deformed. The Persians honoured eagle-nosed people on
account of Cyrus, who, they say, had such a shaped nose.
_Vel._ The fore-arm and bend of the arm (_ancon et
campe_) are to the arm what the ham of the knee and the
knee are to the leg; thence the upper arm (_lacertus_)
down to the hand, from the muscles of which also the legs
are called muscular (_lacertosa_).
_Gryn._ Is not this the ell (_cubitus_) as used by those
who are measuring?
_Vel._ Yes, and _ancon_ is another name for it.
_Gryn._ Is not that the way the Roman king came by his
name, Ancus?
_Vel._ It was by his curved elbow.
_Gryn._ The hand follows, the chief of all instruments.
The hand is divided into fingers, thumb, forefinger, the
middle or disreputable finger, the next to the smallest,
and the smallest.
_Vel._ Why has the middle finger a bad name? What crime
has it perpetrated?
_Gryn._ Our teacher said that he knew indeed the cause,
yet he was not willing to explain it, because it would
be unseemly. Don’t seek, therefore, to know, for it
does not become a well-brought-up youth to inquire into
disgraceful matters.
_Vel._ The Greeks named the finger next to the smallest,
δακτυλικόν, _i.e._ to say, the ring-finger.
_Gryn._ Clearly so, but on the left, not the right hand,
because on it, formerly, they were accustomed to wear
rings.
_Vel._ For what reason?
_Gryn._ They say that a vein stretches from the heart
to it. If the finger is encircled by a ring it is as if
the heart itself is crowned. The knots on the fingers
are called knuckles, and this word is used for a knock
of the fist. Between the knots are joints and these are
called by the general term, joints (_artus_) and knots
(_articuli_). It has been handed down to memory, that
Tiberius Caesar had such hard knots that he could bore
through a fresh apple with his fingers.
_Vel._ Have you learned chiromantia?
_Gryn._ I have only heard the name. What is it?
_Vel._ You would have been able to interpret the lines on
the hands by it.
_Gryn._ I have said I know nothing of it, and so it
is. But if now I were to profess to know something and
looked attentively on your hand, gladly you would listen
willingly to me, and to a man utterly unskilled in this
mode of imposture you would not altogether refuse your
confidence!
_Vel._ How so?
_Gryn._ Because it is the nature of man to listen gladly
to those who profess that they will announce secret
things or what is about to happen.
_Vel._ Why are the Scaevolae so called?
_Gryn._ As if _scaevae_; from _scaea_, which is the left
hand. They say that there are more of the female sex
left-handed than in our sex.
_Vel._ What is _vola_?
_Gryn._ The hollow of the hand in which the lines are.
_Vel._ What does _involare_ mean?
_Gryn._ That which you are doing. Gladly to steal, to
snatch and hide as if in the hollow of the hand, and as
the raving Lucretia did when she snatched at the eyes of
her serving-women.
[Then follows the Latin for the different parts of the
trunk of the body.]
_Vel._ Do you know the seat of the virtues in the body?
_Gryn._ No; where are they placed?
_Vel._ Modesty in the forehead; in the right hand
faithfulness; and sympathy in the knee.
_Gryn._ The sole of the foot is not itself the base of
the foot.
_Vel._ So many think.
_Gryn._ Pliny observes that there is a people who make
for themselves at mid-day a shadow with the sole of their
foot, so great and broad it is! How is it possible?
_Vel._ Clearly the sole in their case reaches from the
thigh-bone to the toes.
XXIV
EDUCATIO—_Education_
FLEXIBULUS, GRYMPHERANTES, GORGOPAS
The last two dialogues are παραινετικοὶ or ethical, in
the former of which he instructs the boy prince, in the
second any one in general.
Flexibulus is a name borrowed from Varro, who uses the
word _flexibula_ (pliant, flexible). Gorgopas is a name
derived from the idea of a stern countenance, such as
that of Gorgon is said to have been. Hence γοργωπὸς,
having the eyes or face of Gorgon. Eurip. in _Hercules
furens_. The precepts in this dialogue of Vives are
sacred and most wise. They should be known thoroughly
by all sons of princes, for without doubt they would
act much better in human affairs if they kept them in
view. There are three parts in this dialogue, Exordium,
Contentio, and Epilogus. The Exordium contains the
“occasion” and “final cause.”
I. _Introduction (Exordium)_
_Flex._ Wherefore did your father send you here to me?
_Grym._ He said that you were a man unusually well
instructed, wisely educated, and for that reason
well-pleasing to the state. He desired that I, walking in
your steps, might reach a like popularity.
_Flex._ How do you think that you will secure this?
_Grym._ Through the noble education which all say that
you have yourself. My father added that this education
would become me better than any other person.
II. _The Controversy_
_Flex._ Tell me, my boy, how you came to be instructed on
this matter by your father?
_Grym._ It was not so much my father who instructed me
by his precepts as my uncle, an old man, versed in many
things, and long in the counsels of kings.
_Flex._ What then did they teach you, my son and friend?
_Gorg._ Most wise man, look to it that by chance you
don’t slip through ignorance into some foolish word or
deed, or into something boorish, by which you would lose
that name of being educated in the best manner.
_Flex._ What! is that name so lightly lost by you?
_Gorg._ Even through single words, with the single
bending of the knee, with a single inclination of the
head.
_Flex._ Ah! you have matters too delicate and feeble with
you—but with us we have much more robust and vigorous
standards!
_Gorg._ Our judgments are like our bodies, which can put
up with no tripping.
_Flex._ On the contrary, as is easily seen, it is your
bodies, rather than your minds, which can bear labour.
_Gorg._ Perhaps you don’t know who it is whom you call
son and friend.
_Flex._ Are not these honourable names, and full of
benevolence?
_Gorg._ Full of benevolence, perhaps, which we don’t
count much of, but not of dignity and respect, which
we seek as being important. For this gentleman is
not accustomed to be called “friend.” And don’t you
understand that he has the prefix of “sir” (_domine_)
when he is addressed, and that he has a retinue of
varied-coloured liveried men? Have you not further
noticed that there were so many wax-tapers, so many
badges of honour, so many mourners at the parental
ceremonies of his grandfather’s funeral?
_Flex._ What then? Do you aim at being a lord over
everybody and to have no friends?
_Grym._ So my relations have taught me!
_Flex._ Then may your excellence, my lord (_mi domine_),
present some overwhelming proof of the right teaching of
your relatives!
_Gorg._ You seem to me to sneer at this boy. He is not a
common boy, so don’t treat him so!
_Family Teaching_
_Grym._ In the first place, they have taught me that I
am of most honourable lineage, which yields to none in
this province, and, on that account, I must take care
diligently, and strive earnestly, not to degenerate
from the rank of my ancestors; that they have won great
honour to themselves by yielding to no one in position,
dignity, authority, in name, and that I ought to do the
same. If any one should wish to detract from that honour,
immediately I must fight him. It behoves me to be lavish
with money, and even profuse, but sparing and frugal
in paying honour to others. That it behoves me, and
those like me, by no means to rise up in the presence of
others, nor to make way for them, nor to let them lead
me, hither and thither, nor to bare the head or bow the
knee to them; not as if any one could deserve to be shown
such honours from me, but that so I shall conciliate
to myself the favour of men, shall catch the breeze of
popularity, and shall obtain that honour which we always
so greatly have borne in men’s mouths and hearts! It is
in this education that the difference exists between
those who are nobles, and those who are not; since the
noble has been rightly accustomed to be educated to
excel in all these matters, whilst the common people
(_ignobiles_), trained to rustic manners, in none of
these things.
_Flex._ And what thinks your excellency, my lord, of such
a method of education?
_Grym._ What indeed! Why, it is by far the highest, and
worthy of my race.
_Flex._ What else then do you seek to learn from me?
_Grym._ In my opinion, nothing further would remain to be
learned, had not my father hurried me hither to you. My
father ordered me, or rather rigidly enjoined me, to come
to you; so that if there was anything of a more hidden
kind, and more sacred as if of mysteries, by which I
might get more honour for myself, then that you might, as
a favour to him, not feel it a burden to expound it, that
thus our family, so honourable and exalted, may ascend
still higher, since there are not a few new men who,
relying on their opulence, have come to light, and seized
upon dignities and honours so that they even dare to vie
with the old standing and honours of our race.
_Flex._ Shameful thing!
_Grym._ Is it not?
_Flex._ This would be visible to a blind man!
_Grym._ Certainly. These new men march about with a long
company of followers, themselves in gold-decked clothes
or clothes of flowered velvet, or clothes gay as those
of Attalus, so that we seem nothing before them, for we
are clothed in velvet to hide our poverty. If you will
undertake this labour, the reward for thy labour will be
that thou wilt be received by my father in the number of
our family, and wilt be admitted to his favour and mine,
and in process of time, wilt receive some promotion from
us. Thou wilt always be amongst our clients and, as it
were, under our protection.
_Flex._ What could be a greater reward or more to be
desired? But tell me now, if thou uncoverest the head or
givest way or addressest any one blandly, why art thou
pleasing to them with whom thou hast dealings?
_Grym._ Just because I meet them in this way.
_Flex._ All these externalities are only the signs
which denote that there is something in the heart, on
account of which they love you, for no one loves them for
themselves.
_Grym._ Why should not everybody love those things which
are of honourable bearing, especially in my grade of
nobility?
_Flex._ Thou hast not yet advanced to that degree that it
should be permitted to thee to say so, and thou thinkest
that thou hast arrived at the very highest.
_Grym._ I have no necessity to get knowledge and
education. My forefathers have left me enough to live
upon. And even if this were lacking, I should not seek my
living by those arts, or by any means so low, but with
the point of the lance and with drawn sword.
_Flex._ This is high-spirited and fierce, as if indeed
because you are of noble rank you would not be a man.
_Grym._ Fine words, those!
_Flex._ Which part of you is it that makes you a man!
_Grym._ Myself as a whole.
_Flex._ Is it by your body, in having which you don’t
differ from a beast?
_Grym._ By no means.
_Flex._ Not then yourself as a whole, but therefore by
your reason and your mind?
_Grym._ What then?
_Flex._ If, therefore, you permit your mind to be
uncultivated and boorish but cherish your body and
take thought for it alone, don’t you transfer yourself
from the human, into the brute, condition? But let us
return to the topic on which we began to speak, for this
digression, if I gave way to it, would lead us a long
way from our purpose. If thou, therefore, yieldest place,
and uncoverest thy head, for what do others take you?
_Grym._ For a noble, nobly instructed and brought up.
_Flex._ You are too uncouth. Did you hear nothing at
home about the mind, about honesty, about modesty, and
moderation?
_Grym._ In the church, sometimes, I have heard of these
things from preachers.
_Flex._ When those who meet you see what is done by you,
they judge that you are a modest, honest young man,
approving of your actions towards them, judging modestly
and thinking humbly of yourself. Thence the opinion of
benevolence and graciousness is formed of you.
_Grym._ Please be more explicit.
_Flex._ If people knew that you were so proud that you
looked down on them all with contempt, that you bared
your head and bent your knee to them, not because that
honour was due to them, but because it redounded to your
honour to do it, do you think there would be any one who
would take pleasure in you, or would love you for your
honours sprung from such false dissimulation?
_Grym._ For why?
_Flex._ Because you do honour to yourself, and take
pleasure in it—not to them. For who will consider himself
indebted to you for that which you do for your sake?
Or shall I receive your honour not for itself, but as
an outlay which thou offerest for a good opinion of
thyself, not as due to my merits?
_Grym._ So it seems.
_The Teaching of the Better View of Education—Right Government of
Oneself_
_Flex._ Therefore, benevolence is won if people believe
that honour is paid to _them_, not that _thou_ shouldst
be held more courtly and noble. This will not happen,
unless they have the opinion of thee, that thou esteemest
them higher than thyself and holdest them worthy of thy
honour.
_Grym._ But this does not happen.
_Flex._ If it does not happen, then they must be deceived
on this point, or else thou wilt never obtain what thou
so keenly desirest.
_Grym._ By what way can you persuade me to think so?
_Flex._ Easily. Apply your mind carefully to what I say.
_Grym._ Go on, I beg. For I am sent on this very account
to you, and you shall always be amongst our _clientèle_.
_Flex._ Ah, that apple is too raw for me!
_Grym._ What do you whisper?
_Flex._ I say the only way will be for you _to be_ what
you wish to be thought to be.
_Grym._ How so?
_Flex._ If you wish to make anything warm, do you then
bring it to an imaginary fire?
_Grym._ No, but to a real fire.
_Flex._ If you wish to cleave anything in two, will you
use a picture of a sword depicted on tapestry?
_Grym._ No, an iron sword.
_Flex._ Is there not the same strength with real things
as with artificial ones?
_Grym._ Apparently there is a difference.
_Flex._ Nor wilt thou effect the same with a simulated
moderation as with real modesty, for falsity at some time
or other shows itself for what it is; truth is always the
same. In fictitious modesty you say something sometimes
or do something, publicly or privately, when you forget
yourself (for you are not able always and everywhere
to be on your guard), whereby you are caught in your
pretences. And as formerly men loved you, since they
did not yet know you, afterwards, and for a long time
afterwards, they hate you when they have got to know you.
_Grym._ How shall I note this modesty so as to be able to
appropriate it as thou teachest?
_Flex._ If thou wilt persuade thyself of what is actually
the case, that other people are better than thou art.
_Gorg._ Better indeed! Where are these people? I suppose
in Heaven, for on earth there are very few equal; better,
no one!
_Grym._ So I have heard often of my father and my uncle.
_Flex._ The circumstance that you do not understand the
significance of words leads you far from the knowledge
of truth. Tell us, what do you call good, so that we may
know if there is a better than thyself?
_Grym._ What do I know of the good? The good comes from
being the offspring of good parents.
_The Real “Good”_
_Flex._ This, therefore, is not yet known to thee, what
it is to be good, and yet you talk about what being
“better” means. How hast thou reached to the comparative,
when as yet thou hast not learned the positive? But how
dost thou know that thy forefathers were good? By what
mark canst thou make that clear?
_Grym._ What! do you deny that they were good?
_Flex._ I did not know them! How can I then assert
anything of their goodness either way? By what method of
reasoning canst thou prove that they were good?
_Grym._ Because every one says so of them; but why, I
beg, do you ask me all these vexatious questions?
_Flex._ These questions are not vexatious, but necessary,
so that thou canst understand what thou art inquiring
from me.
_Grym._ Confine your answer, I beg, to a few words.
_Flex._ Many words are necessary to explain that of which
you have so crass an ignorance. But since you are so
fastidious, I will speak more briefly than the matter,
in itself so great, demands to have said of it. Look at
me whilst I expound it. Who are the people who are to be
called learned? Are they not those who have learning? or
are they the rich? or those who have money?
_Grym._ Undoubtedly, those who have learning.
_Flex._ Who, then, are the good? Are they not those who
have what is good?
_Grym._ Clearly so.
_Flex._ Let us dismiss now the idea of riches, for they
are not in themselves really good. If they were, then
many people would be found to be better than your father.
Merchants and usurers would then surpass honest and wise
men in goodness.
_Grym._ Thus it seems, as you say.
_The Statement of the Problem (Propositio)_
_Flex._ Now, further, weigh what I am about to add in
points one by one. Is there not something good in a keen
intellect, a wise, mature judgment, whole and sound; in
a varied knowledge about all kinds of great and useful
affairs; in wisdom; and in carrying into practice these
qualities; in determination; in dexterity in pursuing
one’s business. What do you say of these things?
_Grym._ The very names of these qualities seem to me
beautiful and magnificent. So much more are the things
themselves great!
_Flex._ Well, then, what shall we say of wisdom, what
of religion, piety towards God, to one’s country,
parents, dependants, of justice, temperance, liberality,
magnanimity, equability of mind towards calamity in human
affairs, and brave minds in adversity?
_Grym._ These things also are most excellent.
_Flex._ These things alone are _the good_ for men. All
the remaining “goods” which can be mentioned are common
to the good and to the bad, and therefore are not true
“goods.” Observe this, please, well!
_Grym._ I will do so.
_Assumptio (Hypothesis)—Complexio (Conclusion)_
_Flex._ I wish thou wouldst, for thy disposition is
not bad, but is not well cultivated—as yet. Think now
well over this matter, whether thou possessest those
goods, and, if thou dost, how few thou hast, and in what
slender proportions! And if thou examine this question
acutely and subtly, then wilt thou eventually see that
thou art not yet adorned and provided with goods, great
and many, and that no one amongst the mass of people
is less provided with them than thyself. For among the
multitude are old people, who have seen and heard much,
and persons experienced in most things. Others there are,
devoting themselves to studies, who sharpen their wits
by learning, and become cultured men; others engage in
public affairs; others occupy themselves with authors,
who will give them the knowledge they want. Others are
industrious fathers of families. Others follow various
arts and excel in them. Even peasants themselves—how many
of the secrets of nature they possess! Sailors, too, know
of the course of day and night, the nature of winds,
the position of lands and seas. Some of the people are
holy and religious men, who serve the Deity with devotion
and worship Him. Others enjoy success with moderation
and bear adversity with bravery. What dost thou know of
these? What energy like theirs dost thou practise? In
what dost thou excel? In nothing at all except that “No
one is better than me: I am of a good stock.” How canst
thou be better, when as yet thou art not _good_? Neither
thy father nor thy relations or ancestors have been good,
unless they had these things which I have recounted. If
they had them, you can tell. But I doubt it much. You
certainly will not be good, unless you become like those
I have described.
_Grym._ You have quite given me a shock, and made me
ashamed. I cannot find anything to even mutter in reply!
_Gorg._ I have understood none of these things. You have
cast darkness before my eyes.
_Flex._ Naturally. For you came to these considerations
too uncouth, too long infected and enslaved in contrary
opinions. But you are a young man. How do you think you
are going to be classed? as a master (_dominus_) or as a
slave?
_Grym._ As a slave. For if it is as you have expounded,
and I know nothing which seems truer than what you say,
there are very many much greater and more distinguished
than I am, who are slaves.
_Flex._ Don’t be lightly disgusted at what I have said.
Betake yourself home. Alone, think over what I have
said. Examine my statements, ponder over them. The more
you turn them over in mind, the more you will recognise
they are true and certain.
_Grym._ I beseech you proceed, if you yet have further to
add, for I feel that at this moment I am a changed man.
For the future I shall seem to be another person from my
former self.
_Flex._ Would that it may happen to thee as it did to the
philosopher Polaemon!
_Grym._ What happened to him?[84]
_Flex._ Owing to a single oration of Xenocrates, from
being one of the worst and most incorrigible, he turned
out most studious of wisdom and the seeker of every
virtue, and was the successor of Xenocrates in the
Academy. But thou, my son, now openly hast recognised to
how great a degree is lacking in thee the goodness, which
others have in an overflowing measure. Now truly, and of
thine own good will, thou yieldest place to others and
honourest the good in them where thou seest them well
furnished, and where thou seest thyself to be deficient.
And if thou thus humblest thyself, and seemest to be of
slight attainments, thou wilt meet no one for whom thou
feelest abject contempt, and whom thy conscience in thy
heart does not place before thyself. For thou wilt not
be led away to believe any one to be worse than thyself,
unless his badness and malice manifest themselves
openly, whilst thine own evil carefully skulks within and
is ashamed.
_Grym._ And what follows?
III. _Epilogue_
_Flex._ If thou doest these things, then wilt thou
get the real, solid, noble education itself, and true
urbanity; and if, as we are supposing now, thou followest
after a courtly life, thou wilt be pleasing to all and
dear to all. But even this thou wilt not set at high
value, but what will then be the sole care to thee will
be, to be acceptable to the Eternal God.
XXV
PRAECEPTA EDUCATIONIS—_The Precepts of Education_
BUDAEUS, GRYMPHERANTES
There are three parts to this dialogue: Exordium,
Narratio, and Epilogus.
I. _Introductory (Exordium)_
_Bud._ What is this so great and so sudden a change in
you? It might be included in Ovid’s _Metamorphoses_.
_Grym._ Is it a change for the better or the worse?
_Bud._ For the better, in my opinion, at least, if one
may argue and estimate as to the goodness of a mind from
outward countenance, bearing, words, and actions.
_Grym._ Can you then, my most delightful friend,
congratulate me?
_Bud._ I do indeed congratulate you and exhort you to go
on, and I pray God and all the saints, that you may have
just increase day by day of such fruitfulness. But please
don’t grudge so dear a friend as I am, to impart the art
so distinguished and glorious, which could in so short a
time infuse so much virtue in a man’s heart.
II. _The Exposition (Narratio)_
_Grym._ The art and the fountain of this stream is that
very man who is so fruitful in goodness—Flexibulus, if
you know him.
_Bud._ Who does not know the man? He, as I have heard
from my father and my cousins, is a man of great wisdom
and experience of things, not only known to this city,
but also generally beloved and honoured as only few
are. Oh, fortunate that you are! to have heard him more
closely and to have conversed with him familiarly, and
thereby to have gained so great a fruit in the forming of
manliness!
_Grym._ By so much the happier art thou, to have had all
this born with you in your home, as they tell me, and to
be able, not once and again as I, but every day, as often
as you pleased, to listen to such a father, holding forth
wisely on the greatest and most useful topics.
_Bud._ Stop this, please, and let the conversation
proceed, with which we started, about thee and Flexibulus.