits of the colures definitively, and the quantity of the whole form progressively.

The second: whether the fixed stars are in the higher heaven, or, moving in their own circles, are discerned to wander after the manner of the planets. The third: whether comets, prodigiously reddening, run circularly with the other planets, or return as destructive creatures into their own chaos, by the permission of nature from the Natures. The fourth: whether the compounded virtue or eclipse of the lower nature is contracted from the planets, or from the first generating principles. If from the planets, whether according to necessity or according to chance. If indeed from the generating principles, since one of the generating principles is white and the other black, why the offspring is not white and black, and why the offspring sometimes in its extremities resembles the father, in other parts the mother, and sometimes neither of the generating principles. The fifth: what proportion of motion to motion the planets have, and what their connection. The sixth: since Saturn among the three planets is the most aged, and Venus the most benign, whether the benignity of one retards the malignity of the other coming from the opposite direction. The seventh: since the north wind is naturally cold and dry, why it appears contrary to us. The eighth: what is the proportional connection of the elements. The ninth: what is the course and effect of the sun and moon.

The last plane of the semicircle set forth why there is trembling in the earth, why lightning burns the air, why the rage of the sea overflows, and the malignant taste; what is the nature of summer-born winged creatures, which fail in winter, and conversely; what is the roundness of hail, the length of snow, the power of cloud; whether the virtue of stones comes from their composition or from their matter; whether the attraction of adamant arises from the components together or from the impact of one alone; what is the sweetness of rain, the winter warmth of a well, the summer coldness of a well, the triple emission of sight, and the concretion of colors. Since the solution of these difficult questions could not satisfy his mind with change, he proposed to submit to a wife, setting aside the aforesaid matters. Having looked upon maidens everywhere, and being led into weariness, he answered his parents thus: I reject corrupted women, I detest old wives’ beds. I have nothing to do with a fierce virgin; I will be alone. And having spurned the aforesaid solutions of the difficult questions as far as possible, he said, I will henceforth insist on the precepts of Ptolemy. But the degrees of the signs and the courses of the planets cannot be easily comprehended by sight without the height of a tower; what then shall I do? It is wretched for me to be a man; would that I could put off humanity and put on asshood, with my human form changed! Let the sum of the disciple be subjection to the master, attention to exercise with goodwill of mind and docility of talent, avoidance of the species of luxury, and the due profession of happy constancy.

CHAPTER IV All the matters previously set forth have been fixed in the instruction of scholars; now it must be briefly treated concerning their shrewd provision. Since the constitution of the human body is supported by phlegm, blood, choler, and melancholy, it is necessary that from one of the aforementioned humors each person derive a preeminence. The melancholic, subject to sloth and fear, ought to study in secluded and secluded places lacking noise and receiving little light, and to avoid heavy meals and late dinners, and to enjoy moderate drinks according to the need of nature as the drying of study requires; he should be sustained by a full reception of drink up to measure, lest the rashness of excessive study generate consumption, shortness of breath, and constriction of the chest. The phlegmatic, however, can be instructed in buildings vigorous with noise and in places most capable of light, with prescribed studies; he can be sustained by fuller cups, nourished by all kinds of foods, and, if it is proper to say so, should be softened by monthly venereal access. The sanguine, whose constitution is more favorable in its composition, can be adapted to all buildings or places; we know that he is more often sustained by playing with the gravest questions than if he alone were to shake the walls with slanting goats.

Nevertheless, one should not always rely on this; it is fitting that he be cheered with lighter foods and most agreeable drinks. The choleric person, however, who is generally subject to a pale countenance, should be placed in solitude, lest excessive noise by its hearing pour bile into the whole company, and thus harm the venerable majesty of the master. Oh, how the injury to the master is to be avoided! We know that this one is sustained by a more substantial dinner and soothed by a stronger drink. But care must be taken lest the horror of strife be drawn forth from the administration of drink to these rabid minds. If, however, the company is ignorant of how to assign these qualities, let it consult the theorists and thus know itself. For many minds have been acquainted with the phrase "know thyself." And the discretion of the fortunate disciple rejoices to be subject to the master, to love him while fearing him, and to be faithful. Nor should he, under the pretense of painted affection, act as an Albinus by detracting from him. For what is more wicked than a detractor? Woe to the detractor of the master! Even if there be a thousand with him, let him rise for the arriving master, greet him according to place and time, bow his head, and follow him if he bids, and, if he can, insert himself into his dwelling by cohabiting, so that, thus chastened, he not only reproaches himself, but also, if the opportunity arises, flows to him by inquiring.

If, however, the disciple is unable always to present himself before his master, as is necessary, whether because of the distance of the dwelling or because of some other cause, he should always keep at his side the more ready tablets of the sayings, from which he diligently impresses upon himself what he has known to be intimated to his own conscience, and he should explicitly inquire into what is doubted. But when a harmonious and fitting annual gathering of table-companions occurs, or a more frequent one according to the will to remain, he should contribute fragments of salt and wood in summer, a supply of the vintage in autumn, threshing at harvest, and a store of meats in Capricorn. O how beneficial and consonant with health it is to arrange these things according to one's means in a single place, lest the mustiness of the baker's bread weaken the breath of the anxious one, and the sourness of insipid wine confound the secrets of the heart, the rancor of the butcher's meats and the enclosed stench of the grinding of salt corrupt the intestines, and the lack of wood contract the limbs, and, what is worse, lest the anxious one be oppressed by constant incursions! Great indeed is the disciple's advantage, as far as means allow, to provide necessities to the magistracy, lest while he gapes at its execution, he indulge in the purchase of vendible goods. O how absurd is the poverty of the magistracy! The removal of old laundresses, moreover, is to be highly valued, and their access, the rarer, the more salubrious, lest when she comes she suggest something polluted, or extract something from the overly softened servant.

Since clemency is rarely found in servants, and constancy is even rarer in times of distress. Woe to the master who fully trusts in the affection of a seductive servant! What is more foul than such a one, and what is more grievous than such a crime? A clean dwelling, clean furnishings, and a whitewashed chest are to be arranged by the prudence of a servant who considers the outcomes of affairs, who always attends to the master’s diligence, and who maintains a seemly countenance. What is more foul than a thieving servant? Let the wretched Elimax, named from “elimare” (to polish), deriving his name from his deed, terrify all. He, when he had received gifts from Nicostratus, first served him with a more flattering countenance, administering everything at his nod, appearing faithful in all things, and promising himself to be even more faithful. Whatever Nicostratus’s faithfulness possessed was entrusted to his faithlessness. What more? When the wretched Elimax’s ill-fated foresight saw that everything was supplied to him—supplies of meat, provisions of fish, and the commerce of other goods for sale—he reported everything to his master’s ears at double the price at which they were valued, and thus drained away the increase of the entire estate, and dragged Nicostratus into the utmost poverty, and into the long-lasting outcry of creditors—than which nothing more bitter is impressed upon the mind. Woe to the madness of the creditor! But Nicostratus’s great need led him to recognize the servant’s error.

It is too late to reproach Elimax for his error; upon hearing this, he immediately burst into abusive words, buried his dagger in his master's entrails, carried off what he had previously neglected, and left his master's body to be devoured by dogs. Behold how great a crime the impiety of a detestable traitor has perpetrated! Let the double-tongued servant be driven far away, and his wickedness be cast off at once, even if he is joined by the nearness of blood kinship. For we have seen many suffer the loss of their companions due to the cruelty of servants. To creditors, however, the full payment of a committed debt shall be rendered, and on the appointed day, payment shall always be made as far as possible. But for the scholar to whom the full horn of plenty has not smiled, how sweet is the transfer of a creditor and the offering of support from relatives! Moreover, the constancy of a prudent scholar should always rejoice in some special companion, to whom he can disclose his own conscience, who diligently assists when fortune is cloudy, and shows himself attentive when illness prevails. And if the dark gloom of death approaches, let him arrange the survivor's possessions; but if he escapes alive, let him be able to be supported, fed, soothed, and consoled by that companion, led to bed, and provided for in various ways; while health prevails, let them delight in exchanging books, in competing over little questions, in commendable recollection step by step, in the happiness of correction back and forth, and in sweetly attending to various and diverse kinds of amusements.

And so among them may the integrity of mutual love remain, so that the dew of early times may be instilling, in the middle overflowing, and in the end intoxicating. What sweeter, what more splendid, what indeed better? For in the presence of such love, no adoption of favor sets an end. Envy, however, if it occurs in some respect—namely, in learning—is gratuitous; but simple envy is destructive of its own author. When, however, by the providence of my parent, promising to console me with his conversation, as is usual, after a few days, he sent me to Athens for the sake of study, I found a unique guardian of my life, named Favonius—named not from the wind, but from favor.

When he had seen me weary from travel, pondering various things, and sighing very often, he asked whose I was, and led me along with himself, consoling me courteously, inquiring briefly whether I had come there for the sake of study, what my profession was, what my faculty was; after three days, showing the names of the neighborhoods, the cross-streets of the alleys, saying: Here flourish the presages of the Chaldaeans, the not-hidden glory of Ptolemy, the sincere truth of Aristotle, the proven divinity of Plato, the concretion of Zeno, the affection of Peribonius, the promise of Pythagoras, the Iliad of Homer, and the labor of Theseus, the theorems of Euclid, the porisms of Daretes, the scrutinies of Hippocrates; here flourish the efficacy of the Areopagus, the expertise of law, the confused glory of the hippodrome, the victory of the circus, the power of the wrestling-school, the thunderbolt of the cestus, the loftiness of missiles, the shouting of swimmers, the wandering of youth, the assembly of the dance. When, therefore, the liberality of Favonius had intimated these and many other things to me, he asked what my faculty was, and what abundance of coins my purse could suffice for, and to what discipline my mind’s attention was more ready.

Therefore, after all had been answered in order, he instilled something worthy of memory into the ears of his friend: namely, that I should diligently attend to the scarcity of money, since it is fitting to shame to squander what was foolishly entrusted, and that, with necessity compelling, I would return to my homeland in confusion, overcome by shame. He also disclosed another thing, deviating by a new path of reasoning: that if I were to attach myself to some discipline, I should first carefully examine whether it obeyed good morals, abounded in the titles of the liberal arts, and was free from all negligence of its profession; and that I should diligently listen to him for three days and consider everything, so that if he were good, even if stammering, I would not depart from him. Happily instructed in these and other secrets, I grew strong at Athens for two years of twenty, always yearning for the traces of good, whatever evil I had experienced. For one who could not be ensnared by the weight of bitterness is not worthy of the sharpness of sweetness. Always adhering to the disciplines of Herodian and Aristotle, and diligently commending the sparks of others to my mind, we deemed it worthy to commit to examination a certain common nature of all things, lest the simplicity of the present work detract from the faculty of poverty, lest despair confound, and desolation afflict.

However, since a scholar’s poverty proceeds from various considerations—whether from the tenacity of relatives, from the penury of a flooding storm, from the inconstancy of a stepfather’s aid, from the insistence of noble birth, from the excessive carelessness of the firstborn’s military service, or from the cunning of a familiar burning—we have deemed it worthy to give counsel under a general heading. The detestable hooked tenacity of parents is softened by the importunity of prayers, is generally dissolved by tedious speeches, is ended by timely tears, is often aroused by false promises, is dissolved by affectionate gifts, is pierced through if flattery is timely, is strengthened if not, is undermined by exemplary admonition, and is stirred up by the entreaties of others. To the penury of a flooding storm one must yield by the increase of one’s own labor—by writing, by gathering threshed grain, by cleaning threshing-floors, by serving for a time. Yet if an ingenious faculty of writing compels a voluntary motion, we have deemed it worthy to restrain the goad of necessity. One must beware, however, lest a dainty appetite excite the mind, and lest profit enervate the Sirens’ song common among writers, lest prodigal and rarely faithful flattery defraud, and lest a familiar glance, whether in sight or hearing, drink up whatever the writer’s right hand grinds out. Notwithstanding the wickedness of a glebe-farmer, how much inconvenience for learning and decrease of virtues the favor of kinship has brought me while I served under Herod’s military!

Often, when the small spark of paternal sense is lacking, we have thought it safer to mitigate grief by a more cautious course, having already set forth a pattern, judging it safer to be in need than to be forced to undertake unwillingly the journeys of long labor by returning home. The deep-seated malice of the Glebean family infected me, as I was being instructed in the seats of the later scribes, and I gloried too long in seductive gain. Toward evil, the parent’s more ready intention often evaporated in inner fire, and I was deprived of my usual support; and before the outcome had proven the deed, madness did not abate, and the insistence of prayers availed nothing; after two years, the informer’s notorious denunciation remained, but it did not depart unavenged. If the means cannot be consoled by the stepfather’s compliance, let it be diminished by threats, and by a timely course they threaten, as the jocular transaction of Proculus teaches. The carelessness of a festive brother shall be mitigated by a eulogy as an example, and his own cunning shall be corrected by the warning of kinship, or madness shall be suppressed. To a sister of marriageable age, one must obey a relative as quickly as possible, lest through the vice of carelessness the first rose be plucked by an unworthy thumb. O how commendable is the profession of modesty in a sister, and how lamentable is the commission of the contrary, like the cutting away of a flesh full of shame that disfigures the face! The insignia of obedient brotherhood of the second Theophrastus are not to be entrusted in silence to Symmachus the steward, who, with both parents having entered the path of the universal dog, married off the constancy of his sister, threatened with impending disgrace, with a dowry of benefit, and earnestly commended himself to the courses of fortune.

Elisiae, her husband having been snatched away by shipwrecks, the sister pursued her brother Symmachus. Elisia, by serving in many things, furnished all the likenesses of merits to Symmachus. For while the capacity for the allurements of her own flesh was lacking, she more secretly exposed the flower. She preferred to succumb to the vice of neglect, Elisia, rather than to break the bond of fraternal constancy while she lived, nor did she retreat from what she had begun, but remained until she ended the undertaking with a suitable conclusion. The tenacity of industry must be aided by the domestic burn of a rough mind, lest in the diligence of borrowed money you pour forth bile, or the afflicted case of another or of a thing wear it down; whatever is done under these circumstances must be conferred cautiously, lest the meanness of things stiffen your face with the judgment of shame in the future, for strong planks are often seen to collapse from the injury of a single little spark. Let it be known what the gray hair thought about the Bald Soldier, endowed with the light of wisdom, who, while making a transition in the early flower of his military service, secretly carried with him under his Birrus a certain amphora, entrusted it to the grace of a slave, and, having lightly changed his status, chose the place of another cohort, and arranged with the cook about an earthen pot. With the roar of quarrel and rancor dissolved, the cook, indignantly bearing the rancor, struck the gray hair with the earthen pot, which, although later decorated with ivy, no one thereafter could recall the former state of the connection of juice to the injury, contracting both the test and the stock from the incursion of the earthen pot.

Let therefore the safe capacity of poverty be pure, content with little, manfully enduring attacks, always aspiring to the highest, obedient to all. And let it be prompt in service, slow to speak, faithful in obedience, whole in love, and sweet in conversation, lacking the swelling of pride, since its opposite is not valued to dwell with it. For although the reward of labor is withheld by many, yet from someone the adoption of favor will be earned. Does it not often happen in a small slip what a year’s cycle cannot produce? The office of the flatterer and the company of the informer having been banished according to place and the business of the time. CHAPTER V. When an adolescent of good character wishes to ascend to the excellence of magistracies, it is necessary that he diligently understand the three kinds of states which Aristotle intimates in the assignment of probability. There are some who are vehemently dull, others mediocre, and thirdly excellently sharp. But we have never seen any of the vehemently dull vehemently intoxicated with philosophical nectar. Mechanics rejoices to be married to these, politics to the mediocre. But of the excellent we find three divisions of authors, of whom some are excellently sharp, others mediocre, and thirdly most excellently sharp. Economics rejoices in the excellently sharp, physics under the lunar globe and the practice of apothecaries in the mediocre.

The most excellent acute minds, whom Aristotle especially calls known according to philosophy, find that knowledge of universals smiles upon them through experiments of singulars; this is the mistress of the trivial arts, the power of the quadrivial arts. O how happy is its display! Yet the extreme division of mediocrity has sometimes procured for itself good and perfect men, albeit with sweat. Magistrates, however, are endowed with honor after the flower of youth is consumed. For these, if indeed the aforesaid matters are to be ordered in this way: first, that each one know to what reverence of so great a name they pertain, that they know how to express what has been learned, and that they not entrust themselves entirely to the commission of writings, like Lucretius, who, in inquiring into the mode of any proposed question, dismissed his retinue and flocked to his notebooks. Second, that they acquire a supply of books for their own practice, so that when need arises they may consult them. Nor should they trust them entirely, like Jugo, who trusted so much in the warnings of his teacher Montanus that he wrote down every word that issued from his mouth in notebooks, esteemed it as sacred, and, obtaining nothing other than the place of his teacher in the schools, preached it, whence he often withdrew, shut in with shame. For it is indeed of the most wretched intellect always to use what has been found and not to find, and it is foolish to trust entirely in the speeches of a master, but first one should trust, until one sees what he thinks; afterward, one should pretend that he erred in teaching, so that if by chance one can find something to object to the diligence entrusted.

Third, that he should have some whom he may teach secrets, and with whom he may read books, and whom he may inform with other supports, so that he may know what he has understood, learn to express what he knows, and by frequent expression acquire practice, and practice bestows mastery: for teaching others is to indulge one's own capacity. Fourth, it must be arranged that he attract these and others to himself, so that when the opportunity for teaching arises, he may rejoice in their intimate presence. What is more shameful than to be left alone at the time of the first beginning, like Flavus, who, by the command of his own kind and the wealth of the dominant treasury, believed all were subjected to him, but when the time of the gathering had passed, he rarely found a companion who adhered to the terms of the contract, even unwillingly, while royally adding all kinds of threats? Yet it is consistent with nobility, according to the twofold division of affinity, to cherish the presence of the teacher at least for a time. Fifth, that those by whose favor he is to be crowned, he should always walk about peripatetically in their favor in the schools, and courteously oppose, and sharply rebuke the insolent, and respond more diligently for the time, lest the will be mute, and be imputed to the blindness of ignorance or the rashness of arrogance. For we have seen many, even unwillingly, enjoy a fall due to the insolence of their response in the eyes of the observers; for it is not the interest of the learner to provoke the teacher with abusive speeches and insulting words. Nor, even if he is joined by the closest familiarity with the teacher's secrets, unless ordered, should he yearn; when ordered, indeed, even unwillingly.

Did not the forwardness of Fontinus lay open the examinations of Zenocrates, having first inspected them when publicly taught, and believe himself to be playing the master, if he had carried off the whole of Zenocrates' Minerva, which once removed, Zenocrates ceased to study, and Fontinus, not knowing how to use what he had taken, labored under a greater frenzy? Therefore a disciple who trusts in his own labor will never envy another's honor. When the day of the highest promotion arrives, the venerable gathering of colleagues should be commended with a brief stemma and a concise address, and thus one must proceed intrepidly to the increments of the initial honor, with decent adornment and festive display, if means permit, having provided splendidly for all, or at least for those of the same profession, according to his desire. Yet it must be cautiously considered and more cautiously investigated before the elevation to the mastership, whether in the course of the first year he can support himself by his own means if necessary. For it is shameful, on account of the reverence due to so great a name, to have to beg at the very beginning, as did Strictonius, who, having venerably performed all that pertains to the mastership, began to beg on the third day, and soon repented of so great a daring. What wonder? As if deluded by an instant, he departed, never again confessing the heights of so great an honor. O how happy an outcome is the venerable commendation!

CHAPTER VI Having set forth those matters arranged for the education of scholars, with moderation of clarity observed, we neither burden the reader with brevity of speech nor confuse him with prolixity, never having used a clearer style and a lighter framework, since this is commended not only to the discerning but also to the unlearned, once the series of riddles has been set aside. Now we must hasten to the venerable majesty of the masters. The division of masters, however, is to be considered as follows. Some of them dwell in the two cities more brilliant than the rest, namely Rome and Athens, proceeding nowhere further, except insofar as fortune grants them to be venerated more highly. Others, neglecting the heights of the aforementioned places, seek the advantages of neighboring towns, both on account of the stepmother of discipline, poverty, and on account of the resisting sweetness of their native land. Of both these groups and the others, some assume command by reason of a fine title, so that they may be honored. Others, by reason of intelligence, lest they be confounded by the ignorance of those. A third group, speculating more subtly, assume the robes of mastery on account of the increments of both parts.

For indeed, whoever among such men wishes to pursue the rewards of assumed grace and due office must shine forth more brightly in all uprightness of character, so that he is truthful in speech, just in judgment, prudent in counsel, faithful in trust, steadfast in countenance, pious in address, distinguished by virtues, and praiseworthy in goodness; if anything contrary should happen, it usually occurs through the appetite of human frailty. Let him also be good in his conduct, for nothing is more harmful to a disciple than the shameful life of a teacher: indeed, things poured in are very often seen to be corrupted by a foul vessel, because a foul vessel spoils the water poured into it. These matters have been set forth for the formation of the teacher’s soul; now we must discuss the other primary matters—not the first of the first, but the second of the first. The teacher is also required to be learned, gentle, strict, mature not in years, not negligent, nor arrogant. Let him be learned, I say. For he must first learn before he teaches. For we know that the comparison of the Trivium is the assistant of teaching. Indeed, it is very absurd and unjust for the unskilled to be preferred to the skilled, the new to the old, and the raw to the experienced. Gentle: because sometimes it is opportune to endure the arrogance of disciples, therefore gentleness must be used.

Master Franco should come forth as an example of savagery, who, because of the unbridled arrogance of his pupils who made use of their own nobility, hanged himself with a noose; but he would have acted more wisely if he had employed gentleness. He should be strict: for in the embrace of scholars, it is most advantageous to enjoy strictness, so that he may impose punishment on those who err, dissolve the quarrels of sophists, bite back at those who bark, suppress those who speak against him, chastise those who are insolent, and carry out the entire dialectical determination. He should be ancient not in years, but in perpetual knowledge; if indeed both are present, the condition will be sounder. He should not be negligent: for just as constancy is found as the mother in every work, so negligence is the stepmother of all teaching and discipline. For it would be more opportune to serve a mechanical art than to be burdened by the yoke of negligence. He should not be arrogant: for the lively little spark of the poor is extinguished by the arrogance of the one who teaches, and the will to learn is cut off from the rich, because the diligence of an arrogant master has never faithfully instructed any man. These are they who scorn to teach humbly what they know, and cannot rightly show what they understand by reason, because, placed on a height, they deceive the minds of those who grieve, nor do they refer the cause to the giver of knowledge, but look back upon their own excellence in themselves.

There are also those who widen their fringes, magnify their phylacteries, seek more prominent seats in public spectacles, and desire to be called and saluted by all with the name "Rabbi." Such men, indeed, the gathering of all good men will justly repel from itself, the claim of diligence being set aside. But when a novice of good inquiry has entered the schools for the sake of reading, having assumed strictness within, it must be considered that at the time of dawn he should continuously begin with a low voice, ascending moderately in a rounded manner, unless a great necessity compels waiting. For if the master's diligence presumes to wait for some beyond the due time, the delay of idleness confuses them, and they will be worn down by the rancor of anger. But when the disciple of idleness, the craftsman of drowsiness, has come to know the master's diligence, he will either hasten earlier, or, ashamed and confused, he will doze off in reproach of this. But let him not do as the poet Assuerus commands, whom the idleness of the disciples of Dromo Castor could not rouse to laughter. Indeed, with him snoring daily at the first hour, with rough nails making music part by part, and with bleary eyes exploring the light, as his companions arrived for the morning's work and the business in the schools, he would say: "Is the dawn still confused by the blush of day?" And when they denied this, he, drowsy, would fill the middle part of the day, giving thanks to God, for he preferred to have the hardness of a sane head than the inexperience of an insane one.

If he were present at a noonday disputation, not knowing how to depart from his natural habit, he would snore with watchful nose, and to his neighbors he would offer disgust by the noise of his porcine gnawing. When at times he would draw in vegetables as his second delight, he committed his mouth to gaping and his eyes to sleep. His hand, though filthy, would seize something in the dish, but sleep proved harmful to him as he sought to imprison his food. To what fruit of maturity, O Marciane, dearest of comrades, do you believe this man will attain, since your intention knows it? If a noonday teacher approaches his study for the sake of disputation, care must be taken that he not flourish with sophistic equipment, nor be moved by difficulties, but armed with diligent premeditation, intrepid, he should approach the contests, and compose them with an easy mind, and arrange in his memory whatever anyone objects, so that at the time of disclosure he does not depart from the path of reason but, with appropriate order, having assumed moderation in elucidating enigmas, he should solve them explicitly. If, however, as often happens, the greatest doubt occurs to discerning minds in disputation, deliberation must be used in studies, and what the mind, agitated by natural deaths, has dictated to conscience, is to be put forth on the morrow.

In the same way, if someone has premeditated something very difficult, it is to be commended to discretion; for in discussing, a tiny spark of difficulty is more often found than if it were committed to the observance of study, since the truth of knowledge is not found in one thing alone, as Aristotle says. It is also to be noted that the knowledge of the discreet person usually employs three modes in its traditions: namely, to glory in new and unusual editions, to cloak the minds of disciples in old and gloomy ones, and yet to excite the understandings of believers by very ancient ones, renewed and flowing as if from their own streams. If, however, one of these disciples delights in sagacity, he is to be joined to the archscholar, so that he may either faithfully imprint upon them the series of recollection or commend the diligence of copying. For great profit is gathered in these matters. But in order that the disciple may in time reach the pinnacle of mastery, he must dwell on the continuity of study, and must insist on a more secluded retreat, even if he is of a sanguine temperament, lest the noise of those present dull his mind, or the quarrel of those moving about confuse his understanding, with no bonds hindering the vital spirits. For it is consistent with propriety that a master exist as a solitary one, searching out secrets, rather than that he exhibit his presence to all by drawing out booklets: does not the son of detraction, seeing the master’s diligence in drawing out books, think about how much he would meditate?

If in the early time the diligence of the teacher has not had a multitude of learners, he should not grow lukewarm on that account, nor vanish with hope abandoned, but should apply himself to his studies all the more keenly, and present himself vigorously in the contest, so that, even if with few, he may attain honor. For we have often seen that, with the zeal for depth flourishing, many who were charmed by the company of a few have been vigorously enrolled. Was not Theophrastus, the craftsman of subtlety, supported by the adornment of a few, defrauded of the hope of ruling, abandoned his care—which he nevertheless did rashly? For he would have acted more wisely if he had shown himself commendable by the observance of study. Yet by the gifts of the teacher Leontinus, discretion acquired for itself the company of many. For he judged it more beautiful to act thus than to be deprived of a throng of learners. But the rector of scholars, charmed by the scope of piety, is bound to soothe the hearts of pupils living in poverty and studying diligently, namely by food, shoes, and at least worn clothing, if resources permit, and to assist with other gifts, and with counsel, as is fitting, that is encouraging. For what nature is more excellent, or what sweeter, than the distribution to true scholars? For is it not more excellent to cherish a scholar in those things in which the giver’s part is least?

exhibition, but the greatest readiness of the poor recipient, by which the detestable incursions of actors and prostitutes are soothed. Although fortune may sometimes stand cloudy, yet the teacher’s care should not despair, but always governing himself courteously, he should manfully bear the incursions, expecting sweeter times. O the shameful transaction of Coriandus! But if, due to the impulse of a festive season, it pleases him to visit places of delight, the teacher’s discretion should always keep with him the nobler and more eminent in form of his company, lest he be seen as destitute of solace by many, or lest he be drawn into danger. Maro’s leap grieved at being deprived of the company of fortunate disciples. But although he ought to be strict in the schools, yet he should remain devoted in greeting upon entry, cheerful in speech to those who pass by, companionable to those who play, faithful in admonition to those who stay, cautious in chastity with relatives, lest if any foulness of a sighing nose be present, a friendly kinship should drink it in. The final part of the present volume is a compilation concerning teachers, whom poverty has driven to invade the boundaries of the liberal disciplines as a stepmother. And concerning those whom the sweetness of the fatherland naturally recalls, let us say something in summary.

When someone seeks the sweetest scent of gain to repel the cause of poverty, it must be considered that, with the honor of the magistracy preserved, he should adhere to frugality as much as he can, strive for modest clothing, and especially devote himself to the governance of the scholars, first showing a kindly face to the boys and a more kindly address to their parents, and promising the most kindly attention to teaching, so that not only may he soften the hearts of the boys, but also draw out the money of the parents, and enhance his reputation, while he is thought to defend the rights of the school regularly, having first been taught the order of teaching. To those same students who are somewhat older, he should show himself strict, and shape their mouths for speaking correctly, constrain their fingers for writing, and altogether conform them for reading, with the rigor of justice accompanying him, so that he may be suitable not only in doctrine but also in pleasantness, and grant timely space for play, and under no circumstance withdraw the benefits of teaching. But if he finds a student contumacious and proud, he should gently chastise him and set forth examples of conduct by which he may be restrained; otherwise, with the parents' consent, he will be afflicted with rods, so that, chastened to the nail, he may escape, lest, in despair, he fall into disgrace. When, however, the love of the teacher has as participants those scholars whose entry is chilled by age, the statue-like, and the planet-struck, if the file of correction cannot work among them, one must smile at the aged, groan at the statue-like, and rejoice with the planet-struck at the pretense of favor.

Let those with curled hair and shaggy locks be scorched, and let him drench those steeped in rouge with tears that water the gullet, and let him cautiously expel the soft ones, lest they, once disturbed, share in the guilt of his mind. It must also be noted that those through whose expenditure the laborious struggle is mitigated, in them the doctrinal effect is proven, for the effect of things is declared by the exhibition of the work. Moreover, they are to be summoned in turn in a fitting order, so that by faithful scrutiny it may be revealed what the daily labor of the subordinates has expended. For the care of subordinates is not always to be trusted, since their greed is often softened by broken coins, or fidelity grows lukewarm when hope is defrauded, or power becomes harsh so that they may appear faithful. Just as mercy is to be shown to happy poverty, so no less is one to insist attentively on its own teachings. When a poorer dinner is at hand, the means are to be distributed to the table companions, and extended to the familiars and accomplices of the invited neighborhood, lest a familiar voice secretly reveal something by detracting, or the prodigal old woman of multiplicity draw near by joining with the old woman. But what is more futile than a knowing old woman? Let forward rapacity be far from the smallest things, and stepmotherly hunger and hooked tenacity. It is also to be guarded against that the boy not play in the dusty sand there for more than three years, even if the greatest abundance of companions or treasure is at hand, and the opulence of love is considered, unless the promotion of honor thrives in love or the elevation of resources in honor.

When, however, on account of the delights of one’s native land and the venerable sights of one’s parents, someone has taken up the care of governing on the border of his birthplace, he must insist upon pompous speech. He must smile in turn upon cautious and splendid administration, and rejoice in the variety of garments, since the elegance of many-colored clothing and the insignia of rings compel many to obtain something other than what truth demands. Adornment, favor, and charm of speech drive very many, once they have been compared with erroneous sense, to appear to surpass Homer, provided, however, that the previously outlined order of teaching is diligently observed. Also, the harmful desire for jests must be more carefully removed, so that what rarely occurs—provincial honor—may raise fame to the commendation of a title. But the more the title of elegance has arisen, the more one must insist upon the favor of subordinates, so that what cannot be brought forth by the tumults of one’s own mouth may be dispensed by their timely speeches, so that he may be regarded as commendable not only in the sweetness of his manners, but also in the sharpness of his own ability. When, however, commendation of both manners and ability has come to light in public, care must be taken lest incest bow the head, adultery confuse the face, the stench of illicit malice blacken good reputation, lest roses emitting their springtime scent seem to expire, and lilies sought by the sweat of chastity appear to wither.

The venerable image of Crato, by the very accomplices of his own faculty, and also by others who had touched him with a single glance, provided cause and increase of grief. He who, in Castor’s lodging, on account of the delights of his wife Euphrasia, fell asleep, was found embracing, dragged by the hair, beaten with a whip, lacerated with wounds, rubbed with salt, drenched with the urine of slaves, cast into corners, raised on beams, and finally, with his torturers wearied, was deprived of his genitals, placed on a dunghill, exposed to passersby: an object of the people’s contempt, the disciples’ desolation, the comrades’ reproach, and a raw and cruel, wretched and most wretched spectacle of sorrow for all. The grace of kinship and the glory of lineage profited them in nothing. For although the first signs may sometimes be preserved unharmed, the last defilements of another flavor will remain, etc. I also advised to unloose the song of the knowing, I am borne from the citadel with a deaf face turned aside. Let it not shame to have built snares from a sown mound, while the wide crop stirs up rumor-bearing sounds. At times, borderland rage was present. While I speak, from the fourth chapter consult the work. I beg you, O youths, for whom youth is to be celebrated, let my lyre now suggest harmless measures.