17 20 453 https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/01b56c6b54f0d0ba9c89942078cb9ceb.pdf 99dab03edb990ed85ee581009cc3f59f PDF Text Text 1~hls 1~ateriai n-iay- 1 6 protected by' Copyright l;qw (Trtte ·17 !J S. Code) FRANCISBACONAND THE CONQUEST OF NA'l'URE* by Laurence Berns The whole prospect and outlook of mankind grew immeasurably larger, ·and the rnul ti tude of ideas also proceeded at an incredible rate. This vast expansion . was unhappily not accompanied by any noticeable advance in the stature of man, either in his mental faculties or his moral character, but it buzzed the more. The scale of .events .around him assumed gigcintic proI:'ortions· while he remained cibout the same size. By comparison therefore he actually became much smaller. We no longer, had greatmen directing manageable affairs. Our need was . to discipline an array of gigantic and turbulent facts. To this task we have so far proved unequcll.. Science be-:stowed immense new powers on man and at the same time created conditions which were largely beyond his control. While he nursed the illu5ion of -growing mastery and exulted in his new trappings, he became the sport and presently the victim of tides and currents of whirlpools and tornadoes amid which · he was far more helpless than he had been for a long time. _:...Winston S. Churchill 1 The so-called conquest of nature by modern science·, the science associated with the names of Bacon, Descartes, Galileo and Newton, has transformed human life almost_beyond description. The new dependency of human life upon science, or its product, technology, pervades our thinking as wel_ as our prac.t ical lives. l It might even seem, from the recent suggestion to replace the term technology with the term "technotronics", that logos too had become outdated. *Base.don 1 Our awareness a lecture given at St. John's College, Annapolis, April 25",1975. . . Speech at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, April 1, 1949. THE GATHERING STORM, Boston, 1948, pp. 38-42; "Mass Effects in Modern Life" and "Fifty . Years Hence" in THOUGHTS AND ADVENTURES, 1.932. Cf. �-2- of the depth ' of this fundamental dependency should help us to avoid the hypocrisy of indulgi.n g in loose anti-scientific talk • . .Yet the threat of nuclear war, overpopulation, environmental pollution, the imbalance and disappearance of nature in the wild, and so forth, have all made the problematic character of the great project for the conquest of nature increasin~ly evident, even to non-philosophic thought. But dangerous consequences can be dealt with in more than one way. If the conception of nature underlying the cOI:iquest of nature by science is sound, the remedies for the ills consequent .upon the sO-calied conquest · of nature· are to. be found not in less, but more science, or in a fuller use of science to solve the problems inherent in the application of_ science to practice-. If, on the other hand, the dangers brought on by modern science are natural consequences o.f fundamental defects in the understandi.n g of nature presupposed by the project, we are directed .n ot only to the correction or reform of modern science, but to a consideration of the fundamental' alternatives to it. In either case the funda- mental problem turns out to be not only the problem of dangerous consequences, but rather unders.tanding the truth, . or adequacy, of the conception of nature underlying the notion of the conquest of nature. The modern project, especially with Bacon and Descartes, was worked out in explicit opposition to classical philosophy and science. is ~ot ' simply historical accident. This The meaning of the conquest of na- ture cannot be adequately understood ·without understanding the reasons for rejecting the view of nature it was formed in explicit opposition 2 to, the classical, or Platonic-Aristotelian idea ~f nature. The idea of the conquest of nature cannot itself be adequately understood apart from an understanding of the fundamental alternatives to it. I The first word of the first aphorism of Bacon'~ NEW ORGANON is "Man", · the . second "nature": "Homo, naturae minister'· et interpres, ••• "; 2 The common, Socratic, element in the philosophies of Plato and of Aristotle is discussed in my "Socratic and Non-Socratic P?ilosophy: a Note on Xenophon's MEMORABILIA .1.1.13 and 14", THE. REVIEW OF METAPHYSICS, September, 1974, pp. 85-88. �-3- "Man, the servant and interpreter of nature, does just so much and understands just so much of the order of nature as he has observeq in the thing or in the mind: he neither knows nor is able to know more." Man is the ~ervant of nature in so far as h~ can do or make nothing except by obeying the . hidden chain of causes •. Man is tbe interpreter of nature in so ~ar as he does not ·accept what ·he receives as self-evident,. but .rather · as results and signs only of t .h e hidden chain of causes. s.igns must be interpreted. Man should distrust l:>oth his natura·l faculties for judgement and the signs which nature on her own provides. him. It is in the third aphorism that we find the decisive phrase: . "For natu- e is · na·t conquered, except by being obeyed." r 3. The phrase · is on its .face .aosu~d~ or self-contradictory: the same thing .cannot both be. conquered and obeyed. Bacon too soiicits :interpretation. The word nature here .is . being used . in two senses. In his discussions of natural history Bacon provides us with the distinctions which resolve the contradiction. Natural history is divided according to the three ·conditions . in which nature is found. - There. is 1) nature in its-ordinary course, free and left to itself, as it presents itself to the ordinary understanding in the normal movements of. heavenly and terrestrial bodies, the normal generations of plants and animals; then 2) there is nature wandering, or in .error . when prodigies and monstro, sities are produced;. and finally 3) nature constrained and vexed, forced out of her · "natural" state, pressed an.d moulded by the . art aritl. hand of man. · It is from this third kind of ·history that. Bacon ·expects mqst. · "For just as in civil affair~ a man's disposition and the secret sense of his mind and affections are better discovered when he is troubled than at other times~ so likewise the secrets of . nature brin9 · themselves forward through the vexations. of art more .than 3unfortunately, in the· most widely read English translation, Spedding•s, among ·other 'inaccuracies, vincitur, "conq.lered", is usually translated as "conunanded". Spedding was probably misled by the ·imperatur of aph. 129. See ·Library of Liberal Arts; THE NEW ORGANON, ed. F.H. Anderson, pp. 19, lines 18 and 1 1 , 29, line 8, and 39; Modern Library, SELECTED WRITINGS ••• , ed. H.G. Dick, pp. 441, lines 21 and 22, 451, ·line 10, and 462. �-4-:when the}' go their own way." ill its ordinary course. 4 The nature to be conquered is nature The conquest is . to be accompl{shed through . the discovery of and obedience to the secret chain of causes hidden withinand operative throughout nature; which are to be revealed by experimental history and true interp.r etation. What is given to .human cognition in its ordi~ary course, by nature in itls ordinary course, does not provide the clue to the discovery of natw:;e's fundamental structures and laws. · We cq.nnot assume, as the ' ancients did, that·there is a natural harmony between the mind of ma,n and the world, that science and philosophy are the refinement and perfection of the ~atural cognition by· nature. understanding working on what is given to human Oil the contrary, whaf is given by nature to or- dinaxy cognition obscures and obfuscates man's way to the discovery of i the fundamental course of nature, to nature's fundamental laws. The first part, then, of the way to the conquest of nature is the "refutation of the natural human understanding." This culminates in the refutation of those philosophies that have been based upon this understanding. .These are, most . notably, the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, which take as .their fundamental task thinking through the . presuppositions and implications of the orientation of the natural 5 human understanding. The refutation of the natural human understanding is set forward most fully by Bacon in his discussion of the Idols of the Mind in 4NEW ORGANON, 5 (hereafter designated by" N.O.), I, aph • . 98. The refutation, or rejection of the natural human understanding has been tried in different ways. Cf. Descartes's "genium aliquem malignum" in Me-:ditation I: Hobbes's "feigning the world to be annihilated" in DE CORPORE, chap. 7; ahd LEVIATHAN, chap. 13, where .it is shown why the "condition of nature" is intolerable: John I.ocke,ESSAY CONCERNING HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, Book I; and ESSAY CONCERNING CIVIL GOVERNMENT, chap. v, where the part which nature (compared with labor) contributes to the value of things shifts from !/10th to l/lOOth to l/lOOOth, to "the almost worthless mate:i;-ials": Spinoza, ETHICS, Part I, Appendix: _ and G•.W .F. Hegel, PHANOMENOLOGIE DES GEISTES, Hoffmeister ed., 1952, Einleitung, pp. 66-68; Baillie trans., . pp. l35~137. Cf. _ Jacob Klein, GREEK MATHEMATICAL THOUGHT AND THE ORIGIN OF ALGEBRA, M.I.T. ~ress, 1968, pp. 72-74 and 117-121; and Leo Strauss, WHAT IS POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY?, Glencoe, 1959, "Political Philosophy and History" and "On Classical Political . Philosophy". �-5aphorisms 38 to 67 • 6 The idols are first mentioned in aph. 23 as ·"certain empty d_ grnas" in contrast to "the ideas · of the divine mind" o which are "the true s_gnatures and impressions ·made on creatures, as i they are · discovered." What Bacon intends by "ideas of the divine mind'' is not at first .altogether clear • . The next aphorism, . as if in answer .to the question, How is one to know what kind of. principles to. seek? 1 remarks that principles .c onstituted by arguments are not to be relied ·u pon, since the subtlety of ! nat~e is gre~ter many times over . thaii the subtlety of argtiment. . dis~overy Rather, principies that iead: to the . .· . . . . of new works; new particulars, that render the sciences ac- .tive, are to be sought~ In the search for those true signatures and impressions of the divine mind one is to look not for the divine ideas s themselves, as ideas, but as forces and laws, a_ it were, impressed .. in and shaping and_·governing creatures. This is not because Bacon was more :interested in practice, power or useful inventions than he was in theoretical truth, but because he thought that the active principles_ gdverning nature . are to be discovered primarily by determining what, how, .a nd under what; conditions things can be done, or produced. A theory is not confirmed as true simply ·because it leads to the production of new works, but new work;s are signs or pledges t J -iat one is · t least on the track of . truth. a Bacon's emphasis is on light- bearing over fruit-bearing experiments, that is on discovering causes rather . 1;.han on immediate usefu_lness. He was fond of recalling "the divine. procedure, whi_ in its first day's work created light only ch and assigned to it one entire day, on which it produced no material .· work." i Those who confine themselves too closely to practical utili- ty, he a.r gties, defeat their own purposes in the long ·run; .for from . the right kind. of light-bearing experiments and theories, not just occasional and isolated inventions will result," but whole "troops" of inventions. gether. The right kind of theory and inventions, or -works, go to8 6Aphorisms, Bacon wrote in DE AUGMENTIS ••• ,Book vi, chap. 2, represent knowl~dge as fragmentary and incomplete, thereby inviti_ g. the reader to conn tribute _ and supply what is .missing. 7 THE: GREAT INSTAURATION, Prefkce; and N.O., Boo~ I, apn. 70. �-6- Human reason as ordinarily used in the study of nature is by Bacon "Anticipations of Nature, call~d (as a thing rash and premature)." Anticipations of nature are contrasted with what he calls Interpretations of Nature, human reason rightly used. for rhetorical lectic, 9 p~poses, For gaining.assent, that is, an ti.cipations and the "sciences" and dia- or logic, based upon them are far more · powerful than Bacon's art of interpretation. They are more powerful as rhetoric pre- . cisely because they base themselves on and merely refine those universally shared delusions, or radical errors, inherent in the primary experience.s and notions of the native human understanding·. The analogies by which new '!=hings are related to old in philosophies based on anticipations,· like the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, lie in every man's common experience; the way of interpretation, on the other hand, must at fir·st sight seem forbidding and uncongeniaL It re- quires an initial suspension of belief about common· experience itself, and it? expositors must supply their own similitudes and compar'isons in order to gain passag·e to men 1 s minds. What .they must most rely on, hOWeVer r iS leading men tO particular things I Or faCtS I .themselves, or to those new experiences based on experiment which the understanding left to its natural inclinations would never come to~ The first class of idols, or false notions, whi.ch are rooted in the cbmmon natlire of 't he human mind · itself, Bacon calls Idols of the Tribe, that is the tribe or race of men. The human intellect is prone to suppose there is more order and regularity in things than it finds there • . It is more moved and excited by whatever agrees with and affirms opinions already a.dopted than by what negates them. It is per- meated. by infusions from the will and affections, and especially those wants that foster superstition. Without warrant it restlessly press- es on beyond all ends or limits, on to the unconditioned, as Kant would .say. "But by· far the greatest bUpediment and aberration of the 8 Cf. Paolo . Rossi, "Truth and utility in the Science of Franc.is Ba:C-on•\', in PHILOSOPHY, TECHNOLOGY AND THE ARTS IN~HE EARLY MODERN ERA, Harper Torchbooks, 1970, pp. 146-173; and Hans Jonas, "The Practical Uses of Theory", in THE PHENO'MENON OF LIFE, Harper & Row, 1966, pp. 188-210, esp., sec. v. 9 Bacon's usua. term for Aristotelian logic is dialectic, usually rendered by Spedding .... s "logic". �-7- human · intellect," Bacori'says . in aphorism 50, 0 proceeds ·from the dull- ne.s s, incompetency and deceptions of the senses." In his less popu...: lar natural history, S~LVA SYLVARUM, . (paragraph 98), .there is an interesti.n g discussion of the subject of· this aphorism, given as "touching the secret processes of nature .• " The knowledge . of man hitherto hath been determined by the view or sight; ·So that whatsoever is invisible, either in. respect of the fineness of the body itself, or the smallness of its parts, or of the stibtilty of the motion, is little inquired. And yet these be the things that govern nature prin...: cipally; 'and without whic:h yeti cannot make any true analysis and indication of the proceedings of nature. The spirits or pneumaticals, that are in all tangible bodies, are scarce known~ Sometimes they take them for vacuum; wherea·s they are th~ most active of bodies. Sometimes they take them for air; from ' which .they differ exceedingly, as much as wine from .wa- . ter; and as wood from earth. Sometimes they will have them to be natural heat, or a porti9n of the element of fire; whereas some of them are crude . and cold. And sometimes they will have them to be the virtues and qualities of the tangible parts which they see; whereas they are things by themselves~ And then,. when they come to plants and living creatures, they call them souls. And such superficial specu. lati<:ms .they have; like prospectives, that shew things inward, when they are but paintings. Neither is this a question of words, but infinitely material in nature. For spirits are nothing else but a natural body, rarified to a proportion, and included in the tangible parts of·bodies, as in an integument. And they be no ' less differing one from. the other, than the dense or tangible parts; and th~y · are in all tangible bodies whatsoever, more or less; and they are never almost at rest: and from them, and their motions, principally proceed arefaction, c;:olliquation, concoction, maturation, putrefaction, vivification, and most of the effects of nature •••• ·Aphorism SO . in the NOVUM ORGANON goes on: For the sense by itself is a thing infirm and erring; neither can instruments for enlarging or sharpening the sense do much; but all the truer kind of interpretation of nature is effected by instances and by experiments fit and apposite wherein the sense judges the experiment : only,· and the .experiment nature and the thing itself. �-8- Distrusti.n g ordinary sense experience, one must by. careful thinki.ng and plann~ng·subject the th~gs of nature to conditions of all kinds: pres- sures, · £orces, mixtures, . and so on, which would never be found in the ordinary course of nature, in ord.er that nature's normally secret operations "which are. too subtle for the sense" are forced to produce 10 "some effect comprehensible by the sense." Given nature is contorted and transformed under the. guidance of the notions the experiment is devised to confirm; disconfirm or illuminate, iri order to produce the kind of experience the experiment aims at. And it is still the senses, but the senses lawfully married to the rational faculty, that are our sources for evidence about the nature of things. Bacon's refutation of the natural human reason is not meant simply to disparage the intellect. The controlled experiment is to judge "nature and the thing itself." And the co~trolled experiment is the product of mind, duly warned and chastened, but also instructed and .even inspired • . .,A complete separa.:.. tion and solution, therefore, of nature must be made; not by fire in11 deed, but by the mind, .as if by a divine fire." In his preface to the second edition of the CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON Kant speaks of this "intellectual revolution" in natural science partly · discovered by and partly inspired by Bacon. and carried on by men like Galileo, Torricelli and Stahl. They learned that reason has insight only into that which it produces according to a project of its own, and that it must not ·allow itself to be kept, as it were, in nature's leadingstrings, but must itself show the way ••• constraining nature ·to give answers to questions of reason's own dete.r mining • ••• ~like 7 an appointed.judge who compels the witnesses to answer questions which he has· himself formulated. Bacon takes the name ·Of the next class of idols, Idols of the 10:rHE WORKS OF FRANCIS BACON, (hereafter des.ignated . WORKS} Spedding, . Ellis and Heath, eds., London, 1875, seven volumes, vol. iv, p. 412; I 11 N.O., Book II, aphs. 16 and 7. �-9- · cave, from what .he once speaks of as Plato's ,exquisitely subtle allegory. Buthe . s.peaks of our spirits being confined within "the caves of our bodies" and r.estricts these idols to those innate tendencies to error risi.ng from the special nature of individuals, and their special ~age habits~ education and accidental circumstances. Plato's of the cave, on the other hand, could be thought of .as encom- passing the subject matter of all of Bacon's first three classes of idols, idols of the tribe, of the cave and of the forum • . The idols of the forum, or market-place, being partly innate and . partly acquired . from without are placed between idols th.a t are innate, those of the tr:i1be and the cave, ·and those which are not innate, t .he idols of the theater. The idols of the forum are most troublesome of all, they stem f;rom the way ·words and names are formed. Words being for the most part framed according to the capacity of the vulgar draw the .intell~ct along the lines and divisions that seem most evident to vulgar .intellects. More .acute and diligent observers find words stand- ing in the way of communication of what they have seen in nature. The prudence of the mathematl.cians in beginni.n g with carefully framed .definitions is. good, but cannot cure the evil in dealing with natural and material things. What is required there are methodical and order- ly arrangements of individual instances. Men form names for things which do not exist, like Fortune or Prime Mover; and they form confused names ori the basis of hasty and unskillful abstractions from 12 things. The ·last of the four classes of ·idols; the idols of the theater, are from the dogmas; or fable's I or plays of philosophy. themselves innate, .that is, they depend upon the They are not acqu~sition or accep- tance ·of some philosophy; yet like everythi.n g else they have a natural basis. The peculiarities of the dif·ferent idols of the theater are to be traced bac:k to different special combinations of effects derived l2'In aphoi;isms 60 ·and 15 Bacon condemns the use of certain generally . accepted.names and notions. seems to have Aristotle;s categories in mind. But 1ames and notions from the category of quaI?-tity are not among those co tdemned. He �;..10..;. , from the workings of the innate idols of the tribe and cave. The idols of the forum affect all the philosophie~. Bacon speaks of three prominent types among the idols of the theater. The first is the sophistical, which to ensnare the assent o.f the greater number, bases itself upon common experience and common notions. The 111ost conspicuous example is Aristotle,' who led by the idol of the ~ cave .mentioned in aphorism 44 corrupted his natural philosopt"iy arid his ! metaJ?hysics with his favorite study, dialectic, or what Bacon also calls the Vulgar, or common, logic, the logic of the "Old" Organon. Aristo- tle fashioned the world out of categories, he tried to account for sensible differences and substances with words like entelechy and act which ·are words which describe certain kinds of thoughts rather than things. Even when he did resort to experiment in his more specialized physical and biol_ gical works he framed his questions in such a way o that his resort to experience was bound to confirm the positions he had decided upon in advance, ·a procedure warned _ gainst in aphorism 49 of a the .idols of the tribe. The second class of idols of the theater is the empirical school of philosophy, those who on a narrow basis of certain experiments and experience fly or leap up to universal principles and try to explain everythi_ g else on the basis of the principles observed in their experin ments. With great foresight Bacon warns that if his admonitions are heeded and ~en begin to leave sophistical philosophy, by which he .means Aristotelianism, to devote themselves seriously to experiments, this kind of idol could become a much greater hindrance to sound inquiry • . The third class of idols of the theater, superstitious philosophy, the corruption of philosophy by admixture of theology and superstition, is far more wide.spread, in his times, at any rate, Bacon claims. While contentious Aristotelian, sophistic philosophy ensnares the inte·1 1ect, this more poetical, more fanciful philosophy misleads it by flattery. The natural anlbition of the intellect to fly beyond all limits, warned against in aphorism 48, and the susceptibility of the intellect to �-11- influences from the affections and imagination, warned against in aphorism 49, are catered to and flatte~ed by this kind of philosophy. All idols are riot of equal rcink, and, Bacon explains_, this kind of idol is keyed to the. natural dispositions of more noble and lofty spirits . The most important example here is "Plato and his school"; 13 but. this "apotheosis of .error" shows itself in scholastic Aristotelian~ ism as well, in the introduction of abstract forms,. final causes and first causes. This unwholesome mixture of religion and philosophy i must !be stopped, Bacon said, not only becc:i.tise it makes for fantastic phil<;>sophy, ·b ut also because it leads to heretical religion. Ef- fecting .this separation seems to be one of the most incontrovertibly successful parts of Bacon's project. ! The. great failure · of ancient phiJosophy, however, a fa.i ling even . . . . . of the atomists whom Bacon praises as superior to ·Plato and Aristotle in natural philosophy, is that they m~e the quiescent principles ·of things out of which they are produced rather than the moving prin~ ciples through .which things are produced, the · objects · of their inquiries. The six received Aristotelian, or vulgar, distinctions of motion are merely popular c:i.nd make no penetration into nature. Bacon . gives fifteen and, later, nineteen different motions in his own pub- . lished accounts of the simple motions: 4 s The· ultimate or natural causes of the. e failures are dealt with in the last of the particular idols of the tribe in apborism SL The hWnan intellect is carried to abstractions ac'"". cording to its own nature; and things which are· in flux it feigns to be constant. The fault of abstractions is that they feign things ·in flux to be constant. In aphorism 52 Bacon provides a further clue to his meaning where he speaks of this idol arising from "the mode . of the impression." What he seems to have in mind is that the moving thing makes 13Cf. Plutarch Is LIVES ••• , Nicias, XXIII •· 1 '\n · Book III, chap. 4 of the DE AUGMENTIS •• • .I arid aph. 48 of N.O. I .Book II. These aphorisms dealing with superstitious philoso,PhY and the failure ·. to search. out the movi.n g principles of things are at the center of Book I (N .0.). �-12- . the sense _ memory and intellect, , an impression or impressions which remain constant in what is impre~sed, . that is, ~n thereby suggesti_ g that n what caused it in . the thi_ng itself is also fixed, !Vhereas. it is rea_ly l .in motion. The aphorism continues. But it is better to dissect nature than to abstract; as the school of Democritus did, which penetrated into nature more than the rest. Matter ought rather to be considered both in its schematisms andmeta-schematisms, and pure ac~, and law of action or motion: for forms are figments of the human spirit, unless you are willi_ g to call those laws of n action, forms. Bacon uses . the word form to describe the ultimate .objects of science because that word had become so venerable for so many of those he wanted :to lead down the path of his new scien~e; what he means are iaws of motion •15 The intellect in deali_ g with. things n in flux moves towards the c_ nstant, but "in nature nothing truly o exists besides individual bodies producing pure individual acts according to law. 1116 · The given compounded bodies of nature are to be dissected down to the · latent schematisms of more fundamen- · · tal bodies constituting them, the schematisms, or meta-schematisms of the more·fundamental simple natures constituting them are to be ·. studied especially with a view to ·the laws of action inseparable from their existence. The natural appetite of the intellect for con- ·stancy is to be satisfied by fixed modes, . orders, or laws of change. 15 In theVALERIUS TERMINUS, which was never published but evidently circulated privately, the equivalent, or corresponding term is "direction"r WORKs, vol. III, pp. 23?-41. Cf . Ellis's Preface, ibid., pp. 201-05~ This may be the best place to study what Bacon means by the remark -"that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule." (N.O., I, aph.3.) Cf. Paolo Rossi, FRANCIS BACON, FROM MAGIC TO SCIENCE, London, · 1968, pp. 193-201; and Mary B. Hesse, ''Francis Bacon", in A CRITICAL HISTORY OF WESTERN PHILOSOPHY, ed. D.J. O'Connor, Free Press of Glencoe, 1964, chap. 8. 16 . N.O., Book II, aph. 2. �-13...; B_eginning with natur.a l history and the naturallY: given· forms of the ordinary course of n_ature, like lions; oaks; . men and water, physics studies their material and efficient causes, that is, their latent schema.tisms and latent processes, with a view to th:e discovery of the truly_ simple natures and motions out of which they are compounded. What · simple ..natures are is not yet determinable, says Bacon, but he ·speaks of them as being more abstract and general natures like heat and span::... taneous rotation, attraction and magnetism. 17 .The s_ ggestion may be u that in the simple natures material ~onfiguration and simple motion coalesce as two inherently connected factors of what we might call uni•tary orde~ed material dynani.isms. 18 However that may be, the simple natures. constitute the "alphabet of nature". Met_ physics, in the literal a sense of "meta", after...;physics, begins with the alphabet and studies its "gram:i;iar" , that i.s how the simple natures are collected ·~ compounded · and combined to form the bodies and to produce the operations of the ordinary course of nature. Metaphysics studies formal causes, that is the laws of action of the simple natures, the laws which order and constitute any simple nature in any subject matter susceptible of that nature. The operative part .of metaphysics Bacon calls ;,magic" s_uggesting · by the term that on the basis of the new natural· science men will be able to generate things ne:ver before seen in nature and of such a character as to rival in power, fineness and durability the. things pro~uced by natU.re in its regular course. The term also suggests that sue!) things · being alien to the ordinary course of nature could 17 .cf. on "simple natures", N.O., Book II, aph •. 5 and Descartes, RULES FOR THE DIRECTION OF THE MIND (INGENII), Rule 12 •. For Bacon's influence on Descartes s.e e A. Lalande, "Sur quelques textes de Bacon et de Descartes", REVUE DE METAPHYSIQUE ET DE MORALE, May, 1911, pp. 296-311. 18 . Cf. DE AUGMENT.IS ••• , Book III, chap. 4, on "Abstract Physics';. Cf. Laurence Berns, AN INTRODUCTION TO THE POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF FRANCIS BACON ••• , Ph.D. Dissertation, University . of Chicago, 1957, Appendix and pp. 175-78 and pp. 193-94. Cf. Rossi; ·£2._~ ·· cit., p. 202. �-14seem to be of supernatural origin. Bacon's use of the term meta- physics, li~e his use of the term form, cannot be _ understood · apart from · considerations of his philosophic rhetoric, for it seems to have been designed first to appeal to those who .might still be attracted by the traditional name, but only in order to lead them toward a very different notion of the thing. ., "All physics, " Bacon wr_ote, "lies in a mean between natural history and metaphysics." Metaphysics is "itself -a part of physics or of .the doctrine concerning nature. 11 1 9 That is, physics, in the broad sense of the word, beg1ns with -natural history _ nd ends in a metaphysics, with the laws of action of the simple natures. Bacon knew that there would be little left of traditional metaphysics, if his way were followed. A private letter of 1622, to a FatherBaranzano in Italy, reveals his intention in part: Be not troubled about Metaphysics~ When the true Physics have been discovered there will be no Metaphysics. 'Beyond true Physics is Divinity only. "The human intellect," he wrote in the NOVUM ORGANUM, "must not be supplied with wings, but rather with lead and weights. 1120 Are Bacon's "forms", his . laws of motion, forerunners of the m.;ithematical formulas of Newtonian physics? certain. It is difficult to be He did say that physics should end in mathematics.- He did not seem to appreciate what might be accomplished by framing one's initial hypotheses . in terms that are representable by mathematical syriibols~ 21 One might say that he foresaw what· the 9-c;>als of mathematical physics were to be, without bein~ clear about the mathematical means 19 oE AUGMENTIS .•• ; Book III, chap. 4, and Book "IV; end; in WORKS, vol. rv, pp. 347 and 404. 20 Book I, aph. l04 ~ . 2lcf. Jacob Klein, op. cit., note 5, above, Part I, Introduction, and Part II. �-15to those. goals. 22 "Inquiries into· nature have the best result when they begin with physics and. encl in mathematics." The nearer one approaches simple · natures, he .said, the easier and plainer everything becomes, as one moves· from the inconnnensurable to .the comine'n surable, from surds to rational quantities. .A gain, . "everything relating both to bodies and virtues in nature I should_/ be set forth {as far as possible) bered, weighed, measured . and determined. num:~ For we pursue· works not · speculations, and physics and mathematics well .mixed generate practice." And most interesti_ngly, we must · "measure virtues, · /-forces_/, "3.Ccording to the; quanti.t y of the · bodies- in which they subsist and show how far the mode! of the virtue depends upon the quantity of the body ••• we must pro~eed to inquire what proportion the .quantity of° a body bears to the mode Of its Virtue. II 23 However, the technique of representing physical 'e ntities by mathematical sym1Jols, so as to allow what one already knows from . mathematics to suggest undiscovered relationships between the r'epresented physical entities, was evidently not known to him. 1 Mathematics, he .sai·d1 "should terminate natural philosophy, not generate or give it birth." 24 He does not seem to have been very weli informed about the . . . history of mathematics or mathematical advances being made during his 22 . . . . But cf. Lalande, ~ cit., note 15, above, pp. speaks of Descartes's announcement (in RULES ••• , geometrical interpretation of sensible phenomena nearly word for .word a passage from theVAL:J?RIUS 309-311~ · where Lalande· no. 12) of the method of in words .which "reproduce TERMINUS." esp~ '4 7; Book I, aphs. 96 and 98; and P:REPARATIVE£-PARASCEVE_/ TO A NAWRAL AND EXPERIMENTAL HISTORY, aph. vii. _ Cf. Hans Jonas, "The Scientific and Technologic'al Revolu:.. tion", in PHILOSOPHICAL ESSAYS: FROM ANCIENT CREED TO TECHNOLOGICAL MAN, Prentice-Hall, 1974, pp. 63-65. Cf. Henry . Pemberton·, {editor of the third edition of Newton's PPJNCIPIA .•• ,), A VIEW OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S. PHILOSO~HY, London, 1728, Introduction, where the iinportance for Newtonian science of Bacon's critique of the prejudices and obstruc· tions impeding knowledge . and his treatment of induction are stressed. · 23 N.O., Book II, aphs •. 8, 45, 46, and 24 N.O., Book I, aphs. 96 artd 80; and DE AUGMENTIS ••• , Book III, chap. 6. �-16own times. 25 Yet the Baconian experiment seems to lend itself to com- bination with the approach of symbolic mathematical physics. Both methods approach nature with a view to discovering the extent to which nature is subject to ·1aws devised in advance by human reason. Both the Baconian experimenter and the mathematical physicist, in the .K antian phrfi~e, "prescribe to nature its laws." Baconian influence can, of course, be seen in other approaches to physics· and also in other sci, ; enc~s, iike chemistry and biology. However this may be, we now turn our' attention to an· area where the extent of Bacon's influence is less questionable: the new relation which was to be established between science and _society. II The ·"Great Instauration", great renewal, of the sciences called for a radical change in t:'.he way. science . and philosophy were to oarr1 on their affairs. And then let them consider · what may be expected (after the way has been thus indicated) from men abounding in leisure, and from association of labors, and :from succession of ages ••• in which the iabors· and industries of men (especially as regards the collecting of experience) may wi~% the best effect be first d.i stributed and then combined. Bacon's way was "not a way over which only one man can pass at a time (as is the case. with reasoning)." His way required a vast new insti- tutionalized science, coordinating the efforts of m~y men in acom- pleX, hierarchical organization, that was meant to outlast any of the individuals who were parts of it; th. t is, as we say, it was to become a . "historical" and progressive. This vast enterprise would require far greater suppori;. from society at large than science and philosophy had '\ ever received .before. There would come a time, Bacon hoped and 25see ibid. I and Ellis Is notes to the same in WO~, vol. I, p. 577. -26 . · ~' Book I, aph. 113. �-17expected, when society's dependence on -science would be extensive and obviou,s; but before that time came about, and if that time was to come about,_ the po~V"ers that be, "who are but in very few cases even moderate27 . ly learned,." · would have to be won over · to the ne\."1 cause. He· devoted a considerable · amount of thought and :writi_ g to this, his rheton rical task. To the extent that his project has succeeded, the need for, .and the understanding of, his rhetoric has diminished. Yet without some understanding of that" philosophic rhetoric, what he accomplished, both theoretically and practically, - can.not be appreciated. He regretted that· it was necessary for him, the architect of the new edifice of \ science·, to become herald, recruiter~ and even ordinary workman as well. We have already seen some of the consequences of his need to re. cruit new men of science in an atmosphere domi_ ated by Aristotelian, n Platonic and Scholastic learning in his use of the terms "form" and "metaphysics". In one . of his _interesting unpublished writings, which are often more open and less colored by classical terminology, he speaks about how his plans must be conununicated and transmitted : inveterate errors like deliriums of the insane must be subdued by art and by wit, and are aggravated by violence and opposition. We must, therefore, use prudence and humor them (as far as we can with simplicity and candor), that contraqictions may be extinguished before they are inflamed. 28 ~onathan Swift in his FULL AND TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE BATTLE FOUGHT LAST FRIPAY BETWEEN THE ANCIENT AND THE MODERN BOOKS IN SAINT JAMES '-S LI BRA.RY pays _ certain tribute -to Bacon in this r _ gard: a e 27N.O., .Book I, aph. 91. 28rHOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS,~OGITATA ET VISA), translated in the Montagu American Edl.tion of BACON'S WORKS, Philadelphia, 1855, vol. I, p. 434; original in WORKS, vol. III, 589 ff. Cf. F .H. _Anderson, THE PHILOSOPHY OF FRANCIS BACON; Chicago, 1948, -P· 38 ·. The trans_ lation in Montagu is more literal han the recent translation in THE ~HILOSOPHY OF FRANCIS BACON, . Benjam: Q Farrington, Liverpool, 1964, which also contains translations of "TL= Masculine Birth of Ti.me" and "Refutation of the -Philosophies". �-18Then Aristotle, observi.n g Bacon advance with a furious mien, drew his bow to the head, and let fly his arrow, which missed · the valiant modern · and went hizzing · over his head; but Des Cartes it hit ••• 'Evidently Bacon ducked. In addition to those whom he called "true sons of science", to whom "the lamp" · is to be handed on, a new army of assistan-t:s, managers and administrators had to be recruited. Appeals had to be made to men who never before would have been connected with scienc.e , to induce them to forsake their green fields, humble workshops and profitable businesses to become partners iq the hitherto too fastidious, or too exalted, quest for truth. ·Bacon encour.a ged them with the par.tial· truth that "our way of discovering sciences almost levels · men's wits and leaves but little to individual excellence," just as a man with a compass can draw a more perfect c.i rcle than anyone else, no matter how excellent, who uses his hand and eye alone. There will be a vast array of new tech- nical and mechanical activities that will leave little to special .intellectua.l excellence; but B aeon was more aware of the difference between ordinary men and men of talent and genius than those who criticize him for ignoring it. Some four pages after his statements about levelling in the NOVUM ORGANUM, he remarks that what he is attempting "cannot be brought down to the apprehension of the . vulgar . except by . effects and works only." 29 This should be considered also in connecJ tion with the question about the relative iinportance of fruit, works, or power, on the one h,and, and light and truth, on the other, for the Baconian ·philosophy. The new institutionalized science of the future, Bacon saw, required a new relation between science and political life. Throughout his long and eminent political career he .tried to gain official support for his projects. He was ·mu:ch more successful after his death·, as Abra.- ham Cowley's ode "To the Royal Society" of science, written in the 29t.J.o., Book I, aph. 128. �-19middle 1600 1 s, indicates. From these and all long Errors ·of the Way In which our wandering Pred~c~ssors went, And like th' old Hebre~s mariy:'o: Years did stray, · ::i;:n ·oesarts but of small Extent, Bacon, like Moses, led us forth at last, The barren Wilderness he past, Did .on the very Border stand, Of the bless'd promis'd Land And .from the Mountains Top of his exalted Wit, Saw it himself, and shew'd us it.30 Bacon's success, . and that success being taken . for. granted, has made it more difficult for us to see the problem as he saw it. The relation between political society and science and philosophy is always a delicate one: for, .he wrote, there , is no form of polity or society that does not have "some · point of contrariety towards human knowledge." And conversel:y, the arts and sciences· are always somewhat suspedt ·from the point of view of civil society: For surely there is a great distinction between. civil affairs and the arts: for the danger from new motion and new light is not the same. In civil affairs, truly, even a change for the better is supected as likely to bring on disturbances; for civil affairs rest on authority, consensus, fame and opinion, not demonstration. But in the arts and sciences, like metal mines, there should be a clamor of new operations . and further progress. 31 · Altha.u gh Bacon wrote extensively on political sub.jects and working one's way through the labyrinth of his political thought can be a fascinating enterprise, 32 . we must·confine ourselves here to his specifical. ly scientific politics. A most important part of his treatment of that 3oTHE WOP.KS OF MR. ABRAHAM COWLEY, London, 1721. cap~ 26, in WORKS, voi. III~ p. 252: and N.O., Book I, . aph. 90. Cf. Aristotle, POLITICS, Book II, chap. 8; Thomas Aquinas, S.T., I-II, Q.97, A. ·2; and Strauss, op. cit., not~ ·S, above, pp. 221-222; . et al. :3] VALERIUS TERMINUS, 32 See Berns, op. cit., n. 18, above; and Howard B. White, PEACE · AMONG THE WILLOWS: THE POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF FRANCIS BACONt Nijhof, 1968. �-20subject is found in one small book, the fable, or scientific -µtopia, . entitled the NEW ATLANTIS. But there too Bacon's views are not simply ex- posed to view, but become accessible only to a certain art of interpretation. For · as he says in the ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING beginning his treatment of government: it is a part of kriowledge secret and retired, in both those respects in which things are deemed secret: for some things are secret because they are hard to know, and some because they are not fit to utter. And in the expanded Latin version of this book he begins his discussion of civil or pol;itical science by telling an . old . story: that many philosophers being met ·together in the presence of the ambassador of a foreign prince, each endeavoring to give a sainple of his wisdom, that the ambassador might be able to make a . report of the wonderful wisdom of Greece; one of them remained silent ••. the ambassador tur1J.ing to him, said, "What have you to say for me to report?" To whom he answered, "Tell your king that you have found a man in Greece who knew how to hold his tongue .... Bacon .goes on to speak of an "art", even an "eloquence in silence" on these matters. There is also a simpler reason for the indirectness of the political discussion in the NEW ATLANTIS. If it is the case that the scientists control politics in the New Atlantis, · Bacon is in effect asking the great political men of his own times to contribute to the 'founding and support of institutions which were intended eventually to deprive ~hem, or men like them., of any real political power. Bacon had surely read; but did not need, the advice tendered by Machiavelli, that if you intend to kill a man and you want his weapons, you should not say, "Give me your weapons, I want to kill you." say, "Give me your weapons." 33 3 '.brscoµRSES ••• , Book I, .chap. 44. It is sufficient to Cf • .Ro·ssi, op. cit., pp. 109-116. �'-21- Baconis NEW ATLANTIS is written in . explicit correction of Plato'sCRIT!. AS;_ both works are formally incomplete. 34 The old Atlantis in the CRITIAS, a. luxurious.; technol_ogical, or mathematically organized, society •was destroyed by earthquakes; the New Atlantis goes back as _ far, but thanks to .its science does not fall prey to· cycles of natural catastrophe as do all societies in Plauo's account. -as Zeus is about to speak; what formally The CRITIAS ends just cor~esporids to Zeus's speech is the completed speech of· the ·Father from Salomon's House, the great new scientific institute of the future, '"the noblest foundation ••• that ever was upon the e?rrth; and the lanthorn I or as elsewhere, "the very eye"_/ of this kingdom." The speech is a description of Salomon's House, - or as they also call it, the College of the Six Days Works~ The soc_iety of Bensalem, for so ;it is called ?5 in the language of the na...., tives, enjoys prosperity, all kinds of health~producing fruits and foods, good health and medicines surpassing anything in Europe; and most natural, most chaste and most pious customs. Salomon's House, it seems, is · the source of all their greatest blessings. Science is de- · voted to the twin aims of findi_ g out the true nature e>f things, to n the_ ·greater glory of God, and the relief and prospering of .man's .estate. The island is Christian, havi_ng received both Old and· New Testaments through a special revelation, which was confirmed by a witnessing Father from Salomon's.House as a true miracle. But Jews, _Persians, Arabs, Chal...; deans and Indians· also live there and are. left to their own·· religions, and they··.too love and respect the ways of the nation of Bensalem~ 6 34cf. White, op. cit., note 32, above, the chaps. entitled, "Of Island . Utopias II I esp-:-for the comparison with the TEl1PEST I and "The Old and the New Atlantis"; see al.so White's chap.·, "Francis Bacon" in HISTORY OF POLITICAL PHIL.OSOPHY, eds. Leo Strauss and Jos~ph Cropsey, Rand McNally, 1972. 35Is it in contrast to Hierusalem, (the way Jerusalem is . spelled in the NEW ATLANTIS) the good-peace in contrast to the holy-peace (from the Greek hieros)? 3 6.:rhese things.are said explicitly only of the Jews. �-22It is a Jew with the interesting name of Joabin who arranges the meeting of Bacon's narrator with the Father from Salomon •'s Hous·e . · Salomon's House itself was founded by Solamona, .the . great law-giver of Bensalem, who reigned. about · 300 ·~B.C. Although the founding of Salomon's House de- pends upon the political act of a great king, and Bensalem is called a · king;dom still, by the time Salomon's House . has come into its own the power of the king is scarcely visible. Orders are given to the visi- ) tor~ not in the name of the king, but in the name of the "state". When I the Father from Salomon's House makes his procession .into the.city, the first such visit .i,n twelve years, his chariot, described in detail, reminds one of the Ark of the Covenant in the Old Testament. He, as Je- sus is often characterized, "had an aspect as if he pitied men." i Fif- . ty attendants of his own precede his chariot, and two others directly pr~:cedi.ng hook. bear, one a cross, the other a pastoral staff like ·a sheep- All political and other officials walk behind his chariot . . "He held up his hand as he went, as blessing the people, · but in silence." In some of the factories of Salomon's fiouse, the Father reports in a private meeting with the narrator, they have all kinds of ordnance and instruments of war, flying.machines of a sort and submarines. There are thirty-six Fellows of the College, under them are novices and apprentices and "a great number of servants and attendants, men and women." The Fellows decide which of their inventions and experienqes should be published and which not. They "take all an oath of secrecy, for the .• concealing of those which we think fit to keep secret: tho.u gh some of those we do' reveal sometimes to the state, and some not." What all this. indicates is that the ultimate rule both of the state arid religion, ("which has most power over men's minds 1137 ), is in the hands of the Fellows of Salo~on's House, the philosopher-scien- tists. Bacon envisaged a vast expansion of 'human power . as a consequence of science's conquest of nature. He evidently thought that these powers, powers for evil as well as for good, were not. to be put into the hands 37 N.O., Book I, aph. 89. �-23.;.. of mere st.a tesmen; control · was to be kept in the hands of those who would be expected to comprehend them, the most powerful and highly trained philosophic and scientific minds. While the arrangement of : a marriage between .science and society clearly forecast a new era bf mutual interest and concern between the parties, rule by the wise was regarded as the condition for success. The leaders . of science apparent_. ly . were also meant to become masters of statecraft, of human philosophy, to guarantee that the newly discovered powers would fall into hands fit to use them well. In aphorisms 127 and 80 of Book One of the . NOVUM ORGANUM Bacon makes clear that he is speaking about perfe_ ting c not only natural philosophy in .the narrow sense, but the sciences of ·1 logic, ethics and politics as well; they were all to be nourished by, and brought to perfection alo_ g with, natural philosophy. n The new 38 science, in its inception, was meant to be a universal science. The failure to develop the expected human philosophy would seem to be the most conspicuous failure of Baconian philosophy. · Can any philosophy or science which does not take the orientation of pre-scientific and cognition seriously ever be adequate for understanding human things?3 9 pre~philosophic 38 More than 350 years after the publication of the NOVUM ORGANUM Maxwell's and Rutherford's successor, the Cavendish Professor of Physics writes, .,Phy~ics, indeed, should recognise that it is not in any useful sense the fundamental science, since that peculiarity which makes it fundamental, the fact that its laws are, we believe, applicable in principle to the systems which other sciences investigate, is achieved by adopting an attitude of exclusive . concentration on cer.t ain approved aspects of the phenomena, such as prevents the development of a scheme by which principle can be translated into practice." Indeed, the claim of fundamental physics that it is "seeking out the Basic Truth of the Universe" is found to be ,;slightly pretentious". See _ A.B. Pippard, F.-R.S., "Reconciling Physics with Reality," an Inaugural Lecture, Cambridge University Press, 1972, pp. 35 and 37. . Old questions seem to be opening again. Is the very quest for a fundamental sdience now even more than "slightly pretentious"? (Cf. F. Nietzsche, BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL, aph. 205.) Or is the way opening for new, and, perhaps, even old contenders? :39 cf. Leo Strauss, op. cit., note 5, above, pp.23-25, and "An Epilogue" in LIBERALISM ANCIENT AND MODERN, Basic Books, 1968. �-24Howeve~ this may be, Baconian science wins the support of society and the people at large by catering to their fe9-rS and desires_, as they understand those desires, that is, by providing them with protection _ gainst injury from man and especially from nature, with prosa - perity, with .comforts and new pleasures and especially with stronger and healthfor bodies. The latent, and riot always · latent, antagonism between science and philosophy and society is not to be bridged -by mere words, by the flimsy art of the GORGIAS, by the consolations of philosophy, by exhortations to virtue, but rather by the .tangible comforts of Baconian charity. · Consolation for and bowing to the ravages of fortune are not as good as conquering fortune; for in trut?~ Bacon says, fortune is a name for somethi_ g whic_ does not exist, just · as n h the theoretical presupposition of the notion of fortune, variable and unstable matter, does not exist. The ancients produced theoretical ex- · cuses, blaming their ·f ailure to . radically improve the estate of man, on the nature of things, rather than on their own _gnorance, especiali . 40. ly their ignorance of the forms, or fixed laws governing all matter. · The -depreciation of nature, at least of given nature, or nature in its ordinary course, implicit in the idea of the conquest of nature is a, or the, corrnnon theme of mbdern phiiosophy. In Kant and Hegel it cUlm.inates in a thorough disqualification of nature for .. sion of ethical and political standard$. Or, . in oth~r the . provi~ words, Kant and Hegel found the nature uncovered by modern science, the natu+e which Bacon said is to be obeyed, altogether incapable' of supplying man with ethical .and political standards. As a consequence, for Kant and Hegel moral and political principles ' must be traced to some other non-natural sources: . freedom, pure practical reason, spirit and history. Some- thing which anticipates, or corresponds to; the later development occurs also in Bacon, as can be seen by considering the following 40cf. Bacon's use of the ambiguity of the word fortune in his "architecture of fortune", (ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, Book II), and his attack on the classical subordination of art to nature, its breeding "a premature despair in htunan enterprises." WORKS, vol.. IV, pp·. 294-95. Cf. also N.O., Book I, aphs~ 75 and 78. �-2.5- difficulty. Men, like lions and oaks, are not fundamental, but rather compounded forms of nature in its ordinary course. But one of these ordinary, compounded forms is to become the conqueror and master of all _the forms of nature in its ordinary course~ There must be something speci_ l, or fundamental about this one of those non-fundamental forms, a man. B~con' s division of all philosophy (apart from natural theology) into natural and human is a kind of tacit ackri.owle_ gement, ·insufficient d though · it may be, of the new special status of man in hfs philosophy. Yet, unlike Kant and Hegel, Bacon .still looked to nature and its funda. mental laws in order to di_ cern the principles of moral:i,ty. 41 s Sometimes . he claimed to share the ethical goals of the ancient philosophers, adding only the teaching they neglected about how to · attain those goals; but that position is not long maintained. The dis- courses of the ancients on ·morals and politics, he said,, are beautiful a.pd lofty, like "the stars, which give little light because they are so high." 42 Bacon, following Machiavelli (THE PRINCE, chapter 15), lowered his goals in order to guarantee actualization. to understand the so-called conquest of fortune. ~hat This is one way A Baconian might reply goals which can almost never be put into practice cannot be re- garded as serious practical goals. In his widely read ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING Bacon divides ·the "Platform of the Good" into two basic divisions, Individual or Self Good; which concerns its.e lf with ·virtue, and the Good of Communion, or Social Good, which concerns itself with duty. Individual Good is subdivided into Passive Good and Active Good, and Passive Good is subdivided finally into Conservative Good and Perfec_ tive Good. The first division -is . explained as a.rl appetite imprinted in · everything toward a twofold nature of good, the one as everythi_ g is a n totality in itself, the other as it is a part of another body: Iron moves toward the lodestone in individual sympathy, but if it exceeds a 41 Cf. also DE AUGMENTIS. ~ • , Book IV I chap. 1. 42 ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING . Book II. 1 �-26- certain quantity, like a good patriot, it moves to .the earth, the country .of its connaturals. The conservation of the more general form, the good of communion, controls all, the . lesser inclinations, as is emphasized by the Christian Faith, which more than any other sect or philo. sophy exalted the good of communion and depressed the private or particular good. "All other· excellences -·.t y adni.i tteth no excess. " are subject to excess: only chari- This also decides the question concerning . . whether the contemplative or the active life is to be preferred, against i Aristotle. · te~plative For all the reasons he brings forth in favor of the life are private. con~ As far as the private pleasure and digni- ty of a man's self is concerned, Aristotle is right. ;But men must know that in thi·s theater of man's life it is reserved only for God and angels to be lookers on ••• for contemplation which should be finished in itself, without casting beams upon society, assuredly divinity knoweth it not. In his much less reserved and unpublished, . but privately circulated, VALERIUS TERMINUS, these same divisions of good are discusf;)ed with no· admixture of Christian theology or classical terminology, as appetites, desires, and motions operating throughout material nature~ He begins t.his discussion with the remark, that uif the rnor.a l philosophers that ·have spent_ such an infinite quantity of debate touching Good, . and the highest good, had cast their eye abroad upon nature," to see the "quaternion of g.ood" which he presents as laws _ motion, then they might of have"saved and abridged much of their long and wandering discourses of pleasure, virtue, duty and religion." In the expanded version of the ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING,. the DE . AUGMENT IS~ •.• , . the section oil physics, . in the discussion of simple or elementary motions, these same motions with still different names and no obvious connection to morality show up in the central place·s . sics. gre~t mod~rn Morality, it seems, is to be reduced to phy- It is in Bacon's tha.ight rather than Hobbes's that those two powers of modern thought, Machiavellian political .morality. and natural science, are first bro_ ght t _ gether. · The · Machiavellian u o �-26a- .Platform or Exemplar of the Good * Social, or Good of Communion Duty . Indiv~dual or Self Good -- Virtue Passive .Good Perfective Gocid Conservative Good ----~------ ---------------- -------------~- Quaternion of Good ----------------- ----------** . Motion of enjoying. or fruition of approach _ or assumption of affecting or operation of consenting or proportion *. From the AD\ ANCEMENT OF LEARNING, 1605: and the DE AUGMENTIS SCIENTARiuM, j 323 ** From the VALERIUSTERMINUS, est. 1603. �-27principles, however modified, are found by Bacon to be operative not only in human nature, but throughout nature as a whole. But let us try to understand how this works out in hUI!lan terms by tryi_ g to see what the bes;t, or h:i,ghest, way of life would be for Ban con. The Active Good of extending and mqltiplying oneself, in conformity with the Social or Communal Good takes precedence over the fective Good and the Preservative Good, that is, pleasure. Per~ Internal perfection, contrary to Plato and Aristotle, is secondarY: to acting · upon and relating to others in and for society. Foreign policy, as it were, takes precedence over domestic policy. In his most popu- lar book, the ESSAYS, · (No. 55) Bacon assigns the highest place of honor. to found"Srs of empires, states and cormnonwealtlis, like Romulus, Cyrus, Caesai:_ : Ottoman and Ismael. , In the NOVUM ORGANUM, however, in disti,n guishi_ g three grades .o f ambition, the highest political ambi-: n tion is assigned the second place. The first place goes to him who would "endeavor to instaurate and extend the power and empire of the human race itself over the un_v_ rse of things" thro_ gh the sciences . i e u and the arts. "And yetr to speak the whole truth," Bacon says later in the same aphorism . " ••• the very beholding of the l _ght is itself i a more excellent and fairer thi_ g than its many uses: so surely the n very contemplation of things as they are without superstition or imposture, error or confusion, is in itself more worthy than all the fruits of inventions." And at the end of the First 'Book of the ADVANCEMENT OF LEARNING, . We see then how ~ar the monuments of wit and .learning are more durable than the monuments of power, or of the hands ·••• the images of men's wits and knowledges remain in books, exempted from the Wrong of time and capable of perpetual .renovation. Neither are they fitly to be called images, because they generate still and cast their seeds in the minds of others, provoking and causing infinite actic:ms and opinions in succeeding ages •••• letters ••• -as ships pass through the _vast seas of time, and make ages so distant to participate of the wisdom, illmninations, and . inventions, the one of the other ••• Apparently E lcon did conceive of contemplation .as the highest perfection o man, but a kind of politic contemplation, contemplatidn �-28- of the most far-seei_ g pr'a ctice, or actiqri,. the theory which disclos.es n knowl€;dge of "all possible operations", the theory productive of the most lo_ g range practice. n He evidently envisaged a .complete coincidence of private and social good on the .highest level. . Ambition in the highI . est sense, the ambition of the founder of the empire of man over nature, whq is that founder because he is the first discoverer of the cosmological truth, becomes at the same time the performance of the highest of iduties. The ambition of the founder of the greatest of all em- pires is the highest form of the active or extensive good, it is · realized by means of the highest perfective good, contemplation. Since i~ is aimed at securing the maximum of relief_ ,· for mankind as a whole, it ~lso constitutes the highest of as 'Bacon defined duty, the action of an of society. and power ~i1 duties, individual with regard to the . well~being cornfo~t . In the ver_y last entry of his natural history it is difficult not to think that Bacon had himself in mind~ The delight which men have in popularity, fame, honour, Submission and subjection of other men's minds, wills, or affections (al though these thi_ gs may be desired for n other ends), seemeth to be a thing in itself, without contemplation of consequence, grateful.and agreeable to the nature of man. This thing (surely) is not without some signification, as if all spirits and souls of men came forth out of one divine limbus; else why should men be so much affected with that which others think or say? T~e best temper of minds desireth good name and true honour: the lighter, pop~ ularity and applause.: the more depraved, subjection and tyranny; as is seen in great conquerors and troublers of the world; and yetmore in arch-heretics; for .the introducing of new doctrines is likewisean affection of tyranny .over the understandings and beliefs of men. As this quote indicates, the lowest of Bacon's classes o:t: good, the conservative good, or. good of enjoyment, will also be fulfilled for the founder of the empire of man over nature, through the pur_e delight men have in fame, honor and the subjection of other men's minds. The " Father from Salomon Is House "had an aspect as if he pi tied men." As. Bacon says elsewhere: �-29- There is implanted in man by nature itself a noble and excellent spirit of compassion, that extends itself even to the brutes which by the divine ordinance are subject to his command. This compassion, therefore, has a certain analogy with that of a prince towards . his sub~ jects. Moreover it is most true; that the more4 ~orthy a soul is, the more objects of com:i;>assion it has •.· The true temper of Baconian charity, of the Baconian scientist~ evi- derttly must combine the spirit of compassion with the spirit of domi.:.. nation. A synthesis of these qualities along with Herculean, Prome. 44 thean courage would seem to constitute . something like the grand pas- ~ion of generosity discussed by besc~rte~ in . hi~ PASSIONS OF THE SOUL • . Both Bacon. and Descartes believed that the vast expansion of . powers to be wro.u ght by the new science would have to be matched by corJl=espondinglY: great resources of courage in .the souls of those men ·who were to release and administer those · powers. But moderation ·, the ancients tell Us, is the core of almost all the virtues. without moderation is rashness. And courage The beneficence of the project for the conquest of nature has not measured up to Bacon's expectations for · it. Was it reasonable to think tha.t it woiild? St. John's College, Annapolis 43 wom<s, vol. I, p. 758. . 44 See Bacon's WISDOM OF THE ANCIENTS, No. - 26. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Laurence, 1928- Title A name given to the resource Francis Bacon and the conquest of nature Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1975-04-25 Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on April 25, 1975 by Laurence Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 57329 Subject The topic of the resource Bacon, Francis, 1561-1626 Philosophy, Modern Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3874" title="Sound recording">Sound recording</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/0df0c813059d089dbf542e53e0d50cda.pdf 159798acb00a96399a5102a1bc01cc91 PDF Text Text Putting Things Back Together Again in Kantl by Laurence Berns (St. John's College, Annapolis) Any study, including the study of philosophy, usually begins with making distinctions, refining differences. With a comprehensive, precise, philosopher, a philosopher with a system, like Kant, it seems as if one could spend a lifetime just trying to work out the distinctions, without ever coming around to bring together the things that have been distinguished, that have been separated in thought. I would like in this talk to try to account for how some of the major factors distinguished by Kant come together and cooperate within the wholes that they constitute. The lecture divides into two basic parts. Experience and the sciences based on experience, according to Kant, are based on two primary sources, sense intuition and conceptual thought. Concepts without intuitions, he argues, are empty, and intuitions without concepts are blind. How do they come together? The contrast with Aristotle's treatment should be revealing. The fundamental question behind this first part is: how to account for the cognition we do experience, how to account for the partial intelligibility of our world? The realm of nature, natural science and experience, according to Kant, is determined strictly by necessary laws of cause and effect. The realm of morality, on the other hand, proceeds in accordance with laws of freedom. Like parallel lines, it would seem, the two realms never meet. Kant speaks of the great gulf that separates these domains, that "completely cuts off the domain of the concept of nature under the one legislation, and the domain of the concept of freedom under the other legislation, from any influence that each ... might have had on the other.''2 The question then naturally raises itself: how are the realm of nature and the realm of morality related or connected in one and the same world? lA lecture delivered at St. John's College, Annapolis, April 14, 2000. 2 Critique of Judgment, Pluhar translation, (Indianapolis, Hackett, 1987), Introduction, IX, p. 35. 1 �In his long and difficult book, the Critique of Judgment, Kant develops the concept of purposiveness, especially the purposiveness of nature, that in some way is intended to bridge the gap between nature and morality. I am not able at this time to do more than touch on that subject. The purposiveness that Kant talks about is not found in nature, but supplied by the reflective judgment of the investigator whenever the investigator comes across phenomena like those of living organized beings for which the laws of mechanical cause and effect do not seem adequate. A purpose is defined by Kant as an effect that is possible only through the concept of that effect, the concept that is itself the cause of the effect. Like Thomas Aquinas, Kant argues that ends in nature only make sense when they are thought of as intended by some intelligence. The intending intelligence can be either in the being effecting the purpose or not. The innumerable complexes of purposive activities operative throughout nature, especially in animate nature, in beings not intending them, require some other being that does intend them, namely, God.3 Teleology, Kant argues, finds its consummation in theology. But, unlike Thomas, for Kant this God is not to be assumed to have objective reality. The idea of such a being is produced by us in order to satisfy the subjective needs of our cognitive faculties. These purposive laws are to make sense of the phenomena as if some intelligent cause, a God, had made them. The realm of the reflective judgment also contains Kant's analysis of the aesthetic judgment, the account of the beautiful and the sublime. The pleasure derived from an object judged beautiful comes from reflection on the free and harmonious play of one's own faculties of imagination and understanding in its judging. The reflective judgment sometimes seems to be a judgment that possessing an indeterminate particular is on the search for the universal or universal law under which the particular could be subsumed, which, if found, would transform it into a determinate judgment. It evidently plays a key role in a very important subject not extensively discussed by Kant, concept formation. In his Logic he speaks of concept formation as based 3Summa Theologiae, I-II, Q. 40, A.3, and Q. 1, A.2. Cf. also I, Q. 2, A.3. Critique of Judgment, §§ 75 and 76. 2 �on three logical operations of the understanding: comparison, reflection and abstraction, the essential general conditions of generating any concept whatsoever. For example, I see a fir, a willow and a linden. In comparing them with one another I notice they are different from one another in respect of trunk, branches, leaves and the like; further, however, I reflect only on what they have in common, trunk, branches and leaves and [then] I abstract from their size, shape, and so forth; thus I gain a concept of a tree.4 In this context reflection would seem to be the power in the Kantian system that comes closest to the noesis, or intellectual intuition, of Plato and Aristotle. The gap between nature and morality also raises another question which is both a theoretical and practical question, namely, how do nature and morality coexist in one and the same human being? Almost everyone who aspires to be generally educated in philosophy reads Kant's The Foundations [Grounding] of a Metaphysics of Morals, usually after reading his Prolegomena to Any Future Metaphysics or selections from The Critique of Pure Reason. His Metaphysics of Morals is much less read. One is almost bound, it seems to me, to get a distorted picture of Kant's moral philosophy from reading the Foundations alone. In the Foundations Kant clarifies the ultimate principle of morality, the categorical imperative, by distinguishing it from what others claim are the sources of moral principle. The source of moral principle, he argues, is not nature, not divine revelation, not moral sense or feeling, not pleasure. The discussion usually takes the form of arguing why those plausible alternatives are to be ruled out as sources of moral worth. Kant's view appears as a noble, but narrow, inflexible, formalism: "so act that the maxim of your action can be made into a universal law "-period. The chief difficulty for those who have read only the Critiques and the Foundations is to see how Kant applies the categorical imperative. In ethical and political matters the meaning of principles usually does not become clear until one sees how they work out in practice. The 4 See Critique of Judgment, Introduction (2),§4; and Logi,k, (Jiische), AK IX, 94-95; Logic, English translation by Hartman and Schwarz, (Bobs-Merril, 1974), 100-01. 3 �Metaphysics of Morals is devoted entirely to working out how the categorical imperative is applied within the varying circumstances of human life. Despite the formalism, it reveals Kant to be a deep, wideranging student of human nature, who is very much aware of the importance for morality of the sources that he rejects as ultimate sources of morality. In the second part of this talk I propose to illustrate how, in the Metaphysics of Morals, Kant tries to make sense out of morality; in part by showing how the moral law comes together with some of the alternative principles that were rejected in the Foundations. I Most discussions of Kant begin with his modifications and deepening of doctrines inherited from Descartes, Spinoza, Leibniz, Locke, Berkeley, Hume and others whose philosophies can be associated with modern mathematical physics. By emphasizing those modifications, the premises which these thinkers all share, in particular those premises formed in opposition to the classical Platonic-Aristotelian approach, are taken for granted, and as a consequence, are both insufficiently questioned and thereby insufficiently clarified. If there is genuine knowledge, must not that which the knower has be in some way the same as that which constitutes the object known? In the Meno [72c] Socrates speaks of the form [eidos] as that through which things are what they are and that towards which one looks in order to give an account of what they are. Aristotle speaks of how in sense perception the sense is receptive of the forms of sensible things without their material just as the wax receives the mark of the signet ring without the iron or the gold.5 As Joe Sachs put it, "the same form that is at work holding together the perceived thing is also at work on the soul of the perceiver."6 5De Anima, 424a 17-21. Aristotle joins Plato's Socrates' "second sailing", taking "refuge in speeches [eis tous logous] to look in them for the truth about the beings" [Phaedo, 99C100A], by coming around to concentrate on the form [eidos] "according to speech" [kata ton logon]. See Physics, 193a 31 and Posterior Analytics, lOOa 1-3, and the whole of chapter 19 of Book II. 6Aristotle's Metaphysics, translated by Joe Sachs, (Santa Fe, NM: Green Lion Press, 1999), liii-liv. 4 �On the basis of what evidently lies in both prephilosophic and philosophic experience, and on the supposition that genuine knowledge is possible for human beings, Plato and Aristotle and their followers argue that human beings are endowed by nature with two interconnected kinds of intuition or insight, sense intuition and intellectual intuition [nous] which open themselves correspondingly to two kinds of forms, sensible and intelligible forms, the forms implicit in human speech as well as the forms of sense experience. According to the analyses of Plato and Aristotle the intelligible forms are understood to be primarily responsible for the way the world and things are as they are. And accordingly they become objects of the highest kind of inquiry, the study which came to be called metaphysics. The great early modern opponents of the classical tradition and its medieval offshoots seemed to regard this presupposition of harmony between the mind and discourse of human beings and the nature of things as a na'ive, if not gullible, optimism. Nature is not a kind mother, she deceives us: the cognitive equipment she endows us with conceals rather than reveals the true character of things. Bacon, in the first Book of his New Organon, especially his treatment of the Idols of the Mind, devotes himself to "the refutation of the natural human reason." That refutation includes a refutation and account of those philosophies, especially the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, that "idolize" or even "idolatrize" natural human reason.7 The continuity of his great project with that of Bacon is acknowledged by Kant through his choice of a long excerpt from the Novum Organum as the epigraph to The Critique of Pure Reason. Thomas Hobbes was unrivaled for the lucidity with which he stated his opposition to classical thought. In his The Elements of Law (Natural and Politic)8 we read "whatsoever accidents or qualities our senses make us think there be in the world, they be not there, but are seeming and apparitions only." What we are led to think are the characteristics of things in themselves are rather the effects upon 7Cf. Laurence Berns, "Francis Bacon and the Conquest of Nature", Interpretation 7, No. 1 (1978), pp. 1-12, especially note 5. 8Editor, Ferdinand Tonnies, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1928), chap. Il.10. 5 �ourselves of causes or things which in themselves are utterly unknown to us. As for intelligibles, universals, Hobbes tells us that there is "nothing in the world Universal but Names; for the things named, are every one of them Individual and Singular."9 He often criticizes Aristotle for mistaking discourse about our thoughts and the ordering of our thoughts for discourse about things in themselves. Traditional metaphysics from this point of view is absorbed by logic, if not by psychology. Kant continued and developed this critique. We cannot know things in themselves, he argues. Science, the study of nature, is concerned only with what appears to us, with what lies in our experience and, as far as we can know, lies only in our experience. We are led by nature to think that what is present in our experience is of, or refers to, things that exist independently of our experience. And when we speak about our experience, especially in our use of common nouns, we speak as if we possessed a power to intuit intellectually the intelligible natures of things in themselves. But, Kant asserts, sense intuition is the only intuition available to us, there is no such thing as intellectual intuition for human beings. To emphasize both the denial and the temptation at the same time, he defines the word noumenon (which he and his readers knew in Greek means object of nous, object of intellectual intuition) negatively, as a word to refer to that which we can in no way know, an unknowable x, the unknowable thing in itself. Kant seems to have never given an explicit and direct refutation of the intellectual intuition he so emphatically rejects. Years ago I was puzzling about this with the distinguished Kant scholar, Lewis Beck, and Beck finally said that he guessed Kant must have thought that he has given us everything valid that intellectual intuition was thought to have supplied and with more adequate explanations of its grounds. Beck was referring in part to the fact that although, according to Kant, we cannot go beyond phenomena to things in themselves, we can have objective, universal and necessary judgments about them, that is, about the phenomena that constitute our experience. We can accept Hume's critique and starting point without the burden of his skepticism. In fact, Kant argues, objectively valid natural science, mathematics and moral law, 9Leviathan, chap. 4. 6 �now, on his basis, can be more adequately grounded than they have ever been before. Kant's categories, the pure a priori concepts that ground experience, his substitutes for Platonic and Aristotelian ideas or forms, have no special purely intellectual objects of their own; they are valid and meaningful only in application to human experience, meaning sense experience. Reason, the ultimate source of understanding, and its concepts is not intuitive, for Kant, but legislative: it provides rules for the meaningful organization of sense experience, these rules we call concepts. Despite these fundamental oppositions, there is a deep stratum of concurrence in Kant's approach and the Platonic-Aristotelian approach: both find the meaningfulness of ordinary sense experience fundamentally dependent on what is primarily at home in thought, even in logic. Kant might be thought of as, in his own way, joining Socrates' taking refuge in the logoi.10 The same function of the mind that in discourse determines a certain kind of judgment, as a category provides the necessary conditions o. meaningfulness that determine particular objects, as objects of sense f experience. Thus Kant can say paradoxically that ''Reason prescribes to nature its laws." He must also have been thinking about how Newton in his Principia presents mathematical reason prescribing its laws to nature: that is, after working out different general mathematical force laws for bodies traveling in different kinds of geometric orbits (in Book I), some 200 or so pages later (in Book III) he determines the astronomical "System of the World" in a few pages by simply setting down the observational data, the phenomena, and seeing to which of those force laws they conform. (As every history of these matters makes clear the actual discoveries of the mathematical laws were made very much in interaction with observations of the things governed by them.) But Kant spoke of his critical philosophy and Newton's procedure as part of the more general Copernican intellectual revolution of modern science. Let us take the most important example: we see the sun rise, move across the heavens and set each day. The Copernican hypothesis accounts for the apparent daily movement of the sun by the rotation of the earth, or more generally, by the activity and movement of the observer. lOsee note 5, below and the Critique of Pure Reason, B 105 or A 79, B 107, and B 370. 7 �Kant accounts for the meaningfulness of sense experience in terms of its conformity to the rules set by our own conceptual activity. Hitherto, he argues, it has been assumed that all our knowledge must conform to objects, but he reverses the priority by asking whether it is not rather that we attain knowledge of objects when those objects, sense objects, conform to the conditions that our concepts and understanding set for all objects of experience. Experimental science too is seen as part of this intellectual revolution: in the experiment reason approaches nature with fixed laws in mind, and then creates conditions that would never occur in nature's own ordinary course in order to force nature to answer reason's own questions about which laws prevail. I spoke earlier of how Kant cut off intellectual intuition as one route from experience to things experienced as things in themselves; but what about gaining access to the things themselves that are sensed through sense intuition, the one kind of intuition that Kant asserts we do possess? That avenue is cut off by Kant's notion of what it is that we receive through our senses. Following Hume, Kant agrees that what our senses present to us are impressions, or as later writers who follow this approach say, sense data; not sense objects, but sensations, mere matter for sense objects.11 Sensation for Kant is not yet sense intuition. For sense intuition of sense objects to occur, the matter must be ordered or formed into appearances and experience. The formative or ordering power does not come from the object formed, but lies in the mind a priori, that is, independently of all sensation or experience. "(T]he form of all appearance must altogether lie ready for the sensations a priori in the mind; and hence that form must be capable of being examined apart from all sensation."12 The form of outer objects of experience is Space, the form of inner objects of experience is Time. Space presents no properties or relations of things in themselves; "it is the subjective condition of sensibility under which alone outer intuition is possible for us."13 As the a llTo what extent does this depend on Kant's "Boscovichian" ~eduction of material "solids" to tensions of forces, especially repulsive and attractive forces? See his Metaphysische Anfangsgriinde der Naturwissenschaften, Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science, especially chapter 2 on dynamics, "Metaphysische Anfangsgriinde der Dynamik", AK IV, 496-535. l2The Critique of Pure Reason, B 34. l3Jbid. B 42 8 �priori form of inner sense, Time is the condition of possibility for any intuition or experience of simultaneity or succession. If, as we shall shortly see, all experience itself depends upon synthesizing activities of the subjects of experience, taking place in time, then time is the subjective condition of possibility for all intuition, for all experience and for all cognition. "Time is the formal condition a priori for all appearances in general."14 How, according to Kant, are intuition and concept brought together to produce experience and knowledge? The crucial link is the imagination. The pure imagination, Kant tells us, is a basic power of the human soul which underlies a priori all cognition. By means of pure imagination we link the manifold of intuition, on the one hand, with the ... necessary unity of pure apperception [the source of the categories], on the other hand. By means of this transcendental function of the imagination the two extreme ends, namely sensibility and understanding, must necessarily cohere; for otherwise sensibility would indeed yield appearances, but would yield no objects of an empirical cognition, and hence no experience. Actual experience consists in [1] apprehension of appearances, [2] their association (reproduction), and thirdly their recognition; in this third [element] (which is the highest of these merely empirical elements of experience), such experience contains concepts, which make possible the formal unity of experience and with it all objective validity (truth) of empirical cognition. Now these bases of the recognition of the manifold, insofar as they concern merely the form of an experience as such, are the categories.15 Kant also spoke about the difference between the "two extreme ends", sensibility and thought, as the difference between receptivity, the receptivity of blind sense impressions and spuntaneity, the source of all thinking (transcendental apperception). The two are defined in opposition to one another. Understanding, the ability to think an object of sensible intuition is our spontaneity of cognition, that is, the ability opposite to receptivity, the ability to produce mental presentations by ourselves, to go 14/bid. B 46, 49-50. 15Critique of Pure Reason, Pluhar translation, (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1996), A 124-25. Emphasis supplied. 9 �through, take up and combine mental presentations in acts of synthesis. "By synthesis, in the most general sense of the term,'' he says, "I mean the act of putting various presentations with one another and of comprising their manifoldness in one cognition." Spontaneity, he asserts, is the basis of the three-fold synthesis that brings sense intuition and conceptual thought together. The three syntheses are called, 1) the synthesis of apprehension in intuition, 2) the synthesis of reproduction in imagination, and 3) the synthesis of recognition in the concept. The first two syntheses are, if I understand them, under the aegis of what Kant calls the productive imagination.16 What the first synthesis, of apprehension, accomplishes is the taking together of the received impressions as existing in one ("my") consciousness in time. The individual becomes conscious of a unity of intuition in him or her self, as existing "in me." It is only when the received appearances are apprehended and combined within a definite consciousness that Kant will call them perceptions. The next stage, the synthesis of reproductive imagination, depends upon an association of perceptions brought together so as to produce an image of an object. This depends on a power of the mind "to call over" [herilberzurufen] a preceding perception to a subsequent perception to form a series of perceptions. The objective ground of the association, Kant says, is the affinity of appearances in the unity of apperception. A non-Kantian might be tempted to ask, "Is this a surreptitious glance at the outlawed thing in itself?" But, Kant argues, this process depends on the unity of consciousness of original apperception and is an a priori synthesis, thereby traceable to the action of the productive imagination.17 The third synthesis, synthesis of recognition in a concept, is more familiar to everyone who has read about the pure concepts of the understanding, the categories. Here there is·a recognition that the manifold of former syntheses is a unity of syntheses according to a rule, that is, according to a concept. We have now reached the pole of thought. 16Jbid. A 118. It can be argued that the second synthesis, as its name suggests, is not under the productive but only the reproductive imagination. Imagination, in general, is defined in the Critique of Pure Reason, B 151, as "the power of presenting an object in intuition even without the object's being present." In the B edition the synthesis of apprehension is called the figurative synthesis. 17Jbid. A 122 and 123. 10 �We now recognize the former syntheses of appearances, associated perceptions and finally an image as unified according to a rule, a category, under which they are subsumed and validated as conforming to the conditions of possibility of an object of experience. At the end of this account Kant is satisfied that he can now say: Hence the order and regularity in the appearances that we call nature are brought into them by ourselves; nor indeed could such order and regularity be found in appearances, had not we, or the nature of our mind, put them into appearances originally .18 There are two other important accounts of imagination mediating between sense and understanding that I can only mention briefly. Kant's transcendental deduction of the categories culminates in his discussion of the schematism. A schema is not an image, but a product of the power of imagination, a rule of synthesis for the imagination that governs the production of images that then will be suitable for subsumption under concepts. Another most important function of imagination is its provision of a priori intuition, the foundation of mathematical knowledge, according to Kant. Kant, like Newton and Hobbes, defines mathematical objects operationally rather than theoretically as Euclid mostly does. A line is what is generated by the path of a moving point, rather than a breadthless length. The intuition is a priori, because we, through our imaginations supply it, it is not derived from experience. In mathematics concepts are constructed, that is the universals, the concepts, are operative as rules of construction for the a priori images. The universal is found in the particular .19 Construction of concepts is defined by Kant as the 18Jbid. A 125. 19Euclid, I.32, the proof that the three angles of any triangle equal two right angles, provides a beautiful example: As soon as you supply the line parallel to one of the sides of the triangle, (keeping in mind what you have just learned about equalities between interior, exterior and alternate angles) the conclusion jumps out at you. See Critique of Pure Reason, B 744-45. In B 745 this notion of a priori intuition is shown to embrace also the "symbolic constructions" of algebra. Cf. Jacob Klein: "A new kind of generalization, which may be termed 'symbol-generating abstraction,' leads directly to the establishment of a new universal discipline, namely 'general analytic,' [algebra], which holds a central place in the architectonic of the 'new' science." Greek M athmatical Thought and the Origin of Algebra, translated by Eva Brann, (Cambridge, Mass.: MI.T. 11 �production and exhibition a priori, that is, in pure imagination, of the intuition which corresponds to the concept. Because in his mind the geometer produces a circle with every radius exactly equal, "he can demonstrate by means of a circle which he draws with his stick in the sand, no matter how irregular it may turn out to be, the attributes of a circle in general, as perfectly as if it had been etched on a copper plate by the greatest artist." The production in pure imagination of the intuition corresponding to the concept Kant calls schematic in contrast to the merely empirical intuition on paper or drawn in the sand.20 In the middle of Kant's account of the three-fold synthesis we have just gone through a curious and revealing footnote appears. That the imagination is a necessary ingredient of perception itself has, I suppose, never occurred to any psychologist. This is so partly because this power has been limited by psychologists to reproduction only, and partly because they believed that the senses not only supply us with impressions, but indeed also assemble these impressions and thus bring about images of objects. But this undoubtedly requires something more than our receptivity for impressions, namely, a function for their synthesis.21 This criticism of what is evidently a premodern notion of perception seems to beg the question by assuming that what the senses supply are atomistic impressions, which then would require some other power to assemble them into representations of sensible things. Sensible things, as Kant knows, are what most people think they are perceiving through their senses. Kant was familiar with Aristotle's logic, but Press, 1968), available now in a Dover Edition reprint, p. 125. Cf. pp. 117-25, 163-78 and 192-211. 20ttenry E. Allison, The Kant-Eberhard Controversy, (Baltimore-London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1973), p.111, especially Kant's note. (AK VIII, 191-92) Kant's way of conceiving the object of mathematics is elaborately contrasted with the classical Greek way in David Lachterman's The Ethics of Geometry: A Genealogy of Modernity, (New York and London: Routledge, 1989). Lachterman develops and builds on Jacob Klein's Greek Mathmatical Thought and the Origin of Algebra; and "The World of Physics and the 'Natural' World" in Jarob Klein: Lectures and Essays, edited by R. B. Williamson and E. Zuckerman, (Annapolis: St. John's College Press, 1985), pp. 1-34. 21Critique of Pure Reason, (Pluhar), A 120. 12 �evidently not with DeAnima.22 Aristotle's account of these matters seems to be much simpler, it remains very close to the ordinary and general experience in which they are found. AB Joseph Owens put it, he "lets things speak for themselves." Aristotle and Kant, it seems to me, are considering pretty much the same phenomena, however differently they account for them. In the beginning of his Metaphysics Aristotle speaks of how all animals by nature come into being with sensation and how, for some, memory emerges from sensation which makes them more intelligent and able to learn. He assumes that, of course, memory presupposes imagination. An animal remembers by recalling an image of something which has been perceived in the past and is no longer present, Kant's reproductive imagination. And so, he, Aristotle, goes on, the other animals live by imaginings and memories, but have little share in experience, but the human race lives also by art and reasoning. Experience arises out of memory for human beings; for many memories of the same thing bring the capacity for one experience to completion. And experience seems to be almost like knowledge, or science, and art; and knowledge and art come about from experience for human beings. Experience is the link between memory and science and art. Experience, then, arises from memories, when many memories of the same thing are linked together in a unity: for example, this cured Smith, it also cured Jones, and Green and Quinn, therefore it should cure Collins as well. The doctor, thinking about Collins's illness is led by something to call up the images of those former patients and their cures. The intelligible character [ennoema]23 of the illness of the patient before him recalls that same intelligible character he had noticed in the illnesses of Jones, Smith and so on. The intelligible character of the illness is at work both in and through the perceived patient before him and in the doctor's mind, as well as in and through the images recalled of past patients. 22Nor with Thomas Aquinas' commentary on De Anima and what he wrote on perception and imagination in his own name, cf. Summa Theologiae, I, Q. 84, AA 6 and especially 7 and Q. 85, A 1. 23Metaphysics, 981a 6. 13 �Aristotle has a name for the kind of human imagination that works together, that is, cooperates, with thought: he calls it rational [logistike] imagination. It is distinguished from the kind of imagination that human beings share with the other animals, sensible imagination.24 Let us recall, however, that experience is cognition of individuals. The intelligible form is working away in the linkage and the unity of experience, but it, so to speak, has not come into its own yet. In science and art when one can say this kind of medicine cures this kind of illness, the intelligibility of the form that was at work in experience is explicitly and fully recognized in speech as a universal. This culminating contemplation of the form as a universal is described by Aristotle in a way that at first seems strange, he describes it as a coming to rest of the soul out of its normal and natural disorder. But it is not the rest of inertia, it is the very active and untroubled calm of natural fulfillment, the gratifying fulfilling of a potency that was there from the beginning.25 The Kantian account is more technical and impressive. It tells us about all sorts of processes that remained hidden until Kant explicated, or invented, them. The imagination plays a larger role than it does for Aristotle. The sense-data, for Kant, must first be assembled or synthesized by the imagination before we can recognize them as constituents of sense objects. The Kantian account describes a world, that in its intelligible essentials is of our own making. The Aristotelian account sticks much more closely to given experience, the causal factors it invokes almost seem to be extrapolations from the descriptions.26 It finds intelligibility, perhaps even intelligence, in things and the natural world. We are instructed not so much to grasp or construct it, as to open ourselves to it. II 24De Anima, 433b 29-31. 25Aristotle, Physics, 247b 5-18 and Posterior Analytics, lOOa 6. 26Aristotle does distinguish objects of sense that are proper to a sense, like the visible to sight, the audible to hearing, from incidental sense objects like "the white thing [that] is the son of Diares". [De Anima, 418a 7-26] What that colored thing is, is incidental to its simply being colored. But for human beings primary sense experience usually includes the what that is part of what constitutes the object of perception as a sensible thing. 14 �Freedom in the sense of autonomy, self-legislation, is the fundamental principle of Kantian morality. Rousseau, whom Kant speaks of as a kind of Newton of the moral world27, was perhaps the first to define freedom as self-legislation, but the idea is already implicit in Hobbes's theory of sovereignty and the social contract. We must obey the sovereign, Hobbes argues, because each of us through the social contract has agreed to allow his will to represent each of our wills. He is our representative. His legislation, because of the social contract, is, legally considered, our own self-legislation. Hobbes also formulated the more general principle underlying this conception: "there being no Obligation on any man, which ariseth not from some Act of his own; for all men equally are by Nature Free."28 Obligation seems to be something like a contract with oneself. This becomes even more explicit in Rousseau's doctrine of the general will. Freedom in society consists in uniting oneself with all the ,.rest under the general will that declares the law, while at the same time remaining free, that is, self-legislating, in so far as one has contributed to the making of that law, either by taking part in the legislative assembly oneself, or taking part in the election of legislators. The process that makes the will general also makes it moral. Being compelled to express one's will in such a form that it can become a general law, so that it can coincide with the wills of all the others, moralizes the will. For example, I don't like to pay taxes. If I generalize my desire into a law that no one ought to pay taxes, I am compelled to see that then the police, public schools, courts, the enforcement of contracts, and so on, would all disappear. The irrationality of my original desire becomes manifest. This idea is fully developed as a moral principle in Kant's doctrine of the categorical imperative: so act that the maxim of your action can become a universal law. The truly free or moral person, according to Kant, bows only to the moral will or practical reason within him or her self, and not to any standard coming from without. The standard of autonomy, self-legislation, is opposed by heteronomy, legislation by another. The two most powerful and prominent 27Ernst Cassirer, Rousseau, Kant and Goethe, Harper Torchbooks, (Harper and Row, 1963), p. 18. 28Leviathan, chapter 21. 15 �forms of heteronomy that are to be dethroned are the standard of nature derived from philosophy and the standard of God derived from Biblical revelation. Pure practical reason is the only source of moral law. Anything, therefore, empirical or sensual in origin is disqualified as a source or standard of moral worth: that rules out moral sense, moral feeling and pleasure. It also rules out happiness as a standard, happiness being understood by Kant as a kind of sum of satisfaction of empirical desire, or as he puts it, of inclination. The rational principle of heteronomy, the concept of perfection, at least does not, as the empirical principles do, undermine morality, but by its emptiness and vagueness is "altogether incapable of serving as its foundation."29 With this glance at certain programmatic aspects of the Grounding [Foundations] of a Metaphysics of Morals, we can now turn to the Metaphysics of Morals. The book is divided into two parts that correspond to the traditional division between political philosophy and ethics, the doctrine of right and the doctrine of virtue. Duties of right are defined as externally enforceable obligations, the external enforcer being a just, lawful, or rightprotecting political order. Duties of virtue, ethical duties, are internal obligations. Duty is a necessitation or constraint of free choice through the law. The constraint in ethical duties, then, is "self-constraint through the representation of the law alone, for only so can that necessitation (even if it is external) be united with freedom of choice."30 Free choice is not indeterminate, free choice is that choice that can be determined by pure reason.31 And just to wrap this up: throughout both parts of the book "obligation" refers to "the necessity of a free action under a categorical imperative of reason."32 But before we enter into some of the substance of the book, it is time to clear up one fundamental point. Kant frequently speaks of the 29Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten, AK IV, 443. 30AK. VI, 380. 31This appears to be an echo, or variant, of Spinoza's conception of freedom. Everything, according to Spinoza, is determined: freedom is the ability of the best human beings to be determined by clear and distinct ideas. (If we are not determined in our actions by clear and distinct ideas, we will be determined solely, or mainly, by natural causes like instincts, emotions and inclinations.) For Spinoza and German Idealism, as a whole, see Leo Strauss, Spinoza's Critique of Religfon, (New York: Schocken Books, 1965), Preface, pp. 15-17. 32AK VI ' 222 . 16 �unbridgeable gap between the domain of sensible empirical nature and the domain of moral freedom, as our earlier quote illustrated. Those statements turn out to be only provisional, to help us get clear about where our different principles are coming from. Freedom is a kind of causality. Although the natural causality of the sensible world cannot determine the subject as a moral, supersensible, being, yet the reverse is possible (not ... with regard to our cognition of nature, but ... with regard to the consequences that the concept of freedom has in nature); ... this possibility is contained in the very concept of a causality through freedom, whose effect is to be brought about in the world .... Those effects manifest themselves as appearances in the world of sense.33 This causality of freedom is another way of talking about how pure reason becomes practical: This can only happen when reason makes the individuals' maxims (subjective principles of action) fit for becoming universal law. And further, since we human beings are under the sway of nature's causality as well as freedom's, that power of reason can be exercised, Kant says, only by its prescribing the moral law in the form of imperatives that command or prohibit absolutely.34 A divine being, with no countervailing natural tendencies to oppose pure practical reason, acts in accordance with the moral law as a matter of course, with no need for any imperatives, any commands. Since my general aim here is to illustrate how Kant's sensible natural realm and supersensible moral realm come together in one and the same world, I will concentrate on the doctrine of virtue. Because that is where those sources of morality rejected in the Foundations as ultimate principles of morality are done justice to, as important factors in moral life. An end, Kant explains, is an object of free choice, the object of some action, and is thereby empirical. The traditional, or classical, procedure of clarifying the rank order of one's ends and then setting one's personal maxims of duty in terms of the rank order of those ends, violates 33See AK V, 195 and the note on 195 and 196. 34AK VI, 213-14; Mary Gregor translation (Cambridge University Press, 1996), pp . 1314. 17 �the concept of duty according to Kant. Duty with its categorical ought is rooted in pure reason alone, and thereby must be in control of the maxims by which one sets one's ends. The ends to be sought in ethics then are ends that are also duties. Although both nature and the concept of perfection seem to have been ruled out as fundamental moral standards in the Foundations, in section viii of the doctrine of virtue we find the end that is also a duty to cultivate one's own natural perfection. AB Kant also says in the Foundations, ends that are necessary and objective ends for every rational being, that is, ends in themselves, can serve as moral laws. Rational nature, he declares, is an end in itself. It follows that human beings, being rational natures, are obliged in their own person or in the person of another to always treat humanity as an end, not a means. The end of humanity in our own persons is linked to the duty to make ourselves worthy of humanity by cultivating our natural capacities to realize the ends set forth by our reason. Then Kant goes on, "That is to say, the human being has a duty to cultivate the raw abilities of his nature by which the animal first raises itself into a human being." Happiness, we remember, was also excluded from moral goals, but, Kant declares, the happiness of others is an end that is also a duty. The argument here is rather interesting, it seems to ground itself on universalizing a not very exalted natural and selfish principle. The reason why we have a duty to be beneficent is this: since our self-love cannot be separated from our need to be loved (helped in case of need) by others, we therefore make ourselves an end for others; and this maxim can never be binding except through its qualification as a universal law, and hence through our will also to make others our ends. The happiness of others is therefore an end that is also a duty. Shortly thereafter Kant again puts his prodigious deductive power in the service of his good sense by qualifying this duty. "How far it should extend depends ... on what each person's true needs are in view of his sensibilities, and it must be left to each to decide this for himself." For to promote the happiness of another at the sacrifice of one's own happiness 18 �(one's own true needs) would be in itself a self-conflicting maxim, if one made it into a universal law.35 In the light of the Foundations, section xii of the Metaphysics of Morals is especially interesting: outlawed feeling and pleasure come into their own. The subject is those "moral endowments" resting on feeling that are required to prepare the mind to receive concepts of duty and to act on them. There are duties to cultivate these right dispositions of feeling. Moral feeling is "the susceptibility to pleasure or displeasure merely from the consciousness that our action is either in agreement with or is contrary to the law of duty." Shortly thereafter a remarkable statement follows : "for all consciousness of obligation depends on this feeling." It is this feeling that makes us aware of the constraint that lies of in the concept _ duty. There is no duty to have or acquire it, because every human being (as a moral being) already has it. The obligation can "only be to cultivate it and, through wonder at its inscrutable [unerforschlichen cnot to be searched into] source, to strengthen it"36 To lack it is to be morally dead. Kant continues, in appropriately passionate language, "and if, (to speak in medical terms) the moral life-force could no longer excite this feeling, then humanity would dissolve (as it were by chemical laws) into mere animality and be mixed irretrievably with the mass of other natural beings. "37 The other great source of heteronomy, both the Foundations and The Critique of Practical Reason tell us, is the biblical God of revelation. Kant ends the Metaphysics of Morals by speaking of religion as an integral part of the general doctrine of duties, but says that considered as a doctrine of duties to God it lies outside the boundaries of pure moral philosophy. The necessity for religion is stated quite clearly: "we cannot very well make obligation (moral constraint) intuitive for ourselves without thereby thinking of another's will, namely God's (of which reason in giving universal laws is only the spokesman)." This duty with regard to God, he goes on, is really a duty to the idea we ourselves make of such a being, it is really a duty of a human being to him or her self, "for the sake 35AK. VI, 391-94; Gregor translation, 154-56. 36AK. VI, 399-400. 37Mary Gregor translation, p. 160. 19 �of strengthening the moral incentive in our own lawgiving reason."38 Kant hints that if we would really like to follow up this subject, we could consider his book Religion within the Bounds of Reason Alone, where the agreements between pure practical reason and the teachings of history and revelation are explored. That book, like the Metaphysics of Morals, is one of those rare places where Kant describes human beings as we know them, whole human beings who are at one and the same time natural and moral beings. It may be fitting to end this talk with some brief remarks about Kant's discussion of religion. The Critique of Pure Reason established, according to Kant, that we have no knowledge. positive or negative, concerning the existence of God. Religion, Kant argues, is unambiguously subordinated to morality, to moral reason. "Pure moral legislation, through which the will of God is primordially engraved in our hearts, is not only the unavoidable condition of all true religion whatsoever, but is also that which really constitutes such religion." True religion, he argues, "is a purely rational affair."39 Religion within the limits of reason alone establishes what in the absence of knowledge we are obliged to believe, in order to strengthen our capacities to obey the moral law. Kant had trouble getting his book on religion printed. Permission to publish was withheld because of opposition from officials of the theological faculties at the universities. Morals and religion, they argued, fell under the jurisdiction of the theological faculty, not the faculty of philosophy to which Kant belonged. (This jurisdictional issue was probably not the deepest ground for their opposition.) Kant had argued as early as The Critique of Pure Reason that moral theology in answer to the question "What may I hope?" was an indispensable part of philosophy. After a few years of rejection by some censors and acceptance by others, Kant did get his Religion ... book published.· But the practical and theoretical questions connected with the affair evidently led him to write what became a part of his last book, The Confiict of the Faculties. 38Jbid., 229·30. 39Die Religi.on innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, AK VI, 104; Der Streit der Fakultiiten, AK VII, 67, The Confl,ict of the Faculties, (New York: Abaris, 1979), translated by Mary Gregor, p.123. 20 �I bring this talk to a close with Kant's comments in that book on the traditional idea that philosophy is the handmaid of theology, He grants theology's "proud claim", but raises the question: Is she, however, the handmaid that walks behind bearing her gracious mistress's train, or the torchbearer that walks ahead to light the path?40 40AK VII, 28. 21 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 21 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Laurence, 1928- Title A name given to the resource Putting things back together again in Kant Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2000-04-14 Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on April 14, 2000 by Laurence Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 69193 Subject The topic of the resource Kant, Immanuel, 1724-1804 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a title="Audio recording" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1084">Audio recording</a> (Entitled "Gettings things back together again in Kant") Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/345703d909a45033913e49071f77ebfd.pdf 8689833ffd004331496dad79cfd838c5 PDF Text Text GISELA BERNS A lecture delivered at St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland February 26, 1982 �lchiller's DramaFulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry GISELA BERNS A lecture delivered at St. John's College Annapolis, Maryland, Febrpary 26, 1982 �Schiller's Drama Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry n lllJ onight, I shall speak on a poet whom I have loved from early on. As Shakespeare in English speaking countries, Schiller, in German speaking countries, is first read in school. This means that everyone knows him as a classic whose poems and plays are the sources for many of the most famous formulations in the German language. For a long time, inadequate translations kept Schiller from being appreciated in English speaking countries. Now, however, with good new translations of his dramatic and major philosophical work 1 available, there is no reason why the noble voice of this passionately rational poet should not reach and touch the hearts and minds of readers in America. After a brief introduction about Schiller as contemporary of the Founding Fathers of this country, a sketch of his life 2 and work shall show in what sense he understood poetry to be a fulfillment of history and philosophy. In a letter of 1783, the young Schiller writes to a friend: I cannot stand it any longer. Surely, I find a number of excellent people everywhere and , perhaps, could still settle at some place, but I have to get away, I want to go to America , and this shall be my farewell letter .. .. I have already obtained exact information about my trip . But, you will ask, what to do there? That, time and circumstances shall tell . I have not neglected my medical profession - also I probably could teach philosophy there as professor - maybe also get involved in politics - perhaps even none of all of these . But tragedies, for that matter, I shall never cease to write-you know my whole being hangs on it. 3 With a promise of news from America and greetings to his old friends, Schiller bids farewell. Whether this plan was meant seriously, or whether it was merely a manoeuvre to deceive the authorities about his movesthe fact remains that he would have felt at home in America. Forced into the Duke of Wiirttemberg's military academy, where the promising sons of the country were educated towards various professions, Schiller had spent his young years, from age thirteen to twentyone, in an atmosphere of oppressive regimentation. Forbidden to read or write St. Johns Lecture Series 1 �poetry, he had finally risked his life in a dangerous flight to f.reedom. All his plays - from The Robbers (started at the time of the Declaration of Independence) to William Tell (finished at the time of Jefferson's first presidency)-deal with one theme: the problem of freedom. Focusing on great revolutionary ideas like the conflict between nature and convention, .· explored in The Robbers and in Intrigue and Love, or on great revolutionary figures of history like Piesco, Don Carlos, Wallenstein, Mary Stuart, T}Je Maid of Orleans, and William Tell, all of Schiller's plays, even The·Bride of Messina, modeled on the Oedipus story, wrestle with the problem of freedom. In recognition of this historical role, Schiller, in 1793, was awarded honorary citizenship of the French Revolution (the fact that the document did not reach him till 1798, long after its signer, Danton, had himself become a victim of that revolution, Schiller always considered an ironic reminder of the problematic nature of freedom). Another consequence of Schiller's concern for freedom was the disappearance of plays like William Tell and Don Carlos from the German theater under Hitler. As 0. Seidlin, in his article Schiller: Poet of Politics, reports: A quarter of a century ago, when darkness descended upon Schiller's native country, a darkness that was to engulf all of mankind in the shortest possible time, a theater in Hamburg produced one of Schiller's great dramatic works, Don Carlos . It is the play which culminates in the stirring climax of its third act, the confrontation scene between King Philip of Spain and the Marquis Posa, the powerful verbal and intellectual battle between the rigid and autocratic monarch, contemptuous of mankind and gloomily convinced that only harsh and tyrannical suppression can preserve peace and order in his vast empire, and the young, enthusiatic advocate of revolutionary principles, who demands for his fellow citizens the untrammeled right to happiness, the possibility of unhampered self-development and self-realization of every individual . The scene rises to its pitch with Marquis Posa's brave challenge flung into the king's face: "Geben Sie Gedankenfreiheitl -Do give freedom of thought!" When this line, one of the most famous in all German dramatic literature, resounded from the Hamburg stage in the early years of Hitler's terror, the audience under the friendly protection of darkness burst out, night after night, into tumultuous applause. So dangerous and embarrassing to the new rulers proved a single verse of the greatest German playwright, who by then had been dead for fully a hundred and thirty years, that the management of the theater was forced to cut out the scandalous line. But the audience, knowing their classic well enough even if it was fed to them in an emasculated version, reacted quickwittedly: from that evening on they interrupted the performance by thunderous applause at the moment when Marquis Posa should have uttered his famous plea on the stage - and did not . After these incidents the play was withdrawn from the repertoire altogether. 4 A similar story, I heard from my German literature teacher who was present at a Don Carlos performance in Berlin, where Marquis Posa's request for freedom of thought made the audience, in dramatic silence, rise to their feet like one man. A contemporary of the Founding Fathers of this country, inspired by the ideal of human freedom, and set on writing tragedies (no matter what profession he would have taken up in this New World), Schille~~ight 2 Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �have given us that sorely missing drama on the American Revblution. Such a drama (as H. Jantz, in his article William Tell and the American Revolution 5 , suggests) could have been written either from the British point of view (something like Aeschylus' Persians) or from the American point of view (something like Schiller's William Tell) . In more than one prominent place, Schiller's proud formulations recall Hamilton's statement in Federalist One: It has been frequently remarked that it seems to have been reserved to the people of this country, by their conduct and example, to decide the important question , whether societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force. If there be anv truth in the remark, the crisis at which we are arrived may with propriet}· bt> regarded as the era in which that decision is to be made; and a wrong election of the part we shall act may, in this view, deserve to be considered as the general misfortune of mankind. At the beginning of his poem The Artists, a panoramic history of mankind, written in 1789, Schiller speaks of man as "the ripest son of time, free through reason, strong through laws", standing "at the close of the century" in "noble, proud manliness." In a similar vein, Madison, in Federalist Fourteen, asks : Is it not the glory of the people of America, that , whilst they have paid a decent regard to the opinions of former times and other nations, they have not suffered a blind veneration for antiquity, for custom, or for names, to overrule the suggestions of their own good sense, the knowledge of their own situation, and the lessons of their own experience? To this manly spirit, posterity will be indebted for the possession, and the world for the example, of the numerous innovations displayed on the American theater, in favor of private rights and public happiness . Had no important step been taken by the leaders of the Revolution for which a precedent could not be discovered, no government established of which an exact model did not present itself, the people of the United States might, at this moment, have been numbered among the melancholy victims of misguided councils, must at best have been laboring under the weight of some of those forms which have crushed the liberties of the rest of mankind. Happily for America, happily, we trust, for the whole human race, they pursued a new and more noble course. They accomplished a revolution which has no parallel in the annals of human society. They reared the fabrics of governments which have no model on the face of the globe. Mindful of his own call to the artists to "preserve and rekindle the dignity of mankind," Schiller, in the Prologue to Wallenstein, proclaims: Now at this century's impressive close, As actuality itself is turned To art, as we see mighty natures locked In struggle for a goal of lofty import, As conflict rages for the great objectives Of man, for masterdom, for freedom, now Art is allowed assay of higher flight Upon its shadow-stage; indeed it must be, Lest it be put to shame by life's own stage.6 In order to appreciate this "higher flight" of Schiller's art, let us take a look at his life and work. St. John's Lecture Series 3 �Schiller's life, from 1759 to 1805, was, except for his early childhood and the beginning years of his marriage, a never ending struggle. First against a tyrannical ruler, later . against poverty and prejudice, finally against a fatal illness which racked the last fifteen years of his short life. A struggle it was, this life of Schiller's, but what a glorious struggle! A testimony to man's ability to overcome or, in Wallenstein's proud words, to the conviction that "it is the mind which builds itself the body. "7 Schiller's father , by his own report, offered a prayer on the occasion of Schiller's birth: And you, Being of all beings! You I begged, after the birth of my only son, that you would add to his strength of mind what I, for want of education, could not reach . s Still a child , Schiller had set his heart on studying theology . The Duke's interference not only separated Schiller from his family , hut also made it impossible for him to pursue the desired studies . After a year of broad general education in Sciences and Humanities, with strong emphasis on philosophy, Schiller took up, at first, the study of law, later, since he deemed it "bolder" and "more akin to poetry", the study of medicine. One theme, again and again to be explored in his poetry, he first thought through in his dissertation which, a cross between medicine and philosophy, bears the title On the Connection between Mans Animal and Spiritual Nature . The great breakthrough of his passion for poetry came after Schiller, at age sixteen, had been introduced to Shakespeare. Emboldened by his love for Shakespeare, he was obsessed with the idea of writing a play that would expose all the evils of conventional society. At the same time filled with admiration for the ancient heroes of Plutarch, and the modern sentiments of Rousseau , Schiller, for years, feverishly and passionately, worked on his Robbers. The performance of The Robbers, in 1781 , at the famous theater of Mannheim, made Schiller, in one day, gain immortal fame and lose his homeland. Hailed by one reviewer as the coming "German Shakespeare"9 , he was ordered by the Duke, under penalty of arrest, to stop writing anything hut medical works. With the help of a young musician, Schiller, in disguise, fled to Mannheim where he hoped to find the needed support for his poetic existence. Instead, he had to spend months in hiding, working on his Piesco and Intrigue and Love, before the authorities accepted him even there. While Intrigue and Love, a "bourgeois tragedy", scourges the injustices perpetrated by the nobility against the lower classes (as in the heartrending scene about the forced recruitment of troops to be sold to the British for the Revolutionary War in America), The Conspiracy of Piesco at Genoa , a "republican tragedy", for the first time, strikes a theme that, in one or another form, rings through all of Schiller's subsequent plays. As A. Lincoln, later, formulated it in his Perpetuation speech: Many great and good men sufficiently qualified for any task they should undertake, may ever be found, whose ambition would aspire to nothing beyond a seat in Congress, a gubernatorial or a presidential chair; but such belong not to the family of the lion, or the tribe of the eagle. What! think you these places would satisfy an Alexander, a Caesar, or a Napoleon?Neverl Towering genius disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions hitherto 4 Schillers Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �unexplored. - It sees no distinction in adding story to story, upon-the qionuments of fame, erected to the memory of others. It denies that it is glory enough to serve under any chief. It scorns to tread in the footsteps of any predecessor, however illustrious. H thirsts and burns for distinction; and, if possible, it will have it, whether at the expense of emancipating slaves, or enslaving freemen. 10 After the "Storm and Stress" of The Robbers, Piesco, and Intrigue and Love, Schiller, in 1787, reached a first classical height with Don Carlos. Not only through his change from rhythmic prose to measured verse, but even more so through his sovereignty in dealing with the theme, the conflict between revolutionary idealism and imperialistic realism. While Schiller's earlier plays paint good and evil in stark, clashing colors, Don Carlos, more subtly, portrays them in their haunting complexity. The conflict between Philip II of Spain, despotic ruler of the catholic world, and Marquis Posa, idealistic fighter for freedom, interwoven with the story of Don Carlos, his desperate love for the queen, and his selfsacrificing friendship for Marquis Posa, appears the more tragic, as it shows the human situation in all its agony of heart and mind. More than one great writer after Schiller, struck by the tragic beauty of Don Carlos, has integrated parts of it into their work, so Dostoyevsky, with the "Grand Inquisitor" scene in The Brothers Karamazov, so Th. Mann, with the burning admiration of Tonio Kroger for the breath-taking scene in Don Carlos, where the king is said to have wept. A scene to which Mann, in his late Essay on Schiller, confesses to have "early given his homage" 11 • As a preparation for Don Carlos, Schiller had occupied himself more and more with historical studies which, in 1788, resulted in a substantial History of the Revolt of the United Netherlands from the Spanish Rule. In recognition of this comprehensive, dramatically written work, the University of Jena, in 1789, offered him a professorship. Besides lecturing on Universal History and Aesthetics, he devoted himself to his second major historical work, the History of the Thirty Years War, later to become the basis for his monumental trilogy on Wallenstein, the imperial general of the Thirty Years War. The summer before settling in Jena, Schiller had met Charlotte v. Lengefeld, his future wife, in whose circle of family and friends the young poet, every evening read from Homer and the Greek tragedians. Filled with a kind of Grecomania, Schiller threw himself into translating Euripides' lphigeneia in Aulis, an activity from which he hoped to gain classical purity and simplicity. In a letter to the sisters v. Lengefeld, Schiller writes: My Euripides still gives me much pleasure, and a great deal of it also stems from its antiquity. To find man so eternally remaining the same, the same passions, the same collisions of passions, the same language of passions. With this infinite multiplicity always though this unity of the same human form. 12 In the spirit of those days, Schiller composed a long melancholy poem, entitled The Gods of Greece. A lament about the vanishing of beauty and nobility from the modern world, it rings out: Als die Gotter menschlicher noch waren, Waren Menschen gottlicher. St. John's Lecture Series 5 �When the gods still were more human, Men were more godlike. Together with his subsequent study of Kant, this immersion in Greek antiquity became crucial for Schiller's Aesthetic Writings. . A terrible illness of Schiller's, in 1791, resulted in the rumor of his death. When a circle of admirers in Denmark, months later, discovered that Schiller was still alive, they prevailed upon the Duke of SchleswigHolstein-Augustenburg to ease the burden of the poet's daily existence and, for a few years, bestow a pension on him . In his acceptance letter, full of joy over the unexpected freedom to devote himself to the "formation of his ideas'', Schiller writes: Serenely I look to the future- and if the expectations of myself should prove to have been nothing but sweet illusions with which my oppressed pride took revenge on fate, I for one shall not lack the determination to justify the hopes two excellent citizens of our century have placed in me . Since my lot does not allow me to act as benefactor in their way, I shall , nevertheless, attempt it in the only way that is given to me - and may the seed they have spread unfold in me into a beautiful blossom for mankind. 13 With the same mail, Schiller ordered Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. Earlier that year, in the throes of his illness, he had begun to read the Critique of Judgement and had come to the conclusion that nothing short of a thorough understanding of Kant's philosophical system would satisfy him. For.three years, a long time in so short a life as Schiller's, he studied Kant and wrote his own philosophical essays: On Tragic Art, On Grace and Dignity, On the Sublime, On the Aesthetic Education oj Man, and On Naive and Sentimental Poetry . On the Aesthetic Educatio;1 of Man he wrote, as a gesture of gratitude, in the form of letters to the Duke of Schleswig-Holstein-Augustenburg. In order to appreciate the role of philosophy in Schiller's drama, let us take a closer look at two of his philosophical essays, On the Aesthetic Education of Man and On Naive and Sentimental ·Poetry. In his letters On the Aesthetic Education of Man, Schiller sketches out a history of mankind from a state of nature to a state of civilization , where the progress of the species towards a folfillment of human nature depends on the fragmentation of nature in the individual. This view of history, reminiscent to some extent of Rousseau 's Second Discourse, is complemented, however, by Schiller's hope that the totality of our nature, destroyed by art in the process of civilization, might be restored by a higher art. Far from romantic longing for a "Golden Age" of nature, Schiller exclaims: I would not like to live in a different century and have worked for a different one. One is as much a citizen of one's time as one is a citizen of one's country . 14 Anticipating an objection to his concern about aesthetic education at the time of social and political revolutions, Schiller claims that the "path to freedom" leads through "the land of beauty" . 15 Implied in this is the claim that the contemplation of beauty, because of its mediation between the senses and reason, might be able to prepare man for the challenge of freedom. Looking back to the beginnings of civilization , Schiller states: Nature does not start any better with man than with the rest of her 6 Schiller '.s Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philp.sophy in Poetry �works : she acts for him, where he cannot yet act himself as free int~lli­ gence. But it is just this which makes him human that he does not stop at what mere nature made him to be,, but possesses the power through reason to retrace the steps which she anticipated with him , to transform the work of compulsion into a work of free choice and to elevate the physical necessity to a moral one. 16 Deeply conscious of the challenge, that the physical society, in time, may not cease for a moment, while the moral one, in the idea, forms itself, that for the sake of man's dignity his existence may not be endangered,1 7 Schiller strives for a model of humanity that would combine the natural beauty of the Greeks with the historical self-consciousness of the Moderns. Anticipating much of Hegel's philosophy of history, both in perspective and in formulation, Schiller portrays man's historical development as progress from a naturally to a rationally given form 18 of humanity. Paying homage to this kinship in thought, Hegel chooses two lines from Schiller's early poem Friendship as Finale of his Phenomenology of the Spirit. The slight change he makes in speaking of "Geisterreich" ("realm of spirits") rather than "Seelenreich" ("realm of the soul") points, I think, to a crucial difference between Hegel and Schiller. Concerned, more than the philosopher, about the fragmentation of human nature in the individual for the sake . of a greater differentiation of it in the species, the tragic poet exclaims: But can it be that man should be fated to neglect himself for any end? Should nature, through her ends, be able to rob us of a perfection which reason, through hers, prescribes for us? It, therefore, must be false that the development of the single faculties necessitates the sacrifice of their totality; or even if the law of nature tended there ever so much , it must be up to us to restore, by a higher art, this totality of our nature which art has destroyed . 19 Aiming at a balance between reason and the senses, Schiller (who, in 1793, was rereading both Kant's Critique of Judgement and Homer's Iliad) uses a Homeric simile: Reason herself will not battle directly with this uncouth power that resists her weapons and, as little as the son of Saturn in the Iliad, descend, acting herself, to the gloomy theater. But from the midst of the fighters she chooses the most worthy, attires him, as Zeus did his grandson, with divine weapons and, through his victorious force, effects the great decision. 20 This use of Achilles as a symbol of noble, and sometimes tragic, beauty is only one of many in Schiller's work. In his poem The Gifts of Fortune, Schiller extols the honor bestowed on Achilles by the gods, in his poem Nenia, their lament over him at his death. The idea, symbolized by Achilles, of truth manifesting itself in beauty, and therefore speaking to us through the senses as well as reason, implies a new appreciation of the senses: The path to divinity, if one can call a path what never leads to its destination, is opened up for man in his senses.21 Clearly in answer to Plato's Republic, Schiller regards "the priority of the sensuous drive" in man's experience "the clue to the whole history of human freedom." 21 In a highly dialectical sequence of steps, Schiller leads St. Johns Lecture Series 7 �from the synthesis of the senses and reason in man's contemplation of beauty to the synthesis of the material and formal drive in man's play drive to, finally, the synthesis of .t he physical and moral necessity in man's aesthetic freedom. Aware of the fact that aesthetic freedom , as a state of being, is only an ideal, but that , as momentary balance between the senses and reason, it is part of our human experience, Schiller states one of the most provocative sentences of his work: Man plays only where, in the full sense of the word, he is man: and he is fully man only where he plays . 23 The freedom of the aesthetic state, resulting from a balance between the necessity of the moral as well as physical state, Schiller considers the "highest of all legacies, the legacy of humaniti' : It, therefore, is not only poetically permitted, but philosophically right , if one calls beauty our second creator . For although she only makes our humanity possible and, for the rest, leaves it up to our free will how far we want to actualize it, she shares this trait with our original creator , nature, who likewise provided us with only the capacity for humanity , but left the use of it to our own determination of will. 24 Like, before him, Plato and, after him, Hegel , Schiller conceives of man's development from a natural to a moral being in terms of an analogy between the individual and the species. But where both Plato and Hegel insist on the sovereignty of reason over the senses, Schiller claims that "the path to the head has to be opened through the heart", for the individual as well as for the species 25 : The dynamic (or natural) state can only make society possible by overcoming nature through nature; the ethical (or moral) state can only make society necessary by subjecting the single to the general will; the aesthetic state alone can make society actual , because it consummates the will of the whole through the nature of the individual. 28 The reason for this Schiller sees in the fact that "beauty alone we enjoy, at the same time, as individual and as species, that is, as representatives of the species". Many interpreters of Schiller's aesthetic theories have wondered whether, in the end, Schiller considers the aesthetic or the moral state the highest form of humanity. This is a dilemma which, like Meno's opening question about virtue, cannot be answered directly . In terms of what is achieved, the moral state presents a pinnacle of human perfection; in terms of how it is achieved, the aesthetic state presents an ideal comparable only to the life of the Olympian gods. In that sense, Schiller concludes his letters: But does such a state of beautiful semblance exist, and where is it to be found? As need, it exists in every finely tuned soul, as reality, one might find it, like the pure 'church and the pure republic, only in a few select circles, where not mindless imitation of the ways of others, but inherent beautiful nature guides human behavior, where man goes through the most complex situations with bold simplicity and calm innocence, and neither finds it necessary to offend another's freedom in order to assert his own, nor to throw away his dignity in order to exhibit grace. 27 This combination of Grace and Dignity, representative of an ideal of humanity to be found among the Greeks but lost in modern times, Schiller 8 Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �sees preserved in Greek works of art: Mankind has lost its dignity, but art has saved and preserved it in significant stones; truth lives on in semblance, and out of the copy the original shall be reconstituted. 28 · Addressing himself to the task of the artist, Schiller exclaims: The artist certainly is the .son of his time , hut woe to him if, at the same time, he is its pupil or even its favorite. Let a beneficent deity snatch the suckling betimes from his mother"s breast , nourish him with the milk of a better age and allow him to reach maturity under a far off Grecian sky. Then , when he has become a man, let him return, a stranger, to his own century; yet, not in order to please it with his appearance, but terrible as Agamemnon's son , in order to purify it. The material he certainly will take from the present , but the form from a nobler time, yes, from beyond all time, borrowed from the absolute unchangeable unity of his being.24 This comprehensive task of the artist, to span the whole history of human civilization in an attempt to give mankind its fullest possible expression, Schiller discusses more specifically in On Naive and Sentimental Poetry . Understanding the poets as "preservers and avengers of nature'', he distinguishes between two types, the Naive poet as "being nature", the Sentimental poet as "seeking nature". Expressive of two states of mankind, Naive poetry of a union, Sentimental poetry of a separation between man and nature, both forms of poetry, in different ways, show a perfection of art: Naive poetry, as "imitation of reality'', by fulfilling a finite goal, Sentimental poetry, as "presentation of the ideal", by striving for an infinite goal. Schiller's terms Naive and Sentimental might sound confusing at first. They certainly do not mean what they mean today. The Naive poet, like a god behind his work, lets the world speak for itself. In that sense, Schiller considers not only Homer, but also Shakespeare and Goethe Naive poets. The Sentimental poet, on the other hand, an intellectual presence in his work, reflects on the world he portrays . In that sense, Schiller considers most modern poets, including himself, Sentimental poets. Striving for an ideal of poetry, Schiller raises the question, whether and how far, in the same work of art, classical individuality might be combined with modern ideality. The fulfillment of this task, to "individualize the ideal" and "idealize the individual", in Schiller's eyes, would not only constitute "the highest peak of all art", but also serve as that "higher art" which, in the letters On the Aesthetic Education of Man, was expected to restore the totality of human nature, destroyed by art in the process of civilization . Understanding On Naive and Sentimental Poetry "so to speak" a5 "a bridge to poetic production"30 , Schiller enters into a new period of poetry, divided between philosophical poems, ballads and historical dramas. In a letter of 1793, he writes to Count von Schimmelmann: I have, at the same time, the intention, in this way to reconcile myself with the poetic Muse whom, through my falling away to the historic Muse (a fall indeed) I have grossly offended. If I should succeed in regaining the favor of the god of poetry, I hope to hang up in his temple the spoils which I have labored to obtain in the realm of philosophy and history, and to dedicate myself to his service forever. 31 St. Johns Lecture Series 9 �To a letter of Countess von Schimmelmann's, in 1795, Schiller graciously replies: You wish, in your letter, that I continue in the poetic path which I have entered. Why should I not, if you find it worth your while to encourage me in it. Also by heeding your advice I only follow the inclination of my heart. From the beginning, poetry was the highest concern of my soul, and I only left it for a time in order to return to it richer and worthier. All paths of the human spirit end in poetry, and the worse for it, if it lacks the courage to lead them to this goal .32 Encouraged by his friendship with Goethe, Schiller, for the last ten years of his life devoted himself to poetry. This friendship which, to judge from their many letters, became a constant source of inspiration for both of them, had started with a famous conversation in July of 1794. On the way home from a convention of the Society of Natural Science in Jena, Goethe had presented his Metamorphosis of Plants to Schiller who, still a Kantian, had retorted: "But that is not an experience, that is an ideal" To which Goethe, with courteous irony, had replied: "I certainly should be ' glad to have ideas without my knowing and even to see them with my eyes." In a follow up letter to this conversation, Schiller draws the sum of the difference between the two of them: Your spirit, to an extraordinary degree, works intuitively, and all your thinking powers seem to have compromised on the imagination, so to speak, as their common representative . ... My mind works really more in a symbolizing way, and thus I am suspended, as a kind of hybrid, between concept and imagination, between rule and feeling, between technical head and genius . This, especially in former years, has given me a rather awkward appearance, in the field of speculation as well as in the art of poetry; for, usually , the poet overtook me where I was supposed to philosophize, and the philosophical spirit where I wanted to write poetry. Even now, it happens to me often enough that imagination disturbs my abstractions and cold reason my poetry. If I can master these two forces to the point that, through my freedom, I can assign each one its limits, a beautiful fate shall still await me . . . .33 Another relationship, crucial for Schiller's understanding of himself with respect to the Ancients, was his friendship with W. v. Humboldt, the great scholar in classical languages and literatures . In a letter of 1795, Humboldt writes: I believe I can justify this seemingly paradoxical sentence that you, on the one hand, are the direct opposite of the Greeks, since your products exhibit the very character of autonomy; and that, at the same time, you, among the moderns, again are closest to them . since your products, after Greek ones, express necessity of form; only that you draw it from yourself, while the Greeks take it from the aspect of external nature, which is likewise necessary in its form. Wherefore also, Greek form resembles more the object of the senses, yours more the object of reason, even though the former, finally, also rests on a necessity of reason, and yours, of course, also speaks to the senses. 34 After the completion of his Bride of Messina, in 1803, Schiller reminds Humboldt of this earlier exchange of theirs: My first attempt of a tragedy in strict form will give you pleasure; you will be able to judge from it, whether as contemporary of Sophocles I might 10 Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �have been able to carry off a prize. I have not forgotten that you called me the most modern of all newer poets and, therefore, thought me in opposition to everything that could be called ancient .3s In an introduction to the publication of their correspondence, 25 years after Schiller's death, Humboldt reminisces: What every observer had to notice in Schiller, as characteristically defining°, was that, in a higher and more pregnant sense than perhaps ever in anyone else, thought was the element of his life. Continual authentic intellectual activity left him almost never, and only yielded to the more violent attacks of his bodily illness. It seemed to him relaxation, not strain. This showed itself especially in conversation for which Schiller seemed most truly born. He never sought for a significant topic of discourse, he left it more to chance to bring up the subject matter, but from each he led the conversation to a more general perspective, and after a few exchanges one found oneself in the middle of a mind-provoking discussion. He always treated the thought as a result to be reached together, always seemed to need the interlocutor, even if one remained conscious of receiving the idea merely from him . . . Moving above his subject matter with perfect freedom, he used every sideline which offered itself, and so his conversation was rich in words that carry the feature of happy creations of the moment. The freedom, however, did not curtail the investigation. Schiller always held on to the thread which had to lead to its end. 36 Schiller's gift for friendship which, throughout his life, moved him, whether face to face or in letters, to engage in conversation, found its early expression in a letter of April 1783: In this wonderful breath of the morning, I think of you, friend- and of my Carlos . . . I imagine-Every poetic work is nothing but an enthusiastic friendship or Platonic love for a creation of our head .. . If we can ardently feel the state of a friend, we will also be able to glow for our poetic heroes. Not that the capacity for friendship and Platonic love would simply entail the capacity for great poetry - for I might be very able to feel . a great character without being able to create it. But it should be clear that a great poet has to have, at least, the capacity for the highest friendship, even if he has not always expressed it. 37 Schiller's return to poetry, and to dramatic poetry in particular, begins with a work which stands out in many ways. In the center between his four earlier and four later plays, Schiller's Wallenstein, his only trilogy, surpasses the others both in subject matter and in poetic form. Like the Republic among Plato's Dialogues, Wallenstein, among Schiller's plays, in one dramatic poem of epic dimensions, encompasses all the earlier and later themes. In order to appreciate its universality, let us first conclude our sketch of Schiller's life and work. Alternating. between a stricter and looser dramatic form, Schiller, in the last five years of his life, completed Mary Stuart, a "tragedy" about the Scottish queen and Elizabeth I, The Maid of Orleans, a "romantic tragedy" about Joan of Arc and her mysterious fight for France, The Bride of Messina, a "tragedy with choruses", modeled on the Oedipus story, and finally William Tell, a "drama" about the Swiss fight for independent unity. Of these later four plays, like the earlier ones focusing on the problem of freedom in connection with the conflict between natural herolsm and conventional authority, only William Tell is not a tragedy. Written St. John's Lecture Series 11 �as a New Year's present for 1895 (the opening year of Tolstoy's Wai: and Peace), William Tell portrays a "new birth of freedom" out of the strength of a people willing to fight for "the proposition that all men are created equal". The fact that Tell, though a leader figure, does not presume any power beyond the limits of republican government, avoids the abyss of tragedy. That William Tell should be Schiller's last finished, but not his last play seems to fit this "greatest adventurer of the history of the spirit'', as H.v.Hofmannsthal calls him. 38 Besides two dramatic works of which we have extensive fragments, there are about twelve titles of prospective plays in Schiller's work plan. In addition to his own plays, Schiller, at the end of his life, still completed two translations which, diametrically opposed to each other, show the range of his dramatic sensibility: the one, in 1801, Shakespeare's Macbeth, the other, in 1805, Racine's Phedre. One story from the last few days of his life seems to me more revealing than many a learned comment on his life and work: Bothered by the sight of a newspaper, edited by a writer he had a very low opinion of, Schiller begged: Please, take it out right away, so I can truthfully say I have never seen it. Give me fairy and knights' tales-there, indeed, lies the matter for everything great and beautiful. 39 In the Second Part of Goethe's Faust, early in the Classical Walpurgisnacht, Faust inquires of the centaur Chiron whom, among the heroes of his time, he thought to be the greatest. Not satisfied with Chiron's answer, Faust prods: "Of Hercules you want to make no mention?" To which Chiron replies: "01 do not rouse my longing ... I" Remembering Hercules as "a born king", Chiron claims that neither song nor marble will ever be able to express his magnificence. In his Essay on Schiller40 , Th. Mann suggests that with this scene, echoing Schiller's poem Ideal and Life which culminates in the transfiguration of Hercules, Goethe paid a final homage to their friendship. Faust's infatuation with Greek antiquity and his search for Helen as a symbol of beauty has to be understood in connection with Goethe's and Schiller's admiration for Homer and their aesthetic theories about a possible union between the natural grace and dignity of the Greeks and the historical self-consciousness of the Moderns. Entranced by this ideal which, in the late 1790s, was one of the main topics of their correspondence, both Goethe and Schiller produced works with Homeric overtones: Goethe his Hermann and Dorothea, Schiller his Wallenstein. Under the names of the nine Muses, starting with Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry, and ending with Urania, the Muse of philosophical poetry, the nine Cantos of Hermann and Dorothea present the whole realm of poetic expression. Set against the historical background of the French Revolution, the story of Hermann and Dorothea, together with the different modes of poetry evolving from each other, seems to be a modern version of Homer's Shield of Achilles. The Muse of epic poetry, however, not only governs the First Canto, but her spirit pervades the poem as a whole: Homeric meter, Homeric diction, Homeric epithets and episodes, though softened from herioc to idyllic tone, echo Iliad as well as Odyssey in every line of Goethe's poem. 12 Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �Schiller's Wallemtein, on the other hand, a monumental trilogy about the imperial general of the Thirty Years War, presents itself as a modern historical drama. An account of .the last few days of Wallenstein's life, culminating in his treason and, finally, his assassination, it confronts us with the issue of war and peace as symbol of the tragic situation of man. Disregarding religious and political interests, Wallenstein, a new Caesar, claims to be the only one able to unify Europe. Though noble in itself, this ideal, in the hands of lesser men, turns into a treacherous weapon which, in the end, is responsible for W~llenstein's tragic fall. Like the Divided Line in Plato's Republic, Schiller's Wallenstein, divided into the poet's Prologue and three plays, leads from the realm of the visible to the realm of the intelligible, from the realm of imagination and opinion to the realm of understanding and thought. Preceded by a Prologue about the intricate relationship of life and history to art and nature, the Wallenstein trilogy presents us first with Wallenstein's· "shadow image", emerging from the opinions of his soldiers, then with his "public self", surrounded by his family and his generals, and finally with his "private self', suspended between the freedom of his heaven bound reflections and the n~ity of his earthbound actions. Even in the context of Schiller's History of the Thirty Years War, an account of the confrontation betw'*'n the forces of the Emperor, defending Catholicism, and the forces of Gustav Adolf of Sweden, fighting for Protestantism, the rise and fall of W~lenstein in the service of the Emperor strangely reminds one of the fatJ' of the Homeric Achilles. The historical figures and events of the Thirty Years War seem to fit the poetic panorama of Homer's Iliad, where the natural enmity between Agamemnon, the ruler, and Achllles. the hero, almost outweighs their national enmity against Hector~ whose humanity encompasses both their natures. Ending his account of W,.Jlensteln's ·role in the Thirty Years War, Schiller states: · Thus Wallenstein, at the age of fffty, ended his action-filled and extraordinary life; raised by love of honor, felled by lust for honor, with all his failings still great and admirable, unsurpmable if he had kept within bounds. The virtues of the ruler and hero, prudence, justice, firmne$ and courage, tower In his character c:oloaally; but he lacked the gentler virtues of the man, which grace the hero and gain love for the ruler. 41 In answer to this Epilogue of the historian, the Prologue of the poet promises: Blurred by the favor and the hate of parties His image waven within history. But art shall now bring him more humanly And closer to your eyes and to your heart. For art, which binfls and Umlts everything, Brings all extremes IN!ck to the sphere of nature.•• In the Preface to his Bride oj Mealna, Schiller speab of the relationship of historical truth to poetic ~rqth or, as he calls it in On Tragic Art, to the truth of nature: Nature itself is only a spiritual idea, which never falls into the senses. Under the cover of the appearances It lies, but it itself never rises to ap- St. John 8 Lecture Set;ea 13 �pearance. Only the art of the .ideal is favored, or rather shouldered with the task to grasp this spirit of the whole and to bind it into bodily form. Even this (type of art] can never bring it before the senses, yet through her creative force before the power of the imagination, and thereby be more true than all reality and more real than all experience. From this it follows by itself that the artist cannot use a single .element from reality as he finds it, that his work must be ideal in all its parts, if it is supposed to have reality as a whole and agree with nature. Striving for a form of art that would be true both to historical reality and to nature, Schiller, in his Wallenstein, surrounds the modern world of the Thirty Years War with a mythical horizon of Homeric overtones. In a letter of 1794, in which he tells Korner of;'.'writing his treatise on the Naive and, at the same time, thinking about the plan for Wallenstein," Schiller confesses: In the true sense of the word, I enter a path wholly unknown to me, a path certainly untried, for in poetic matters, dating back three, four years, I have put on a completely new man . 43 · Reaching for the truth of nature by combining Naive and Sentimental poetry, Schiller integrates Homer's "imitation of nature" into his own "presentation of the ideal". In his advice.-to Goeth. who, at the time of e Schiller's work on Wallenstein, was engaged in his Achilleis, an epic poem about the death of Achilles, Schiller suggests: Since it is certainly right that no Iliad is possible after the Iliad, even if there were again a Homer and again a Greece, I believe I can wish you nothing better than that you compare your Achilleis, as it exists now in your imagination, only with itself, and in Homer only seek the mood, without really comparing your task with his .. . . For it is as impossible as thankless for the poet, if he should leave his homeground altogether and actually oppose himself to his time. It is your beautiful vocation to be a contemporary and citizen of both poetic worlds, and exactly because of this higher advantage you will belong to neither exclusively. 44 Like catalysts in the process of establishing an ideal mode of poetic expression, the echoes of Homer's Iliad in Schiller's Wallenstein accentuate its modernity. A major change from the History of the Thirty Years War, Schiller's Wallenstein, following Homer's Iliad, begins in the middle of the war. But where Homer, in the first seven lines of the Iliad, describes the wrath of Achilles, and the fateful clash between Achilles and Agamemnon, Schiller, in the Prologue to Wallenstein discusses the role of art, and art's relationship to history and nature. Befitting the ancient epic poem, Homer's description centers on Zeus and the fulfillm~nt of his will; befitting the modern dramatic poem, Schiller's discussio11 centers on the phenomenon of the great historical personality. · Both Homer's Iliad and Schiller's Wallenstein, with the Catalogue of Ships and the first play of the trilogy, exhibit the army and its various elements in a set picture. But where the Catalogue of Ships, preceded by an invocation to the Muse, merely lists the leaders of the Trojan war, Wallenstein s Camp (the model for Brecht'.s Mother Courage), depicts the dissolution of life in the state of war which, (as a state of nature in the 14 Schillers Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy iQ Poetry �midst of the state of society), perverts all human values. Both Homer's Iliad, in the center of its first half, and Schiller's Wallenstein, in the center of its central play, The Piccolomini, show the most tender human relationship exposed to the harsh reality of war. But where Homer, in the parting of Hector from wife and child on the wall of Troy, focuses on the conflict between family and society, Schiller, in the love scenes between Max and Thekla, focuses on the conflict between individuals and society. A poetic expression of Kant's Moral Law, founded on nothing but their hearts, love creates an island of freedom in the sea of historical necessity. Both Homer and Schiller, with the Shield of Achilles and the chalice of the banquet at Pilsen, use the detailed description of an artifact to highlight the world view implicit in each poem. But where the scenes on the shield depict human life within the timeless order of nature and, therefore, are self-explanatory, the scenes on the chalice require an explanation not only for their reference to a specific moment in human history, but also for their use of allegory in portraying that moment. Where Homer, in the First Book of the Iliad, tells of Achilles' meeting with Thetis, and of her visit to Zeus on Olympus, Schiller, in the opening scene of Wallenstein's Death, the last play of the trilogy, shows Wallenstein, concentrating on the long expected moment of the conjunction between the planets Venus and Jupiter. The change of perspective, from trusting in divine powers that are moved by will and fate to relying on heavenly bodies that move in accordance with universal laws, does not affect the hopes and the despair that either of them occasion. Both Homer and Schiller, with dramatic suspense, portray their heroes in thoughtful solitude. But where Homer paints the rich scene of Achilles sitting before his tent, in the company of Patroclos, and singing about the glory of men to the sound of his lyre, Schiller presents Wallenstein absorbed in a monologue, reflecting on the relationship of freedom and necessity in human nature. Unlike Achilles' song which, in the creative process, unites freedom and necessity, Wallenstein's reflection, in the form of a syllogism with invalid premisses, denies such a union and is left with the fragments of abstract thought. Achilles' restful repose conveys the harmony of his song as much as Wallenstein's restless stopping and starting the disharmony of his reflection. A striking change from the History of the Thirty Years War is Schiller's · modeling the friendship between Wallenstein and Max, the only nonhistorical character in the play, on the friendship between Achilles and Patroclos in Homer's Iliad. Both Homer and Schiller, in the poetic constellation of their characters and plots, make friendship, a middle ground between a natural and a conventional bond, the turning point for tragedy. Like the death of Patroclos for Achilles, the death of Max brings Wallenstein closer to realizing the tragic connection between freedom and necessity, borne out in the problematic relationship of nature and convention. The modern complexity of Schiller's Wallenstein, over and against the relative simplicity of Homer's Iliad, shows itself in content as well as in St. John's Lecture Series 15 �form. Expressive of the fragmentation of human nature in the course of history, Schiller's abstract language lends itself to portraying characters that are torn between action and reflection. Striving for a new totality of human nature, some of Schiller's characters parallel more than one of Homer's characters: So Max, both Patroclos and Hector; so Thekla, both Briseis and Andromache. This double role of the modern characters is the more significant, as it obliterates the enmity between Greeks and Trojans and thus points to an individuality which, viable or not, transcends the political nature of man. Complementary to the parallels of characters, parallels of plots create a maze of poetic affinities between the ancient epic and the modern tragic poem. Discontinuous and staggered, the parallels of plots seem to point not only to the fragmentation of human nature in modern times, but also to a new totality made possible through history. Intent on exploring the complementation of time and timelessness in the work of art, Schiller and Goethe, in their letters during the years of Schiller's work on Wallenstein, discuss the relationship of tragic to epic poetry. Perceiving them as complementary art forms, Schiller defines tragedy, standing under the category of causality, as the capture of "singular extraordinary moments of mankind", and epic poetry, standing under the category of substantiality, as the depiction of the "permanent, persistent whole" thereof. 45 In harmony with Aristotle's notion of tragedy as more comprehensive than epic poetry4 6 , Schiller changes his early plans for an epic poem about the Thirty Years War, centering on Gustav Adolf, to his final ones for a dramatic poem, centering on Wallenstein. Immersed in his task of translating Euripides, in Schiller's eyes a poet on the way from Naive to Sentimental poetry, Schiller, in 1789, had written to Korner: Let me add further that in getting better acquainted with Greek plays I, in.the end, abstract from them what is true, beautiful and effective and, by leaving out what is defective, I therefrom shape a certain ideal through which my present one shall be corrected and wholly founded . 47 In a letter to Goethe, in which he speaks of "sketching out a detailed scenario for Wallenstein'', Schiller remarks: I find the more I think about my own task and about the way the Greeks dealt with tragedy that everything hinges on the art of inventing a poetic fable. 48 Schiller's Wallenstein and Euripides' Iphigeneia in Aulis, which Schiller had translated in 1788, apparently follow the same poetic fable. In both dramas, the leader of the army orders members of his family to join him at his camp. In both, the political reasons for this move are disguised as personal reasons. In both, the heroic action of a youth close to the leader interferes with his plans and finally causes tragedy and death . In the comparison with Homer's Iliad, the main parallels were drawn between the Emperor and Agamemnon, Wallenstein and Achilles, and Max and Patroclos. In the comparison with Euripides' lphigeneia in Aulis, however, the main parallels would have to be drawn between Wallenstein and Agamemnon, Max and Achilles, and Thekla and Iphigeneia. 16 Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �The fundamental theme of Schiller's Wallenstein, the necessary connection between nature and convention, emerges in the "living shape" •9 of Wallenstein. presenting. in one modern historical figure, Achilles, the archetype of the natural hero. and Agamemnon, the archetype of the conventional ruler. In the 26th letter 011 the Ae.~thl'fic Edrt<'afion of Man, Schiller comments on the sovereign power of the artist: With unlimited fn>edom he can fit togt-thcr what nature separated, as long as lw can somehow think it togetht•r. and separate what nature connected, as long as he can only detach it in his mind. Here nothing ought to be sacred to him but his own law. as long as he only watches the marking which divides his province from the existence of things or realm of nature. True to the reality of history, Schiller presents Wallenstein in a modern historical drama, set in the world of the Thirty Years War. Separating what nature connected, Schiller abstracts from features of the historical Wallenstein which would disqualify him for being a tragic hero. True to the reality of poetry, where the historical characters, as poetic figures, become symbolic beings, Schiller presents Wallenstein in a dramatic poem, surrounded by a mythical horizon. Fitting together what nature separated, Schiller strikes parallels, respectively, between one historical and more than one mythical character, and between one historical and more than one mythical plot. The fact that the poetic figure of Wallenstein reflects the archetypes from Homer and Euripides in a cross between naturally opposed, but artistically complementary characters demonstrates both the fragmentation and the striving for a new totality of human nature in the course of history. By reflecting the Iliad as well as the pregnant moment before the Iliad, Schiller's Wallenstein, a living example of the unity of time and timelessness, opens up a perspective from history to epic as well as tragic poetry. With his integration of Greek "imitation of nature" into his own "presentation of the ideal", Schiller seems to point to the fulfillment of an ideal in which art and nature would meet again. To a letter in which Korner had suggested a few changes in the plot of Wallenstein, Schiller replies with unusual sharpness: A product of art, insofar as it has been designed with artistic sense, is a living work, where everything hangs together with everything, where nothing can be moved without moving everything from its place. 50 Correlation of everything with everything can be detected in more than one element of Schiller's dramatic poem: the polarity of characters sus.tains the symmetry of plots which, in concentric circles of scenes and acts, form the whole of the trilogy. Corresponding to the three parts of the Prologue, the three plays of Wallenstein explore the relationship between nature and art, portrayed in the life of individuals, representative of the life of mankind. Schiller's integration of characters and plots from Greek epic and tragic poetry into his modern historical drama contributes to the symbolic nature of his poetic figures and poses the question of the relationship between Ancients and Moderns, fully discussed in his philosophical writings. The correspondence between dramatic characters St. Johns Lecture Series 17 �and aesthetic principles ties together life and art by interpretir{g them in terms of history, understood in the light of .nature. The evidence of such comple.x relationships between the various elements of Schiller's Wallenstein certainly proves it to be a "product of art", but does it prove it to be a "living work?" In a long painstaking letter about Wallenstein , W .v. Humboldt writes to his friend: We often talked with each other about this poem, when it was scarcely more than sketched out. You considered it the touchstone with which to test your poetic capacity. With admiration, but also with apprehension, I saw how much you bound up in this task .. . . Such masses no one ever has set in motion; such a comprehensive subject matter no one ever has chosen ; an action, the motivating springs and consequences of which, like the roots and branches of a tremendous tree-trunk, lie so far spread out and dispersed in such diverse forms, no one ever has presented in one tragedy. 51 In a letter to Korner , Schiller confesses: None of my old plays has as much purpose and form as my Wallenstein already has; but, by now, I know too well ~hat I want and what I have to do that I could make the task so easy for myself.52 In the light of his notion of the poets as "preservers" and "avengers" of nature, Schiller, in the letters On the Aesthetic Education of Man, compares the artist to Agamemnon's son who returns to the house of his fathers in order to avenge the past on the present. Understanding him as a contemporary and citizen of more than one world, Schiller advises the artist to take the material for his work from the present, but the form from "a nobler time, yes, from beyond all time, borrowed from the absolute, unchangeable unity of his being". In compliance with his own advice, Schiller takes the material for his Wallenstein from modern history, but the form from a blend of Naive and Sentimental poetry, explicated in the aesthetic theories of his philosophical writings . Fully aware of the artificial nature of such a process, Schiller, nevertheless, expects to achieve an ideal of poetry in which history and philosophy would contribute to the vindication of nature. The fact that no one, for now almost two hundred years, has seen that Schiller's Wallenstein, in appearance the most modern of his dramas, in substance is also the one where Naive and Sentiµiental poetry blend most completely, should be enough of an indication that history and philosophy, though indispensable for Schiller's work, are only means towards a higher goal: their fulfillment in poetry. To end with Schiller's own words 53 : All paths of the human spirit end in poetry, and the worse for it if it lacks the courage to lead them there . The highest philosophy ends in a poetic idea, so the highest morality, the highest politics. The poetic spirit it is to which all three owe their ideal and which to approximate is their highest perfection. 18 Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry �1. 3!J. 40 41. 42 . Translations of dramatic works, by C . E. Passage, Wallenstein, 1958; Don Carlos, 1959; Mary Stuart , The Maid of OrleaflB, 1961: The Bride of Messina, William Tell, Demetrius, 1962; Intrigue and Love, 1971; Ungar, New York; by F . J . Lamport, The Robbers and Wallenstein, Penguin, 1979. Translations of philosophical works, On the Aesthetic Education of Man, by R. Snell, Ungar, New York, 1954; by E . M. Wilkinson and L.A. Willoughby, dual language edition with extensive introduction and commentary, Oxford, 1967: On Naive and Sentimental Poetry and On the Sublime, by J. A. Elias, Ungar, New York, 1966. The main sources for my account of Schiller's life are: F. Burschell, F. Schiller, In Selbstzeugnissen und Bilddokumenten, Rowohlt, Hamburg, 1958; C.v . Wilpert, SchillerChronlk, Sein Leben und Schaffen, Kroner, Stuttgart, 1958. Given the format of a public lecture, references to secondary literature, except for a few places, have been kept ·out of the account. To Lempp (?),Jun. 19, 1783. 0 . Seidlin, "Schiller, Poet of. Politics", in A Schiller Symposium, ed. L. Willson, U. of Texas, Austin, 1960, pp. 31-48. · H. Jantz, "William Tell and the American Revolution", in A Schiller Symposium, op . cit ., pp. 65-81. Wallemtei11 , Prol .. II. 61-69 (tran<lation hy C . E . Pas.<age: "great objectives", my correction). Wallen.otein'.• Death, III. 13, I. 1813. F . Burschell . F. Schiller. op . cit ., p . 7. C.v. Wilpert. Schiller-Chronik, op . cit .. p. 41. A. Lincoln. "The Perpetuation of our Political ln<titutions'', Address Before the Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield. Illinois, Jan . 27, 1838. Th. Mann, Ver.mch Ober Schiller. Fischer, Frankfurt a.M .. 1955, p. 35 (cf. La•t E..•ays , translation hy R. and C . Win<ton . Knopf. New York, 1966. p. 29. but without this personal reference). To Ch . and C. v. Lengefeld. Dec. 4. 17R8. To Baggesen. Dec. 16. 1791. On fhe Ae..thetic Ed1wati1m of Ma11 . Letter 2. Ibid .. Letter 2. /bit/ .. Letter 3. Ibid .. Letter 3. Ibid .. Letter 6. Ibid .. Letter 6. Ibid .. Letter 8. Ibid., Letter 11. Ibid .. Letter 20. Ibid .. Lettt'r 15. Ibid .. Letter 21. Ibid .. Letter 8. Ibid .. Letter 27. Ibid .. Letter 27. /hit/ .. Letter 9. Ibid .. Letter 9. To Korner. Sep. 12. 1794 . To E.v. Schimmelmann. Jul. 13. 179.1. To C.v . Schimmelmann. No\' , 4. 1795. To Goethe. Aug . .11. '1794. To Schiller. No\'. 6. 1795. To Humholdt. Feh. 17. lll0.1 . Ober Schiller rmtl tle11 Gang .<ei11er Gei.ttt'"n1tu:ick/1mg. 1830, in Werke , II, ed. A. F1itner/K . Giel . Wis.•en<chaftliche Buchitesellschaft. Darm<tadt , 1969, pp. 361-362. To Reinwald. Apr. 14, 17R3, quoted from F . Burschell, F. Schiller. op cit ., pp . 47-48 . Hofmannsthal. "Schiller". in Arisgeu:iihlle Werke. II, Erzahlungen und Aufsiitze, Fischer, Frankfurt a .M.. 1957, p . 40R. <)uo!L'd from F. Rur.chell . f. Schiller, op. cit .. Jl. 166. Th. Mann. "Es.<a\· on Schiller" in La.ti E.""Y"· op. cit .. pp. 81-84. Schiller. lli"tory ~f thi• 1'hirty Year.t War. End of Book IV. Wal/1•n"fein. Prol., II. 102-107 (translation hy C. E. Pas.<age: "within" , "heart", my 4.1 . 44 . 45 . To Korner. Sep. 4, 1794. To Goethe. Ma\· IR. 179R. To Cnethc. Ap~. 25. 1797: Aufo! . 24. 179R. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. R. 9. IO . 11. 12. 1.1. 14 . 15. 16. 17. IA. 19. 20 . 21. 22 . 23 . 24 . 25 . 26. 27 . 2R . 2!J . 30. 31. 32. 33. 34 . 35. .36. 37 . .1R . H ,,., t·orre<:tions) . St. John'.\· Lecture Series 19 �46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 20 To Goethe, May 5, 1797. To Korner, Mar. 9, 1789. To ~the, Apr . 4, 1797. On the Aesthetic Education of Man , Letter 15. To Korner, Mar . 24, 1800. · To Schiller, Sep. 1800. To Korner , Nov . 28 , 1796. To C.v . Schimmelmann, Nov . 4, 1795 . Schiller's Drama - Fulfillment of History and Philosophy i11 Poetry � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 19 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Gisela N. Title A name given to the resource Schiller's drama : fulfillment of history and philosophy in poetry Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1982-02-26 Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on February 26, 1982 by Gisela Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 57327 Subject The topic of the resource Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805. German literature Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a title="Audio recording" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1083">Audio recording</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/5a000f7802f4341cb5b151e0cfd5e5c5.pdf 0209ceed633dacf966acfee5cfc02c77 PDF Text Text 't'!MF. AMP NATURE IN LlTCRET!US 1 "DE RERUM NATUR!\ 11 GiselA. B�rns · · St. ·r John's ColJP�e ... Annapolis, MarylRn� �Revised version of R lecture, �1ven at March 1974. St. John's College, Translations of the Latin quotes appended at the end. �1 I: In bno'k one of •n� a. niscnssion or . 'T'hemP. r e ru m . n.'l tnr::t" , · 1 n th� context of thin.rr:�, Lucre- properti�s ann accinents of tius �ef1 nes time as a�ciitent of motion ( 1., IJ,t;Q-82): tempus item pe:r- se non est, serl rebus ah fpt=;iS con'3equitnr sP.nsus, transactum qntd s1. t in n0vo, tnm qu�e res 1..nstet, quid porro deind� sequrttur; nee ner se quAmquam temptl's sentir� f'at�ndumst ��r.1otum ab rernm motu placid::1que qulete. {1, 459-63) 'rh� ttoro distinguishable aspects of time are: net'cn,�nce on motion a'ld rest of thin�s, aml �P.n'"'n�ence on human perception. Epicurus fh I �, u G � w . S , .a A han {1e fi nfht time as s/s K«-T�7:e1·r:ll<-?. ::tn:v mot.ion"2. "�n'1�1t�" f.ln.d as ·� J 1) its 2) . �c<.'ll"z;"o(. 6'c...dll(. I tn t.ucretius• df"fi.n1t.ton, 1. ts in his l'TOrl{ cert::tin mea!-':!lrinf"" .1 I rLS . · . Tte� I I l.(.tv·"t�·f.l-()5 ""' n�rc�rtton of . hm-mv0r, l•rh�rn "s�ntire"• l'ther� "fe�l:tnr:.. "ta.'kes·the place of , or 11 a c�rtnt� 1m11� tl;rr-P. t�rm�: "tf'":'mnnG11, •aetnl=l", 118.P,rum", 1V"'0M to lJr . 1Yl �t��h n Nrty t:hat 11tP.mpuR" t1enot0� th .... r.ost Flht::t:"'JC:t, 11RP'VI�m11 t'l-10 mo�t concr�t.; !'l�pe�t of ti.11e, while· "nt=-t.""r;" �rw('rs r- ..1th, !ll,rd:rnct arid concrete mc1ni n.n;. n ... .... f'l ?p�n. H�rc. 1413, Pr. 55, A. BA'PI('-.\'?.7,1, eel. and. c0rnm. , T1 concPtto del tempo nella fisj ca r1tom:t�t icll, Epimn ,.n. i.n !!!P.M. .. u. T>11'1'V')()'m�, Genova, 1959, 25-59, p. JR. ��t')mp'1�t.l�! tn r.t')mmntnt (l�(�): l1l1f"' Of h001{ r1Vf"' A. t.r.mrortl rot:" rum�" "t�un "�tc ,T01V�l1'h. 'lr>t�.R roll tn� t imP. rh'ln.r-:r:r: thr> t 1 m"!1 · n r ·:th1Yif':�." Tn th� · 1) thr:-�" P.r.tm.sr, two of thi.s <1our�� · r,p�ce, t1.m� of time, ·h�bmrm ' afl motion and. for common .r:rourH1 ·Lncret inA 1 - \•- . -� � �nd thC' phi l.o.r.:o­ ..., The Aef!m� . ·' their youth, . . be transformed bP.h·u�en sp:r:ttially extenncd phor1cA.11y as spnce of time as sp.-"l.ce, 1;. of time "- ,., .. . ·"· depf')rHi.ence to ' .. A . of time their mn.turity and on bottle:=: 1 nto a tn motion corre!1ponot:mce motion a.nd tim0. 1 expressed. meta(cf. w�th 6, JOO-J; 11 326-?). most p.'lra­ doxlclllly from the 't>�holc of time t o the point of time, th11r: mtrrorr; thr'l �urn of thinr;£ 1 Th(>. mere_ qm1ntitative meani:n�, a ·l"Fll1f':E'!!l from infinitely r;reat to infinitely :-::mall, r:nm(>., 1� thP. in mnn.ller or 1:-trr;l')r nmo1mts of t l rr.r:-, or.thinr;s hi:\ve-their times, space l-Jhn.t 2) spn.ce rnnl"('r. from .r:rm�rfil A.s ;. ... 0 thro1ir:h ar; from quantitative to qualitative mnrm\n�: th1 nt:1'r.: h'O'!pp(-)n in time, th�ir old F.l'(e. And timP. !lccirt.ent of motion?3 f!s of t 1me accm\nt A.niJ to p'1T't1cu1A.r,. force? time ns this poetic v1.el'r of timP. nh1. en) .rtofini tion or 1 t notion 1.n 'th� conncct1 on hetw��m Nha.t thra� . d1f.ferent"mP.t:'lphors � r�lntPd -quf'stlonr.: Nil.J. . nhl?YS th� same nnd not and. th0 1..nf1.n1.te mnttcr .1nfin1.tely in motion throutr,h i'nf1 n1tc JTi'or a moT'e extensive study of the eptcurean <1oncept of time, my Diss., G. NECK, Das Problem n11r Zeit im Epikuretsmus, Heinelber�, 1 964, ch. 1, �eitbe��iff. pp._ 14-?4. r.f. · �J �� r:natHL. n Time as Gpnee-, is mor:tly conr.�1.vr!d 1r1tth how�ver, q1inltt�t1.ve n.r; well as qnn'rltitative mcan1n�. only hapr.>en in time, in smaller or lnrr:er nmmmts t.h�'>Y n.lso hAve theiJ;" times,.their and th�lr old a�c. The youth, not of timn, their maturity most strlkin� example is th(' account of the birth for this u�ar:e ' (2, 1105-6), p-rowth (2, 110.5-30, 1120-1, 1123, 112?), maturity (2, 1130), decay (2, 1131- esp. 71�, esp. l�) Th1nr:n 11'31-?, of our worl�; nl'3.tnro;.. If \'7e 111�5), and death at the end. or the (2, 1.1.50, 1166, 11()9, 11?2second book of .•ne rerum keep in mind that time had been defined ns accident. of motiot:L and that, in the expression space of timr-:, 1 t hA(1. be en substituted metaphortcally for the spnco measured th:roup;}1 by .m ot ion , .. . tative .. meanin� lienee ann . . . the coincidence of quantitative and qua1i- of time has to be understood a s between·a phase in th e but now . '" . -r :• this pha�e of the motion, expresse� as phase of the movlnr; accin.ent time for the p corres on- the mot i on of a body through space, space of time,depending on The safeguardin� a • condition body for this in motion :l.s body itself. suhs.t1tut1on of the the occurrence of' . �In thA eni curenn 1.mder-standinr; of tnfini te matt�r infini.tely in motion throup:h inf i nit e spacA, t.tme, be1.nr; an act:!id.0l'Jt of motion, 1s ::tlso inf1nit�. The p."lrarlox 11t.rhole of t ime" han to hA tF.�1u�n as a con���ston to man • s d e s i re to compreh�nd the object of his thoua;ht and �peAch (cf. my Diss., op. cit., pp� 17-lJ.O; for the t h n m e of infinity in all 1 ts differ-ent .'l.�n�cts '\ cf. R. 1-TONDOT...FO,. I�' 1.nfini to n8l pensiP.rO dell 1 nnt:ich1tA. clnssic:::t, Fi.rem>:e 1956). The other Jk'lradox "point nf. t:l ml'.'11 has to n.o with the connection of continuity and infinitP. divisibility of time (cf. my Diss., op. cit., pp. 10-20, 39-L�O; cf. J. MAtT, Zum Problem des InfinitesimaL"'n bel den antiken Atomlsten, Berlin 19.54). l �4 mot J.on lnN�: 1n accorflnncP 1'11. th fi x:eo rloceo rHct1.s, '1.i.tn quRequ0 cre_.'lta. 1'n0'l0l"f:' �tnt., 1.n eo qun.m �it nul"rll"A :n���ssnm nee vnlidnn alennt aevi·rccctnltct"c le_n;0n. v (5� 56-A, 'rh�se 1m'1s, th0 1:1t'1S Of time, of determine lie of a body f phases, within phnSP.S the in moion.t bony, at motion example time a.ppen.rs most The perception of differ natl.Jrally where o the t in connection l'TJ.th ,qt .times the hoavenly other times the time d.etermineit -by it, is seen in (�, 692; 1, 31 1 ; .5t 1183-.5). ::�b�ms from the account of orce: f 11sic The.other most striking man nnd combines all three m(,'!taphors of 1 s· c u l t :ura. l development, t ime, time as space, volvend.a a e tas commutat tempera rermn," rolling time changes the times of thinGs� The naturn.l or cnltur,:1l 1) thr�o aspects: change of things the different the nynnmic be t;r-1-spcd cau_o;ht, A.r: "rollin,:, time," in the nature of tiMe, and J) of the development phases t h ings , is cause of as different phnscs 1'volvendn n�tas, 11 chanr;e, inherent times of things." in inthc metaphor force reco!VliZerl, as 11volv(mda af!tas commuta.t tempera rcrttm," time chan,n;es the the meta- -"tlr.-tcs of thinr:s," motion of time, the • 1172 tn of the succession of the metaphor ts ''thu� 2, can "tempora. rerum," ets character motton (5, 1276; cf. determined quantitativoly and qualitatively by phor spaceof t me 'as i ?.) sp.,.ces to time a.s not only space for motion,· he motiOVl. of heavenly bOdies, t are d 1. fferent Also motion it se l f . Motion of R:nn. Of r:ometimes lietie of a movinrr body,· leads f m he t s�?.nond metaphor or t:\me, but the of natur0, 2,302) time, \'lhich·quantitatively and qualitatively dintinr;uishnhle mnke up the ent called the laws soetieFl m m cf. as '' of rollinr; This me ns that the Nhole a �5 . phcnomP.non chiln.oop, hoin�, nnn �tme irt 1. ts �rrnct, �� mirrored is f or c e thrPo n spccts: as ti�e. to bo th� one metnphor most sncms from the epicurean understanding of time Tt., nevertheless, Lucretius' "Ne then 11time, , utterly destroys, sir;ht" ( 1, 225). first, from that shows a1..ray, caused as it l'lere, as ar;e td thdraNs them from our (2,69�70} a:nd "if time q·notes Chant:,e appears to be pe�ceive all th1.nr,s flat� it takes accidr-mt of motion. inherent in thln.rr.s and c.'J.used hy the force o� lnn� lRnse of time, a�e, As remote the one which occurs most frequently in "De rerum natura." both by forces time: is mone of �aur:n, 11a�e, in seems to effect throup.;h a.�e" • in the st{';ht" whatsoever, throut;h The con)parison of th� two the lon� lapse chanrr,e of t ime11 , in thin:';s. 'f'hP space of tirrie wh ich has to be measured throw;h by thir.r;s subject to chan�e is �onceived as having chAnging influence on them: omnta enim debet, mortal! corpore quaA sunt, tnflnita aetas consumpse ante acta dicsque. quon si in eo �patio atque ante a�ta netate fuere e qutbus haec rerum consistit.snmma refectn, 1.mrnortali sunt n atu ra praedita certe. (1, 2J2-6; cf. 551-64) This po�erful influerice, �ometimes called "the forces of rneA.s1a"eless time" ( 5, 377-9), irnnf-l�t on thin�s, as also as R. particular time as "ante force of time, to ls not only seen as a r;enerc:tl 11infinita aetas," as impact, in successive ,.;raspable "infinite time," acta dies,''" as "the r;one by da:,r. 11 but moments of The destructive appears t o be so st ron � that th in �s are imagi neo suffer under· the "torments o f ·time": Denique non lapides quoque vincl cernis ab aevo, non altas turris ruere et put e j cer e saxa, r �OP.lHhl":t nP.Hm �imu}:l.Cl":lf}ll�- fA:=:8:::t fntj :1Ci nrotollP.l"e firiis por-:t-:e nnqu0 a(lverims natur.'lP. foeclP.l".'l· nit1? c'l0'111.Clu,.. non monimenta virum rliln:rsa. vi<icmu�, (quaerP.re pronorro, s ihi cumque scnescere credas, non ruere avolr,o� silices a montibus altis nee va.l ioas aevi v ires perferre p!l t iq1te fini ti ? ncqw:- enim cn.d.erent avolsa repente, ex inf1n1to quae tempore pertolerassent omnia tormenta aeta.tis, privata fra�ore. . . - nrm ._ �Ac sRnctum numen fati : ) ( 5, )06•17) l'f'lhe force. of rollinp.;- time chang1rp::· the. times of thinp;s . ( _t;, 1 ?7i1) is finRlly spoken -of as chan�inp; the nature of the WOl"lC'l: 1"111tnt . en1.rn munni nc'lt1.1ram tot ius aetas .• ex nliC''lH� nl.ius status exci.pore 0mni11 c'l.eb0t omnir-t mi�rant, nee ma-n c t nlla sui sim\.lis rAs: omnln commut::tt natura 8t vertere �Or,'it. n�mque a1iun. rmtrcsc it et n evo nobile lal'l,cr,net, norro al1un (sue) crescit et (P.) contempti�'o exit. �tc lt";'i tur muncH naturam tot ius n.et�s mut � t , et ex aliO terrnm s tatu s CXCipit altAr, quod potu it nequeat, posstt quod non tulit nntc. (5, 82A-36) II: In · · ·· . order to 1) Devel opment clarify the con·nection beb1een the thr�e different metaphors. of time' ann discover tht� �om­ 2) mon r:round for the poetic view of time and the philosophinnl �efinition of it , we will have to consider the relation of t ime to nature , the key · te rm in Lucr et i us ' "De rerum natura." Inextricably connected with change of thin�s, ti�� .1n motion of time throur:h· s lite or a_p;ainst n.nture ( 2, space 297-307; of thin.�;s, whether �rm.,.th or decay, both: t i me and nature: .• force of of time cannot act out­ cf. 5, )06-10). - · occurs under the Chanr:e laws of �7 rloc�o diet i n, quo '1Ut'li1C1U0 cre�.tn sint, in eo qunm sit r h r rr.t re n�n/3ssum nee val1das valeant nevi rescindere lP.�en. foec h'!rA · (5, 56-8; cf. 2, )02) Hhnt.rloes it mean to speak of time, ch�n�in� the nrltur� of the whole world., of time, chanp:inp: :8ptcurus, anct to . 1-torld of nature, darinr; to rr,o heyond break open to be, what c om e thinr:s, all t.he nature of the whole world (1, l,f..-77), cttme h::tck Crln �lterinr:, the· t ir;ht locks of the r;n. t e n out of bei.nr:, of victoriously Nith th� kno'tiTlP.nr:e of cannot, . finally how each thine has totality of be in� and non-beinc.;, f';'Oinr; (5, 828-36)? the flam inc; Nails of the . pm1er c:lefined and. it s deep-set boundary mnrk." .the n..rr:.�in, and, rm.tur-e 11\•rhn.t it:::: �ratnr�,5 ns of comin� into bein�, is matter in motion throur;h SIJc'lCe 21), which hrinr.; s forth hirth ann death ( 1, hl9-· of thin,o;s: .. . Nnn� nr,-e 1 quo motu ,cr,enitalia m:1teriaL corporA. r�r: vt:t.roiaf: P:1 ,ry.ant: f:eni tnr:qne resol vnnt 0t f111:1. vi facerc id �op:anh1r r.tt ol_l i s r���ibi mobilitFt� map.-nnn per in::l'Y'\h rrten.nd1. • PX'f'Ptliam: tu te nJr.t1.r: prn.ehr.rp mP.m""nto. n::tm r.r>rte non 1nt�r :1e �t l rn.tn r.0hn�1"et T:'l."'lh')riP.s, q110n1Am mlnnt rP.m q,,·:rnq'lf" v1t1P.mns 1 f't. f11Jfi.Rl lonr:inqvo fln�r"' OIT!nir-1 CP.rni!T!\1� n.r>vo P.X CUlisquf' Vetl.lStr-ttP.!Tl �ubti,_lCPT'e Tl0'itr1.� 1 r.nrr t��P.'Y'\ 1.ncolumts vtt10.atur spmmn. mn,,er0 l"):r-')nt,.,.,..oa qn 1.8, quae �.ecedunt cor1)or� en jrpH� 1 ,, ..... ,c r�.br.nnt Mi nnnnt, ·CP.l,., veY!er� :111ro:n:l TIP t'!onn�t. 11.1.., ��:rv��f'.�rP J A.t fl1'1rf'C'f'cn.,.,. co�mt, ,.,�r. l"P'110rnntur ibi. slc r e rn M �nnm�. novntm-­ quilf'qur> O haP� co'Yltrn 1 ntPr �e m0rt<=�.les Mlltn:=� \·i.vFnt. i. r�.e ��ntes, n 1 iae m1 n'.ll1Yl b.J r • j "11jll0 hrovi. rmnt io mutnntur s��cl.n a rd. nnntl :rr: ,..t 111l�.st cnrsores vita.P. 1c=tmpnnn. tr::�r'!,1r1t-.. . �..-�mn,.,,.., "� et , , r�P :-:c11n t a1 (?, �?-70) 0n t"lc hn.�is of thls creattve. . and n.ostructive form�, . �nd nr:1t11r0. ('P0"' n �"'0mn.,..,...henr:i.vP. stuny of the 00!1C'f'nt nf ,,...,t:n:rn. 111 V1��nt.i11!i 1 "D') rcrnm nn.t.J,r-r-�:,11 �f. Y . • sllj,L'!"'/'.�PT, St-.�1dirm ::":1Jr.1 nl-. � 1 1'1ronh l �r.h�n N� tnrhen-,:ri ff der P.grner- rni t hC!r>onderr.r I> h � Pf."!T"l�lrr:i.chtlr:un� (ler, T.ukrez, Archiv fur Re�ifff1f;€'!SchichtP., 7, 1Q(?, 140-284 �H thi� llf.. .. 1mr:rr t:>��'ion m L n;h t he, of tho truth thnt, nn.tltrr- only expl io:ttcs th0 hi flo on oh�rr-:��­ t0r'i�ttr.� of mAtter. hnNe,r'"'r, Lucr�tiw� nev0r tire� of rr:-m1rHnn.•--: tn rl�fin.i te or "n:"lrt� f'l.�blr'�e," ··Matter in m ot inn thl"Ollrrh �p1r.� wnys "p::tcts of r,rooNth llnr'l ·decay t a resul f:s, fact whi0h or nf!.turc": .I"J. U.'l !'r'onter quo nun� in motu r>rtn�i pi(lrum onrpora ::;1_mt, in eodem ante a�tn aetntr· fuere r--t nm:t hn.l"'c n0mper stmtli ration" fP'Y'rntur pf: qn!:i� �onsuerint r:1r;n1 ..;ir;nenh1r er'!nf'm r.onr'licione et erurtt et cret.:c.ent: vlr:tuo vGlohunt, qnn.nt11m cuique datum est per focclera :nnturni. ( 2. 297-302) 't'hP. _pr"oblcmatic w::ty" and t1,e er of expressions "such .·things as have been wont be bron.�ht that· c ha ra ct to birth under "honds of experi.mentation of nature" likn to "in a come to the same condition" similar being, ind.icates, will hO\ITcver, provid.e no More than a 'framework for matter in m ot i on . through spa.ce: cert e neque consilio primordia rerum , oroine se r.uo quaequ� sa�n�i mente 1ocarunt · rH',� quos lJ..ltA.P.qne (darf:mt rnotvs pepir:ere profecto) sP.d quia mnlta modis muJ.tts mutn.t<:!. pe� omne �x i11fini to v�xa.ntur -perci ta plne;is, onme C'l'enu.s JT!otus et coetus exncri11nd.o tannem del.reniunt in tal:l.s c:UspositurR.f.:, qualibus haec rerum consistit summa creatn, et mn l t os etiam magnos servata per. :-:tnnor'lt F:0.mel in motus coniectast convl':'_ntf?ntls' J . effictt ut largis . avidum mare fluminis tmn 1 s. . . . (1, 102i- :n; of. 5, nam · �·lhat can be the too faulty t o criterion for abl� to in a "convenient mov�ments" world be crea ted. by r;ods (5, 1B7-2J4) and continually P-nrrar:ed in a l'lar' between r0neated ln_6,1�2) l ife and death The ( 2, 569-80)? example o� nat ure trying (5, 837-924), but bei�� nn­ cre at e monsters (1, 199-2QL�; -2, 700-29) suggests "conVP-l"lient movements" . must mean stability of growth, that . maturity �9 n.n� �r-�r1.y. '•rhat. The formuln for nn.tnro: not, c:::m finR.11y how ann it� <'!cep.;..Get boundary thf> account of "certain matter," 1 nto be1 nr: and. n:oint'; 214-). out of 1s �1ost. compactly. it motus, ordo, cnch thi nr: hns mark'' positura, position and shapes of is explicaten ln "certain times" as as matter" (2, realfty min� uncovers Olll"' in ve ·the "meetinp:s, 1020-2; cf. 1, ordr=>r, 675-8}. process The of rr;co(�- our Bf')nr.c-s of motion and ref:t of thinr;s; · this rP.'1] i ty, ntoms censr;J.ess1y as as deceptive appearance, an� e�tahlishing the conditions venien.t · motions, simple stability: The true res t however, motion. ( 1, 159- "materia! concursus, orn0r of these terms follows the ord.er of tho -ncr�ci to bn, responsible for thinr:s cominr. stated nition from complex mobility to r.rmn its pm-11er dnfinl"!d (1, 75-7) beinf: at fi�;ttrae," cnn 11Nhnt underlyin� that restlesGness for the achievement of "con- movements" is to be found in the "shBpe" of atoms. That "shape" of atoms bears special importanne for the ::nnture of thinp; can be a seen from 1 ts central the hook about motion and rest: motirm and. rest in trc:1.tm0.nt terms of turn p:ivcs Nay to in atom� body and minc'l { 2, a 11 shape" 730-1361-J., 856-990). of atoms nyi:n.r; 1").-"J.l rs (21 but noN not (motion ann. rme bP-in� "shape" (2, 6?.-JJ?) leacln ( 2, 333-729), Hhich • • ln tei'ms of atoms, COrro"'!SpOndil1[': but, in terms of compounds, 991-117L�) a po::;iti·t,rc The Fir.ale describes the ::urn 1 n the three main pa rt s Of the bOOl< 1 tothA Pl"'ooemium, n nn (2, 1-61), ne.1;ative treatment of colour and fcclin/3' of t'-lin,r,;r, in motion and rest, rl.�. After the Prooemi mn about of motion and rest in termr: of a.to�s over into the dJ r;cussion of in position in boo k t\.'10, of worlds bcin0 born Thus, hool< hro s hol'l s rest), gronped. around • of atoms, a one a syr:1mctry of {rest): the the pairs b ei n� motion and r e s t in �10 terms of compounds b1. ro�t: th e in terms of atoms· in the first and_ The special importance of book. ·nature Prooemtuni nnd Ffria le, birth �escrintion of the · third shape of of a thing is shown in a·quote and mot.i.on :md mr-:tin part::; of ofatoms forth� book five, from thn bur world: of �"d·nova temnost:1.s '}naedam mol�sque coorta. d 1 ff,t("ere inde lo�i partes coepcre :nnr·esqun '"�tlm nnri bus ·hmf""i r ' e s l":t cliscludere muYlnmn mr.mhrnl']ue divldere magna s disponerc pnrtes. omnir;enis e.'prlncipiis, discordia qnorum lntr.rvalla vias conc xu s poniiera. plap;as r.oncursus ·motus ia mfsc�ns propter d.lssimilis formas varin�qne fir;urns, quod non omnia sic· potcrant �onhmct�- rn::mere nee motus inter sese dare convenir.ntiG, ... -· r:!f. · 9t · tnrha.bat proel · (5, 4J6-h5; . Diffnrently from platonic or aristotelian Nhr.rc shape for- .q, < ELcfos thin,;, "mnt0:ri.a:t ln the concur,,�, >J/IX. � li ' (.. .· J Or I motui, ordo; The inquiry of Lucretius• shape ()� or a.ll the factor:-;, positura, fic;urnc," their p.:'l.rt in determininr.; ·the appearance III. uiace thour,h, mcn:r.c f'-Oe 'f ?') ) cpiCUI'(!rtfl contPxt, Lnt1-lt-2) of a plny thin�. Recapitutation into the· mean in� "De rerum natura", of "nature," the key t��=r aim�d at clarifying th� r0ln­ tion of nature and time, and consequently the relation of the philosophtcR-1 definitlon. and the poetic met11_phorn of tim0. The relation of nature and time be com e s espe�ially poi�­ n.'lnt in a passar,e from book o:r: e, i>Thcre both con�epts, tim� and nature, are. coupled into one: . Postremo quae cumque dies naturaque rebus paulatim tribuit moderatim crescere cogens, �l1 ocu l o ru m a c i e r. c ont r:;n t a t u 0 r1. , porro qune . cumqn e a evo mA. c i equ 0 r; �;1 r:. s cunt ; n e e , m:lre qu� e impend ent , v e r: c o s ::rl 0 saxa p� r c s a qn :t t:l C'pl oqu e a m t t t:1nt i n tempore c crnc r c po s s i s , c orpor i bu s cne cis i r; i tur natur.:1 p;er i.t r e s . ( 1 , 322-8 ; c f . 628- )1�) · m 1 l ln !)o t e c t nee · · If ment , at c on s i de r s ; one " �rhat ever be,T, inn i n s and end of th i s first , day and na t ur e adds i s r � s tated in · 11 by bod i e s ( cf . 2 , 127..;:B ; 129 ; · 132 -llH ) . nat nrc " r o rcc , t o t h i n ,n; s . Th€7 double forc c; " natu re , 11 us '' boi! i e s uns e en , '' · in ord e r t o effect t i me ••. · and " thr ough pre s en t s " n a;r and inr: the o t h e r C hanr_�e of chanrr,e . t ime ::mn_ o c cay , " " D ay , both f rom l'li th i n and from '\'T i t h out . ccmt " clay and nature , " l it t le by l i t t l e " un s e en t h en natt.1 re t reat s t h i n rr,f-l " c orres pond s t o one force , th in r:Y.s occurs " in i t s elf 11 n�.ture , s ince it is ch ang e the of be f o!' e " nature , appearances us r e f l e ct about the permanen c e of be inr;·. impiyinr: a s ma l l , un i t of t ime , o c curs in sma l l · s t eps , sum of t h in�s . by t h e in ' th� s u m of t h inr;s , s c;:�. l e is of nature , erni.nr� t he world , th� world , a n a c c lc'l. e nt t o the t h e same truth : defineo di es , 11 i s h e ld of the in ba lanc e re f l e c t inr.: chanr;e w i t h ­ As such , creat lve and d e s truc t ive powe r , law s of therefore , " the part s o f mot i on . grm'lt h and d e cay , der ived from t h e movement s " rh1.;r ann. nature , " the forc e ' it s inc e nature c ompreh enn s the Nhole the. of me�nings from T i me , s in c e chanr;e of th ines cont in1,1al l y a l t e ri n g laws o f nature . c on- The t erm " d:1y , " The sum of . things , h owever , permanent i s P.n �. c c i d�nt o f t h e fac t that 11 1 :::; , wh i ch make s quant itat i ve ly and. qua l i tat i v e ly rem incl s us t h at in the double l t i s t he force o f t ime wh i ch make s u s r e f l e c t about of � t , te­ of at om s . repre s ent s " day , 11 s tand :J two gov­ d e t er m t n inrr, u n i e s natura qu e , a s pe c t s o f' one and f or the changeable a spe ct �12 of appearan c e s , · the m ea su rahl e actual i zat.ion of · in fin.i te . . · m:'l. t t � r in i n f i n t t e mot on throt�eh inf ini t e s p. � ; 'lc i " n:itnre , " · fj rm laNs infin i t e s tands. for the un ch�n�eable a spect nat1i ra : " be i n r; t , he i s pace . 6 three a spec t s The three met aphors - of t im e : of nat ure : i :n t er�hAn,�l'!ab i l i An� Rcc 1.1lcnt , cnrno� wt th �Y mat t·e r , between explA ins mot i on , of corre s pond t o the - The and s p.-=tc e . natur e and t ime , chnn�e than w1 th pcrmnn�nce , · · cay and deat h , _ force betwenn suhs tanc� i t s e l f throu �h mnn 1 s bP. 1 nr: mor� t irne , than with nature with " of in f i n te mat te}" in in f in i te mot t on throu�h mot i on of t ime • and r:: pa. ce of · tlme , t i me , of . . m,orc and thA-refore S i m i larly , ·_ b i rth ann con - r;r owt h , de­ a r e not pre s ented equa l ly und er . the influen c e o f nature and t ime , but bi rth and growth more under t h e 1. n­ f1uence of nature , of time . its with de cay and neat h more unde r- the influenoe · Once 1 1. f e . has be� , man s eems to be m o s t c oncerned ·mean in·r.:ful compl e t ion and therefore with t ime effe c t in, chan e t oward s ·that end. . � The, re lat i on of t i m e and nature , ph i cal poem , t erms , can be gra sped in Lucret i u s • ph i l os o­ :ln . another c omparabl e pa i r of in the re l at i on of . 11 fortune " · and 11 nature . • · Subs equent �A'qX , i.n h i s n i ss .. , D tfferen ?. . fl.er d emol � r 1. t l s c h<"n u n d 1..., , "� 1 � ch cm N�t,.tr.nh i l o s onh t � ( M�rrA 1 , 1 , F'ran trf'prt · a . M . 1 0 -:::! 7 ,- 1 ..:.. ')? ) , T"!1 t. h �r. htwi l 1 innt:1y port. .,..a .y� th i � � nnn0c t 1 o"' of "1 � t1 l r'0 rmrl t 1 mP. : 11 n t e � l l S:\J"11 � fY!1fH� i: ?. tl'Ylf': . i st 0 ie hl n � � ;'1., :"' � 1 ,,.rT.'o"T"' . ii t:"-r Jl':r:ml<'ret �n 1Tatm · • -· di e Z ei t ihre ald:u o � e Fo'Y"m Di � ": 0 1 t r'f...... rr:� f";�n i st. n a s Fen·� r r'f e s He r: rms , n�f' i U e F.rsche innn.� 0•·r i � VPl"� ehr-t un� i h r n 0n S tenmel iter Abhti.n n:j ":k8 i t tmd H e ­ · � 0"1 l0 si l!k�i t aufclr1'fckt . 11 ( n:o . · 1�2- 3 ) tti\R:X i n · c �ptn re of th o; 0 r- � t'l!n t: l ."l.l:1 ; thou�h , lacks s upnort from \<Tork l:�r: l·Ti th t: h e t. P. xt s N"'l i r. l't Nnn l n. h ave prev!"lnten h i m from i d cnt i fy1 np: 'Rp i cnru n 1 '1 nd L1 1 �r,.t:l n s ' . not i on of time , ann led h i m t o i" oticP. t he , · crHci n l c o -0:v:t st�nce o f n.e f ini t i on and metaph qrs of t i me i n Lucrct t u s > t-rorl-:- . 4v . en� • • • · • • �RR the �overn in� ( 5 , 77 ) , t h �n f i r r-: t na t u r e rp t o t e � dl"'� cr ihe , T he � on t e xt , world . an t h:'\t prov i o e s fortune " : nnture det erm tne s S i m i ln.rly � the � l �nr it t h e een err.t.l laws · of the No.rln , po s s ibl e w i th i n t h o s e relat i on of nature and. t i me , aml r�.c c i n ent , was s h own t o c on s i s t i n the re l ::tt . 1 on of t hrou Fr,h The conn ect i on bctl·reen the t h re e of na tu r e , pe ct s behmen d ence forc e , fo!'ce the unde!" the expl icat es r;round for a.e f i n i t i on , metaphors of three under . the is t i me R S f orce , ln mot i on of . t i Me fo� there f ore , . bec omes t h e key the three of mat t e r , m on t ime . of the i ndi c at e s pa i r s aspect . of nature , a s pe c t of mat, e r , t t ime , the spe c lal chan{!e<'lble . a nd t he common m o t i on , and of � groun space , t i me of The fa ct t hrt t a s t im e expl i c,a t e s na t u r e the po e t i c viel-t c orre s pon­ impo rt anc e of the pe r�anent , the , is the c om­ and i t s ph i lo s oph i cal . for the m e taph o r i c a l use and as­ conne ct i on · one t o one The t ime . · mnt' t � r· and f o r c e of t i me l:nm . of sub s tan c e in m o t i on throur;h space space h1.t t to nnt11ri"'l , framework for " �ovcrn i n � the only t h e part i cular move s , f ortur P. ��k c � however , equa} n o r r i va l forc e thr:� t; f ortune is n f) i t h c r " �overnin� nnt u re " fortun� ( 5 , J O? ) , de f in i t i on as its of ac c i ­ den t o f mot i on . 'T"hP-mA , Dev e l opment , ann. .to lm� erRt:=m rl h ow t tme , ac c i d ent , �"11 th l'l � tnre , of t h e world , th� �s th8 subs tance be c omn s d oe s not , h m'l�ver , vThi ch th i. s subs t i tut i on takes place , c on � i n �rtn.�T, the d e p�l"ln en c e s e c on d. aspect mean to e s R::ty t r i. ed intt"?. rchnnr:eab l c �1.1h s t i tu t i on of th e o.ef i n it i on by m e·taphors 1 m n ers tanrl " h ow " its of th i s Recapi tulat i on also of e n ta i l e d t ime . under stand To 11 Nh�.r " a que s t i on t o be ansi'mred by of Lu c re t i u s on human percept i on . 1 d e f i n i t i on of t ime , �r u m�>�t of T.l l �rr.t 1 u s ' f1 P.f 1 n l t i on "''-1 n f i r r. t ��n�n� Pn c P on mot t on ami r� r: t Ntl f.l t l r:'l'� ' r. of t h j nt,_;!C : t. � mpns i t �m p�r ::: 0. n on � s t , r. r n rP.hu n ah i p� :t � c nn r: � q, t i tiu• s �'l"l stt s , trrmsac t n m qq i.� s i t i n :v: v o , tnm q1 1ae ros 1 nf1 t �t , 'l.U io. porro n P- lnn c r-:cqu-:1. tu r ; n r- c !)�r s e quer!'iquam · tempus s r-mt l rc · fl'lt endum s t � em otum ab rerum motu plac id.aque qu i At P. . · - 'T'he S t:! c on d as pe ct . ( 1 , h.59 - fl ) } t i me ' s d�pe!lden c e on hum�n pr:!rcept i on , imnl t e s both man ' s awarene s s and. man ' s- ""v�lua t i on of t t rne . M::l.n 1 s of t i me , . com inP-: ::\Narfm� s s � t �mr-: . from hetl'leen rea lms i s iTIA.n 1 s d1 f ferent 1 · , 1 0 08;,.9 ; 2 , '3 07 ) , (5, R2B - J 6 ) ,· and t'lrilln� TT1 0 re - th rough { 2 , 5fl9 - 8 0 ) , i s n e::t th a lways h�mG\n nnt u r � . t ou�h c on­ � of t i m e , wh r! t h e r 7. c on s tant cyc l e of the ( 2 , JOJ , lt fe and �:'!me and always not the wh ere deve lopment R ame in time eventual l y mean s t i me s e ems t o he c om e more a nrl the more . one m oves from t h e part s t o thq 8 ?r. f . P . n�JA. GY , Proc c R s ann Value : rr � Ph " , A A , 1957 , l�L�-2t1 . 0 , " , where the, sum .. of .thinp.:s the back t o the he r;inninp; , ne_p;l i ,cr.ibl e , l•Th o l e . wh o l e the s e tlfro , evaluat i on · nature or human nature · t s · concernen . · , - · 1\fi t h in nat u rP , :1s a trwm s e l V P- � well a s · t h i nrrs of th in�s of nature n s 'T'hP. rPa s on for d i s t fngu i s h inp; "'V>. c tert , from · 11 t h in�s An epi cur0an d i l emma , J,�OP.'\ RDI , TJA. p: ine R t ra , 11 . 292-? : " c o s i 0 () 1 1 1 -u omo i l"l"l"' fl. l""::l. , e d P. l l 1 etad:t ch 1 e i ch lnma ant i ch e , e fiel seguir che f�.YJ.V1.o f! r.mo r;l i avi 1 ne not i , sta n11tura oenor vert:'te , anz l p�occ n � p�r s i lun�o cammino , che s emhrn a tar " . cf . S . BORRA , � n1 r i t i e f orme affini in Luc rez i o e Leopa rd i � Bol ogna , · ·r f . 19 )4 . 11 . ' 1 �1.·ii t.h :l t1 t. h n At c on t � xt of nn.tur� : qun r. i · 1. nn � :l.nqn o · f 1 u e r e omn i !"t �ern t mu r. n.ev o o�•J l i s qn c v e t u s t a t e rr. subd u c t:: re n o r. t r i s . c1 i in tnmen incolum i s v i dr"at 1 1 r s u r'Hna man e re pronte :rr-m qu i a , qw1e d e c� rl u n t cor�or!:l cn l qu e , 1 mn i-1 n h0.1 m t m innunt , quo vennre anr:m i n e (lon�nt . · i l lr:t r-; en e- s c ore , at ha e c c on t rn. flor� r: c e r e cor,unt , n.ric remoran t i t r i b l ; s i c r e rum summa novatur s emper , et . . i n t er se mo rta l e s mu tu� v i �Jnt . m.t r;e s cnn t a l i a e p:ent e s , al i ae m i nuun t u r , i nrtu n brevi s pnt i o mut an tu r n r-� e c l a rm i mnntum et q11a s i cu r s o r e s v i t a l 1ampaci::.t t rnd unt . ex · ( � , 69 -79 ; Th i s i na t ff erence · df 'tlme and. nature , man c ont ent of l i fe , .of . 1 1. fe : cf . w i t h re s pe c t ) , 9 71 ) t o any hu­ move s man t o re s i s t nature for the sake 9 Qu od ( s i i am rerum i F.;n orem pr i mord i a quae s int , h oc tame,., ex i ns i s ca e l i rat i on i bu s rm s l m conf i rmare a l i i sque e x rebus redCi e re mn l t i s , nflCJl l P. quam nob i s ci i v i n i tn s e s s e r.mratam t ant a s tat prae d i ta cu l pa . na t u rn m rerum : pr inc i ni o qw = tn t u m cae l i t e ,:;i t i mnetus i np;en s , inn � av i d a m JX rtcm mont e s s i lvneque ferarum 'l :r}o ss fl dere , t �nent rU TIA S · va s t :18qu e palude s et mar0 , quon l �t e t err�rum cl l. s t :i. net orn s . 1 n c'i n n u :1. s porro nrope pn rt i s - fArv i 0 u s nrd or n.c'i s i nuus que r:e l i casus morta l i hu s a u f e rt . quod super e s t :=t.rv i , tamen id na tnra sua · v i s ent i.bus obducat , n i v l s . humana rc s i s tat vi t n i cau sa. va l id ·o c onsue.t a b i nenti in�emere et- t e rram pre s s i s pro s c ind ere rtra t r i s . . ) ·. ( 5 :; The d i f f e r ence betwe en the de s cript i on of cry i np.: in 1 t s he l ple s sne s s la.r�e ly t a ken care mAan (5, of by na t u re re s i �at i on be fore nat ure f o r ilevel opment . t o �ff l rm .. • . . : 222-7 ) , , 195- 109 ) the newborn c h i ld , and t he youn� ani mR �_ s , hers e l f ( 5 , 2 2 8-34 ) , does not but rec ov1i t i on of t he ne�d i n t h e ca ? e of man : " One s o small are t he trace s .. th int; I fe e l abl e of nature left , wh i ch 9"'or a more extens i v e s tudy of the e p i curean v i eN of man t s e xne r i ence of t ime , cf . my D i s s . , op . c i t . , ch . 3 , Z e i t e r. fahrun� , pp . 140-9 . �t rr>rt. � n..,., �on J r! n ot di�pe l for u n , f"rom l i v 1 n o: m !'l.n a th�t. n ot h tnr; n tn t'J �rs l i fe l•rorthy of �od � " { J , 3 19-22 ) . t o ov e rc ome . tbe 1.no i ff e rence of on� 1 man 1 s � · the l i. fP.t ime , t n :-r l.t: of" t hourrh r e. latcrl , rorm s : detachment from t �mpor3.l th ings t•ri th in h i s ol'm o t h er man 1 i f� by s e e int-:. h i ms elf of h i r- 01'1!1 nat ure IT'-'ln . Th i s · t i me nnd nn.t u re , l'T i t h . takes on two , t o human- l i fe , r � � pP.ct 1H l a. � 1 s o.vP.rconi inr: t hP. t f'mpora l i ty of h t s as p.: rt or mn.!lk ind , a11n. the o evcl opm0.nt "l fi vP of " ne rernm · of part of th e d evel opment of the natur� _d e s cript i on of the dev e l opment . o f Lu cre t iu s ' n P. t u ra " c omr>l t cat ed. s tate � �nt of . m·m end s Joti t h ( 5 , 92.5-lh57 ) , th� man , a in bo 9� rather 'princj.:Ole� nf chrmee : 1 0 . . . c t i mpin;rn.e s i mu l e xperiP.n t i n m ent. 1 :=: 'f'rt.n lrl t 1 m docu i t p�o .e t empt i m :prC"'jl"efJ :\. P.nt t r.-; . s i c nnnm · qu i cqu i ft paula t im prot. r:1 h i t rat i oque in lu m ini s eri;'3i t ora � ; , , r;u s n.P.tl'l.s in : mcd.ium . . 1\ r:- rt. f 1. r R t . . qu ote from book fou r shm·rs . ..-. 1.mpP. J.1. inr: force . t ol'mrd-s h"! t:11 � � f'r u': e 'of both , Rlt.l , R J)2 ) . . ( 5 , 1 1-1-52 -.5 ) ('4., 822-5-? L pro�r.r"' B S , " u s �J s " , " pr::J.ct i c e " mer-t n s �ot i on and !'"--'-'!. �t t on 1-t- , R ) l , R 3 5 , ( cf . " i mni r;rn� e x:nnri ent i a nent l s " � im:l. lnrly , th� rn e n 11 � : �·: . t: '1 Yl c � of h.n man rea s on - in the pro cP � t: o f ch�n.� e . 1 h 1 o r of t h i A s t n.tcment t h � r i. r !1 t t\·10 l i n e s : -� ,.,n " , !l.r� " aeta s " and re p�nt " r�t 1 o " , " reas on " the p:J tt ern o f " t ime " ana coupleO. .a s . f orc c � t m;1ard s pro�:re s s , nJ. n c � of · " p:l'a.ct i �c , " 1 0 ::-' or of prin c i.pl 0 s Th e las t t'·ro in t h e place of " t j me " " r�n­ i n thr! " the experien c e more ext ens ivP s twly o f the eni eurcan unfl crs tann 1 n f" of '· ' t i m e :1. !1 f orce of o.eve l opmcnt , iri .natuPo - or h i s t ory ., c f � . my f) f � s- � , op . c it . , ch . 2 , Z e i t funkt i on , pp . 75-139 . n. �' I' of t!-1 � c."'l. r;rn"' m inr! . " " rr-� l � f:' S u p , " s upp l an t , t h e ore t i. �.'!:\ 1 verb , Two prr:I c t i cn. J. v e rh s , in the " t au �ht , 11 las t nu t 11 l ines , th e two " b ri n?.: r: m o re f i rs t f r om the t No l i n e s , r�.nd and thw :; e ffe c t · A balance _o f the ory and pra c t i c e in b o t h prirt � . ThP. c omna r i s on b e t l>re e n t h e t wo t h e i n t e rc hn.n ge ­ part s nhl l i t y between na t u r e and. t i me � P�t , d i s m1 s s ed �a�l i er · of t h e deve l opment of l•rh 1 ch is s e en , human nature , onc e unde r the H e re , t o t h e role of t i m e , inf lu ence nnrsues of change , of hum9:n a ct i on has an ad ned i n i t i at ive t h e worln lies i n the c on t e xt the p r o c e s s human m ind or human re::1 s on . the l'TOrld of nature and s on • be tween sub s t an c e anfl a c c i ­ ( 5 , 828-36 ) . 1 mrler the i n f lu ence of t ime , ca s e s : , r e ca l l s , one� in b o t h The d i ffe ren ce be tween of human nature , wi t h re s p e c t in that man , on a c c ount of h i s rea- end. s and make s c h o t c e s wi t h a v i m'l to ends : s i c v o lvend.a aetas commv tat t e mnora rer,l m . in pr et i o , f i t nul l o d.eni.qu e honore ; "90rro a l iud s u c c ed i t e t ( e ) cont empt 1 bu s e x it inque (U e s maf;i s adpe t i tur f l oretque repertum laud ibus et m i ro e s t mort al i s int er h onore . ( 5 ' 1276-8 0 ) f'l1 1 od fu i t I n a d d i t i on t o the blind mechani sm of atoms , wh i ch , realm of natur e , effect s change , The the s tA.tement of princ i p l e s , n ev e l opment , u s u s et end.s in the man ' s cho i c e , e xpre s s ed in appre c iat i on or c ontempt , ' be c ome s mP.l"l t . . rnain fac tor of develo!l­ i n the d e s c r ipt i on of rJ:::-.n 1 s with a ra t h e r amb t r:u ou s c l i max : imni grae s irnu l e xperi ent in ment i s p8_,, lat im doCl.l i t pe<'ietempt i m proF;re d i ent i s . s i c unum qu i cqu id. priu l at im protrah j t aeta s in m e d i u m rat i oque in lum in i s e r i. �i t ora s ; nrtmque a l id e x a l i o c lare s c e re cord e v i debant , a. r t i bu s a.d s u m mum don e e venere cacumen . ( 5 , 1452-7 ) The d i ff i cu l t y of h ow to int erpret t l v e ly , a s hi s t or i cal ful f ilment of 11 cacumen11 , t he e i t h e r pos i ­ m deve lop ent o f human �lA nature ( cf . J , 3 1 9 - ?. 2) , or ne�n t lvn ly , as noint b �twAen p.;rowt h anit decay • . natural tu rn i nr.: inrt i c at e s the ii i fferenc� in evaluat i on of t i m e , wh ethe r nature as a wh ole , wi thin natur� iR concerned . nature t i on of a r;:tther lat e stage in the t n�r l l i c l i fe . ( 5 , 1 379- 1415 ) , t i on s from the d e s cript ion 1 1 fe The fact tha t ( 2 , 1 -hl ) '· surr.�ests development or hum;1n .thf) des crip­ of man , . th� contai n s word for �orord rep� t i ­ of the ep! curel\11. att i tu d e t ol-mrd s how important t i me and · h i s t o r i ca l o eve lopment of. hu mnn nat ure are for th� . ach i evP.ment of t h e T h e - wi s dom , h i c!:he � t · w1srl.om . acqui red ove r a lon� s pac e of time , from pr1m1 t i ve man t o �pi curu n ( .5 , t o cons i s t in a more and. natu re and. human na t ur e cosmns , as world , la'<T nnd randomnes s . �rtf.lbles him 1 1-fA " w i th in nature : int e l l i p: i ble Rhown as With the pas sin!'_; of chaoti c environment , bu t in c au s e ::: ann eff e c t s , in Man 1 s experience w i t h nat u re not only to cont rol ann ( cf . 5 , 19 5-234 ) , but �t !!tnff inl': of h imself and on h i s cont rol is more art i ctJlat e un<'l erf}t;andinp; of t im e , nature appears not any more A.s 92 5-:-1L�57) � change na tu r e " for the sn ke of. als o re f l e c t s btick on h :\. s unn er­ h i s rel::tt l on to other men , that t s , a.nn chan�e of human nnt u re . wi t h in nn.ture . ll . .. . . . r. ontr-ol �n� chnn o:-e of nat 1 1 re an, human natur� l'li t h 'i :n nA.tl l re 1 � � · h ol'r�v�r- , not thP. �a.m0. tl s t}le mnre. rnon ern. 11 0.on'}u e s t o r n nt:m"e 11 • � onqu 0 s t of :n.1lb.tl)'e , a s , for i n r.: tnnc e , P . B�.�o:n en.­ vi � i ons i t , . � �pe!1.fk:: on the 11 closer and purer l e�r:ue betHP en th e s r:> tNo f:=tcu lt.i� s , the �x-perl ment�.l 11nn the ra t. i o:nn.l ( �nch rH" h�.s r.. � ver- ye t ber-m mn.cte ' � ( Nov . Orp; . ,, . 1 , !\ph . 9 5 ) ; " For thP m"'.t t. Ar i:n hn-no. l s no m(!re . f� l :t c i ty of f:: peou l r-1 t t on ; hnt t.,P r"I"}A 1 hn s i r.. � � � o:n o fortunes · of the hvmA.n ra ce , Rnt1. :1. 1 1. nnw�r of opel"::l.t i on . For mA.n 1 ::: hut the ::l � rvRnt .9.nc' t int ·'! r -­ pr-�t.P.T' ' or nature : \'lhat he <'t oe s and wh at he 1qlows i s . on l y 'IITl-t � t h e hns obs erved o.f n�ture 1 s ord e r i n fl)ct o r i n th nn,o;h t ; . 11 · �l <) 1, ( cr. rf:'ll i": on , n P.mnh � � t s· on reveal s n:tb t�A in the i r mot 1 (\n t h r m H th of P;rmr t h , ha s or " hum:tn ra l l s the diffe renc� bo tNe en nature and h u man re spec� ive t h f.' s t ab i l i t y In hnman natu't"e , man , hnv l n r:: law s of a l l compound bod i e s , On the only ha s t o c h oo s e the mnt t n r in " conveni ent m ovemen t s , " mAtnr it;y anrl d e cay . under In nature , d e v e l opment : space effects l aws o f. p:rowth and d e cay . h f'.'! not " human minrl " in an.<'U t i on t o hl l m:tn ac t i on an d t i me , a s prin c l pl � � o f ch �.l, r�o , hot1 :v , The 119-22 ) . o t h e r hann . s t eps that i s the hav i ng rea s on , of h i s growth , but he t o f ind l i m i t s , . f o r bod. i ly as 't're l l a s a s p i. r i t ual need s , i t s whi ch w i l l ke e p h im w i t h i n " c onveni en t �ovement s , " al�y l i m­ that i s b0.yont1. th 1 � h e knows not h ing ann can d o not h i n.� . For the chn in of f'!:l 1 J s e s cB.nn ot. hy any f o r c e he l o o s en or hrol�cn , nor c:tn nR: t H re be c omman cl ed excn pt by be inr,: obeyed . fl.nd s o t h o s e tl;Tin oh j r> ct. � , hu man l<nowl ed �e and humR-n '!'JOWe r , n o rea l ly meet in one ; nnn i t i s froM i .o:n oran c e of c:J.u s e s that opern t i on fai l s " ( �rov . Or� . , D i s t r i b . Op . , s ect . 6 ) . n r mean i t t o be a h i s t ory not on l �r of' n FJ.ture f'ree and at larr,e ( t'lhen she i s left to h r� r mm cour � e and n oe s h e r wo rk her own Nay ) . . hut much more o f n2. ­ tnrP. 1. m n er con s t ra int ancl v e xed ; that i s t o say , �rh en hy r-trt r-tno t ho hnnil. o f man she i s forced out o f her natura.l s t a t � , A.nrl s qu l". ezen a11d. m oulr'l en: " Orov . Orp: . , D i s tr th . Op . , s e c t . 3 , c f . 1 , A nh ' s • 1 -11- ) ; " On a r: i v en horly , to g-enP-ra t e and s n ne -r i n­ d H ce. ::t n eN nature or ne1'1 natu.res · l s t he Nork R-nd n. i m of h' lfTl"l.n 'V'�'""' r . O f r3. rd ven nat1 1 re t o n t ::>r�over t h e f o rm , t h e tru " � m� c i ­ f i c r'l t -r r " rcn c e , or n1ltnre - en�en n e r ing n n t u re , o r � O'Jrc0 of P.JT!:).n�.t. l on , . . . is t h e work ann a i m of humf.J.n 1m<nT l e n p.:c '' ( N ov . Orr; . ?. , A nl-l . l ) . T h ou ,�h BA con qu ot A s Lucre t :t u s ' pra i s e of Epi <'l l T'U S a s rl:l � cove re r o f t h e n�. tu re of t h i n�:1 ( N ov . Orr; . , 1 , A ph . 1 ?. 9 ) , ann t hour:h Lu c re t in s speaks , in t h e Rccotm t of mr:tn 1 s d evf'lop­ mcn t. , of t h 0 co opera t t o:n of 11 p�a c t i c e anrl th e oxne r t en c r.l of t: h e �n rrPr m i nr:'! 11 ( 5 , l?ln-AO ; anrt m y Dis s . , op . c i t . , pp . 111�- R ) � h e l'TOn l n never , l i. ke Ba con , s p�ak o f man ' s " end cnvor t o " S t n-hl i sh �net exb�11n t h � pm-;cr f\nd dom i. n i. on o f the humnn r.1. c e 1. t s b 1 f over th� nn j vr> r :< r " ( il ov . Or.r; . , . 1 , A :oh . 1 ?9 ) . i Bn. � on • s v 1 G i on of t h P. 11 f" r.'ln 1 'Y'� of ma 1 1 ov e r thinr;r: " ( Nov . Orr: . � T , 1\ nh . 1 2 9 ) rr s t � m: t r. r-- �nnnor d. t i on that he hil s 11 ri s tn.b l i. :.hen forever a t ru e · .<: n•l ln.,·r fn l Pl.., rr i F! p;r:> br> bm en the emp l r t c::J. l 1lnd t h e ra t 1 ona l fn c. 1 .1 1 ty , t: h 0 1 m 1 d nil nnd i 11-s tn.rred c'U vorc e and S "'! TJ."l. r(l t i on of '•Th i ch h : � � t h rrwm tnto c on f1 1 R i on :o�. lJ. t h e affn. i P :_:! o f th8 h1.lm� n fa1'1 i. 1;r " .. ( �! rw . Oro; . , In s t �n t . r1ar;nn. , PrP. f :; ; cf . 1 , .ll. ph .· 9 5 ; cf L . �,-;:P.P') , .'�. n i. � t rorlu ct l on t o the pol i t i cn. l pl1 i l o s ophy of F . Bacon , D t � r: . � C11 1 c-=trr,o 1957 , ch � 7 , The C on que s t of •Nn.tu re ) . · . . �,., ; t'1 i n { cf . th� frrmc1-ror.-k o f hu mn.n · 5 , J.ltJ0- 5 ; 2 , 1 -6-1 ) � �ur·u � , ove r the o l ii i.tr, fn l f 1 1rrtc.n t t h e pr:J z c l>Th i ch e l cvat n s !\pi ­ is ( r!f . - 1 , 6 ?. -?9 ; 3 , t h e new r:od of culture ft , 1. -lr.? ) , in Th i s wi sdom ' t o lmm-1 t h n. l i m i t :. nnt\1rc !lnpropr l ::t t � for · man 1 r. ri.ntnro r:o<'l s , C�res � on l �,r d cn.lt w i t h bod i ly nn cd s ( 5, Rncchu8 rmrl 1�3 0 ; 5 , 1-90 ; Pcrculc � , Nh o To l�ON t h e l l m :t t � · 1- 51� ) . annrorrr :J n. t P. f or humn.n nat u re m ean� t o know the 1 i m t t s for c on ­ t r o l l tr1 � rino �1-,n.nr:inp; l'lA. ture and nn.ture as . pro s pe c t The ?4 ; 2, . e sn . in book re s pe c t sake o f 1 1 fe , " both hu man a : l>lh.o l e . · .. of the death of human nat u re refle c t than w i th " f or the ll J l -2 ), wh i.ch will d eve l opment mak� man nature , Of t our na u ral world set an en d ( 2 , 1105- t o nny h i s t o r i c<t l whether pos i t i �e or ner;at i vc , l 2 on t i me more w i t h respect. · t o to the l i fe o f . mank i nd . his ot-m l i fe A s Lucre t ius c la i ms t hree : i l lud. in h i s rebu s v i de o f irrriare pot e s se , usqw� a<'leo naturarum ve s t i p;ia l inqu i nP.rvola , quae nequ eHt rat j_ o dene ll e re n ob i. s , l � t n ih i l i npf'?rl_ i at d i p:na m n. i s n e r;ere v i tam . ( J ; 3 19 -22 ) 1? � �1-- olarr-: wi cl e l y d t. s a.c:r:rne about the po� t t i v e 0 1� rt e ,n:n t i v 0. evn. l n at i on o f man ' s h i � t or i c a l d ev P. l opmr.m t hy t; h 0 F:})lc11 rr�an s . l!f" l th (:' J"' t h e s i mply n iUJi'FB TDA , I l f i!Ja] e 0 0 ] V l ihro el i J,l l cr�z l o , F.pi cu ren in mP m . H . B i P'norJn , GP.novn. 1 0 .� 9 , 1 ?�"Ll r)5 ; 'P . I<'LT�Tf1.'Jt;;R , Ph i l o s onh :l P. und J) i c h t Jmn s t �.m !�nn e 0 P. s 2 . P.u ch � s n � s 80 , J 9 52 , J�Jl ; I. .,R 0'!3 TN , S u r ln c ol1.c0'!"lt 1 e p1.curvmn� nn R evue d e m�Jtap�y s iqu P. � t �o��l e , 2 1 , 1 9 16 , n o� t h e �imply r'r'T�;\l T . T.<1. m orale n 1 'En i cure et s e s r.q nnort s n.ve c . l e s r! oc t r i ne s �O.Ylt 0l"lnQrninc s , Par i s 192 7 ) v i eN fi o j'u s t :t c e t o t h e e n 1 �nrean al>rarene s s .of th e prqbl emat i c char::1.c i;( er o f humar-. 11 T) r- n n-re r.; s " . A.nprecJat i on or both a s pe ct s , pe s s i m i s t i c nr.n ont 1 m i s i t c ( F . f1. IAfi.! COTT I , L 1 ott im1 s mo re la.t t v o ne l 11 l)e re rum natura '' rl.i Ln �rez i o , Tortno 1960 ; R . MONDOL:PO , La c omprens i on e <h� l s ol"p:e t t o umano nell 1 ant i chita c la s s i ca , Fi renz e , 19 58 ; my D i s s . , on . c it . , pp . l Jl-9 ) , s e em s to c om e closest to the t ruth . p� ss l m ir: t i c ( P. on �u;rez ! Hermes , . pror:r??� , 6�7-719 ) , opt 1 m i st i c ( � . � . seems t o An �. Tn � on� nP!"l.th . t h in:� t h � Th e · r:.oo ::: . ano at om s , bool< � cosm of worlds , . fou �, i� t i mo ::m � th e books n.hou t t wo , the boolm ab ou t thA m i r, ro�o�m one ann. f i ve nnd s i x , t he books ahou t the s h O\'l'S mn.n ' s s pe c ial po $ i t i n w i h in o t mR.r.�o ­ thP.: sum be in� i n t h e c n e r betwe en m i cro c os m and macroco s m , e t o f th in�s : h P. are n ot conc nrn cd. abou t por, i t i on o b oo k s three and f T.0-n , hP-b·mcn b oks o of ' i s :::tt t h e same t i m e part of the cyc l e of t i me and nature and. Mf!:tt 1 s able t o detach h i m s e l f from i t o acc unt of h i s ' rea s on . n o m i nd and. s ou l enable h i m t o be a ware of t i me , tl.:l e mAa su rable as p c o nature . e t f . . role wi tl1 in tJ aturA , A \'r.;lre t o be awa re of of nature and t 1me 1 s man becom e s aware of death , more so t h :1.n sJn,ce . the end t o t h e fulfi lment of hum�n nat u re of ; pir .tl , t m ore s i � i f i cant than the beginning of i t s prom i s e . is The ex­ hortat i on o person i f i ed nat u r e t f o overc m t he fear of de a t h , oe in t h e Fin l o h ok three , ae f o in mo re gen r l t e rms , e a f ea of t h e r e xh rtat i n t ov e rcome t h o o o e the P.n�. o . mo i on . f t pl i c i tly , means , book abou t m t i n and r s , o o e t end of t ime , The Proo m ium of b o t w , e ok o im­ the pra i s ed the task of the epi curean ph i l osohe r to gain res o er m t i on t h roug p t v o h enabl in� h i m and , the power of � ind , t o evaluat e t h e needs of body and m ind , an d . t here­ fore t o set l i m i t s for h i m s e l f in a cr. ord ance wi th human nature ( 2 , 1-61 ) . Th e f ct t ha a t b ok thr o ee e xpla in st h e na ure t mind and one , at s oul in in mot i on th rour,h t e rm s of bod i e s lea� , wond r abmlt t e r:a i.n r e s t o e r m ot i on and t v the chance s h e l"e fore tm•rard s t im e w i c h w uld rend.e r i h o t l i fe RS · i t appears t o be ' � 6r ihe the � 1 nale of b o t re e, nat u re , ok h t h e nnc han�eab le aspect o f v oid , of t h e m i nd , tot ake on make s ever t o an at t i tude as ne,g l i t�ible for one i i fe o f '3 1_nr:le of t he sum of t h i � g s . In a lways pre s ent and repre s �n t i n being , t r i e s · t o c onvince man , that �t lM� , n l1 r 1 n�vel"' pre s ent , n e t ther a s wholP. n6t- i n i t r:: r�:nrP- s �n t inr: th� c han,n;enbl� aspe c t of. n � .�u. �i.bl� a.s fl\r as humAn life i s . ncc io.ent of mat ter . a c'c l �.ent of in fo rc e of t i me , t i. m e : man means that the poet i c me taphors and. s pa c e. of t tme , m ot i on of. t i m e , chan �in� th e nature of the wh ol e · 1'10rld 11 a l t erin[",' a l l thi ngs " on are there fore not the same leve l , but one , , An .1 n or fina l ly • to he reihtcP.d t o i t s ph i l o s oph ical d efini t 1 on . "'T'imP. In oth ':! r \•roro r-: t hRt t i me i s on ly mot i on throu r:h space ; Thi s nature . ap:oearnnc e s , i r: c.onc o rn ed . p(!T'S On i f i. � d nn.t u rc tr1. e s t o C OnV 1. riCC p:1.r t � , of are ( 1 , 1�59 - 6 ) ) . r.m d " nature int erchan �eable terms subsumed under t h e o t h e r , t ime , n.: "l.ture . rm tnt en i m mund i nnttir::t!'l t ot iu s a r:> t n s �l i oque n l i u s st�tus exc i n�re omn ia d ehf:'t " "=' � !TI�ne t ulla s11 i s im tl i s r0 � : omn i a n i rrr�nt , ornni � c o!"!m1.1 tr:1.t nat u r-A- ,_t vert ,qyoe C O '"': i.t . n ,.rnqn e A.l. 1 uo pn t rP,:;ctt et nevn �.e'!J i l e l:1r:�uet , 110""1"'0 �.l i n n ( mw ) c r0 � c i t e t ( f) ) cont 0mpt i.bu s e xi t . s i c i r: i tnr mnnn. i n a tu rn.m t ot i u � a.ot �. s � , tRt , et e x al to t nrram statu s c xc 1 p i t n lt e r , r:J.n on . notn i t :n equeat , po s s tt quod n on t n J ; t :1.n t e . �� ( 5 , 82A-Jh ) � tm n �.rl. �r to th� s;rmme t-r-y of it 1. r. cn s s :J. on About a1 s hane of at oms \Ora � t. Ari n � al l th 1 nr:;s " �'1 , ' "· 1 1 �r �ff�cted. hy n n"'l�n t rl. t nn.tu r� " 111"! -r . p . 9 above . book b-To 13 i � framed by both . ( 831 in , Nhel"A th e c �� t :r."1 l rmrroundnd by t h e d i t:l - f':hf' ll � c ount of " t i m f' ehn.n- 'T'he c �ntr::t l pos i t i o� of " om11 l::1 R?.8-36 ) .. . . . ann. the comprehr-m s i ve - ch.'!racte �' '1 nn '!':nr1 r1 t ot 1 n � " ·. ·R 1·l ,... '"" '"' f-! t " mntat rm 1. m mnnrH nA.t1 1 r'1.m t ot i u r: n e t :"l � " 1.n hm·rP.v0.Y. , thn.t t t m e :t s on ly 1 the appn.rrmt , !' 1 '11"l. l l;r �11 rn·m ln the c ent er of Ln oret :i.ur: 1 of nn.turc , t;h l') :ro�t . t. r.inmph of Prooerr: ium fou r t � felt e1ven r.torc i f -one i s aNa.re of i t s H i T.lDO l :Jrto::: ( 73-87 ) . th e po s s e s s i on of th!'YJ There , H t ppol�r t o s , fi"UJ 'feo 5'0 v'? by t each inP;:l. l-1- , . reveled f l m·rers to Artemi s , v i oJ..qt e TTlead.m'l , snr i :n o:t i me wat e red bee . l5 hy· A ! dos F:u r i p i d e t 1 fancJ'i n,o; h i mGe l f in vers i on of the and 1 ov.c s own brow . Ln cre t ius and t h e Mu s e s , na ture ra ther a l<Treath of or , been 2 1 -7 ) . an i. n ­ i ma�c , the poet , l ov e s t o approac:h rm<t to pluck fl ovre rs and to Th e re lat i on of H i p:pol;rt o s a l t ered t o th e re lat i on o f more poignant ly , of t 'l1 e poet and ,;enu s , . the eond.e s s over h i s l h'P or _by and v :l. s i ted only by the of t h e Hus e � , nnd h i s �odd e s s A rt em i s h a s ( 1, 9 2 1 � 50 ) s ou rce , a pos s e s s ion In Lucre t ius ' wreath for h i s of th in rr,s " ] , ( cf. in h i s ded.:i. cat i on of t o o r inl{ from virr; i n s prin�s , ::\ , t: h 0. d� t fj cn.t i on fl m-rers wh ich were plu cked from t ravers ing path le s s f l e ld s B e ek t h P. pP.r::: nn i. f t r:� ­ aYJn. t h � Pro o�?.mium of book fon r , 'J'hP. hu t. t h.1. t 11 ])0 rern m n"'.t u r.., " , tn th e h'1 lancr> of the Ti' i n:l] e of book t h rP. e , t i on of' 1 The fa ct that t o t h e re lat i on poem 11 0n the nature th e wrent h , h mt�ever , is tud�r o f t h P. ph i l o s op'-1 ical i mpJ. i cat i ons of t h i s key c f . m;r '' N ..,mos n.:n rl Phys i s " , An tnt: erpretnt i on of l\u r i nide s 1 H i nnolyt os , HerM e s , · 1 0 1 , 1973 , 16 5-87 . n nrt� s 8. �('} , � 1 .5Por n · c omprehens l ve int e rpretat i on of th i s pa s sa .o;e , 0 s pe c i a l l � 1.t � s�rmhol ,_ oal mean in� , cf . C . S EGA L , T h e Tra.n:P.n y o f th e H inno­ lyt os ; 'l"he \>Ta t ers of Ocean and the Unt ou ch ed M eati m'l , HS C P , 70 , 196 5 ; 11 7-69 . �ne i ther ror th� Mn � � � n or VP.nu s , has � miv�th in� t o · <lo · ldth bn t for- tt:te poe t h i m!=:elf , · h i s pos s e s s i on of a t cach in�: , . a tea�li 1. n.rr, n ot only about Venus ,· but about Venu s _ and Mars , two -rm-rers repre s entat ive of creat i on and d e s t ru c t i on , t or;eth<"r , forin the wh o l e of " the nature of" th ingr-f. " 0mpnas t � on t eac h inP," as r e a s on for 1. J ln� tri ou s wreat h that csw 'f_eoGJ v-, , t i on i s evem s tronp;e:r s i pc e Lucret iu s • .. ' " th e whole natu�e of · th inn;-s • . i s a r:ift by . Th i s oppos i ­ t eac}'l ing cla i ms t o be The i mar;e of_ th e v is i t ed by the sprinp;t im� bee , lat e meaclo1>r , The _ seekinr: thn nat u re ra t he r thA.n A.n Ftch i eventent by t each l ne . a.bont the noet speaks of h i m s e l f and h i s l i s t eners as ·; · There , " be e s flmt�ery �lade s , feedirtg on · all thy gold�n l'IOrds " , ( 3 , 9-1 7 ) . pas sar�e s , Hlppo l y t o s and the r,uc:re t i u s 1 " De rerum natura " , in th� a t eachine , cons idered worthy of eternal · l i fe one from Eu r ipide s ' inv i o- in the i s u s ed _ Pro oemlnm of book three l�i th reference to Epicuru s . the \·rh i ch , 1 s d iamet r i cally oppos ed. to the Eu:r t p i rl ean v i el..r t hat v i rtue , H ippoly t os ' the po e t ' s the Thour:h the tNo one from s eem t o s tat e oppo s i t e vi et'ls , the out c ome of the Euripidean play pro ve s H ippolyt os ' v i ew to be at leA.st insuff i c i ent , if not fal s e . The s t ronr;es t conclu s i on t o he d ral'm from ·the play would. he that man can hav e no meaning· ful relat i on wi t h · the divine , a conclu s i on wh ich l eads more or l e s s d i rec t ly t o Lucre t iu� •· pr id e in from t h P. t i r:h t knot s of ro l i p; i on" T n the o f " D� rP.rum Prooemium . �'f nat ur� " as b oo k . one , well fr e e .i np; the minds of men 6-7). t h e ber;innin� of · the 1>1h o l e a s t he bep;i nn ing· o f i ts first . half , V�nus was ha. f ed as r.;odd.e s s i (4, " f"OVerninr; nature , · ( orit.P.rinr: the sacri f i ce of Iph igene i� oy Agamemnon ) P.xampl� for re l igi on and i t s act s aga in s t na ture whi l e Di <lha s t ood a s ( 1 , 62-79 ) . �Jn t h � P1"" o oem i u m hn l f of of hpok r mir , "De r�rum n n t. n rn " , D i ann ; t. n f" pn. r; s .<:t p:P. f r om Eu r 1 p i r=J e s ' ani'. v t rtne , as a r: i ft , �:n n.chi nvement , ( 3 , 1 '3 ) t in s , is by n.a t u re , s e c on r'! . in t h e trrln s f ormnt ton of H i p:polyt o s , b y t ea c h i n r,- . t. h ou r:h t o f Ji:pi curu s 1 t h 0 bc n: inn tnp: o f t h e is r8 j e c t c n. for V nn,,H3 , i s ne � l e c t c d f or v i r tue ,. · R. s Th i s , .i n turn , mean s that t e a c h i n r: be tnr: w o r t hy o f e t ern a l of fame c ont i nu e r'!. by the . e xpec tR.t i on of h oney . l 6 surround inp.;- Th e pra i s e of the cu:r l i fe for Lu cre ­ \'rho t rans f orm ed th� ph i l o s oph i ca l t e a ch i n � in t o n o P t i c t eRchinp; , the a wormwood vrit h a t ou c h of t eachin,o; r.:lt h e r than riF.t t u r e as s ou rcP. of v irtue l 0. ave s on e l'li t h t h e qu e s t i on whe t her nat u re , i n� i f fe ren t to he t oward s man and t he fulf i l lment of h i s l i fe , i s m e r e l y s tud i e·rt. or whe ther man nn � 1 re f or the sake of l i fe " is suppos ed ( 5 , 206 -9 ) . t o " re s i s t The Prooemium of book tNo , t h e book about m ot i on a.nd. r e s t , bef, l n s \'Ti t h a c on .:. s i d e rat i on of the life S l•Te etn e s s . o f · wa t c h i n� the r� s t le s sne s s cau s ed by e lemen t s of nature ( th e s h i pNre c k ) of and h umo!ln l f'1tn th r0 s pe c t t o t h e re lat i on b e h 1ceri t h e p.'ls sar:,e of Eu r- i p j de s I H inno1yt os ( 73 - 8 7 ) a nd t h e two oc currence s of t h e s n m e t h nmn ' " D e rn :rum na t urrt11 { 1 9 2 1 - 50 ; h , 1 - 2 5 ) , I \-;ouJ/l · i n I.n0r e t iu s SUf"!"'0 S t th.<tt t h e f i r r: t h R l f .( 7 3 - 8 1 � of tho Eur i pi n E"'an pa � s n r,A i s t r0.n t 0t1 i n the f i r s t Luc r e t ian ver r; i o·n ( 1 , 9 2 1 - 5 0 ) , ��h U 0 t 'I1 P. s 0 c ond ha l f ( 82 - 7 ) of i t i s fl ea 1 t \·r i t h , '11-Tl11:�:n i t o c cu r s t h e r: '::' c onr'i t i me ( 1�- , 1 - ? 5 ) . The re<t s on for t h i s dJ s t r l bu t l on c n n he fonnfl t n the m o r e t h e ore t i c:l l a s pe c t of Eu :r i p i d A S ' H i pp o l y ­ t, , s , 7 J - R 1 r-t�1r. T..ucr0 t iu s 1 " De re rum nat1 1 rn." ; 1 , 9? 1 - ) 0 ( " :1 u � TJP. l" :-: n � � i s or.Jn P m l1 n t u rr:tm rr:•rnm ft1 18. c on s t n t �� omptn f i r:urn " , 1 , Ohf1-_50 ) , .'1 nrl t r e m o r e p�act t c:'l. l a s pe c t o f Eu r i 1) i o e s 1 H i p:;o 1 y ­ t 0� , P2 - 7 , ann. Lucre t i u s ' " D n rerum nat u ra " , 1r. , 1 - 2 5 ( " d urn }!Pr­ . s '8 i ci s omnr>m nn t nrnm r.e r1.1 m a c percn t i s u t i l i tn. t em " , l� , ? lt - 5 ) . ('. f . my " �J o n o s and Phys i s " , o:p . c1 t . , 165-9 : for t h e s i r;n i. f t �.'"l n c c o f t'l1r-- c on t o x t f or the d l f f e renc e o f t h e . tNo Lu c rc t i an p:1. ::: ; :1.r/� S , c f . r. . S TRAUSS , tT o t e s on Lu c r e t i u s , Liberal i sm Anc i ent and JV' nf!. . . . � rn . rr��·T York , 196 8 , p . 113 . �?. ( nn tnr0. ( �h � ·nn t t l� ) , ''lh i l e <me n e l f 'T'h c � n t r:h t of swcetne � s , t P. � ch 1 n� of Fp i curn s t"J ou�h , rA �t ( ? , 1 - f> ) . i r: a t i s :l�h i �v0.r'!. t 1-tr 0n rrh th � ( ?. , 7 - 19 ) , throu r-:h t h e t � <t �h i n;"': "l.hnn t:: t h e nrtturo of t h i n.n:r: , wh i ch wl l l re � cu0 on� fr0m thP. r � :� t ­ l � r: s n ('> s s of hum:::tn l i fe in :::t l l i t r: v :.\r i ou s wny r. . whnther nA.ture i s only t o he c6nt empln t e r1 or fo1 1 rr,h t fir;n. t n � t for t he s ::tke o f l i fe i s never openly answered " De rl"rum n!itnra " . · T he fact to a c1 tp of wormwood whi ch rv aronnci t he . . The ·. f':Oes throu�h On a. smaller s oa l e , s c riJ')t i on o f l i fe , n �rt of first the des cript i on of the . work . l i fe , ' bookn , has eve ryt h i n� wort h l iv ing for , of it . and th e swe et Prooem iw has in i t s c nunt er­ the d e s cr i pt i on of the fr om _ me re l i f e to thn h i r;l" T h e fact that the c enter of the s i x t h e t op;et h e rne s s of the F i nale of book three and t h e l..e t s R. r t e l' t h � h i t t er wormwood , o f cleath , thre e , c ount er� i t s coun t e rpa.r t i n the bi t t e r F ina le d e s cript i on of the h i ghfl st ach i evem ent Pr ooP.miurn o f book four , sweP-t . has i t s sw� P.t the sweet Prooemium of book one , . the rl e ­ i n the b i t ter F inale of book s i x , . est 'rle vel opment The of book s i x , . th e de s cr i pt i on of o. cath the t ea ch in� about t h e nature o f t h in�s , ru in of l i k cn�o honey and t h en whol e of Lu cre t iu s • the d e s c r i pt i on of d ea th , of book three , l i fe , i� ' Finale in the b i t t e r of book fou r , t h e t ea chinr,- Sl-Te et ened. hy th e honey of pn� t ., s equence the :Prooemium of book ona , Pr- �t 'l is i n Lu crct i n n 1 cup ' s r i m ·ve i l s t he anst'ler even more t han t h e ; T>ros e t each inp- �. id . wormwooo that Thf"! rtn , � t t nn u s tas t e , fo.r once , m i �h t mean tha t even the hi t t n rn c s s i f und e r s t ooci i n epi curean: t e rm s , The t h e sNect h on ;:: can b e c ons i n ered :· themat.-ic ... ; s.equence of death , _ in the. F i nale o f book �. . . . and fam e , •' -�� .� in the P·rooerpium of .book four , s e em s to ref l e �nnt. onl y th� n e c � s n r-try c m1n n c t 1 on of nnt u re nncl t 1.me , wh t �h 1 � a lwtys thP. . same wh t ch i s al\.,a.y s d i fferent th e importan� � of of t i me , ne R s ( anr't r� fers t o the p::t. s t ) , ( and r e fe r s nnrl t o t h e .future ) , t ime . oyer aml aga in s t na tu re . of trH 1 t t h n t. bu t a l s o Mnn • s awlr P- ­ w t t h ont t h e awarene s s . of nature , . d. 1 s t ort s h l s v i eN of t h e r e lat i on o f m o t i on and re s t wi t h in t h e sum of th in�s . hr-mo , Mnn ' s awarene s s anci eva luat i on of t i m e , c on s t i t ut e s his cruc 1.al n ot the wh o l e , ano m-1arene s s on t h e other o f natur.e , · and i s t h ere fore only for h i s und e rs t and int:r, of h i m s e l f a s part but a l s o o f t h e wh o l e the poet ' s v o i c e mark ' the i t s elf . T h e fa ct c ent er of Lu c re t i u s ' of that na t u re ' s work , bears out the everlas t inp.: t en� i on between nat ure , . encompa s s in."; al l , and man , s t riving t o encompas s nature . �2A A pn�mc H x rr rn'1. s lnt: t on s �- 1: p. 4: p. nn . 5: 5-6 : 1, of the La-t 1. n quotes : 4 59 - � 3 : - 'Rvr:m s o t i mP e x i s t s not by t t s e l f , hu t from . t'h \n",s t 'l1 am s e lv � � come s a fe � 1 1 n f\ , '"hat w:1 s hr-on r;ht t o a c l o:=:1 A i n t j me p� s t , then 't'rhat i. s nr0f-l �nt · n m'l , a:n.n fu rther �rhat i s r,oi nr: t o be And :\ t mn s t b e av owed. t ha t n o man h �rPnft � r . f � e l s t im� by 1t s P. l f n.p:1 rt from t he mot i on an d qu i �t re s t. of t h i nr;s . .'5 , .56-R : I tPnch , hy \'rha.t ] �N all t h 1.np:s are cr()a. t A<'l , nnd how t he�,. mu s t n � �c1 s Abi fl.e by 1 t , ann how th e;v are not s tron� e:non�h t o break t h rour:h th� powerfu l st�tut A $ o� t i me . 1 , �32-�� Por inf in ite . t-i me :and . the day that has p;one by f1l1J � t neefl s have d ev oured r-t l l t h i n.�s · that are of mortal body . . . Bttt \'lhab:�ver ha s been i n .that s pace ::md r:on e by t i me , out of Nh 1. ch th i s sum of th i. nr:s c on s i n t s anr'f. 1 s repl r.n i shed , is c ertainly �n.fl owP-d w i th i mmortal natu l"t! . 5 , 306-17 : o\ cr�.in , fl.o y ou not beh olfl s t rme s t o o vanqu i nh�fl �;... t i me , h i .�h t ol'm rs fall in;:. in ru i n s , n.nfl rc ckn crumhl tnr; m·m�"., �hri nes nn� i mn,-:e s of the [':O� s �rm'li'1r.t; l'1'0nry rmfl. l-torn , \>Th i l e the i r s� crP d pr� s 0:n� r-­ �.�.vm ot f'!'OJ o�.n:- t h P bou.nn a.Y"i. P. s o f fn.t: P. n or s t ru :r.c). t:­ ::�.�� l n � t +: r.e l m·m of nnt urP. ? .1\ f"'r-t i n , n o 1·YA. n0t � � n. !1 t on � � t 0r-n • 1 p from h i r:;h mo� mt.ains ru � h 1 n,cr h�ac l on c: , 1u1 .,ble t o br ook or b"'ar t h � s t ern s t.renr:th of a J. i m l t: e� t l me ? For· infl��rt t h ey l·:ou l C! n o t - b�r �urld �n l y t 0Y"TJ n -p n11 r'f fa. l l h P. :J r'fJ on.� , i f frorn t i m e �ver1 a s t. i nr� f:'he�,. h rvl he1 fl. 011t n;:n. i n s t a l l the t orm �nt s of" t i �� Ni. th ou t l)r�"lkin� . • n. h� 5 , R?.� -3� � • • t. t m � ch�.n r:e s the n n t. n rf'! of t h e \'t]'lole l>�Ol"1 d � ,... � on "' r. t::t t e � f t E' r :.:n nther m, , �t ,., r: � rl r. nvert.nlrP. � 1 1 thin�!1 , nor fl. o� � a.n�rth tno: tlh i c1 P. l i 1rP. i t r- � l r : n l 1 th i n r;s chn;n p-r t �1 .." i."r n h.':' � r> , '"t:t.tnre a 1 t o r rl f\ 1 1 · th tnr':s r-tnn r.:rms t"rn tn � t h �:-:1 t o h.trn . For on0 tl" � '\"": �ob=: m·ray an" r:roNR f:=t. 1. , t r.Jna fe�ble ,,Ft th ::t.�� � t herA on anoth �r .r;rm·rs up Rnrt i nsuC's f�orn :l. t p1n �c of s c orn . So th�n t j me chn� p:e !:l the nature of th e r:- ."1 ,.. ��··n o1 0 . ,.•n-r-1cl , n.n � . on 0 F: b") t. n. n f t. r .... f11"1 0t h � r rw ,- rtal-:· r> � t. h (' r:-n.rth , r. o t.h. 'l t 1. t c q,.n1. ot h P � r nlv-. t i t ;, hl , hn t. c n n h�:lr Nh :1.t t t d i. cl n ot o f oln . p. 5, 7: 5h-R : J t: R !"! �h , h�r '!Arhn t 1 a.w { t h r.: };'3.\'T of nn.tn :r-0 ) � 1 1 +: h l n r-:s nrr� r.rr.::1te� , �ml h oN t h r.:y mu� t n r.r.: rl � :'1h 1.� f." h�, i t , nn d h oN t h A y o.re n ot r-: t T' on r� r.non�h t o hret:tk t l'rrov r:h t.h r JV'I�·rr.:rfn l r. tnb 1.t r r. o f t 1 :n e . n. ?, 7: � ? - 7� : C i"'f.'� nr.M , T \'r 1 1 1 un f o 1 rl hy l!T}! n t r:l 0Vf"' Jnl"'rt t tr n �"' r f."� t. 1 v � h o� 1 f"' r. of m�t t n T' hP�('t. � i v r r s R t h 1 n�r , n 11 r1 - hrenk u n t. h o !"l r- t h:1.t � r-e hr.[':ot t rm , h �.r N'l-) � t fnrr. r t. h "" Y 'lrr (� m1 s t rr.1 i nf'� t o � o t h i s , rnvl \·rh nt '7 0 1 oc 1 t.:{ l s nn:no :i :ntP.n t h P m fm• mnv h 1,i; t h ron rr:h t h f' rn l r;n ty vo1 � : 0 o �rou rcmn.rr:bnr t o ;r.l vr. yonr rrd.. n� t o my word r. . Ti'C'r i n v�T'Y t ruth , mn.t t e r d. o e s not c 1 r�avl?' r. l 0s r.: ­ !')n.. �ln�d t o i t se l f , s in('r.: w� s c r. 0ach ' t h tn.r:. ):reM 1 P r.: s , nnn · l're pr:o:rce :\ ve a l l th il'l[':G f 1 oN n �·�':"l �r , n � i t l!TP. r c. , i n t.h c l ontr lap n P. o f t. 1 me , a s a r:c N i. thil r:nrs th�=>m from our s i r:h t : rmn yet th� 1.m i vr;rsr: i!'l ::; r �?n t o rAmA. in uml i m i n t s he n , j_ m.-l S Ml.t ch · o.n a l 1 hod i e s that � Pprt.rt from Anyth inr; 1 f' P. S f'm t1·1a t f rom wh i ch t h �y :pn � s ::n'lay , ann b1 e s r-: 1111 th tl'l.cre:l ci e t hat t o wh 1 ch thP.y have come ; they c ons t ra i n t h A former t o �rmor olCl. and t h e J at t er nr:a i n t o f l ourt s h , and yet th ey nh i d e :n o t with i t . Thus th e sum rif th i n �s i s �ver be in!"'; repleni s h ed. , n.nn. m ortn 1 s l i ve on e and al1 bJr r:o;ive- and tal::e . S orne rac e s wax and others wane , and i n n s h or t spa c e the t ri b e s of · l i v :t n � th inr:� are chan sed ; �.nrl 1 i ke runners hanrt on the t orch of 1 i fe . p. n. A: 2 , 297- 3 02 : The hof! t e s of the f i rs t -be�inn :i.n?:s in t h e rJ.r,o s prt s t mo\red Ni th the same mot i. on <i s noN , and h e re:tftP.r 't1i l l he borne for ever in a s i m t 1ar 't'lay ; such things �s have berm l.'Tn!'lt to c ome t o be in.r.; td l 1 be hroup;h t to b i rth u ncler the same cond i t i on , 1d ll exi s t and grow ann be s tronr; , inasmuch as i s gran t ed t o each by t he bond.s of nB. ture . B: 1, · 10?1-31 : . 'F'or in very t ru t h , not by d.e n 1 r;n o i n t h e f i r s t ­ h0.rr1 nn i n �� of th 'i 'Ylf: S place t h � m s 0 lv e s ench in th e i r orrl.er wi th for� s e e inr; mi nn , nor ind e ed. d i d t n �;r make r.om1x1 ct wha t . moveml3nt e a. ch � h ou l d r> t n rt , hnt becau s e · m;:my of them s h i ft inr,: i n mari.y way s thron.�;h ov t t h e v.rorld a re harri ed and bu ffet ed by b 1 m·rs from l t mf t 1 e s s t ime ; by t ry ing movements and un i ons - of every k ind , at las t th e y fal l int o s uch d i spos i t ons a s thos e , �') 0 Nh�rP-hy ou r wor ld o f t h i nr:n i s � rcnt cn n. n � hoJ.d rr . t o'"':�th �r . Ann i t t o o , prc � c rven from hnrrn th rour;h m.·1 ny ,. a m t n:hty cyc l e of yen ros , whrm on c P. i t h :'l s hr!rm n<'lf:t i n t o. con vcn i rmt movernrm t ::t , hr 1 n�s 1 t ·"l ho1 t t thnt :rivers replen l sh the !';reP.it y s e a -� • p. 10 : • • 5 , 43�-45 : the b i rt h of thP. t•rorlcl } n s o rt of fr� sh�form�d . � t orm , a ma � n r:at he re_d to�ethcr of f t :r s t -be,..;i nninr:s of every ldnd , . wh oso d i s cord \·1.1- n wn.r;tn.� ,.,�:r ani'! confound. i np; i nt e r - s pac e s , path s , tnterlr-t.c in.o;s , wP- i r:h t s , bl mu:: , mc e t inr;n , n'Yl.rl mo t i ons , hPcnn s e mdnr: to th e i r un1 1 ke forms A.nd varl ous �hn.nP.s , al l thinp:s \'U�re unable to remain � n un i on , R � they do n ow , and t o �1ve an d rc ce ivP.· c onven i en t movem�nt s . 'T'h'm ( at pn . 10-11 : p. ' 14 : p. '15 : 1. , ' 322.;.8 : IA � t-ly , whatevm" day Find n�ture -a � d � - t o th ings 1 :\ tt-le :by l i t tle , impe ll i nP: t h em _ t o P.;row. in nn e proporti on , the s t ra inin � . s i eh t of the eye c�Yl. never behold , nor a�a i n wh erever thin�s f"'rO't� old. t hrou�h t ime and d.e cay . N o r where rocks OVP.r-hang.. the sea , devou red by th� th in �R.lt spray , c �u ld you see t..rhat they lose in t i me . By bod i e s uns een then nature t reats th inp.:s . 1 , 459-6 3 : ;F.ven s o t j_me . e xi s t s not by 1 t s e l f , · bu t from th 1n�s themA elves co me s a fee ling , l>�hrtt llfa s brour;:ht to a c l o s e in t i.rn e pa s t , then what i s pre s ent now , and furt her what Ana i t mu s t be i s p;oinr: to be hereafter . avo�red t hat no\'r mr.'ln fe e l s t l me by i t s e l f a­ part from the m o t i on ann qu i et re s t of th ings . 2, fi9�79 : nerce i ve al l th in�s f l ol'r a1-1R y , 1 n the l on .n: l�pse of t i me , <:'. S ar;e 'ole t:t � it vrA re , tfi thn rr::n·r s t h eM fr>om our a i 0:h t : · and y e t the univerAe i � s e en t o rcm:::t in · ·und1 m i n.is'hP.n , inasmuch a s a l l bod i e s that n �na:rt from A.nyth inr: , l e s �en that from Wh i ch t h r.>y p.'-l s � aNay , ann ble s s ' w i th increase that t o wh i ch t h ey have come ; t h ey cons t rn i. n the f o rm e r t o gr"0\'1 oln anfl th� l at t e r._ a�a in to flouri Ah , and �ret the�,r ::t h i_d e _ n ot wi th i t.. Thu� the m.tm of th ing-s i s p·1.r-�r b0 1 n r: rcpl <m i shen anQ. mortal s l i ve one .nnd. all by S om � - rac e s W<:tX and o t hers wane , and �:tve anri _ take . j_n a sh ort space the t ribe s of" l i v inr: thi ner; a.re chan.r:;ed , anii l i ke runne-rs }land on the t orch of- l ife . _ �'3 1 p. 15 : 5 , 1� � - 1 00 : B n t 0v �11 ,.r.'lrl t. h 1!": thn t: T V.n.:\•T n n t 1'Tl,.t t n rc t � !" f l r� t. -1)�",f"': 1 '1n t n :'"':� of t h t n ,rr r: , t.h1.1 r: n1 .1 � 11 n t l r·H:: t T \<'Y 01 1 1 r'f rlrl rr t o r� ff t rm fr0m t h 0. ,, r. r-:r wn ',' S of h rnvnn , _ :'1n n t o shm·r from m�n�r o t h t"! r fnct � th:'1t th(' \·mrl t'l ,m � T1 c v 0 r nn n f' f o r 1 1 r: h�r r.l i v 1 nc n cn,r r. r : !1 0 ·fT' rr>rtt hrc t h ,.. fan l t s Nh .: rnw i. t h i. t r: t ::m r'l. r: f'nr'J motcl't . T n t. h 0 f i rr: t !'l1 rt r. 0 , of n 1 1 thf.lt the s l{y eovorc in j tr: mJ r:ht�r m mr r. m Pn t , a f!T'Nlt P""-rt ts pos :1 e r: fl en by r;rc cdy monnt a i n s n ncl fore s t s fu l l of \•t i l d bc::u� t s , -rn rt rocks and vns ty mn r s h c G hol n , nnd t h 0 s r-- ::t thn.t k0 c n s t h e sh nrc s o f i t s l nnn s f n. r ap::t rt . He l l - n i p.:h hto part s of t h e s e land s are r obbed from m o rta l s by s c orch i nf.i heat , and c on r: t r.m t l y- fal l inr, fro s t . Ev en t h e lanr'l t hat is l e ft , nn ture wou l d s t i l l cover wi t h brambl e s by h er m•m pm>te r , bu t t ha t man • r: power r e s i s t s fo r t h e s ake o f l i fe . p. 16 : 5, , 1 45 2 - 5 : 'Pra c t i � e and. th erewi th t h e e xpor1 cncP. of t h e e:1r.;er m i nc'J taur:ht t h e m l i t t l e b y l t t t l e , a s th�y went forNard s t ep hy s t e p . S o , l i t t l e by l i t t le , t !. me brirf(i:s � out each -s�everaT -thi'h� lrit o · v l ew , a·nd. r�a s on rat s e s i t up int o the c oa s t s of 1 1 e;ht . - p. 17 : 5, 127� - 80 : 5, 1452-7 : Thu s ro l l i n� t ime chan�c s t h e t i m e s o f t h i n�s . ':That l'Ta s of . value , be c ome s i n t u rn . of n o 'IIT Orth ; R.nr! t h en another t h 1 nr: ri s e s up r:md l eave s i t s pl�ce of s corn , and i s s ow;ht m ore and more . ea ch day , and when f ound bl os s om s i n t o fame , A!l.ri i s of wondrous h on ou r amon g men . p. 17 : 'Prnct i ce rmd th erew i t h t h e 0.xpe r i en 0 e o f t h e ea n;er m i nd t au �h t them l i tt l e by 1 i t t le , a s t h ey l'Te'!1 t forwA-rd s t ep by s t e p . S o , l i t t l e by l i t t l e , t :t mr?. br in!Ys out each s ev e ral th tne int o v i ew and r�a. s on ra i s e s i_t up 1 n t o the c oFt s t s of l i.r:h t For t h e y saw one t h i nf{ a f t e r ano t h e r grow c l E!ar i n t he l r h eart , unt i l by their art s t hey rea ched t he . h i g:he s t point . p. 20 : 3, 3 19 -22 : On e th in,:; I feel able t o aff i rm s o sma l l rtre the t ra c � s of d i fferent nature s l e ft , wh i ch r e as on c ou ld not di s pel for u s , t ha t not h i ng h inders u s from l i v in� a l i f e worthy of god s . . • . �)2 p. 22 : 5 , 826�36 For t 1!11 P- chnnr;o s t h n nnture of the t'lh olc l·mrlr'L ann .one s t.'lte · a f t " r ; m other mn s t needs ov� r tnkP. nl l th in�s . nor d o c s anyth in� ah idn l ike i t s e l f : a l l th inr:s c han rt:e thc i. r n.bon.c , nnt urP. a l t e r 5 a l l th 1 n �s ann constl"a inn t h�m t o tu rn . Ti'or 011 0 th in� rnt: s al'l:J.Y and ,;rows faint and . feebl� ltTi t h ar;� , thet'eon n.nother �r ow s up and- i s sues from i t plane of � corn� S o t hen t i me chari�e s the nature or the wh ole w or ld , and one s tate after another overtake s the eartl1 , s o that i t Qannot bear what it d id , bu t can bear what it did not of old . � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 16 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Gisela N. Title A name given to the resource Time and nature in Lucretius' De rerum natura Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-03-08 Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on March 8, 1974 by Gisela Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 57328 Subject The topic of the resource Lucretius Carus, Titus. De rerum natura Philosophy, Ancient Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1082" title="Sound recording">Sound recording</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/a45d671434cddc4ab796efb3ba5aaf8d.mp3 95a54f5ef733704a45c93ca7630471d9 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data cassette tape Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:54:01 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Laurence, 1928- Title A name given to the resource Religion, enlightenment, and the American character Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1985-04-12 Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on April 12, 1985 by Laurence Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 13510 Subject The topic of the resource Religion Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/3b17ec861fe2011b7cd4c8b9eddd702e.mp3 84e818fc14a536120af88dffe491cf8b Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data cassette tape Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:13:16 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Laurence, 1928- Title A name given to the resource Aristotle and Adam Smith on justice: cooperation between ancients and moderns Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1994-03-18 Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on March 18, 1994 by Laurence Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 10323 Subject The topic of the resource Aristotle Smith, Adam, 1723-1790 Justice Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/b74bf35c334a162a42928e47386f7ae9.mp3 f7bdef759725120258278cae0bb1e5b4 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data cassette tape Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:07:55 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Laurence, 1928- Title A name given to the resource Getting Things Together Again in Kant Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2000-04-14 Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on April 14, 2000, by Laurence Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 68459 Subject The topic of the resource Kant, Immanuel, 1724-1804 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Relation A related resource <a title="Typescript" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1090">Typescript</a> (Entitled "Getting things together again in Kant") Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/85233522209e0e3022e9839d9581c500.mp3 08acffa698eaeb5673dc0c31d4cd8509 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data audiocassette Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:21:45 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Gisela N. Title A name given to the resource Schiller's Drama: Fulfillment of History and Philosophy in Poetry Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1982-02-26 Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on February 26, 1982, by Gisela Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context LEC_Berns_Gisela_1982-02-26_ac Subject The topic of the resource Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805--Criticism and interpretation Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Relation A related resource <a title="Typescript" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1089">Typescript</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/50e88d199c529ac41487bf8d699c11e1.mp3 aaa30ff6feb7f52b3200cacf8a1a071a Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data cassette tape Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:54:21 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Gisela N. Title A name given to the resource Time and nature in Lucretius' De rerum natura Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-03-08 Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on March 8, 1974 by Gisela Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 10010 Subject The topic of the resource Lucretius Carus, Titus. De rerum natura Philosophy, Ancient Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Relation A related resource <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1088" title="Typescript">Typsecript</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/9cae239fd936f165c16d0335905789ad.pdf 33cb3fa41963bab899212dea436d4df6 PDF Text Text Towards "a new birth of freedom" --Tragedy and Comedy, 1786: Schiller's Don Carlos and Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro Gisela Berns St. John's College, Annapolis To the memory of Oskar Seidlin The year is 1786. In Annapolis, delegates from different states, among them James Madison from Virginia and Alexander Hamilton from New York, convene to discuss matters of commerce under the Articles of Confederation, with the possibility for h larger issues left open. Like the rehearsal for the performance of a great play, what _ as come to be called the Annapolis Convention concludes with a recommendation for a Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia the following year (Morris, 161-9; Kammen, 19-22). Conscious of the enormity of the task before the Founding Fathers, Madison, in Federalist 14, asks: Is it not the glory of the people of America, that, whilst they have paid a decent regard to the opinions of former times and other nations, they have not suffered a blind veneration for antiquity, for custom, or for names, to overrule the suggestions of their own good sense, the knowledge of their own situation, and the lessons of their own experience? To this manly spirit, posterity will be indebted for the possession, and the world for the example, of the numerous innovations displayed on the American theatre, in favor of private rights and public happiness. In the same spirit, Friedrich Schiller, in his Prologue to Wallenstein, speaks of the struggle for freedom at the end of the century as a time where "actuality itself becomes poetry" and "art, upon its shadow stage I May strive for higher flight, indeed it must, I Or yield in shame before the stage oflife" (WP, 61-9). That these lines, from 1798, have in mind not only the French Revolution, of which Schiller, in 1792, had been made an honorary citizen, but also the American Revolution, is clear from two interesting facts: one, to this day a large lithograph of the Battle of Bunker Hill hangs at the entry to l �Schiller's study in Weimar. The other, in a letter of 1783, possibly meant to confuse the authorities, Schiller toys with the idea of emigrating to America. Undecided whether, once there, he would practice medicine, get involved in politics, or teach philosophy, he concludes: "But tragedies, for that matter, I shall never cease to write - you know my whole being hangs on it" (To Lempp, June 19, 1783). Living in political exile, under the constant threat of persecution for his revolutionary ideas, Schiller, in 1783, turns from the stormy prose of his earlier plays to the noble iambic pentameters of a dramatic poem in grand style, the tragedy of Don Carlos. In tune with the political events of the New World, the completion of Schiller's pan Carlos coincides with the Annapolis Convention of 1786, its first performance in . \ Hamburg with the Philadelphia Convention of 1787. (An added nice touch: On this date, September 17, 1787, the Convention came to agree on the new Constitution to be sent to the States for ratification) (Farrand, 641-9). * * * Set in the historical world of 16th century Spain, under the iron hand of the Inquisition, Schiller's Don Carlos presents the clash of two worlds, the world of Philipp II, despotic ruler over a vast empire, and the world of Don Carlos, his heart aglow with the dream of liberating mankind from such unnatural rule. Serving the King's world, Count Lerma represents the court, Duke Alba the military, Domingo the church. The inspirat)on for the Prince's world, Marquis Posa, his childhood friend, emerges as the mastermind behind an intricate plot, using all major characters of the play in his grand cosmopolitan scheme for the creation of a new paradise on earth. Not a historical figure, Marquis Posa, in the play a knight of Malta, might have been modeled on the Marquis de Lafayette, in 1776 fighting for the Independence of the United States of America (Dokumente, 121). Spanning the years between the two friends, Schiller, at the outset of 2 �the play, was more Carlos's, at its completion more Posa's age. In the Prince's appeal to his father for the command of the army to Flanders: "23 years, I And nothing done for immortality!" (DC II, 2, 1148-9). Heinrich Heine, in his T~e Romantic School, fills out the picture by speaking of Schiller as "himself that Marquis Posa, who is, at the same time, prophet and soldier, who fights for what he prophecies, and, under the Spanish cloak, carries the most beautiful heart that ever loved and suffered in Germany" (Heine, 148). Vowing to use the "portrayal of the Inquisition" to "avenge prostituted mankind" and "strike to the soul of a type of man the dagger of tragedy, so far, has only grazed" (Dokumente, 134), Schiller begins and ends his Don Carlos with the title hero in conflict with the religious authority, at the beginning with Domingo, the King's confessor, to be present at every tum of the dramatic action, at the end with the Grand Inquisitor, blind to all human feeling and demanding the death of the King's son in the name of the sacrifice of God's only son on the cross. (Due to the censorship of Schiller's own time, both the Grand Inquisitor and Domingo had to be omitted in some of the early performances of Don Carlos) (Dokumente, 158-63). One character to heighten the tension between the play's two worlds is Elizabeth of Valois, the King's young Queen. Once betrothed to Don Carlos and in her heart still his, she also shares his political dreams and sympathizes with Marquis Posa's plans for him. To complicate matters, the King has his eye on Princess Ebo Ii, one of the Queen's Ladies in Waiting. She, however, is secretly in love with the Prince. Unbeknownst to Philipp, Domingo, his solicitor, and Alba, his henchman, use the King's love affair to further their own political ends. * * * In a discussion of different genres of poetry, Schiller, in his On Naive and 3 �Sentimental Poetry, considers the characteristics of tragedy and comedy and their relationship to each other. Of the opinion that, in tragedy, a great deal of interest is created simply by the subject matter that, in comedy, has to be supplied by the art of the . . poet, Schiller reflects: Not the sphere from which the subject matter is taken, but the forum before which the poet brings it, makes the same tragic or comic. The tragic poet must beware of calm reasoning and always interest the heart. The comic poet must beware of pathos and always entertain the mind. ... If tragedy, therefore, takes off from a more significant point, one has to concede that comedy heads for a more significant goal and, if it ever were to reach it, would make all tragedy superfluous and impossible. Its goal is one with the highest man strives for, to be free of passion, always to look about and into himself clearly and calmly, to find everywhere more chance than fate and to laugh more about absurdity than to rage or weep about malice (Schiller, V, 724-6). * * *· With a comparable constellation of characters, but the one clearly a tragedy, the other, at least on the face of it, a comedy, Schiller's Don Carlos and Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro, both completed in 1786, in~ite a closer look at the differences between them. Both set in Spain, but Don Carlos in the 16th, The Marriage of Figaro in the 18th century, Schiller's historical tragedy, affecting the life of mankind as a whole, takes place at the court of Philipp II, Mozart's comic opera, affecting but a few individual lives, at the castle of Count Almaviva. Thus, the difference in atmosphere, Don Carlos remote and grand, The Marriage of Figaro contemporary and intimate, contributes to the one being a tragedy, the other a comedy. Against the background of these differences of time and space, the comparability of the two sets of characters appears even more striking. King Philipp and his Queen have their counterparts in Count Almaviva and his Countess, Carlos, the young prince, in Cherubino, the young page, Marquis Posa, the political mastermind, in Figaro, the domestic mastermind, Princess Eboli; the King's favorite, in 4 �Susanna, the Count's favorite, Count Lerma, the court councilor, in Bartolo, the lawyer, Duke Alba, the defender of the realm, in Antonio, the gardener, and last but not least, Domingo, the King's confessor, in Basilio, the priest masquerading as the Count's music master. The only figure in Don Carlos with no counterpart in The Marriage of Figaro is the Grand Inquisitor. Given the difference between tragedy and comedy, what this list suggests is outrageous! How could one ever compare these two sets of dramatic characters? Yet, that is exactly what I intend to do in this lecture. The result, I hope, will be a deeper understanding of both tragedy and comedy. * * * A clue to both Don Carlos and The Marriage ofFigaro, their opening scenes contain already the whole plot to unfold in the rest of each work. Highlighting its title, Schiller's Don Carlos, opening in the royal gardens at Aranjuez, presents the title hero in conversation with Domingo. In his unsuccessful attempt to pry into the Prince's thoughts, the priest touches on Carlos's troubled relationships with his father, with his new mother, and with the political world around him. The scene ends with Carlos's dire premonition of doom and the role of "suspicion's venomed serpent sting" (I, 1, 122-7) in bringing it about. Highlighting its title, Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro, opening in a room between the Count and the Countess's apartments, presents the title hero with Susanna, the couple to be married, in a lively duet, each singing in the same key, but Figaro's music more plodding, accompanying his measuriilg the space for their bed, Susanna's music more fluid, accompanying her showing off her wedding cap. A delightful school for marriage, this duet, after an orchestral introduction of equal eight measures for both Figaro and Susanna, has Figaro sing twelve, Susanna only six measures. Trying to get Figaro's attention, Susanna starts singing his music, but at her speed, only to move him to 5 �switch over to her music. Like in a good marriage, they end up complementing each other in a merry medley of parallel, oblique, and contrary motion, and yes, they do sing her music. Even so, there are obstacles. The Count, intent.on seducing Susanna, Marcellina, Bartolo's old servant, intent on holding Figaro to a marriage contract for his unpaid debts. While the opening duet was in G Major, the opera's key of marriage (I, 1), the duet spelling out the obstacles is in B-flat Major, its key of intrigue (I, 2). In order to get from G Major to B-flat Major one has to darken G Major tog minor, its parallel minor, and then to brighten g minor to B-flat Major, its relative Major. The first operation keeps the tonal center, but changes the key signature, the second operation keeps the key signature, but changes the tonal center. The intricate musical path from G Major to B-flat Major, one of the most frequent moves in this opera, points to the weight of the obstacles to be overcome. Like Schiller's opening of Don Carlos, Mozart's opening of The Marriage of Figaro ends on a note of warning about the venom of suspicion. * * * Our glimpse of the intricacies of Mozart's opening duet invites a moment of reflection on the difference between opera and drama due to the element of music. More stylized than drama, opera enriches the spoken word by multiple layers of meaning through the musical elements of melody, counterpoint, and harmony. Within these, different articulations of time and space, that is, different rhythms, working with or against different meters, provide added insights into dramatic characters and situations. Consonance and dissonance, used in various combinations, are powerful means for underscoring dramatic tension and resolution. The correlation of dramatic themes with musical keys, separated from and connected with each other through the circle of fifths, allows for interesting cross-references not only between different dramatic characters, but 6 �Key to the Keys in Mozart's TheMarriageofFigaro The opera's overall key is D-Major �also between different dramatic moments in the operatic plot. The Major or minor mode, either dominating a whole scene or the one marking critical points within the context of the other, throw light or shadow over the opera's musical l~ndscape. As befits a comic opera, Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro is mostly in Major. The two pieces in minor, the openings to acts three and four, are tinged with comic irony and thus belie their dark shadows. The opening of act three, at the same time the opening of the second half of the opera, overlays one line in minor with another in its relative Major, only to let its parallel Major win out for both lines. We shall come back to the details of this at a later stage. * * * Before embarking on the comparison between Schiller's Don Carlos and Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro, a word ought to be said about Beaumarchais's play of the same . title. A sequel to his The Barber ofSeville, Beaumarchais's The Marriage ofFigaro provides the opera's dramatic plot. First performed in 1784, the play is a highly charged attack on the social and political mores of the day. Even more aggressive than Schiller's vow to "avenge prostituted mankind" and "strike to the soul of a type of man the dagger of tragedy, so far, has only grazed", Beaumarchais's Preface speaks of the theater as "a giant that wounds to the death all it strikes." Seeing the vices of human nature disguised "in a thousand forms under the mask of the ruling mores", he asserts: "to rip off this mask and show them naked, that is the noble task of the man who devotes himself to the theater". Labeling his The Marriage ofFigaro as "more infamous and more seditious" than his The Barber ofSeville, Beaumarchais, sarcastically, exclaims: "Oh, how I regret - not having made this moral subject into a rather bloody tragedy" (Beaumarchais, 27, 28, 30). 7 �* * * The difference between Beaumarchais's play and M_ozart's opera is, however, not only due to the element of music. Lorenzo Da Ponte, Mozart's librettist, certainly follows the play's main line, but changes its tone from a highly political to a deeply personal one. Personal thoughts and feelings, brought to the fore by omissions, additions, or simply alterations of style, create an atmosphere where the characters' expression of themselves is at least, if not more, important than their dramatic interaction. With a rather checkered career, from ordained priest in the Veneto, to Court poet in Vienna, to teacher ofltalian language and literature at Columbia College in New York, Da Ponte, as librettist of Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro, adds a nice touch by poking fun at himself in the figure of Basilio, always played in clerical garb, but with the role of music master at the castle of Count Alma viva. * * * To pick up the thread back into our comparison, let us remember that Schiller's Don Carlos presents us with the conflict between centuries, portrayed in Philipp II and Marquis Posa, Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro with the conflict between classes, portrayed in Count Almaviva and Figaro. In the one we are given the political goal of liberating mankind from the oppressive rule of a mighty monarchy under the iron hand of the Inquisition, in the other the personal goal of pursuing a marriage without the interference of a lecherous aristocrat bored with his wife. The one stuff for tragedy, the other stuff for comedy. A note at the outset: since there are five acts of Schiller's Don Carlos to be compared with four acts of Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro, it seems more fruitful to go back and forth between comparable clusters of scenes rather than to adhere strictly to the more formal boundary of acts. 8 �Even though both works start early in the morning and end late at night, Don Carlos starts in a garden and ends in a closed room, The Marriage of Figaro starts in a closed room and ends in a garden. Implicit in the theme of the garden is, of course, the story of the Garden of Eden. Imbued with the awareness of Good and Evil, and the selfknowledge arising from it, the theme of forgiveness, in Don Carlos finally denied, in The Marriage of Figaro finally granted, is a powerful and moving reminder of that story. A latter day Garden of Eden, complete with the fall of man and God appearing in judgment, the royal gardens at Aranjuez, reminding the Queen of her native France (I, 3), . become the setting for a passionate rendezvous with Don Carlos. Not willing to accept the fate of having lost her to his father, he falls at her feet: "Let them, from here, come drag me to the scaffold! I One moment, fully lived in paradise I ls not atoned too dearly for with death" (I, 5, 638-40). The King, arriving shortly thereafter, finds the Queen alone, without her Ladies in Waiting. Bearing out Carlos's earlier warning about "suspicion's venomed serpent sting" (I, 1), Philipp, in the presence of his courtiers, questions his wife's virtue. Alba's staunch: "Like God's own cherub before paradise I Duke Alba stands before the royal throne" (I, 6, 879-80) only aggravates the emotional tension of the scene. Having been caught with Barbarina, the gardener's daughter, Cherubino, the "little cherub", stumbles in on Susanna to ask the Countess to intercede for him with the angered Count (I, 6). Flustered by Susanna's presence, the young page, in E-flat Major, the opera's key of unhappy love, gives voice to the first stirrings of his heart. Aflutter for all women, he confesses speaking of his love to nature, to the mountains, to the meadows, to the winds, and finally to himself. Compared to the unhappy rendezvous between Don Carlos and the Queen, past, present, and future weighing heavily on their hearts, and presaging tragedy for both of them, this charming interlude between Cherubino and Susanna is the more charming, as the Countess is not there and, therefore, there are no constraints on the boy's outpouring of feelings. The transfiguration from Beaumarchais's 9 �prose text to Da Ponte's rhyming verse pulsates with shimmering light in Mozart's music: the breathless first stanza (the experience oflove) repeated after the second stanza, climaxing on the word "desire", and the third stanza (the experience of love taken out to nature and back to the self) trailing off dreamily. A farcical version of the King's coming upon his wife, with Don Carlos fled from the scene only minutes before, the Count's coming upon his wife's chamber maid, with Cherubino taking refuge behind a chair, leads to a series of hilarious moments: Interrupted in his amorous advances to Susanna by the arrival of Basilio (the nominal "King" of the place), the Count has to hide behind that same infamous chair, with the young page barely able to jump into it from behind, the Countess's gown spread there coming in handy as protective cover. Roused from his hiding place by Basilio's suspicions about Cherubino and the Countess, the Count, in a dramatic B-flat Major, the opera's key of intrigue, calls for the boy's dismissal from the castle (II, 7). The subsequent discovery of Cherubino in the chair, and the Count's realization that the "little serpent" (p. 96) must have overheard his courting of Susanna, make him convert the boy's dismissal into a pardon to join the army. All fired up by Marquis Posa's grand plans for him, Don Carlos vows to ask his father for the comm~nd of the army to Flanders (I, 9). Like a parody of this solemn scene, both at the end of act I, Figaro's send-off-march for Cherubino, in C-Major, the opera's key of resolve, makes mockery of the page turned soldier against his will. The irony is that neither Don Carlos nor Cherubino ever reach their destination. Don Carlos, because Philipp, suspicious of his motives, denies the Prince's request, Cherubino , because Figaro, teeming with intrigue, means for the page, dressed up as Susanna, to go to a rendezvous with the Count in her stead. * * * 10 �After his unsuccessful audience with the King (II, 2) the Prince follows a secret invitation to what he mistakes for the Queen's apartment. A counterpoint to his meeting with the Queen, in the royal gardens, this meeting with Princess Eboli, in the royal palace (II, 8), comes close to an expulsion from paradise. Believing Carlos to be in love with herself, the Princess tries to elicit a confession from him, only to have him own his secret love for another. Disappointed in Carlos's love, and an object of Philipp's lust, Princess Eboli confides in Domingo, the King's solicitor with her (II, 11 ). The plan hatched between the two of them, with Duke Alba in the wings, is for her to break into the Queen's jewelry box in the hope of finding letters there from the Prince (II, 12). Like a release of the Queen's unspoken sorrow, in act I of Schiller's Don Carlos (I, 3-4), the Countess's first aria, in act II of Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro (II, 10), strikes a tragic note. Echoing Cherubino's E-flat Major, the Countess calls on the god of love to restore her loss or to let her die. The orchestral accompaniment's constant slipping in and out of harmony with her tune painfully expresses the vulnerability of her feelings. In his earlier attempt to see the Countess Cherubino had entrusted Susanna with a canzonetta of his (I, 6). In contrast to the young prince who stumbl.es from one tragic encounter, with the Queen, to another, with Princess Eboli, the young page, trembling but happy, gets to sing his canzonetta before the Countess (II, 11). That he is here to be dressed up in Susanna's clothes to go to a rendezvous with the Count --this brainchild of Figaro's, of course, taking place in G Major (II, 12)-- will make for uncomfortable, but also rather comical moments. Like a come-down from tragedy to comedy, Susanna accompanying Cherubino on the guitar is a comical version of Princess Eboli accompanying herself on the lute awaiting Don Carlos. A far cry from the hopeless, wavering harmonies of the Countess's aria, Susanna's playful upward figures on the guitar fully support the boy's melody. Now part of an intrigue, however innocent, Cherubino's encomium on the painful bliss of love, is in B-flat Major, the dominant not only of his, 11 �but also the Countess's (II, 10) first aria. Listening to Cherubino's lovely song, the Countess is lost in her memories of the young Count, from their early days of courtship. Like the King's appearance in the royal gardens, with Don Carlos barely fled from the scene (I, 5), the Count's arrival at his wife's locked door, with Cherubino barely escaped into a closet, unleashes a storm of suspicions (II, 13). Singing in C Major, G Major, and back to C Major (with Susanna's counterpoint from the sidelines), husband and wife engage in a battle of wills over the opening of the closet, the Countess protesting Susanna, the Count suspecting the Countess's lover to hide there. The flare up of temper is the more ludicrous as the Count, not too long ago, had found himself in the same compromising situation as Cherubino now (I, 7). The Count's idea of leaving the room, to fetch some tools for breaking into his wife's closet, but relocking the doors against any escape, gives Susanna and Cherubino a · few precious minutes to find a way out. With more than one marriage at stake, their frantic little duet is sung in a hilariously funny G Major (II, 14). Instead of Don Carlos fleeing out of the garden, leaving footprints and losing his handkerchief, noticed by the gardener and later reported back to the King by Duke Alba (III, 3), Cherubino, ready to jump even into the fire to save the Countess, finally jumps from the balcony into the garden. A fall indeed, but a fall to undo the Fall! A follow-up on the King appearing in the gardens of Aranjuez, the confrontation between Philipp and Elizabeth, coming to demand justice for the break into her jewelry box and the removal of letters and a medallion of the Prince, ends with her finding them in the King's possession and, after a deadly argument over her rights, swooning and bloodying herself in the fall (IV, 9). Very much in the same vein as these scenes from act IV of Schiller's Don Carlos, the Finale of act II of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro (II, 15), echoing some of the more menacing strains of the Overture, moves at a high pitch of emotions. With a noticeable exchange of F Major for G Major, it progresses from E-flat Major (unhappy 12 �love) to B-flatMajor (intrigue) to G Major (marriage) and via C Major (resolve) through F Major (standing one's ground) to B-flat Major (intrigue) and back to E-flat Major (unhappy love). As if modeled on the tense altercation between King and Queen: King: Then blood may flow for all I care -Queen: So far it's come -- oh God! King: I know Myself no more, no longer pay Respect to custom and the voice Of nature and the pacts of nations (IV, 9, 3785-9), the Count, with his sword drawn, is ready to kill the page hiding in his wife's closet. Demanding the key for it, he threatens the Countess with expulsion from his house. To an insistent call of horns in the background, the opening of the closet door, revealing Susanna, throws not only the Count, but also the Countess into confusion. Shifting from E-flat Major to B-flat Major, this second stage of the Finale brings the Count down on his knees, asking for his wife's forgiveness. A more genuine version than his earlier pardon for Cherubino, the Count's confession of guilt, over an altered seventh chord on E-natural, containing G-flat, giving way to his expression of repentance, over a plain seventh chord on E-natural, containing G (mm. 303-6, p. 187), dramatically prepares for the arrival of Figaro and the musicians to play for his wedding with Susanna. With the move heard most often in this opera, back and forth, Figaro's arrival, once more, turns the music scene from B-flat Major to G Major. Taken to task for his anonymous letter about the Count's upcoming rendezvous, Figaro, echoing his own music from the opening duet with Susanna, but now in a pivotal C Major, deftly avoids the issue by pointing to the theater practice of ending a farce with a wedding. The sublime trio of Figaro, Susanna, and the Countess, begging the Count to fulfill their wishes, is undercut by his counterpoint, calling for Marcellina to insist on her marriage contract from Figaro. To make matters worse, the gardener, showing up with a crushed flower pot, 13 �bitterly complains about the fall of a man from the balcony. To save the day, Figaro, exchanging F Major for G Major, claims to have jumped from there himself and, in the fall, musically expressed by a painful chromatic descent, to have sprained his ankle. An ironic reminder of Figaro's earlier F Major stunt (I, 3), offering to teach his master to dance, the Count cries out: "Enough of this dance!" (mm. 581-2, p. 211). Yet, like Don Carlos, fleeing out of the garden, Cherubino, falling into the garden, had lost something. Now in B-flat Major, Figaro, with a bit of help from the women, identifies the papers found in the garden, as Cherubino's commission still in need of the official seal. Returning, once more, to E-flat Major, the Finale comes to a furious climax, with Marcellina, Bartolo, and Basilio joining the Count in his opposition to Figaro, Susanna, and the Countess, over the contested marriage contract between Marcellina and Figaro. Providing no way out, on either side, the first half of the opera ends with all the voices in unison on E-flat, and all the instruments, except for the flute and the clarinet, on E-flat or G. The flute and the clarinet, with their B-flat, the dominant of E-flat, seem rather weak over and against the clamor of all the others on E-flat and G. Translated from the musical into the moral language of the opera: "Intrigue", however dominant throughout, is likely to get lost in the final struggle of "unhappy love" for the fulfillment of "marriage". * * * Bearing out Schiller's claim that the tragedy of Don Carlos would have to tum on "the situation and the character of King Philipp" (Dokumente, 142), the King, after the judgment of his wife in the royal gardens (I, 6) and the rejection of his son in the royal palace (II, 2), more and more emerges as a tragic figure. An older Carlos , warped in the harsh school of political life, he feels exploited by schemers like Alba and Domingo (II, 10-13; III, 3-4). Appealing to Providence for a human being, for a friend that would give 14 �him truth, Philipp, in the center of act III, which, at the same time, is the center of the play as a whole, comes upon the name of Marquis Posa, specially noted for his services to the crown (III, 5). In a riveting sequence of scenes, Medina Sidonia, the admiral returning from the loss of the Armada, is shunned by all the courtiers except Don Carlos (III, 6). The King's entry, ignoring his son, but after a long silence, pardoning the admiral with: "God is over me -- I've sent you I To contend with men, not storms and rocks -- I You're welcome in Madrid" (III, 7, 2878-81 ), presents us with a moving answer to his own appeal. A variant to his earlier rejection of Don Carlos, asking for the command of the army to Flanders: "You speak like one within a dream. This office I Requires a man and not a youth -- " countered by the Prince's: "Requires merely a human being, father" (II, 2, 1174-6), Philipp's overlooking his son who, together with himself, seems to be the only human being in the room (III, 7), constitutes the tragic core of the play. Farthest from their conscious mind: "You see two hostile stars that through I The course of time do touch but once I In shattering head-on collision I And then forever flee apart" (I, 2, 541-5), this kinship between father and son, nevertheless, shows itself in many ways. Both Philipp and Carlos lay claim not only to the love of the same woman, but also to the friendship of the same man. Throughout the play, in crucial moments of decision or recognition, they both use the same characteristic formulations. Called to a special audience with Philipp, Marquis Posa, envisioning himself as sculptor to impart life to the rough stone, reflects on the opportunity of using the King for his own political purposes (III, 9). With Philipp as strangely impressionable listener, the Knight paints a picture of mankind, free from oppression and ready to govern itself: "Man, sure, is more than you supposed. I The bonds of his long slumber he shall break I And once again demand his holy right." (III, 10, 3186-8). Despite the revolutionary tone of Posa's political panegyric, the King is captured by the spectacle of a man who fearlessly speaks his mind. That, in the end, he will insist on employing him as spy for 15 �both the Queen and the Prince is sad proof of an inhuman world under the iron hand of the Inquisition (III, 10). With his eyes on the future of mankind, and his own role in bringing it about, Marquis Posa, losing sight of the present, plays a dangerous game. Using Don Carlos and the Queen, but also, unbeknownst to them, the King, as pawns in his grand plan for the liberation of Flanders, the Knight betrays his own ideals (IV, 3-6; 12-13). On his first introduction, the Queen had welcomed him with: Many courts You've come to in your travels, chevalier, And many countries and men's customs you Have seen -- and now, they say, you have a mind Within your fatherland to .settle for yourself, A greater prince in your own quiet walls Than is King Philipp on his throne -- a free man, A philosopher!" (I, 4, 512-9). True to the first part, the invocation of Homer's Odyssey (Od. I, 1-3, (Berns, Greek Antiquity, 21 and 115, note 4), but not to the second, the closing myth of Plato's Republic (Rep. X, 620c-d), Posa's cosmopolitan moves smack of the idealist who, for the sake of his cause, turns fanatic and ruthlessly tramples over lives (Schiller, Briefe iiber Don Carlos; Seidlin, 34-40). Acting like a god, accountable to no one but himself, Posa, now the King's trusted minister, shares his plans neither with the Prince (IV, 6) nor fully with the Queen (IV, 3). In his growing desperation, Carlos confides in Princess Eboli and, in the act of asking her for access to the Queen (IV, 15), is arrested by the Knight himself (IV, 16). Confronted with the choice of killing Eboli or sacrificing himself, Posa, after a moment's hesitation, chooses the latter (IV, 17). In his farewell to the Queen (IV, 21 ), he counters her "I fear you play a risky game" with "I've lost it... I've lost it for myself1' (IV, 21, 4213-7). A tell-tale sign of the difference between the two friends, Carlos, on hearing of Posa's influence with the King, 16 �had uttered: "Now I have lost him ... I have I Lost him. Oh! Now I am all forsaken" (IV, 13, 3973, 3977-8). His mournful: "He loved me, loved me dearly ... That I I know. Yet should not millions, should I The fatherland not be more dear to him than one?" (IV, 13, 3963-8) will resurface in Philipp's reaction to Posa's betrayal of himself: "I've loved him, loved him dearly ... like a son .. .This youth I For me brought up a new, more glorious morning ... I He was my first, my very first love .. ." (V, 9, 5048-52). Planning for the Prince to escape that very night, Posa, in his farewell to the Queen, entrusts her with his legacy for him. With more and more overtones from the Passion of Christ, he describes his vision of a future paradise on earth, a world worthy to have died for. The Queen's rejoinder: "No! No! I You threw yourself into this deed I You call sublime ... A thousand hearts I May break, but what is that to you, as long I As you may feed your pride?" (IV, 21, 4379-87) leaves him utterly stunned. Too late, his last words to her: "My Queen! -- Oh God! but life is beautiful" (IV, 21, 4393-4) throw a new, richer light into the soul of this stem idealist. Hoping to confound the King, long enough for Carlos to escape, Posa had written to William of Orange, confessing his love for the Queen and his fear of being discovered before he could get away to Brussels (V, 3, 4672-96). Well aware of the King's order to intercept all letters to Flanders (II, 15, 2465-8), he had counted on Philipp's belief in the villainy of human nature (V, 3, 4676-8). What he did not know, however, is the King's reaction. As if in answer to Carlos's earlier: "Oh, force those eyes I That never yet shed tears, to learn to do so, I While you still have time, or else -- or else I You may need to make up for it in some I Dark hour to come" (II, 2, 1080-3, MacDonald, 337), Philipp, on learning of Posa's betrayal, is said to have wept (IV, 23). This scene, in perfect symmetry to Carlos's warning, is the more breathtaking, as it is witnessed but from outside the closed doors of the King's chamber. The stupor of the courtiers assembled there, is broken by Princess Eboli, rushing in, demanding to tell the King the truth about the Prince's letters (IV, 24). With Alba and Domingo gaining the upper hand, however, the 17 �truth comes too late. * * * Compared to the tragic figure of the King, in Schiller's Don Carlos, the figure of the Count, in Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro, is no more than a comic braggadocio. While Philipp's affair with Princess Eboli remains off-stage, in the hands of Domingo (II, 10-13), the Count, taking things out of Basilio's hands, courts Susanna more and more openly (I, 2, rec., pp. 38-40; 6, rec., pp. 76-77; III, sc. 2, pp. 249-50; 16, rec., p. 257). In striking contrast to Figaro and Susanna's G Major duet, at the beginning of the opera (I, 1), the duet between the Count and Susanna, at the beginning of the opera's second half (III, 16), overlays the Count's a minor with Susanna's C Major, both using the same key signature, but different tonal centers. A rare event in this opera, the Count's minor, already undercut by Susanna's Major, is openly contradicted by her text, however much it rhymes with his. Their final agreement on a rendezvous, in a triumphant A Major, the opera's key of selfish passion, uses the Count's tonal center, but a new key signature for both of them. To make matters worse, it is further compromised by Susanna's utterly . confusing "Yes!" and "No!" answers to the Count's arixious questions. Reminiscent of Philipp, brooding over suspicions, roused by the Prince's letters (III, 1-4; 1O; IV, 7-10), Alma viva, by himself, vents his innermost feelings (III, 17). Singing in D Major, the key ofrevenge, but also the overall key of the opera, the Count, in a stormy recitative and aria, echoing the more majestic strains of the Overture, rages about the audacity of his servant, up-staging him in a conquest of love. A match for each other, his fury recalls Figaro's earlier posturing in F Major, the opera's key of standing one's ground. Professing a more playful art form than Posa who, in anticipation of his audience with the King (III, 10), had envisioned himself as sculptor, imparting life to the rough stone (III, 9), Figaro, reacting to Susanna's news about the Count's intentions, had 18 �vowed to teach his master to dance to his music (I, 3). Unlike Posa's visionary plan for rebellion (IV, 3), Figaro's fancy of overturning all machines by using the art of "punching here and teasing there" sounds like fun as well. A farcical variant to Philipp's distraught remark about Count Lerma, the old court councilor, likely to find his wife in his son's embrace (III, 2, 2518-44 ), Figaro's discovery of Bartolo and Marcellina, the old councilor and his former servant, to be his parents (III, sc. 5, pp. 271-2; 18) barely avoids the fate of Oedipus and gives rise to an incredulous merry-go-round with the terms "mother" and "father" throughout the different voice ranges (III, 18). The sextet, like Figaro's earlier and Susanna's later arias, in F Major, clears the way not only for the marriage of the young, but also of the old couple. Much toned down from Beaumarchais's play, where Marcellina's bitter harangue over men's exploitation of women still meets with Bartolo's sarcasms, Mozart's opera, even though in g minor, falling short of G Major, brings the case to a more or less satisfactory conclusion (p. 295). One by one protesting their happiness, the scene ends with a flourish of dissonances gloating over the Count's defeat (mm. 17-9, p. 296). Apprised of the Count's offer of a dowry for Susanna's favors, the Countess, once more, laments the loss of her love (III, 19). Transcending her earlier E-flat Major, the opera's key of unhappy love (II, 10), to C Major, its key of resolve, this beautiful aria, at first, C Major encompassing a core of emotions moving from g minor to G Major, reminisces about the past. But, unlike the Queen, who, in her rendezvous with the Prince, had evaded his insistent questions concerning her love (I, 5, 712-20), the Countess, in the final part of the aria, trusts her hope in the future. A reflection of the Count's a minor overlaid by Susanna's C Major (III, 16), the Countess, after an initial wavering between C Major and c minor, on the words "to change the ungrateful heart", twice overshoots her C Major triad, landing on A, only to cadence with that triad, the A yielding to the dominant G, and finally, on the word "heart", coming home to a triumphant C. 19 �A happier version ofPrincess Eboli's theft of letters from the Queen, the Countess and Susanna, together, write a letter, secretly to be given to the Count during Figaro and Susanna's wedding (III, 20). Superseding Figaro's plot of sending Cherubino, dressed up as Susanna, to the rendezvous, the Countess has decided to take on that role herself. At the rallying point for the opera's finish, the little duet between the Countess and Susanna, an exquisite moment of friendship, has one goal, the Count's change of heart, and therefore one music, though still in B-flat Major, the opera's key of intrigue (III, 20). Stating time and place for the rendezvous in the garden, the Countess leads, Susanna follows. After gradually closing the gaps between giving and taking dictation, the two women, on the words: "well, and the rest he'll understand", start singing together. With a partial reversal of roles, but now overlapping in the process, Susanna and the Countess read over their letter. By singing the same music, but in staggered lines, that is, in different places at the same time, or in the same place at different times, they, as it were, enact the rendezvous with the Count. Compared to Princess Eboli's desperate attempt to open the King's eyes to the truth about the letters she stole from the Queen (IV, 24), Susanna's slipping the letter, written together with the Countess, into the Count's hands during the wedding ceremony, intends to do exactly the opposite. Adding to the contrast, Marquis Posa's lie about his love for the Queen, confided in a letter meant to be delivered into the King's hands, will be the cause of the Knight's murder (V, 3), Figaro dancing with Susanna and laughing about the Count pricking his finger on the needle used to seal the letter, in the end, will teach the schemer not to consider himself fool-proof (III, 22). Sung in C Major, the opera's key ofresolve, the wedding ceremony, at the end of act III, officially seals the marriages of Figaro and Susanna as well as Bartolo and Marcellina, but leaves the problems between the Count and the Countess unresolved. * * * 20 �After the Prince's precipitous arrest, in act IV of Schiller's Don Carlos, Marquis Posa visits him in prison to account for his action (V, 1). Shocked by Carlos's assumption of having been sacrificed for the greater political cause, Posa, too late, realizes his arrogance in using a friend like a pawn in a game. With a pentameter, short by one foot, he confesses: "My edifice I Collapses -- I forgot your heart" (V, 1, 4524-5). In counterpoint to Posa, it is Carlos who, all through the play, speaks and acts most often from the heart. Reminiscent of the pathos of Christ, in the garden of Gethsemane: "Come, let us sit down -- I I'm weary and feel weak" (V, 3, 4114-5, cf. Matthew 26, 38), the Knight outlines his plans for the Prince's escape, to fight for the cause of humanity from Flanders. A conclusion to Carlos's earlier: "Now I have lost him," (IV, 13, 3973) referring to his friend, and Posa's: "I've lost it.. .I've lost it for myself'(IV, 21, 4214-7), referring to his political power play, their exchange in prison: Carlos: God! Then I'm lost! Marquis: You, why you? Carlos : Unhappy man, and you Are lost with me. This monstrous Fraud my father can't forgive. No! That he never will forgive! Marquis : Fraud? Who would tell him It was fraud? Who, can you ask? Carlos: Myselfl (V, 3, 4701-8) leads to the Knight's solemn: "Prepare yourself for Flanders! I Your calling is the kingdom. I To die for you was mine" (V, 3, 4717-9). Carlos's: No!No! ... I want to take you to him. Ann in arm we'll go to him. Father, I'll say, a friend has done this For his friend. It'll move him. Trust me! He's not without humanity, my father. Yes, sure, it'll move him. 21 �His eyes will shed warm tears, and you And me he will forgive -- (V, 3, 4718-28) is answered by a shot through the prison's wrought-iron door and Posa's death. Part of the tragedy is that neither Posa nor Carlos know that the King, to the awestruck horror of his courtiers, did weep -- but at the discovery of the Knight's betrayal of himself. (IV, 23). * * * At the start of act IV, the last act of Mozart's opera, to be mostly compared with act V, the last act of Schiller's dramatic poem, Barbarina, the gardener's daughter, in love with Cherubino, but here on an errand for the Count, laments the loss of the pin that had sealed Susanna's letter (IV, 23). In confirmation of the rendezvous, later that night, the seal was supposed to be returned to the letter writer. Sung in f minor, the darkest key in the opera, and the only other minor besides the Count's a minor, at the start of act III, the opening of the opera's second half, the little girl's "I've lost it..." bewails more than the loss of that unfortunate pin. Echoing the Countess's earlier "Where are the beautiful moments ... " (III, 19) Barbarina's sobbing "ah, who knows where it might be" is set in mock tragic style. Compared to the tragic loss Marquis Posa and Don Carlos mourn, this is, at best, tragicomedy. Figaro, coming upon the scene with Marcellina and being told of the Count's commission, quickly finds a pin in Marcellina's bonnet and sends the girl on her way. His reaction to the disturbing news: "Mother -- I am dead .. .I am dead, I say" (rec. p. 342) not only sounds like a comical take-off on Marquis Posa's death, but also like a re-enactment of the scene between Achilleus and Thetis, in book I of Homer's Iliad (I, 348 ff.). Outdoing Achilleus, who complains to his mother about Agamemnon having taken his girl, Figaro is angered with Susanna as well as with the Count. In Bartolo's phrase, from his earlier revenge aria (I, 4), Marcellina's "the case is serious" (p. 342) 22 �advises Figaro of his right to be on his guard and entertain suspicions, but no more. Her use of" a right", recalling the Count's "right of the first night" to be acted on presently with Susanna, has an ominous ring in this opera. Yet, the fact that Bartolo's aria, in D Major, was in its overall key as well, suggests caution in taking the theme of revenge too narrowly. A late repercussion of Beaumarchais's play, Marcellina's aria in act IV, defending Susanna against Figaro's suspicions, pits the free and easy lovemaking of animals against the cruelty of men (IV, 24). A revision of her cat fight duet with Susanna, in A Major, five numbers from the beginning of the opera, this aria, in G Major, five numbers from its end, not only makes G Major, the opera's key of marriage, triumph over A Major, its key of selfish passion, but also adds a human touch by letting Marcellina express her feelings in coloraturas reminiscent of Handel, the style in vogue when she was young. Her insistent rhyme between "liberty", for the animals, and "cruelty", for men, whether true to life or not, hints at the tragedy hidden behind the comedy. Unaware of the women's change of plan, from Cherubino to the Countess, dressed-up as Susanna, to go to the rendezvous with the Count, Figaro swears to take revenge for all husbands (I, 26 cf. p.343). With an aria in E-flat Major, the opera's key of unhappy love, and the call of horns in the background, the newly-wed husband rails against the heartlessness of women. As if to give the lie to this tirade, Susanna, in F Major, the opera's key of standing one's ground, sings a beautiful aria about her expectation of the fulfillment of love. Unlike Princess Eboli who, after her theft of letters from the Queen, and her affair with the King, had been punished with exile to a nunnery, Susanna, after writing a letter together with the Countess, changing clothes with her, and fooling the Count about agreeing to a rendezvous, revels in the loveliness of the evening (IV, 27). Reminiscent of Cherubino's first song (I, 6), his heart aflutter for all women, and speaking of his love not only to nature, but also to himself, Susanna's aria, describing the romantic resonance 23 �between herself and the balmy night, more maturely, is meant for but one beloved. Even so, I suspect that her words have more to do with her own feelings than with Figaro. * * * In his devastation over the betrayal of Marquis Posa, the one man from whom he expected truth (V, 9), the King is further crushed by his son's confession that he and Posa were friends, nay brothers: "Yes, Sire, we two were brothers, brothers by I A nobler bond than nature's crafting" (V, 4, 4791-2). Taunting Philipp with his paltry attempt at friendship with a man in love with the whole of mankind, Carlos exclaims: Oh no -- that was no man for you! That he himself knew well, when he Rejected you with all your crowns. This finely stringed lyre broke Within your iron hand. You could Do naught but murder him (V, 4, 4816-20). With a deeper understanding of Posa's character than Carlos could fathom, Philipp's disappointed love turns to savage hatred: "Let him have died a fool. And let his fall I Bring down his century with his friend ... I He sacrificed me to his idol, mankind, I Let mankind, therefore, pay for him" (V, 9, 5075 - 86). No match for these dark scenes with the King, in act V of Schiller's Don Carlos, the Count's flare-up of temper, vowing to be revenged on Figaro for upstaging him in a conquest of love, lies as far back as the early scenes in act III of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro (III, 17). In keeping with tragedy, Schiller's play, towards the end, turns darker and darker, in keeping with comedy, Mozart's opera lighter and lighter. A farcical counterpart to Domingo, the King's confessor, present at every turn of the dramatic action, Basilio, the meddling priest, masquerading as music master at the castle of Count Alma viva, finally gets to confide his own personal Credo (IV, 25). Rather unmusical, with plain quarter notes stalking all over the place, and cheap sound 24 �effects thrown in here and there, his aria, no surprise, is in B-flat Major, the opera's key of intrigue. Created in the image of Mozart's learned librettist, Basilio recounts a dantesque scene, where Lady Flemma, his Muse (alias Vergil) presented him with the smelly hide of a donkey to ward off the vicissitudes of life, be they stormy weather to hide from, or wild beasts to repel with the nasty cover. That cover I take to be Basilio's clerical garb. Emerging from the cover of Domingo, the Grand Inquisitor, at the end of Schiller's Don Carlos, asserts his authority (V, 10-11 ). A perverted form of Teiresias, the blind prophet in Sophocles's Antigone (Berns, "Idealism us'', 71-2; "Idealism", 51-2), who urges Kreon to restore the dead to the dead and the living to the living, the Grand Inquisitor demands the dead to be called back to the living and the living to be surrendered to the dead. In his outrage over the murder of Marquis Posa, a sacrifice to mere passion rather than the greater glory of the church, the Grand Inquisitor condemns Philipp's illicit involvement with this heretic. The reason behind the summons of the Grand Inquisitor had been the King's indecision whether to let Carlos escape or have him die. His question: "Can you create for me a new religion I That would defend the bloody murder of a child?" (V, 10, 5265-6) the old priest silences with: "To expiate eternal justice I The son of God died at the cross" (V, 10, 5267-8). Philipp's retort: "I outrage I Nature -- this mighty voice as well I You want to stifle?" elicits only: "Before the faith I No voice of nature counts" (V, 10, 5270-4). The King's final: "He is my only son - for whom I Pray, have I gathered?" meets with the Grand Inquisitor's inhuman: "For moldering decay rather than I Freedom" (V, 10, 5276-8). In order to facilitate his escape, the Queen had asked Carlos for a final farewell, in which she could impart Marquis Posa's legacy to him. Midnight approaching, he _ was supposed to come in the mask and monk's attire of Charles V, whose ghost the guards had seen more than once and let pass reverently (V, 6; 9). As if in keeping with his earlier notion of political life as a masked ball, the masks of conventional inequality 25 �belying the natural equality of the faces hidden beneath (I, 9), Carlos had agreed to play this role chosen for him by the Queen. Their meeting, holding each other in a solemn embrace, comes to a close with the Prince reaching for his i:nask. In the background, without their notice, the King, together with the Grand Inquisitor and some of the courtiers, had entered the dark room. The Prince's: "I go to challenge Philipp I To open combat... I Let this have been my last I Deceit" is answered by Philipp's: "It is your last!" and the Queen's dead faint in Carlos's arms (V, 11, 5361-6). The play ends with the King's (coldly and quietly to the Grand Inquisitor): "Cardinal! I've done my part. Do you do yours". * * * Even though both works start early in the morning and end late at night, Schiller's Don Carlos starts in a garden and ends in a closed room, Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro starts in a closed room and ends in a garden. Beginning and ending in D Major, the key of revenge, but also the overall key of the opera, the Finale of act IV is, at the same time, the Finale of the work as a whole (IV, 28). With a symmetrical sequence of D Major, G Major, E-flat Major, B-flat Major, G Major, D Major, yet with the middle apparently disturbed, the Finale of act IV, gives us a panoramic review of the opera. Two by two, its major characters pass before our eyes, with the others hidden in the shadows of the garden, ready to emerge at more or less opportune moments. Instead of Don Carlos, asking Princess Eboli for access to the Queen, and, in the r process, being arrested by Marquis Posa (IV, 15-16), Cherubino, on his way to Ba_barina, stumbles in on Susanna, or so he thinks, sitting in the evening breeze under the pine trees, as agreed upon in the famous rendezvous letter. The lady sitting there is, of course, the Countess, dressed up as Susanna. Unlike Don Carlos who, at the end, appears in the mask of Charles V, the historical exponent of the Holy Roman Empire, Cherubino, at the 26 �end, is himself again. Even when dressed up as a girl, at various points in the opera (II, 12; III, 21 ), it was never his face that was disguised. Deathly afraid that the Count would find her in this compromising situation and still tum the co!11edy, in Beaumarchais's words, into" a rather bloody tragedy", the Countess tries to repel the amorous advances of the young page who, taking her for Susanna, complains: "And why can I not do what the Count, shortly, will do with you?" (p. 384). In hilarious, multiple confusion, the kiss meant for Susanna, is intercepted by the Count showing up at this moment, the slap in the face to pay for it, by Figaro, sticking his head in to see what is going on. Different from the tragic consequences of Princess Eboli stepping in for the Queen, or Marquis Posa for Don Carlos, the Countess, stepping in for Susanna, or Figaro for Cherubino, has uncomfortable, but never more than comic consequences. Changing from D Major, the overall key of the opera, to G Major, its key of marriage, the dalliance between the Count and the Countess, the husband taking his wife's soft skin for that of her chambermaid and meaning to further his affair by slipping a diamond ring on her finger, is more heartrending than apparent to either eye or ear. With a drastic switch from G Major to E-flat Major, the opera's key of unhappy love, the scene turns to Figaro musing on his role of the new Vulcan of the century, lying in wait to catch Venus and Mars in his net. Coming upon Susanna, dressed up as the Countess, he means to lead her to the compromising scene as well. Doing better than the Count, with his wife's soft skin, Figaro catches on to Susanna's voice, but, for the fun of it, takes advantage of the dark and proceeds to court his lady. After a sally of slaps in the face from Susanna's hand, and his confession of having recognized her voice, their E-flat Major, happily, but still cautiously, slips into B-flat Major. As if in answer to the Count's earlier: "What is this comedy?", meaning Figaro's appearance with the musicians to play for the wedding (I, 8, p. 100), the young couple, expressing their newly won delight in each other, finish with a frolicking "Let's put an end to this comedy, my darling" (p. 411). For the last time returning from B-flat Major to G Major, Figaro's act of 27 �shamelessly courting the Countess is stopped in its track by the irate Count. Deaf to the entreaty of the whole cast, emerging from the bushes, he, with a dozen savage "No"s, bluntly refuses any pardon for Figaro. More genuinely thai:i in the Finale of act II, the Count is brought to his knees by the quiet voice of the Countess, once more speaking in her own person. His plea for forgiveness, with an unstable rising 6th, from '5' to .~ followed by an even more unstable rising 7th, from S'to ~is answered by her stable I\ A rising fifth, from 1 to 5, which, even more stable for being sung twice, comes to a cadence on words reminiscent of the marriage vow. Compared to Schiller's Don Carlos, where the only moment of forgiveness, Philipp's pardon for Medina Sidonia, the admiral returning from the loss of the armada, is tucked away in the very center of the dramatic poem (III, 7), Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro, from act to act, presents us with more and more genuine forms of it. A touching reminder of the serpent in the Garden of Eden, Cherubino, cursed by the Count as "little serpent" (p. 96), but made fun of by Basilio as "little cherub of love" (p. 79), in the end, is openly paired with Barbarina, the little girl who wanted him for a husband, and in return for the favor, promised the Count to love him like her kitten (III, 21, rec.). In contrast to the close of Schiller's Don Carlos, with the Queen in the arms of Don Carlos, in a dead faint, and the King collaborating with the Grand Inquisitor, all the characters in Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro, except for Basilio, by the Finale, are paired more or less happily. Basilio, a far cry from Domingo, grown to monstrous height in the figure of the Grand Inquisitor, at the end of the opera, simply has melted into the crowd. Count and Countess reunited, at least for now, the confusion felt by everyone gives way to a sublimely beautiful chorus of universal contentment. Very different from the last scene of Schiller's Don Carlos, where the icy silence, surrounding the Grand Inquisitor, fills the dark room more and more with horror, the last scene of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro erupts into a happy rush of revelers, off to a grand feast, the fireworks in the background lighting up the night over the dark garden. 28 �A moment of suspense, the transition between the solemn G Major of the Count and Countess's reunion and the exuberant D Major of the happy crowd at the end, once more reminds us of the pain lived through to reach this point. W~th a halting descent, pianissimo and in unison, except for the flute and the oboe, hovering above, a dominant 7th chord on A, over the words "this day", lands us in d minor instead of D Major. A scream of dissonances, however fleeting, an inverted 9th chord on G-sharp, the seventh degree of A, highlights the grammatical link "of' in "this day a/torments, of caprices, and of madness", expressed again in a tensed minor. The completion of the sentence: "only love can end in happiness and joy" finally allows for the transition from the darker d minor to the brighter D Major. Like the effect of a Deus ex machina, in Greek tragedy, forcing a solution to unsolvable human predicaments, this transition makes for the happy ending, but does not do away with the painful personal and political problems of the opera. A skeptical reminder of the contrary to fact condition in Schiller's: "If comedy ever were to reach its goal, it would make all tragedy superfluous and impossible," the all-too-happy rush from the dark garden to the lit up castle, musically expressed in hurtling towards a cadence, has a hollow ring to it. Knowing full well that "his whole being" was set on "writing tragedies", Schiller himself (with the possible exception of Wallenstein's Camp) never wrote a comedy. More in tune with Socrates's notion, at the end of Plato's Symposium, that a poet of tragedies should be able to write comedies as well, Mozart, in this comic opera, subtitled "The Mad Day", lets the serious shine through the ludicrous, and thus creates a sublime version of that rare marriage between tragedy and comedy. A lecture (with music) delivered September 17, 2004 at St. John's College, Annapolis, Maryland. 29 �REFERENCES Schiller, Friedrich. 1974 5 . Samtliche Werke, ed. Gerhard Fricke und Herbert G. Gopfert, Hanser, Milnchen. _ _ _ .Don Carlos, Vol. II, pp. 7'.'"219. _ _ _ . Briefe iiber "Don Carlos", Vol. II, pp. 225-67. ____ . Uber naive und sentimentalische Dichtung, Vol. V, pp. 694-780. Schiller, Friedrich. 1976. Don Carlos, Erlauterungen und Dokumente, ed. Karl Pornbacher, Reclam, Stuttgart. Schiller. 1998. Five Plays, translation by Robert David MacDonald, absolute classics, London. Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus. 1979. The Marriage of Figaro (Le Nozze di Figaro) in Full Score, Dover, New York. Beaumarchais. 1977. Le Mariage de Figaro, ed. Pol Gaillard, Bordas, Paris. Heine, Heinrich. Die romantische Schule (1833), in Samtliche Werke, Vol. VII, Hesse, Leipzig. (Unless otherwise noted, translations are my own.) 30 �Berns, Gisela N. 1985. Greek Antiquity in Schiller's "Wallenstein", Studies in the Germanic Languagers and Literatures, Vol. 104, Universitv of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill. - - - -. 1990. "Moderner und antiker 'Idealismus': Schiller's Don Carlos und Sophokles' Antigone", in Zeitschrift far deutsche Philologie, Vol. 109, Sonderheft: "Schiller Aspekte neuerer Forschung", ed. Norbert Oeller, pp. 41-76. (An earlier English version: '"Idealism'; Ancient and Modem: Sophocles' Antigone and Schiller's Don Carlos", in The St. John's Review, Vol. 39, Number 3 (1989-90), pp. 51-9. Jamison Allenbrook, Wye. 1983. Rhythmic Gesture in Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, pp. 71-94. Farrand, Max, ed. 1966. The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, Vol. II, Yale University Press, New Haven. Kammen, Michael, ed. 1986. The Origins of the American Constitution, A Documentary History, Penguin, New York. Morris, Richard B. 1985. Witnesses at the Creation: Hamilton, Madison, Jay and the Constitution, New American Library, New York. Seidlin, Oskar. 1960. "Schiller, Poet of Politics'', in A Schiller Symposium, ed. Leslie Willson, University of Texas, Austin, pp. 31-48. 31 �NOTES For the deepest commentary on Don Carlos see Schiller, Briefe iiber Don Carlos, and Oskar Seidlin, "Schiller Poet of Politics". For a beautiful, comprehensive study of Mozart's The Marriage ofFigaro, see Wye JamisonAllanbrook. 32 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 33 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Towards "a new birth of freedom" - Tragedy and comedy, 1786 Schiller's Don Carlos and Mozart's The marriage of Figaro. Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on September 17, 2004 by Gisela Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Gisela N. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004-09-17 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a title="Audio recording" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1080">Audio recording</a> Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 74317 Subject The topic of the resource Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805. Don Carlos Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 1756-1791. Nozze di Figaro. Tragedy Comedy Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/e47061388ee04bdbd9ab6c5e47b069d4.mp3 e5568267171d0615dc6ee5b51fa16152 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data cassette tape Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 01:46:33 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Towards "A New Birth of Freedom" - Tragedy and Comedy, 1786: Schiller's Don Carlos and Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on September 17, 2004, by Gisela Berns as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Berns, Gisela N. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2004-09-17 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College has been given permission to make this item available online. Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Relation A related resource <a title="Typescript" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1081">Typsecript</a> Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bib # 74602 Subject The topic of the resource Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805. Don Carlos Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus, 1756-1791. Nozze di Figaro. Tragedy Comedy Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/d3d838bcb78889d23d0936809007c4c4.pdf 311878a4a50e50278162e3989b29e743 PDF Text Text a Peter Kalkavage 6 November 2015 St. John's College Annapolis "Music, too, is nature." Victor Zuckerkandl, Sound and Symbol explores texts I differences between two perspectives on music: one ancient, chosen are a dialogue of the year, and Schopenhauer's The freshmen as Representation, a great book not on the program. Each of these works presents an all- cosmology-that highlights the embracing account contrast as it relates to also arts, it plays in cosmological optimism. According to Timaeus, art of Becoming is a goodness of possible worlds. cosmological pessimism, according to the world is not the shining forth of intelligent purpose but the work of a blind urge that Schopenhauer calls the will. Music, Schopenhauer, is the most potent arts because it is a "copy [Abbild] �of the will itself.'' In the third part of my talk I offer, by way of a coda, some thoughts on music and world in the context of the Bible. Part One. Rootedness and Musicality The Timaeus is Plato's most overtly musical work. Music is prominent in other dialogues as well, notably the Republic and Laws, and in the Phaedo, where Socrates calls philosophy "the greatest music" (61A); of the Timaeus that it is so much a part form and substance dialogue may be said to be all about music. The projected drama of the Timaeus is a performance by three illustrious political men, whose task is to entertain Socrates a feast Hermocrates of Sicily and Critias of Athens. A speech: Timaeus of Italy, was supposed to have joined them, but he is a no-show. The men who did show up form a trio of poet-rhetoricians, who have to previous day, engaged the words LIV.U.V.LU. his described on the deeds of war officially Critias, who boasts about how he star of the show is harmonize the particulars of Socrates' speech Athens of But Timaeus upstages Critias his long speech about Critias claims, cosmos and proves the superior poet. How can one top a magnificent, richly detailed speech about the whole cosmologies to come? IS Timaeus, we hear about the importance of music human communal as Critias recollects what his great-grandfather and namesake experienced when was a young boy. This Critias joined other boys in a music contest in which they sang 2 �poems recently composed by the lawgiver Solon (21B). contest was part of the boys' initiation into their family tribe and took place during a festival in honor of Dionysus, god of intoxication. It depicts the very mo1nent in which impressionable youths are officially rooted opinions of their tribe, and by extension city. Through the act of singing, the take root in these young souls and become authoritative. They become things not merely heard obeyed but imbibed, incorporated and cherished. ritual enrooting is at work, as we shall see, similar the speech of Timaeus. dangerous. Because music has the power to shape the soul for good or to make it an account one of its prime components. as one point Socrates tells us "So, Glaucon ... isn't this nurture Because and concord most of to passage underscores is crucial treats to intimacy Aristotle realize seems to verges on listener to beginning of his Metaphysics dear most reveals sight is the privileged sense, differences of things. one we hearing can another kind of privilege. Music has an intense personal inwardness, an immediate 3 most to �emotional effect and a power to form our character, opinions and way of life. In moving our affections it moves our whole being. This is the ground of the danger that music poses. In music there is no safe distance between perceiver and perceived, as there is in sight. There is also no refuge: we cannot turn away from music as we can from a thing seen, since music is not spatially bounded but sounds everywhere. Moreover, in listening to a piece of music, we are not free to survey its parts at will, as we can with an object that is seen, but must wait for a moment to sound. 2 The tones come when they want to. And yet, listening to music is more than mere passivity, for it affects us by virtue of its forms and structures. Listening, in other words, is an act, in which we not only feel but also perceive. This is the paradox that is music, which can overwhelm our reason and self-control but always through the order and precision of its tones and rhythms. To borrow terms made famous by Nietzsche, music could not be Dionysian if it were not thoroughly Apollinian, which it must be if it is to be an art at all. As I mentioned earlier, Timaeus' speech---{)r, as he famously calls it, his "likely story'' (29D)- is an effort to put the world of Becoming in the best possible light. It is a defence of Becoming in response to Socrates' indictment in the Republic. In that dialogue Socrates tells Glaucon that genuine education turns the soul away from Becoming or flux and toward the changeless realm of Being (7 .518C). It leads the potential philosopher out of the cave of opinion and up into the sunlight of truth. The likely story takes us in the opposite direction-from Being down to Becoming. It tells us how a craftsman-god, who is without envy and very ingenious, and who gazed on archetypal Being, brought order to the primordial chaos through a combination of providence and the beautiful structures of mathematics. Timaeus calls his speech both a mythos or story and a logos or account. 4 �Socrates calls it a nomos, which in Greek means law and song, as as custom and convention (29D). The word implies that Timaeus' cosmology is a form of quasi-political music. This music establishes our right relation to the cosmic whole whose offspring we are. It makes us law-abiding citizens of the world-good cosmopolitans. By playfully reenacting the birth of the cosmos, Timaeus is attempting to persuade his listeners, Socrates . ,. . . . , ................. that the world of body and ...,_.__u_y_._._......._'U,..._..._ songs and praise. properly understood, is worthy our the mathematical constructions and stories are commemorate the Great Founding. "singing" we celebrate our cosmic roots. Moreover, since songs of law and order, for Timaeus is a god (34B), truest act story. Musical references abound in the primordial chaos is said to stars resembles a choric dance unmusical or out of tune (30A), proper sway (52C-53A). g1ves cyclic movement: sway is evident our solids is also music. observable properties water greatest musical moment story is the construction musical scale out of ratios of whole numbers (35A-36B). It is based on the Pythagorean discovery that intervals that make melody--octave, perfect fifth, perfect fourth, etc.-are 5 �produced by string-lengths that are in small whole number ratios. Much can be said about the god's act of scale building, especially in light of the problem it solves, namely, the natural incompatibility of some intervals with others. Here I must rest content with a brief summary. Timaeus' god builds the world soul out of musical ratios, having first mixed together forms of Being, Same and Other. He then cuts and bends the scale-strip to form rotation of the celestial sphere and the orbits of the planets (36B). These periodic movements, which constitute time, are not only the music in the sky but also reflections of divine thought, whose image we carry around in our sphere-shaped heads. For Timaeus, musicality is the sum of human virtue and the ground ofhappiness. By musicality I mean the adjustment of all our actions to regular, periodic movements of the heavens. To be virtuous and happy is to conform to the cosmic law and to move sync with the music of the whole. It is to live a life that is in every respect well timed, a star. ourselves to study, we also make sure we get enough rest and physical exercise (88A). The most essential human musicality comes from astronomy. This is not because is most motions, to discern the ratios heavens, the sky, is to be one with that condition of intellectual health and consummate musicality enjoyed perpetually by the world soul. I said that also the story of a fall. story is a song the book of Genesis, there is creation and it is in the Timaeus creation is fall. As I noted earlier, world building starts at the top and goes down-just like a Greek musical scale. It goes from Being to Becoming and from the best things in 6 �the world to the worst. The lower, subhuman animals are generated by intellectual devolution. This is the process which human beings lose their divine intelligence by having lived an acosmic, disorderly life and must re-enter Becoming suited to an animal form moral and intellectual degradation. The likely story begins the heavens and ends with shellfish, creatures that contain the souls of humans who in their Timaeus calls a "total lack of musicality" (92B). 3 previous lives exhibited these lowest beings enhance the beauty even whole, since without them the cosmic scale would lack its lowest notes and be incomplete. to own star. our souls originated as pure intellects, each living being disordered. its offbeing star-lords and become mindless, inarticulate babies, beings incapable of controlling any of their recover IS ""~""11 ''"''''"' ..... !-f.LU.JLU-...:>~ because it is return to our roots sky (90A). It is also highest at comes as the guide and navigator daily We astronomy so by "imitating the wander-stricken ourselves" (47C). The gods gave us music "not IS the purpose of irrational pleasure ... but as an ally to it's become untuned, for the purpose of bringing the soul into arrangement and concord herself' (47D-E). 7 �On this note of music as therapy, I conclude the first part of my talk. I now turn to a very different account of music and world. Part Two. From Divine Circles to the Wheel of Ixion: Music in a World of Woe The first and main volume of The World as Will and Representation is divided into four books. 4 Thomas Mann, the greatest admirer of Schopenhauer in the 20th century, called it "a symphony in four movements." 5 Mann, himself a cosmological pessimist, was keenly sensitive to the role that music plays in the work. In his essay on the philosopher, he observes that Schopenhauer, who was very musical, "celebrates music as no thinker has ever done" by making music metaphysically significant. Mann proceeds to speculate: "Schopenhauer did not love music because he ascribed such a metaphysical significance to her, but rather because he loved her." For Mann, will rather than intellect is the source of Schopenhauer' s metaphysics of music, where will signifies everything in us.born of passion and feeling. The supremacy of will over intellect is the most important respect in which the world of Schopenhauer differs from the world of Timaeus. As its title indicates, The World as Will and Representation depicts the world as having two distinct sides or aspects. One side, representation, is the topic of Book One. As representation or Vorstellung, the world is everything that is vorgestellt, "placed before" us and made present in the daylight of consciousness. Although a more accurate rendering of the word would be "presentation," which suggests original coming-topresence as opposed to derivative imitation, I have chosen to keep the traditional term. Representation is the realm of perceived objects- finite determinate things and all their properties, which appear in space and time and interact according to the principle of 8 �sufficient reason, that is, through the relation of cause and effect. Representation is the world as a well-ordered surface. It is what most of us would call the world simply. Schopenhauer turns to the other, inner aspect of the world in Book Two. He uses ofPure Reason: whereas representation is the world as terms from Kant's appearance or phenomenon, will is the world as thing-in-itself or noumenon. Will, here, is not a psychic faculty. It is not is no God. or God's or your since for Schopenhauer is the universal force and infinite striving that underlies all things and rises to self-awareness in man. Schopenhauer calls the will "eternal becoming, endless flux" (164). As the world's "innermost being" and "kernel" (30-31), will is the source of meaning (98-99). 6 Will reminds us that is more than cool perception of objects: it is also feeling and care. Objects of representation are vessels of my care. They to me in are meaningful, sorts of ways. This object I desire and strive to one I one I one I despise. ...,..__l.JlVV'-&..U.. .....'-"·""··..... of my care. It is and which I care about to I seemingly concrete a thousand ways. "'""""·'T,.,..,,,..... striving to be and to dreams even creatures care. to nr;::~CP.1n7P. I cannot escape striving, not even when I sleep, for it is more waking are that representations matter to me hopes, anxieties desires made private movie, often a surreal one. Most of us would say that as a human being certain nature I am subject to this care. Schopenhauer is far more radical: care, this infinite striving to be to live as this individual with this body. 9 are a a I am �Dreams are to desire what the whole phenomenal realm is to the noumenal wilL Schopenhauer reminds us repeatedly that what we call life is a dream. The will is not the cause of the world, since causality operates only within the dream world of phenomena or appearances. There is no intelligible principle or intelligent god (as there is for Timaeus) that is responsible for the natural order. Nature is unaccountably there, just as human beings are unaccountably there, "thrown" into existence. The will does not cause nature but rather objectifies itself as nature-just as our care objectifies itself in dreams. Hence the phrase, "the world as will and representation." The self-objectification of the will is basis ofSchopenhauer's cosmology. The will objectifies itself in a fourfold way: as inorganic nature, plant life, animal life and human life. Schopenhauer constructs an ingenious isomorphism or analogy between these four grades of nature and the tones that make up the major triad with its octave (153). The work of the will is especially case are so many ways our objectifies itself: "Teeth, gullet, and intestinal canal are objectified hunger; the genitals are objectified sexual impulse; grasping hands and nimble feet correspond to the more This lS parts, which are mythically represented as manifesting, and ministering to, our souls. whereas Timaeus is tongue-in-cheek, Schopenhauer is in deadly earnest. and meaning shows As Schopenhauer writes is metaphysically significant. another work, music, especially melody, "speaks not of things but simply of weal and woe as being for the will the sole realities." 7 From the standpoint of the will, being is meaning. Music is unique among the arts because it depicts the inner 10 �world of care- pure meaning apart from all objectivity. It represents not the rational world soul but the passionate world heart. 8 Music, moreover, is not an elitist Pythagorean who speaks only to her learned inner circle but rather the "universal language" that is "instantly understood by everyone," intuitively and without the aid of concepts (256). In my account of the Timaeus I highlighted the therapeutic function of astronomy and music, both of which minister to fallen man. They are a corrective to the cosmic necessity of our having been born as mortal beings subject to mortal flux and mindless desire (42A ff.). Being born, for Timaeus, is in one sense a gift- the gift of organic life. But it is also, for the reasons I mentioned, our burden and our fate. Being born is a mixed blessing. For Schopenhauer it is an outright curse. To be born is to become an egocentric individual afflicted with insatiable desire, in particular sexual desire. To be is to be subject to "the miserable pressure of the will" (196). The will, as I noted earlier, is infinite striving-striving with no ultimate good or end. Moments of contentment and joy appear, but only as passing tones, ripples in a sea of frustration, ennui and renewed desire. To live is to suffer. Schopenhauer here reveals the hard edge of his pessimism and his "tragic sense oflife."9 He cites approvingly poets like Calderon who defme original sin as "the guilt of existence itself," and who affirm that it would be better never to have been born. 10 Schopenhauer' s recurring image of life as suffering is the wheel of Ixion. Ixion was King of the Lapiths. After being shown hospitality by Zeus, he lusted after Hera and tried to seduce her. For this attempted outrage Zeus bound Ixion on a wheel of fire and consigned him to Tartarus. Only once did the wheel of torment stop-when Orpheus descended to the Underworld and charmed its inhabitants with his song. 11 This, for 11 �Schopenhauer, is the human therapy that all fine art offers, in particular the art of music. Music represents the will as thing-in-itself, meaning apart from all things and pictures, and is for this reason metaphysically significant. But music also gives us momentary relief from the fiery wheel on which we are bound, the wheel of infinite longing. In music, as in all aesthetic contemplation, we are no longer self-interested individuals but will-less subject[s] of knowing," subjects who are "lost in the object" (209). In art, as Schopenhauer puts it, "We celebrate the Sabbath of the penal servitude of willing; the wheel ofixion stands still" (196). The third part of Schopenhauer' s book is devoted to the arts, which are beyond principle of sufficient reason. is evident in music, where tones, though tightly connected, have no causal relation to each other. opening phrase of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, for example, does not cause the second. 12 Unconcerned with causality Schopenhauertakes Plato, for the most part from Timaeus. Ideas are the eternal archetypes nature-the four grades of the will's self-objectification that I mentioned earlier. 13 In are of experience. Shakespeare's plays, example, are jealousy of Othello and tragic integrity of Cordelia, we behold archetypes of will at its highest grade. 14 Art is therapeutic because, as the aesthetic contemplation of universal Ideas, art detaches us objects our care. lS we take pleasure in even the saddest music, which calls upon us not to weep but to listen. Art, however, is not an enduring release from Ixion' s wheel and offers only "occasional consolation" (267). The fourth part of Schopenhauer' s book takes us from 12 �artist to saint, who alone is truly happy-if one can call resignation happiness. saint has neutralized the will to be and to live through the knowledge that objects of care are nothing but illusion (45 the saint good. He needs no artworks. This neutralization of the will makes obliteration of his ego, he is released from his private sufferings and free to take compassion on the suffering of other human beings and even on that of animals (372). I now tum to Schopenhauer5 s metaphysics of music, which appears in Volume One ofhis book and again Volume Two. These chapters ""''-'..._. . . . u ..u. of truth, indeed the deepest truth: language that most fascinating composer reveals the profoundest wisdom in a reasoning faculty does not understand, just as a magnetic somnambulist gives information about things she has no conception when she is awake" (260). I begin with tones are and gentleness, and also of courage and moderation and all the opposites of these and lp states of character" (8.5). ) different placement steps scales. the soul "a moderate and settled condition," whereas the Phrygian "inspires." A difference mode can be heard our familiar opposition of "bright" major and "dark" 13 �minor. This huge musical difference hinges on no more than whether there is a whole step or a half between the second and third degrees of the scale. It is gratifying to hear Schopenhauer, a philosopher, respond to this fact with fitting amazement (261 ). What Timaeus and Schopenhauer add to the imitative relation between music and soul is the connection between music and world. We are responsive to music because the so-called external world has an interior, as do we, and is always already music-imbued. Timaeus, music in the form of the diatonic pattern-the recurring order of whole and half steps-is woven into the fabric of the cosmic soul, of which our souls partake. That is why we respond to the diatonic modes. We look with longing at the stars because that is where our souls come from, and we take delight in identifying Same and Other in the things of the world because our souls are made of Same and Other. So too, we welcome music into our souls because we detect in it the inflections of our psychic modalitiesour calls to music. It is lS a case of sympathetic vibration grounded in the nature of the ensouled cosmos. Schopenhauer differs from Timaeus in his understanding of interiority. He rejects on grounds it makes 1s fact illusory, 16 sufficient reason, applies only to calls the "veil of Maya" or illusion. are world of phenomena, which Schopenhauer regularly listening to music, we suspend our individuality a as soul and character. From a musical standpoint, Schopenhauer differs from Timaeus by going beyond the Pythagorean idea of interval as sensed ratio and treats music as the embodiment of tension or force. This modem concept of force, also known as conatus or endeavour, is 14 �prominent the physics of Newton and Leibniz and was introduced into natural science by Hobbes, who, like Schopenhauer, rejects a highest good and depicts desire as an infinite striving "that ceaseth only in death." 17 Dissonance in music is a kind of tension or force. As the vector-like impulse to move in a definite direction, it is the analogue of desire. 18 suspension is a good example of how dissonance works music. In a suspension, two lines or voices start out in consonance but then produce dissonance when one of the voices moves while the other holds its note. A resolution of dissonance follows. Schopenhauer writes: "[Suspension] is a dissonance delaying the fmal consonance that is and certainty awaited; this way the longing for it is strengthened, appearance affords greater satisfaction. satisfaction of the is clearly an analogue which is enhanced through delay." 19 The word "analogue" is important here. suspension is not the image or a a universal event about universal language, he is not being poetic. bearers of universal meaning. rather means the case of music, this meaning is perceived and _._. _. .__.._. . ,_..... . ., . . . . Listening to music is non-verbal symbol-recognition. ~fu~ ~ glorious tradition reaches from Bach and Handel, through Mozart, to Brahms and Wagner, and continues in our own century. and Beethoven, music, as opposed to mode-inspired music of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, exhibits the directed 15 �tension I mentioned earlier. There is a play of forces-tonal dynamism. Needless to say, such music is friendly to the language of will, for will is tension, and force is will that has not yet attained self-consciousness. The musicologist Heinrich Schenker applied this very term to music: Tonwille, the will of the tones. In tonal harmony tension is not confined to isolated events, like the suspension, but pervades the whole of a musical piece and constitutes its unity. The term "tonal" refers to the rule of a single tone, the tonic or keynote, to which all the other tones in a tonal work point or, as some theorists prefer to say, the centrality of the tonic triad, the !-chord. These tensions-Victor Zuckerkandl calls them dynamic qualities--compose the major scale and cause it to sound like a with clearly defmed stages and a predetermined end: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. 20 Tension is especially urgent degree 7, which strives toward 8, as desire craves its satisfaction. Degree 4 tends, less urgently, down to 3. Together, degrees 4 and 7 produce the dissonant 1s best smce degree 5 in the bass, makes tritone, which points to the the dominant seventh triad and so fixes the music in a key. Thanks to operate at levels, tones dynamic triads I cannot leave the topic of musical tension, and of tone as the symbol of desire, """'" ...-.... ,.,,,_r citing Wagner's Tristan and Isolde. this work we hear extreme chromaticism, constant unresolved cadences and centers. These phenomena forn1 the tonal analogue of eros as infinite longing. As others have noted, work pushes tonal harmony and musical tension to the absolute limit by extending striving of tones over the course of several hours. The historical connection between 16 �Wagner's musical drama and Schopenhauer' s book, although fascinating, is beyond the scope of this lecture. Here I simply observe that the opening phrase of the Prelude, with its famous "Tristan chord" resolving to a dominant-seventh chord, is perhaps the most powerful evocation of tension-as-desire in all of music. Wagner's phrase sets a cadence that is not completed until the very end of the work, when the crashing waves of orchestra overwhelm the transfigured Isolde before settling the blissful, post- climactic froth ofB major. In Schopenhauer's terms, this immense prolongation of musical tension is the noumenal interior of the lovers' prolonged phenomenal eroticism. More cautiously stated, it is the analogical, symbolic representation of that interior. The the tones. of the story is not in the death-bound characters The central teaching "a copy [AbbildJ of the sure, 1"\"t"t:l•C't:>~'\T Schopenhauer' s metaphysics of music is that music is itself," not of the Ideas of the will, as in tragedy (257). arts universality . . . .._._,-' . . .""·. . . of Cordelia. Music, by .,...,..,..,.,"~".,."'"'"~" makes no such U:.I-11--''-'U:.-'- represents, means sacred, mysterious, profound language oftones."21 This signals the primacy of what Wagner called "absolute language representations. It is the Schopenhauer, Absolute U'"-'-'-''-'-"'··.._· "speaking to us" through the medium composers, who are will's symbolists, somnambulists and high priests. 23 Because tones are meaningful by themselves, Schopenhauer can make the astonishing claim that music, 17 passmg over �the Ideas and everything phenomenal, "to a certain extent, could still exist even if there were no world at all" (25 7). The reason is that music, in negating the world as thing, contains that world from the perspective of its deepest interior, its immortal heart. Schopenhauer states this with maximum concision in the other work to which I referred earlier: "Music is the melody to which the world is the text. " 24 In other words, tones all by themselves represent the indwelling, immortal spirit of the world. If we imagined the phenomenal world as a staged opera or a movie, then the orchestral parts and score would stand to it as inner to outer, essence to appearance, truth to seeming. As I observed in the case of Wagner's Tristan, the real drama, the world in its truth, would be taking place not what we hear. It in what we see be a drama of tones. But although music transcends the world as thing, it also has a profound connection with that world-again, by analogy. Schopenhauer is fascinated by this speaks an cries "Eureka! I have found As I mentioned earlier, the major triad its octave captures in symbolic form the four natural grades of the will's self-objectification and is a note mirrors what happens lowest, and bass nature as a whole, where higher grades of being develop out of organic nature constantly depends on the inorganic, as the upper bass notes the melody that floats above are the musical analogue of plant and animal. These tones form the harmonic organism that binds lower bass and higher melody. They mirror the way that plant and animal life mediate between the inorganic realm and our higher, human nature. 18 �This analogy exists the scale itself, where the hierarchy of tones mirrors "the whole gradation of the Ideas which the will objectifies itself' (258). To hear an ascending scale is, in a sense, to hear the entire cosmos. Even the inevitable impurity of intervals that exists all tuning or temperament is an analogue of phenomenal nature. An interval that is slightly "off," say an equal-tempered major mirrors natural idiosyncrasy -"the departure of the individual from the type of the species" (258-9). The incompatibility some intervals others, the very problem that makes temperament will: it is the musical analogue of the will's "inner necessary, is also an aspect "which is concern of tragedy (266). Even finds its of tones. Death occurs, says a of key "entirely abolishes the connection what went before" (261). as the musical analogue of phenomenal man: the progressing significant connexion of one thought beginning to end, expressing a whole, I recognize the copy or impression whereof Schopenhauer, "says highest grade of the actual life is the series of its deeds." But melody, for because it goes beyond outward deeds and events. It also enlightened most secret portrays every agitation, every effort, every movement of the will, everything of reason summarizes under the wide and negative concept of feeling, and 19 the �To sum up, there is nothing in the natural world, or in the inner and outer of man, that does not fmd its counterpart in the all-embracing realm of tones. Music as symbol is the whole of all things. It is the world. That is why, as Schopenhauer says, "we could just as call the world embodied music as embodied will" (262-3). Coda. Another World of Longing I end my musical-cosmological reflection with a piece of music that depicts the world as a certain kind of music, polyphony. It is Palestrina's motet, Sicut cervus. Beloved by St. John's students, the piece is a musical setting of the opening of Psalm 42 in the Vulgate: ("As the Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te, hart longs for flowing streams, so longs my soul for you, 0 God"). The motet is a good example of what Nietzsche called Palestrina's "ineffably sublime sacred music."25 a unto an image of is the central proposition of my lecture. The world of Sicut cervus is that the biblical God. Creation, here, is good. It produces beings, not images of originals or is not confmed to and is not a craftsman who leaves the world after having made it, or an indifferent prime mover, but God of promise and history-the God who makes covenants with his people. He is dialectic, or astronomy, or art, someone to whom one can pray. or the death of care based on the gnosis cosmic nothingness, but from faith in God. Although the words of the motet express longing, the tones do not represent longing as stress and strain. The music is a continually graceful gesture that transmutes 20 �pain of longing into a serene order of voices-voices that seem always to know their place. Sicut cervus is composed in two senses of the word: it is well constructed, and it has an unperturbed disposition. During the piece, motion goes on and time passes, but the overall "feel" seems beyond time and change, like a musical emanation of the nunc stans or eternal Now. It is as grace were already present, and the singers were experiencing, the very midst Aquinas cites three criteria of beauty: wholeness, consonance and radiance or claritas. 26 cervus has these abundance, especially radiance. music seems to be suffused of feeling but also sounds intelligent, lucid and self-possessed. with warm light. It is imitation tones move, it seems, not because waters for which to but because sound is a spontaneous unfolding, as compulsion are the process of forming. Dissonances occur to enhance consonance and beget ~LLL'LJ''-'"'V.U.. most important respect brings me to which Palestrina's motet is (because it does not need) cervus Is _h-:::~,-rrnr.-n-ri" """._._.__._....,_._!--' ... .....,'-' they are not prominent, cervus IS not as a image of a four as are most part want to, not out at result of simultaneous horizontal relations. four voices that compose the piece enter one at a time in points of imitation. The voice that follows seems to be inspired to enter the one leads. parts move 21 obedience to the rules of good �voice leading but do more than exhibit formal correctness. They seem to delight in each other's company and to be naturally social. At times, they even graciously step aside for each other, as if rejoicing in the being and individuality of other lines. Sicut cervus, in its non-urgent flow, is a musical community that captures the sound of friendship. And just as friends engage all sorts of play, the vocal lines play off one another, often exhibiting contrary motion-simultaneous movement opposite directions. Thanks to this friendly contrariety, which keeps the parts audibly distinct, the voices celebrate, contrary to what Schopenhauer asserts, the reality and of the principle of individuation, as they conspire to form a perfect, natural sounding republic of tones. The voices of Sicut cervus, in this respect, may be said to enact the contrapuntal play we fmd among souls Dante's Paradiso. With this non-tragic image of the world, my study and Schopenhauer's World two great as contrast, with its Biblical and Representation, differ greatly in how view being, becoming . _. . . . . . . _._. . . . ". __._ condition. But they also go together because, more than the great discussions us to consider even significant and captures the whole of all things, not in concept but in image and feeling. Are cosmologies of Timaeus and Schopenhauer, separately or together, an adequate account of music? I are not. are approach to music, just as there are limits to Schopenhauer' s Romantic conception of music as representing feeling and irrational will. Both accounts are nevertheless inspired efforts that hit upon certain undeniable truths. 22 �My closing note is inspired by the philosopher Schopenhauer' s personal love of music, which I share. Music, even the saddest music in the world-music that is worlds apart from Sicut cervus and n1ay even be the sound of despair and crushing grief-is dear to us and makes us happy, if only for a while. Maybe this is because music, as a living presence that comes to us, offers itself to us, assures us that we are not alone: that there is something out in the world that knows our hearts may even teach us to better. Thanks to music, we experience what it means to be connected to the whole things, even when whole seems tragic; just a mind; to have depth, it means to it means to have a soul and not not mere rightness, of feeling and being; and, above to ourselves our 23 �NOTES 1 I have slightly modified the translation by Allan Bloom, The Republic of Plato, Basic Books, 1991. 2 For a discussion of the difference between seeing and hearing, see Hans Jonas, The Phenomenon of Life: Toward a Philosophical Biology, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1966: "For the sensation of hearing to come about the percipient is entirely dependent on something happening outside his control, and in hearing he is exposed to the happening ... he cannot let his ears wander, as his eyes do, over a field of possible percepts, already present as a material for his attention, and focus them on the object chosen, but he has simply to wait for a sound to strike them: he has no choice in the matter" (p. 139). 3 Translations of the Timaeus are from my edition for Focus Press, Newburyport MA, 2001. 4 The second volume consists of supplements to the four books in Vol. 1. 5 "Schopenhauer," Thomas Mann: Essays, tr. H. T. Lowe-Porter, New York: Random House, 1957. 6 Numbers in parentheses refer to page numbers in the edition by E. F. J. Payne, New York: Dover, 1969. 7 Parerga and Paralipomena, Vol. 2, tr. E. F. J. Payne, Oxford: Clarendon, 1974, p. 430. 8 "The heart, that primum mobile of animal life, has quite rightly been chosen as the symbol, indeed the synonym, of the will ..." (Vol. 2, p. 237). The atheist Schopenhauer says at one point: " .. .like God, [music] sees only the heart" (Vol. 2, p. 449). 9 The title of Miguel de Unamuno's book. 10 Schopenhauer quotes from Calderon's Life Is a Dream: "For man's greatest offence is that he has been born" (Vol. 1, 254) . This is "the guilt of existence itself' -original sin. Death is, in effect, the correction of an error. Schopenhauer would say to the dying individual: "You are ceasing to be something which you would have done better never to become" (Vol. 2, p. 501). 11 Ovid, Metamorphoses 10, 42. 12 Schopenhauer makes this point in The Fourfold Root of the Principle of Sufficient Reason: "In just the same way, the succession of sounds in a piece of music is determined objectively, not subjectively by me the listener; but who will say that the musical notes follow one another according to the law of cause and effect?" (p. 127, tr. E. F. J. Payne, La Salle: Open Court, 1974) 13 It is important to note how the Ideas for Schopenhauer differ from how Plato describes them. For Schopenhauer, the Ideas cannot be genuine beings, for that would undermine the ultimacy of the irrational will. They are simply eternal modes or ways in which the will objectifies itself. The Ideas are more like adverbs than nouns. 24 �14 These archetypes recall Vico's "imaginative universals." See The New Science of Giambattista Vico, tr. Thomas Goddard Bergin and Max Harold Fisch, Cornell NY: Cornell University Press, 1988. See Paragraphs 381 and 460. 15 Translations of Aristotle's Politics are from the edition by Joe Sachs for Focus Press, Newburyport MA, 2012. 16 " .•. soul signifies an individual unity of consciousness which obviously does not belong to that inner being ... The word should never be applied except in a metaphorical sense" (Vol. 2, p. 17 Leviathan XI.1. the concept of will has been subsumed under the concept of force; I, on the other do exactly the reverse, and intend every force in nature to be conceived as will" , p. 19 Vol. 2, 455-6. An even better instance of the connection between dissonance and will is the melody and intensifies expectation. It is the perfect musical imitation of longing. A example occurs in Tamino' s love song in the Magic Flute. Tamino gazes on a picture of Pamina and falls in love with her. By singing in response to a picture, he moves from the world as re~>re~~entat:wn to the world as will. His repeated tones on the words "I feel " "ich ftihl es," embody the universal truth of erotic love. 20 The Sense Princeton: Princeton 21 22 pp. 18-28. Vol. 2, p. 432. See on Music and 1988, p. 171. 23 For a of the thinker's claim that him the essence of " see Jonas, ibid. In his chapter "Heidegger and Theology," Jonas connects Heidegger with Gnosticism for Heidegger' s and finds in Schopenhauer' s theory of music the sole philosophic "the voice of Being" 257). Jonas comments: claim that poets and "Schopenhauer's fantasy [unlike Heidegger's] was innocent, for music is nonresponsible and 258). There is good reason to cannot suffer from the misconception of a duty it does not have" think that music is not as "innocent" or "nonresponsible" as Jonas thinks. p.430. 25 The Birth ofTragedy, 19. 26 Summa Theologica I, 39, 8c. For an excellent discussion of the three formal criteria of see Umberto Eco, The Aesthetics of Thomas tr. Hugh Gredin, Cambridge: Harvard U. Press, 1988, pp. 64 ff. 25 �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 26 pages Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Music and the idea of a world: on Plato and Schopenhauer Description An account of the resource Typescript of a lecture delivered on November 06, 2015 by Peter Kalkavage as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Kalkavage, Peter Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2015-11-06 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A signed permission form has been received stating, "I hereby grant St. John's College permission to: Make an audio recording of my lecture, and retain copies for circulation and archival preservation in the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make an audio recording of my lecture available online. Make a typescript copy of my lecture available for circulation and archival preservation in the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make a copy of my typescript available online." Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource <a title="Audio recording" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/7">Audio recording</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/b633069f0d5f0635203c8ee6df3499e0.mp3 98e68b365986b7705dc4a452a1e5d3af Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data wav Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:50:20 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Horses of Achilles Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on September 9, 2016 by Robert Charles Abbott, Jr. as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Abbott, Robert Charles, Jr. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2016-09-09 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A signed permission form has been received stating, "I hereby grant St. John's College permission make an audio recording of my lecture, and retain copies for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make an audio recording of my lecture available online. Make typescript copies of my lecture available for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make a copy of my typescript available online." Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Abbott_Robert_2016-09-09 Relation A related resource <a title="Typescript" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1139">Typescript</a> Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/9a6ab7f066f88d2e8eb3dabe4f8035fa.mp3 e9f870fe0d2846a641546c287cf2d6ee Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Sound A resource primarily intended to be heard. Examples include a music playback file format, an audio compact disc, and recorded speech or sounds. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data wav Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 37:23 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource All in C Major: On the Very Beginning of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier Description An account of the resource Audio recording of a lecture delivered on September 2, 2016, by Elliott Zuckerman as part of the Formal Lecture Series. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Zuckerman, Elliott Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 2016-09-02 Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource A signed permission form has been received stating, "I hereby grant St. John's College permission make an audio recording of my lecture, and retain copies for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make an audio recording of my lecture available online. Make typescript copies of my lecture available for circulation and archival preservation at the St. John's College Greenfield Library. Make a copy of my typescript available online." Type The nature or genre of the resource sound Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource mp3 Language A language of the resource English Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Zuckerman_Elliott_2016-09-02 Subject The topic of the resource Bach, Johann Sebastian, 1685-1750. Wohltemperierte Klavier, 1. T. Nr. 1 Bach, Johann Sebastian, 1685-1750. Wohltemperierte Klavier, 2. T. Nr. 1 Friday night lecture Tutors https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/8b7f58fd064c06069918ccd89878b4e4.pdf 5f9c68551158547d8d3303fdbddd539d PDF Text Text j .St. P Clc.+ (0 Oc.)- I 0 Col/~e_, s;,t-,..,'_1 V0'1 q L,, +<-~" c..v', 1'170 AVI"'"rci.:l Bla"'Lu~h~'-VI 0 &. c..o/a 61- ,,_, 1 !-1.C 0 IVY. L. e+ '"''!Y"""" ,:_,;.,_, (b, J.i.v,. F~,v +' he.0Vl " +- /(.ilb'f G-o!Jw,,;._ "Jf. .J;,J,..,.,j Col/'t)'- /-l ..ll:..s Johv. loc.lcc J~ Q"l(J~..i.'' /-Jc.vvy fi1 U VV k }Ce.')l•v.. Ca II 'j"-, &<UM. l,,;,_v 0 If w~f- ~~' O"'J""'; +r ""'.A. u.)h,.·i-0 IAJ"'-:J w,w. r.+. \1 &vowv~. ;01;,/c.-,J""' ' /2?.Lf.V'tL ~J D,"/~.j-,L '" ,fA,_ 1 G&ckv F.,. /Jd/oAJLJ!vt,/". 1, t..t.h 0 l<JJ,;.,.., D<. p;.,At cl v IAJ, iI !Yov. 7 \\ I . I Gvoc'fJ ·- (;.,.. ~~ <, &t1uJ:.. G, Fl. '' 6.vJb,... Gil., /6 LJ\ .._,J l-11/ £4 <»c,v-d BAvo h J J /..J~YVAor?\ U c;,w,iov;~j'- f1A v.Lhh/ &e We:> kyc'MA 1'0,vhv~ 'teA G-ow'eVtLh I. U, /LI~J.Jie.r!-v. CT 71v.. /~Lho~"-Ji,'!j tu+-w~ f3Cf-{..,,,:, «~A 11 ;'0!,1-;<.__:; m Jli.,. Pholou/''"j .J<,,_._~-. hv,<..b<-':j 1:/• ..vv.wJ. U 1 (.,.....J,,.,:~J... MA Ye- bw:-4 Tv "Y VL()-v' J+Jbhn';; 11 Adle.v L.,f-.fu.h_ -1.-v Phdc:.o)'I,,JfZe,..ewd""t 0"''-'?oiL. ~)~ '1, /'J10 u+ N;;c/ Co//J,_' An""'JUIIU Alfve) Jc~~ We-, .Je..,r. Lo II I 0 x h.,.-c,[ 0 H 11 n,._ eo...,,.,~"' J"""'"'- of p,l.f-,~~" l<fi'J 1'/C,"J'>Wly t~A j.f!, ~"f+- Ak~fv,;;c1- AA'' o-F �" F'""--c ohi v• I 'fvi'YI p-;; fv Y "I 0 I' v. ~·rlj/.,""''tl ',c,/1"7 ',~'1?£' +r I/I'Jt.I)V)H ((' {whl f""~ o -f/~ 07._! /?,hi vovvn""Tm2 -\-+ol//3 ~, 1;1 v-.o -,~Yic-~?"7 /"''<I Y"_ly,J.r ""r rv r""' ,\, 'C cnl""'"/7 WJ ',"'"!Of' +Y \1 1 o'A1, ""17 rrr: I+ I OJ I , ~~~, "" 17 o'""'; '1'?1 " ~~ v<P 'f''f>A'-"j""') )7U. . -1 'I QC...oj '.> -/· 0 " C:~~'Ml?CI '"" , l t""""1'2.1.T2' I f - T \'VIA'J'f) "~/ "I,I:'Mvt-1 ,-,\/>MY/1'7 c;; ~"'fv ~ 10 ·"'".'"; IV ) A (/."'"'~ '""1' 1'"'.' (,~I ""'IL IV 1 1 " ' '""' vU) I "'n 'f'7 \"'"d -8 ~w "''.'"!"'""') '. II"J "" 01.'*'-;:r flO ''"'? J -.+ :"""""tl '1-f"t''4/7,, --V''"i"?/ 1 J?.,w (Ill/ '7fJVI;\ '~'N I~~Ylfr-;;f r~•fi?s 1""'~ ',~'IT '_'/'-J""'"'V '' r,;l/"7 II ~'"f '"ffJ O:J'' j f'i 1!-(:j "-~- I , / h<: I ,_,JIf fC rrn""'+\' ""'7 71'-j_j_ 'I ''I oC"""O 'pc;,.,,'1J L I I '"!'rl ~· n /. '' )oo~:; '1)-,.\0(' »f""'? 71 ([ ""0 ' j''rijf?'hf';;t_fiyf7(Y)(J?\l(7 '' II I /'-'cit/ AN 'MV 'V! '''"l"''V11'/ Cu...,, 1 )I · -1 , """"'·"""" ~"-' (If V C ~IAAVfl V>~?;,\3 'l'l ' (-1.-_-,. AN '1\f\/ ~ '''"'-/"'Y>,..-fj '7"'<'7-,-,li,, ,/'1c!o<;ol''1c/'-'43-'hJ "~~ y~l 'n Jr-~::; '7"'' """7 <1 ,, ;\('/ Y'\lO?>?v\/J f/ ""'W ''.'"7"~"'/ 0 7 '1"','""'"!-f />?{'''([ f'-"YJ:b;..r1 ') M(;y r; Y\',,-,,.,jr t -t '1,.,."'7 F111 "CT VV'ft-11 "'"' ,l-f""""'~_..c/x3 l:t cpj J.N 'wtr::r<;; '.,;(PI'M'i!.jO ·r•w7 ..,'"'1~/;"d 0?(.' JY1"9 "J(I "Tf1 fO /,"!}'i''fl J''A"'f''/V 7lJ.L '- "f':::l I If') 1"""-'"'LL ? u cp_j xv.''"fl '+Af7 7!1N '1'f"''"'0 -r"~ADJ '1f'""r -+~'?/ ''?/ IJ.,M_L ,, OLb/-ly'}bf ''/ (1{; ;!.""'hi i.f II"? , I c/ ? j ··'('~ '/"'?'J-f ?-'lly-:>>7 1 �Lecture Schedule 1969-1970 Sept 26 Oct 3 Oct 10 Oct 16 Oct 24 Oct 31 Nov 7 Nov 14 Nov 21 Dec 5 Jan 9, 1970 Jan 16 Jan 23 Feb 6 Feb 13 Feb 20 Feb 27 Mar 6 Mar 13 April 10 April 17 April 24 May 1 Robert Goldwin St. John’s College, Annapolis P. von Blankenhagen Jacob Lateiner, NYC Robert Goldwin St. John’s College, Annapolis Harry M. Clor Kenyon College, Gambier OH Malcolm Brown Center For Hellenic Studies, Washington DC W. J. Fishback Earlham Coll. Richmond IN Edward Banfield Harvard U. Cambridge MA Victor Gourevich Wesleyan U, Middletown CT Mortimer Adler Institute for Philosophical Research, Chicago IL Jonathan Fineberg Harvard U. Cambridge MA Deborah Traynov St. John’s College, Annapolis Alfred Sugg Western Coll, Oxford OH Br. Robert Smith St. Mary’s Coll Beaux Arts Quartet, NYC Thomas Settle Polytechnic Inst. of Brooklyn, Bklyn, NY David Lachterman Syracuse U., Syracuse NY Dieter Henrich Columbia U, NY, NY Evelyn Harrison Columbia U. NY, NY Joseph Cropsey U of Chicago, Chicago IL Leo Strauss St. John’s College, Annapolis Bernard Kruysen, New York, NY Robert Horwitz Dean’s Opening Lecture “The Program of the Parthenon Concert “St. John’s College Asks John Locke Some Questions.” “What is Obsenity, and What’s Wrong With It.” “Rhetoric and Dialectic in the Phaedrus” “Groups- Galoi’s Great Gift “The Unheavenly City “The Relationship between Ethics and Politics in the Philosophy of Hegel” “The Common Sense of Politics” “Kandinsky and the Concept of Abstract Art” “Logic and Logos” “Prometheus Bound” “Two Concepts of Comedy” Concert On Galileo “The Natural History of the Experiment” “Selfhood and Reason” “The Basic Structure of Modern Philosophy” “The Marathon Painting” “On Descartes’ Discourse on Method” “The Problem of Socrates” Concert “Aristotle in Hawaii” �Lecture Schedule 1969-1970 May 8 May 15 May 22 May 29 Kenyon Coll. Gambier OH Paul Lehman Union Theological Seminary, NYC Laurence Berns St. John’s Coll. Annapolis Robert Osgood and Morton Halperin Elliott Zuckerman St. John’s College, Annapolis “New Testament Paradigms of a Politics of Confrontation” “Rational Animal, Political Animal” Special Dual Lecture on Vietnam “On A Measure in Mozart” � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 4 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of the Dean Title A name given to the resource Lecture Schedule 1969-1970 (handwritten & transcribed) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1969-1970 Description An account of the resource Schedule of lectures and concerts for the 1969-1970 Academic Year. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lecture Schedule 1969-1970 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource May 15, 1970. Berns, Laurence. <a title="Rational animal, political animal" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1094">Rational Animal, Political Animal</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Goldwin, Robert A., 1922-2010 von Blankenhagen, P. Lateiner, Jacob Clor, Harry M., 1929- Brown, Malcolm Fishback, W. J. Banfield, Edward C. Gourevich, Victor Adler, Mortimer Jerome, 1902-2001 Fineberg, Janet Traynov, Deborah Sugg, Alfred Smith, Brother Robert Settle, Thomas Lachterman, David Rapport, 1944- Henrich, Dieter, 1927- Harrison, Evelyn Cropsey, Joseph Struass, Leo Kruysen, Bernard Horwitz, Robert Lehman, Paul Berns, Laurence Zuckerman, Elliott King William Players Friday night lecture Lecture schedule https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/e9723a83b6c01a61556f5396c78413d7.pdf 65bb45d784bf4a5eff1496049b9304fd PDF Text Text /970 /171 J+ J;,t,,.,') {_,J/~'!L' A""~/,..1'.1 a. A!/,_. ,, (f~t,,O.JJj)V!V ' I I ~1,,,-/c I I 1)1 L .«.J.-!.) ,, / J 1 /v-,v -";>""') , M j) Ah,,.....A."' f3,,,_Ld- Uc/- -ZD !fa><.\- Ge.v'::J &,,d,,w-.'--1/ /-/e,~k/~1 Jc,,:;;J 1!~,~/Jh,'J &.,...~)' t.~,J, 1/,, W\ _Jf .:r;,f.t"~ ,Du- li U, pr.'Y"""'-' C,/J. An"-A(,.f,:, !Z"d~,~,f /14,/C-e<- YAle.. U. I ;!/0A/I-i~<vw. cr Leo., lwJ_i. J'f- J,t-.~·, Cell~'(.' /1"""/'"j,_, /11 {,d'L\ 1n he\ 1 J!,wvwci Feb. S ;tf '' ?(., Ww. bv,,!J" ;:r,1.w. L,"~'" V Jutvy I MA Q +r~r~~ NY ... Zovv;.. .JfnJ Q,~,...vi-L.f- Chaor/o J,2;f-~Jm J"""'s. 1-J,,r(L'"J ~~~ g,)h~-wv« 4/:1 IAJ1 /f,M-Y~ lJ.wL'( .Jf JOI;"'' Lalleyc, .JM-<.Jn Fe. 1 /1 Cov.t'-'.+ ,, f CPv."'J p, <-+'!' vVi M ~•• .,~~h II �\> ~'f/-1' ~_[" ~1'7'9 ?-ff· C,f''l"""-::.l l/7 ,_,.,,,_,~ ~..,I' "":"''1-Vh ~p::J '1 ''"~•..[' ')-.' ~"'11 '1(! ;/ J-f'"~([ f'""l''!l"?'fl 1"/'7''7/ -1-1 (, """"!I I M ·I I ''t••/,,"""17 I ,r,;I!"J 7fVi -:>jMt II ' 3/,1 ."f''V<V/ -/v' Q "1~'"'-'.L ! . t·,"''1Q(' h """' (' ..n: ~"'rv '1 (' 'PI '1 Oc>"£ "f"'·fVL'.l_ j "'10"f<iJ 'v'Y Q .Y7 II v 1•"' "'?""'IW '"'IC;.,' (] _,. """"'1''"''9 "''1 "£ ~>'? a (; '() "'T 1 " ' ' " •'-'/ T"J } 11 v 17 \4,.__,:::1 ('An>rc&vty /.,,..,v .p:;; :z ·--;:; JIJ ''-f-"V17 'A'f"j :."11 f""""7 '"'f"~"Z(f /'f"'7'~r ~'11' .'11 "f'J.0...<1"""11i! '~JC'"""a -r- ·~·?·reb., '/ 0 7 7a ~''1 r1M t!W F"I ""'"'/"' n "ti I ""'1 "''[/ VJ '"4'V"Wfi'N' I ~, w>? J"+r I'"'A'J"-9 ''I,J'"""" l>" 11"7 '· "'JT ·f I IA\A'?,1f/ ''I"';:,"""V '?c,;roJ :1 '1/1 r; "'"'"r :.;r fTMVAfj 0~7 ~~~rcA,Ht7 ·II•J ,·,'"1"£"fr JL(,r 1 5 .,...,,w �Lecture Schedule 1970, 1971 Sept 25, 1970 Robert A. Goldwin St. John’s College, Annapolis Oct 2 Allen R. Clark Silver Spring, MD Oct 23 Alexander Bicket Center For Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences, Stanford CA Oct 30 Martin Diamond Claremont Men’s Coll., Claremont CA Nov 6 Noel Lee Paris, France Nov 18 Hans-Georg Gadamev Heidelberg U, Heidelberg Germany Nov 20 King William Players St. John’s Coll. Annapolis Dec 11 Richard McKee Yale U., New Haven CT Jan 8, 1971 Leon Kass National Research Council, Washington DC Jan 15 Douglas Allanbrook St. John’s College, Annapolis Jan 22 Muhsin Mahdi Harvard U., Cambridge MA Feb 5 John Logan SUNY, Buffalo NY Feb 12 Iowa String Quartet Feb 19 Charles Singleton Johns Hopkins U, Baltimore MD Feb 26 William Darkey St. John’s College, Santa Fe Mar 5, 1971 Gisela Berns St. John’s Coll. Annapolis Mar 12 Leo Strauss St. John’s College, Annapolis Apr 2 Eva Brann St. John’s Coll. Annapolis Aprt 16 Gabriel Stolzenberg Northeast U, Boston MA Apr 23 Eastern Chamber Ensemble New York, NY Deans Opening Lecture “Philosophy of Law” “The New Supreme CourtProspects & Problems” On the U.S. Constitution Piano Concert “Plato As A Hermeneutic Problem” Henry IV, Part I Concert Biomedical Advance and Ethical Problems Harpsicord Concert “Religion and Politics in Arabian Nights” “A Concert of Poetry, With Comments” Concert “The Structure of The Divine Comedy” “Books and Experience” “On Hippolytus” On Machiavelli On Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice On Mathematics Woodwind Quintet Concert �Lecture Schedule 1970, 1971 Apr 30 Peter Brown The Urban Inst., Washington DC May 1 May 7 Leslie Epstein & Douglas Allanbrook Curtis Wilson U. of California, San Diego CA John Graham & Douglas Allanbrook Allan Bloom U of Toronto, Toronto Ont Canada Jacob Kline St. John’s College, Annapolis William Pitt Rabbi Bernard Ducoff Bureau of Jewish Education, San Francisco CA May 8 May 14 May 20 May 28 June 4 “Some Moral Issues in Metropolis Finance: Can I get Away From It All in the Suburbs” Harpsicord & Recorder Concert “Kepler, Newton and Planetary Motion” Harpsicord & Viola Concert “Emile” “About Plato’s Philebus” “Logic- Beyond Modality” “On Translating the Bible-Then & Now” � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 4 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of the Dean Title A name given to the resource Lecture Schedule 1970, 1971 (handwritten & transcribed) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1970-1971 Description An account of the resource Schedule of lectures and concerts for the 1970-1971 Academic Year. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lecture Schedule 1970-1971 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource March 03, 1971. Berns, Gisela. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1093" title="Nomos and physis">Nomos and physis: an interpretation of Euripides' Hippolytus</a> May 07, 1971. Wilson, Curtis. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3647" title="On the origins of celestial dynamics">On the origins of celestial dynamics: Kepler and Newton</a> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Goldwin, Robert A., 1922-2010 Clark, Allen R. Bicket, Alexander Diamond, Martin Lee, Noël, 1924-2013 Gadamer, Hans-Georg McKee, Richard Kass, Leon Allanbrook, Douglas Mahdi, Muhsin Logan, John Singleton, Charles Darkey, William Berns, Gisela N. Strauss, Leo Brann, Eva T. H. Stolzenberg, Gabriel Brown, Peter Wilson, Curtis Bloom, Allan Klein, Jacob Pitt, William Ducoff, Rabbi Bernard King William Players Friday night lecture Lecture schedule https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/269004295dbe7f27049d70b983ac342e.pdf 19563fc4c6600b43002737c8218f4421 PDF Text Text Annapolis, Maryland St. John's College LECTURE AND CONCERT SCHEDULE 1971-72 Friday, Oct. 1 Jacob Klein "P'lato's Ion" Friday, Oct. 8 Burton Blistein "The Quest for the Grail: Structure and Symbolism in Prufrock, lb.!! Waste .!Ji!!!!!, and fE.!d!: Quartets" Tuesday, Oct. 12 Juilliard String Quartet /'J 'J L Friday, Oct. 15 friday, Oct. 22 Samuel Kutler ...H . Jok'J Loll~~ "I Think, Therefore I Am" friday, Oct. 29 Erwin Straus "Body Schema" Friday, Nov. 5 -AM' A"'lf\At'()l.~ ~~~l.,.wt l:h\c.:.\w.·""' "The Mixed Kind of life and the Combining Kind of Mind" friday, Nov. 12 Harford Opera Society concert Friday, Nov. 19 Mortimer Adler "Language, Meaning, and Thought," �St. John's College Annapolis , Maryland 1 5 iJ'i.-0 .; 'f Uda¥, Mer. 49 Friday, Apr. 7 Lecture and Concert Schedule, 1971- 72 Page 3 Charles Bell s:::rc. _a.~k F(__ "Blake: The Dance of Eternal Death" Roland Frye U~o·ll v .{ Pevlltuy Jv ....V\.,;._ 1 tJJ.,.I~oo,l~fp~ f"A "The D evil in Milton and the Visual Arts: An Approach to Understanding Milton's Attractive Satan" I ~ Friday, Apr. 14 . oV' I I J I (The Anti-Federalis~and the Bill of Rights) Herbert Storing v/ ....j. ~i, U1;u,jO (.."·~j .. !L- J-~, Afv· / (, C..,.vl/lyv-. I ioF~"'> Friday, Apr. 21 Bernard Kruysen baritone NY'- Friday, Apr. 28 Friday, May 5 Eva Brann J ,J L 11"'~/'o},_i Friday, May 12 Eugene Thaw (Visual Arts and Liberal Arts) "The Problem of the Fine Arts a nd the Liberal A rts" {!"'ore's Utopia) Friday, May 19 u~ .. , \ aLJ· Friday, May 26 Winfree Smi th (Aristotle's Ethics) Erwin Straus {on Hamlet) a' J ,,'-{ , } �St. John's College Annapolis,Maryland lecture and Concert Schedule, 1971-72 Page 2 Friday, Dec. 3 Robart Hazo f. ft;\1,,v5k, I"A "Political Decentralization" Friday, Dec. 10 King William Players Friday, Jan. 7 Marcus Berquist (Euclid) /J ·'"iv.M<'/"'1'~ Friday, Jan. 14 Douglas Allanbrook J concert - harpsichord Friday, Jan. 21 Bernard M. w. Knox (.,"),., J;,, 11<1/,.~,;~ Sh,J"~·. iAJ, )"'":)'f." D "Medea, Hero, Goddess, Woman" (Euripides' Medea) (Friday, Jan. 28) (Great Hall) friday, Feb. 4 C (Starabin - Elizabethan Trio) l~al ter Barns 0'""' ''i, lw""-1-t /wMI. o"+ c,,",l,_ "The Constitution and Threats to liberty" Friday, feb. 11 Woodwind Quintet concert Friday, Feb. 18 Beata Ruhm von Oppen _\J?~ A,·•·•"p;,),; "Student Rebellion and the Nazis: I. The Rise and Rule of Hitler" ),, .. ) J\ ' i friday, Feb. 25 Seats Ruhm von Oppan ) L AvtktAfl~i,j the Nazis: II. The "Student Rebellion and Case of the White Rose" friday, Mar. 3 Matitiahu Braun /1/ '/( violin concert '' �Annapolis, Maryland St. John's College NOTICE The lecture schedule for the remainder of the year is as follows: friday, April 21 Bernard Kruysen friday, April 28 no lecture friday, May 5 Eva Brann 5 S'L A~'!" I'~ on More 1 s Utopia friday, May 12 Eugene Thaw -*Wednesday, May 17- friday, May 26 concert "The Problem of the fine Arts and the Visual Arts" Hi-la±-1-G-±ldin - - -en- ~ousseau's political philosophy Winfree Smith J rc... A~111·bn Aristotle 1 s Ethics - fr~day, June 2 -----c: :...~at:t-----~oiifln'l--£l:i!!:a!!!]ml~at..~ ~ * Note-that Prof~~r Gildin~s lecture will be held Wednesday evening, not friday. The Dean's Office April 19, 1972 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 4 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of the Dean Title A name given to the resource Lecture and Concert Schedule 1971-72 (with written notes) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1971-1972 Description An account of the resource Schedule of lectures and concerts for the 1971-1972 Academic Year. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lecture Schedule 1971-1972 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource February 18, 1972. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3598" title="Student rebellion and the Nazis">Student rebellion and the Nazis (part one)</a> (audio) February 25, 1972. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3590" title="Student rebellion and the Nazis">Student rebellion and the Nazis (part two)</a> (audio) February 18, 1972. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3589" title="Student rebellion and the Nazis">Student rebellion and the Nazis (part one and two)</a> (text) May 05, 1972. Brann, Eva. <a title="Utopia" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/260">On Thomas More's Utopia</a> (audio) May 05, 1972. Brann, Eva. <a title="Utopia" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1236">On Thomas More's Utopia</a> (text) Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Klein, Jacob Blistein, Burton Kutler, Samuel Straus, Erwin Goldwin, Robert A., 1922-2010 Adler, Mortimer Jerome, 1902-2001 Bell, Charles Frye, Roland Mushat Storing, Herbert Kruysen, Bernard Brann, Eva T. H. Thaw, Eugene Victor Smith, J. Winfree Hazo, Robert G. Berquist, Marcus Allanbrook, Douglas Knox, Bernard M. W. Berns, Walter, 1919-2015 Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Braun, Matitiahu, 1940- Kruysen, Bernard Gildin, Hilail King William Players Friday night lecture Lecture schedule https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/7d8bf181257e4904fd4e06249eb6e2b3.pdf d4d11dd202bab68cb9f018f19a1c7820 PDF Text Text /21~'""'j J:::.~LJAv.'~"J-Io"' "]) I I euvrel 'Tf..t Pc~+- of Dd- /J Jfu. Ocl/jJ<-y N ;,,-fwJ Tf.. uJv<. A<-J /l. ''n..,_ .Lib.J""h~ !r- ·J4 Od 2o J>oc3l0 A!/,,,._ bmL '' k&ybo•wJ ()c)- 27 u.,,;,"'J'f.-/ P·-vl,PA 1 ' IV L ++'- £ I . . <U<<MC.q/ :-"':]£,..-,L I Aw>< 1 f'""'Vl. Jf,_·fe_ U,.,.,·v. J,,..:'JJ,; , . .J:TCA/,..,/,j 111~"'~ ~,{ .111.. Ad· vfIll tor~~ !3uJ<- /CuhvM "''"" Of'p"-VV " .J.Jc 4~/,j ~ n.J F'krwn- tJ-zj ~1. J, '-'"'-"' " "hi Tiu_ v,;j"- AI/,." 0n,.oL d[)AY!Lt, .Nov c;-e..-J.-f..w-t..- £-._..,j T& Ho.tV'r/'~-~~ 10 Nov S.JC A~"""!"")d d i1 !VYL § !Zyft.w.V\ I~ U<eS..Ii ~ !VfvtJ/{_ II ;11 wf1•->CW A~ "Jh,_ 00J<-d'J j?h ,;,'""l'k "~f!. (?.u.JJw~dJ.. , C~<--y IL- ol) J),;c.Uotv.V/.. 1' E•-w,-..., S+vcu. t_S, ,, Ov. I;,, f. J... f-1,_,, !;,_-{-'' i.e;Ov<jJ.v-. /::.j �L u-il1H- _;~u F'l.. ~- /'172.-7!, J~C. -"1/'-'"""V\1. , 13"/h~ 1'-1 D G-e-ovj <.. W<!<'lc{ '' c~,_J<..V M .. ~~v<"""'d'd '' Clw,_vfo;~ wh;f,_ //~DUv-e...v Dv'"'"H..s.SVtcw, ets. t.. J:-,':J w.t J,Q·..,_ "!.twt':;l d£v.. If of Cu..,.,._Jw AJ?,f,,,....J. l-"!lwy, w,.Jh'J/., JX 11 PI''/'-V'l +tv- J!,.w<Ow '' f._.j;,,t,,.jJ-"" b c t;'(JW<'- ;Lf '-C'-"'../ty /. l :>0 e_Try f" /'r}J(...__l '' L · -0 I ?.-1/\ M"' h '1-i~<h!A. f3··a~, V1 ''lito/,.., ~(t/-/-J«<-v (;; /(.f <.IJ~ S ::JC. A"""''/"'/, 1 '~if'"-<-h, lh Jfv'-'JJ.t. w,;;IMV> o · G·v·"''J c..-J. .1..'1~ We.,.J..w.JJ<J" JJc ~'/";,:~ 4..--/, '1 ~xr' &it'c 1 ' /" ""'A .ft_, J:uv~ r,., AW\"?(f!."'s --Sfv-1':3 OwwU ~u.J- 1 ' CI-Ko It'- (A,A;V 1 A !/""'· 2 ~ ! 7 1 Al'v. ]. 7 · ' /1-1 II fll,y.Jt of 7tu_ (-j,fovy ~ Yo "-nI"-'-- J...,.-y.O..VtMS K...y I 1 /;..y-e.vJ I PG..-.tA. L/u_ Il " (A f) ( !_~IV< J -r " LV (f"'IA~- Th.._ Do If C> (-1oct u 11 /ZJ'),:,.__, GJAo/,(__ u..,,v, 'I !ll c-Ju,h 7hu-.fr-<. Gn""f' 11 (?(,; lo;"f~''- w,sh"'J~ l~( �Lecture Schedule 1972-1973 Sept 15, 1972 Hugh McGrath SJC Annapolis Sept 22 Nancy Wilson Ross Old Westbury, NY Sept 29 Richard Kennington Penn. State Univ., University Park, PA Oct 6 Eva Brann SJC Annapolis Oct 13 Harford Theatre Assn. Oct 20 Oct 27 Nov 3 Nov 10 Nov 17 Dec 1 Dec 8 Dec 15 Jan 12, 1973 Jan 19 Jan 26-27 Feb 2 Feb 16 Feb 23 Mar 2 March 9 April 6 April 13 Douglas Allanbrook SJC Annapolis Beate Ruhm von Oppen SJC Annapolis Wye Allanbrook SJC Annapolis Virgil Thornson NYC Leonard G Ratner Stanford Univ., Stanford CA Mortimer Adler Inst. for Philosophical Research, Chicago IL Erwin Straus Lexington KY Edward Sparrow SJC Annapolis George Wend SJC Alumnus, Baltimore MD Christopher White Curator National Gallery, Washington DC King William Players Sen. Eugene McCarthy Washington DC Matitiahu Braun Jacob Klein SJC Annapolis William O’Grady SJC Annapolis Herman Kahn The Hudson Inst., Crodon on Hudson NY Amadeus String Quartet San Francisco CA Muhsi Mahdi Harvard Univ. Cambridge MA “The Circle and the Square” “Asian Wisdom and the Modern World” “Decartes and the Enlightenment” “The Poet of the Odyssey” “The Abduction from the Seraglio” “Keyboard Music and the Art of Illusion” “The Rhetoric of J.S. Bach” “Dance, Gesture, and The Marrage of Figaro” “Words and Music” “Rythmn in Classical Music” “The Objects of Discourse” “On Hamlet” “Jesus of Nazareth, Lamb of God” “Computer Mathematics” “Dürer as a Draftsman” “Taming of the Shrew” “Poetry and Politics” Violin Concert “Speech, Its Strength and Its Weaknesses” “Plato’s Republic and the Search For” “The Prospects for Mankind” Concert “The History and Myth of Philosophic Religion” �April 27&28 May 4 May 18 Catholic Univ Players Catholic Univ, Washington DC Nicolas Nabokov Paris France Modern Theatre Group Apr. 27: “As You Like It” Apr. 28: “The Birds” “Stravinsky and Irony” “The Dolls House” � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 4 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of the Dean Title A name given to the resource Lecture Schedule 1972-1973 (handwritten & transcribed) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1972-1973 Description An account of the resource Schedule of lectures and concerts for the 1972-1973 Academic Year. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lecture Schedule 1972-1973 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Relation A related resource October 06, 1972. Brann, Eva T. H. <a title="The poet of the Odyssey" href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/261">The poet of the Odyssey</a> (audio) October 27, 1972. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3605" title="Bach's rhetoric">Bach's rhetoric</a> (audio) October 27, 1972. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3585" title="Bach's rhetoric">Bach's rhetoric</a> (text) Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource McGrath, Hugh Ross, Nancy Wilson, 1901-1986 Kennington, Richard, 1921- Brann, Eva T. H. Allanbrook, Douglas Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Allanbrook, Wye Jamison Thornson, Virgil Ratner, Leonard G. Adler, Mortimer Jerome, 1902-2001 Straus, Erwin Sparrow, Edward Wend, George White, Christopher McCarthy, Eugene Braun, Matitiahu, 1940- Klein, Jacob O'Grady, William Kahn, Herman Mahdi, Muhsi Nabokov, Nicolas King William Players Friday night lecture Lecture schedule https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/5c4f47134187fef58a3caf5d6a2020da.pdf d9795587b4f291b11fe4b77ea2ec06f4 PDF Text Text i JJ.eduk e_.:._fLAN_ /'1/3- 1'17'+ /'OM Jfk ]),.o,cawvy o--b j)ul~dw<- J<e«MU: 11 W,.)l-._'j~_oc /,,,f,""'J P/'/""3. )k:J::~{f_s_ Ocw/eJ. f?.eJI J. .J/,T"""I L /)C AA J,_.,+"' Fe. JI( ' /·H I"IA+h ''t " Tiv.. II ,_t,. <"''-"'J ;1/ 0 d L.e_e.. J+,/fw.u..~ 1).-,,.l:... L, 1 ' &,J, /r..o 0) Phu._ Fv. j ~Ley ,j "' ''Jh.,_ i/l)t,,+'{. !Vov tt Nov I& Jt?..:,._ f+JJI.v)' ;~ J(n~'-'L" evtV\UL'.J- L, ' !11 r '-b {()"- 110"'/- J ''7: Jo~. Lt~vd '"' 1 14 1..,;kv6w lf.t/!"""''-_Jh,,~, tu.du:: +...., DC ~/h<A<-y{J,J< S ,' p.,WoOV, E"';/''K, lk'WV{)<'V•C7 .J.:rc.. ,, Or;'>Wt J.~; f 6<v J/'-'- J f/Ac.b, ;\/ YC ob ~ J O"'.J/), vw l + I"'-L""'" !34,[<- '';'/.,.,J,e.o . ",\ ·fvoY<o·w.-y 14 7 A~rl:s 10-v< /~ W.J I';.__ J.1v1 .De.c C,J,\!M4;J':Jl r.,~/ ./1..~ Phd,,.~,_,,l fle>-<MJJ,, 0"")' 'tL !2~ +- /4<J Yet! e_ ' t2u.h"" Trrvw..fo, Tcrv,"'-.J-., Q,-vt ~,_,L r2.,1;;;1,,,.<J J).,.,.-k_w.\..1 &.vv.c..vcliuwx t Nov. l.a /M Hw-/,"0.4/ AA.&v '/t1;jw; fy t"b Uvo1v. Ow.""" Cn~)""';'--h f.,.,)o Iol" J""'~.~.,~ .I""-1-. AJJv-o;t;•wJl. 0"''"""''+.'7• c_,L...,Jy, M/1 '7t... [,/""'"''~ 1~/!,_.+,.,v-,, A 16 Jd, ~A"'"'Y 1/,<WV " �1'2. !Zv l.w-f- J"-) +vow 11 -rht IV YL [o....,,J •1 Jfu.. Goid~tA ljc '' Co"v'''/ .JchJVvLo."-<..v /IJe..;Ywk IVy cv;vy· ~~X,~ N<-o C,.,{"'u~'~'"', Ti~C"~-kA·._,A. Ctmh:xf l'l6o~tz..n) EJ/ev. ''TN_ NY V<y>iAvo Cvp> G-e.o~u 1 '7/u._ ·"f, 7/v,_ Qu~J. {,1/::J<-, Fluoh'"j .D<'<V11 £cl,J e¥t Jv<c\1<..1;'"~ lle-<>kav ~ ~ L-ew) '.ctt!S;; ·:b EL<-Ie~~YJ!" & <Wh '> ClfYiuv+ '7;;./<NW }" ft ~ 'll ;::>, "'+vy - TALtrv! J.Jn.w_,.~c\ Jcid<-~_) NYC c~AW>W- W<~,c ·'t g,,u_ Ttck ,, ILfwv-h:, Lev1n If ,<.,_.«( B,,.,.lh~ 1'1 Cl ''74 Fi~ 1 lz:yo·.lw h~iJ" G11-t.l.;, be.vM-' ..J;rc. A~w~'f'/i; ~ F;.,/~, ...JJuuJiy>fcw-" '·;>Afll U ~( /11A.J£',s.w't!,f;(.j: At/'-0 [!,/""""' u,\IV /A<AIV· t3~fft~ IY/D A F/;,,h,{WIY /110..-v 1';J'- 'b fWMJ.,' 11 Tw.vJol o.. f. c~ML,_ ;L1,1_h,, J. 0 J.l '-:) ,· h ''I~ .LM.f-vovtv..u~J Po),.~,;> /u J If.,_ {}?U.j!Jv;j )~,,O><iA."W 11 �J"'--' 0 LIM 1 ' ~ I /-fA TO Ev"' ' 1 I _;, ,-, )'nee~ !!"'''"'" _JJC /{,,W;'<;IIJ. J0 If S J- C. AI1M<'/.,J,'o whA ')" &Jy 1-kvvy Go/J,'J II 'j u t-1-\...l II r IV\ /c:.-v\+'.1 Jy1+~" JSL A~'f"l'" �Lecture Schedule 1973-1974 Sept 14, 1973 Curtis Wilson “On the Discovery of Deductive Dean SJC Annapolis Science” Sept 21 National Players Tartuffe Washington DC Sept 28 Charles Bell “Satanic Math” SJC Santa Fe Oct 5 Edward Rosen “The Achievement of Grad School of CUNY, New York NY Copernicus” Oct 12 Noel Lee Concert Oct 26 Stillman Drake “Galileo’s Place in the History Univ. of Toronto, Toronto, Ont of Science” Canada Nov 2 Fr. Stanley Jaki “The White Ribboned Darkness Princeton NJ of the Night Sky: Some Lessons in Cosmology” Nov 9 Mortimer Adler “Majority Rule & Misrule” Inst. for Philosophical Research, Chicago IL Nov 16 Bernard Knox “Thucydides: Power, Empire, The Center for Hellenic Studies, Democracy” Washington DC Nov 30 Beate Ruhm Von Oppen “A Trial in Berlin” SJC Annapolis Dec 7 Ray Williamson “Archeo-astronomy of the Inst for Space Studies, NYC Southwest Indian Pueblos” Dec 14 Owen Gingerich “The Copernican Revolution, A Smithsonian Inst. Astrophysical 16th Century View” Observatory, Cambridge MA Jan 11, 1974 Robert Jastrow “The Coming of the Golden NYC Age” Jan 18 Conrad Schirokaner “Sung Neo Confucianism, It’s CUNY New York NY Content and Context (960-1279) Jan 25 Ellen Davis “The Vapheio Cups” Queens College, Flushing NY Feb 1 Georges Edelen “The Judicious Hooker and the Vinalhaven, ME Laws of the Ecclesiastical Polity” Feb 15 The Gerles Concert Feb 22 Jonathan Griffin “Translation of Poetry- Theory London England and Practice” March 1 Howard Schless “Chaucer- Wife of Bath Tale” NYC March 3 Martin Levin “The Five Regular Solids” Baltimore MD Mar 8 Gisela Berns “Lucretius” �April 5 Apr 12 Apr 19 Apr. 26 May 3, 1974 May 8 May 17 SJC Annapolis John Graham Thomas Fulton Johns Hopkins Univ. Baltimore MD Allan Bloom Univ. of Toronto, Toronto, Ont. Canada Michael Ossorgih Jacob Klein SJC Annapolis Eva Brann SJC Annapolis Harry Golding SJC Annapolis Concert “Physics and Mathematics: A Foundering Marriage” “Rousseau” “In Introducing Dostoevski’s The Brothers Karamazov” “Plato’s Phaedo” “What is a Body in Kant’s System” “Hume” � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 5 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of the Dean Title A name given to the resource Lecture Schedule 1973-1974 (handwritten & transcribed) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-1974 Description An account of the resource Schedule of lectures and concerts for the 1973-1974 Academic Year. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lecture Schedule 1973-1974 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Wilson, Curtis Bell, Charles Rosen, Edward Lee, Noel Drake, Stillman Jaki, Fr. Stanley Adler, Mortimer Jerome, 1902-2001 Knox, Bernard, 1914-2010 Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Williamson, Ray Gingerich, Owen Jastrow, Robert Schirokaner, Conrad Davis, Ellen Edelen, Georges Griffin, Jonathan Schless, Howard H., 1924- Levin, Martin Berns, Gisela N. Graham, John Fulton, Thomas Bloom, Allan Ossorgih, Michael Klein, Jacob Brann, Eva T. H. Golding, Harry King William Players Relation A related resource September 14, 1973. Wilson, Curtis. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3669" title="On the discovery of deductive science">On the discovery of deductive science</a> (audio) September 14, 1973. Wilson, Curtis. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3651" title="On the discovery of deductive science">On the discovery of deductive science</a> (typescript) November 28, 1973. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3599" title="Trial in Berlin">Trial in Berlin</a> (audio) November 28, 1973. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3588" title="Trial in Berlin">Trial in Berlin</a> (typescript) March 8, 1974. Berns, Gisela. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1082" title="Time and nature in Lucretius' De rerum natura">Time and nature in Lucretius' De rerum natura</a> (audio) March 8, 1974. Berns, Gisela. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1088" title="Time and nature in Lucretius' De rerum natura">Time and nature in Lucretius' De rerum natura</a> (typescript) May 8, 1974. Brann, Eva. T. H. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1237" title="What is a body in Kant's system?">What is a body in Kant's system?</a> (typescript) Friday night lecture Lecture schedule https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/sjcdigitalarchives/original/7b3cce8592a0bae4098d81e5c4b3d609.pdf 13ca99ff6974bf0302a65779b9f9b256 PDF Text Text .. ~~ LECTURE SCHEDULE - 1974- 75 St. John's Kepler and the Mode of Vision September 13, 1974 Curtis Wilson, Dean, College September 20, 1974 Douglas Allanbrook Concert September 27, 1974 Francis V. O'Connor (NY, NY) Symbolism in Abstract Art October 4, 1974 Robert L. Spaeth, Tutor, St . John's The Philosophy of College Neils Bohr October 11, 1974 Dr. Leon Kass, Tutor, St. John's College October 18, 1974 LONG WEEK-END October 25, 1974 Professor Philip Fehl, Dept of Art History, Univ of Illinois Grace and Redemption in Michelangelo's Last Judgment November 1, 1974 Samuel Kutler, Tutor, St . John's Generalization November 8, 1974 Sterling Brown A Poetry Reading November 15, 1974 Stradivarian Quartet Concert November 22, 1974 Elliott Zuckerman On Measuring Verse November 29, 1974 THANKSGIVING RECESS December 6, 1974 King William Players The Alchemist December 13, 1974 Mortimer Adler The Human Constant and the Changing Scene December 20, 1974 WINTER VACATION January 10, 1975 Virgil Thomson (Composer and Music Critic) How the Critical Press Works January 17, 1975 Donald Brady (Dept of Philosophy Cheyney State College) Freud and Philosophy January 24, 1975 David Stephenson, Tutor, St . John's Beauty Alone has Looked on Euclid Bare January 31, 1975 Eva Brann, Tutor, St . John's February 7, 1975 LONG WEEK-END February 14, 1975 Leo Raditsa, Tutor, St . John's February 21, 1975 Ernst Haefliger, Tenor Teleology and Darwin's Origin of Species: Beyond Chance and Necessity? The Novels of Jane Austen Thucydides and Aristotle's Politics Concert �- 2 - The Symbolic Character of Christian Language and Action February 28, 1975 Albert Mol1egen (Virginia Theological Seminary) March 7, 1975 Ars Antigua de Paris March 14-28 SPRING RECESS <April 4, 1975 Ranlet Lincoln (Dean, University of Chicago, Univ. Extension) Kirkegaard's The Sickness Unto Death April ll, 1975 Ellen Davis (Department of Art Queens College, New York) The Metopes of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia April 18, 1975 Paul Serruys (Department of Languages, University of Wash) Writing and the Origins of Language April 25, 1975 Laurence Berns, Tutor, St. John's Francis Bacon and The Conquest of Nature May 2, 1975 Beate Ruhm von Oppen, Tutor, St. John's College B·ach' s Rhetoric and the Translation of his Texts: Concert w-ith examples taken mainly May 9, 1975 REALITY May 16, 1975 Douglas Buchanan (Massachusetts General Hospital) from the Passion according to St. John. Some Observatla'ns on the Present State of Psychiatry and Psychoanalysis �october 30, 1975 William Dunham Campus Mail Mr. Dear Will! In listing the Bicentennial lectures for a proposal I left out Herbert Storing's on "The Founders' Views on Slavery," March 5. so there are seven lectures after all! The corrected list is as follows: 1. December 12 Mortimer Adler, Director Institute for Philosophical Research -- The American Testament 2. January 30 George Anastaplo -- Title to be announced 3. February 20 Robert A. Goldwin, Special Consultant to the President -- John Locke and the Constitution 4. March 5 Herbert Storing, University of Chicago -The Founders' Views on Slavery 5. April 2 Donald L. Kemmerer, Department of Economics University of Illinois - The Role of the Monetary System in American History 6. April 23 Max Isenbergh, Professor of Law, University of Maryland School of Law -- The Pursuit of Happiness in the American Constitutional System 7. April 30 Eva T. H. Brann, Tutor, St. John's College, Annapolis -- The Declaration of Independence Sincerely yours, Curtis A. Wilson Dean � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Description An account of the resource Items in this collection are part of a series of lectures given every year at St. John's College. During the Fall and Spring semesters, lectures are given on Friday nights. Items include audio and video recordings and typescripts.<br /><br />For more information, and a schedule of upcoming lectures, please visit the <strong><a href="http://www.sjc.edu/programs-and-events/annapolis/formal-lecture-series/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">St. John's College website</a></strong>.  <br /><br />Click on <strong><a title="Formal Lecture Series" href="https://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/browse?collection=5&amp;sort_field=Dublin+Core%2CDate&amp;sort_dir=d">Items in the St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Collection</a></strong> to view and sort all items in the collection.<br /><br />A growing number of lecture recordings are also available on the St. John's College (Annapolis) Lectures podcast. Visit <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/st-johns-college-annapolis-lectures/id1695157772">Apple Podcasts</a> or <a href="https://open.spotify.com/show/6GDsIRqC8SWZ28AY72BsYM?si=f2ecfa9e247a456f" title="Spotify">Spotify</a> to listen and subscribe. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource St. John's College Greenfield Library Title A name given to the resource St. John's College Formal Lecture Series—Annapolis Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context formallectureseriesannapolis Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Page numeration Number of pages in the original item. 3 pages Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data paper Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Office of the Dean Title A name given to the resource Lecture Schedule - 1974-75 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1974-1975 Description An account of the resource Schedule of lectures and concerts for the 1974-1975 Academic Year. Also includes a memo of a corrected list of lectures. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Lecture Schedule 1974-1975 Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant Annapolis, MD Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available St. John's College Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource text Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource St. John's College owns the rights to this publication. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource pdf Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Wilson, Curtis Allanbrook, Douglas O'Connor, Francis V. Spaeth, Robert L. Kass, Leon Fehl, Philip Kutler, Samuel Brown, Sterling Zuckerman, Elliott Adler, Mortimer Jerome, 1902-2001 Thomson, Virgil Brady, Donald Stephenson, David Brann, Eva T. H. Raditsa, Leo Haefliger, Ernst, 1919-2007 Mollegen, Albert T. Lincoln, Ranlet Davis, Ellen Serruys, Paul Leo-Mary Berns, Laurence, 1928- Ruhm von Oppen, Beate Buchanan, Douglas King William Players Relation A related resource September 13, 1974. Wilson, Curtis. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3668" title="Kepler and the mode of vision">Kepler and the mode of vision</a> (audio) April 25, 1975. Berns, Laurence. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/1091" title="Francis Bacon and the conquest of nature">Francis Bacon and the conquest of nature</a> (typescript) April 25, 1975. Berns, Laurence. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3874" title="Francis Bacon and the conquest of nature">Francis Bacon and the conquest of nature</a> (audio) May 2, 1975. Ruhm von Oppen, Beate. <a href="http://digitalarchives.sjc.edu/items/show/3584" title="Bach's rhetoric and the translation of his texts">Bach's rhetoric and the translation of his texts</a> (typescript) Friday night lecture Lecture schedule