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rançois de La Mothe Le
Vayer, “On Study”
François de La Mothe Le Vayer (1588?-1672) is usually
associated with “erudite libertinage,” an eclectic philosophical movement of
seventeenth-century France that revived the late Hellenistic philosophy of Skepticism. Contemporaries frequently charged its
adherents with atheism, and modern scholars have argued the point
exhaustively. La Mothe Le Vayer found
favor at Louis XIII’s court. He put his
talents at Cardinal Richelieu’s disposal, writing in support of the
government’s policies during the Thirty Years’ War and against the religious
views of the Jansenists. First and foremost, though, he was a humanist. As such, he was devoted to the learning of
the Ancients and convinced that humanistic study could make better, more
tolerant human beings – much needed, in his opinion, at a time when religious
difference continued to cause great suffering.
He emulated Montaigne in his many short, moralizing essays. Though generally lacking his model’s verve
and ambiguity, they are often charming. Here he praises intellectual endeavor,
though he characteristically urges moderation.
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ince the Arts
to which we aspire are called liberal, we should not submit to them servilely,
but rather as free people. It is no less
a failing to study too much than too little.
It was once said of a man too fond of hunting
that he lived only when he hunted; we can vouch for the fact that many
similarly study rather than live.
I know well that
the Muses esteem only those who love them passionately; that Archimedes was
more worried about seeing the learned figures he’d traced in the sand erased
than he was about losing his life when Syracuse was taken, an event he failed
to notice; and that Carneades at table was so lost in thought that he would not
have remembered to eat at all if his dear Melissa, interrupting him with a
nudge, had not compelled him to finish his meals. But this ardor,
which is so praiseworthy and so necessary during our studies, does not hinder
us from sometimes adjourning. Those
daughters of Mnemosyne, of whom we just spoke, do not always sing; they give a
little of their time now to banqueting, now to dancing, amant alterna Camaenae.[1] And just as Lucian
maintains that, in his time, the rest that athletes took was the principal and
most important part of their exercise, you will never be mistaken in
maintaining that recreation and diversion are any less necessary to study than
great ardor and extreme eagerness of spirit.
Seneca justly accuses a certain Portius Latro, who was so bereft of
self-control, he could neither leave nor take up his
books again.[2]
This
is not to say that one should fail to sketch a little at least each day, as did
Apelles the painter.[3] The spirit needs continual nourishment no
less than the body. And the craft of
those who cultivate the sciences is
such that, if one does not advance, one retreats, qui non proficit, deficit, just as those swimming against the
current or striving to scale some very high and steep mountain cannot pause,
however briefly, without falling back, eis
non progredi, est regredi.[4] We lose so much every day from memory that,
if we do not also make up the losses, we should soon find ourselves dry and
ignorant in the same fashion that, as Plato says, one must refill a leaky vessel … But one can refresh the understanding by
means that are both varied and useful.
By amusing yourself with simple things, you recover from the pain
previously caused by some more weighty thoughts. And for the same reason that husbandmen
refresh their lands by changing the grain they plant without leaving their
fields idle, different objects and diverse meditations often have the power to
restore the soul’s vigor and revive an exhausted spirit.
This
variety does not hinder you from always having a principal object to which you
will always devote your midnight hours and towards which you will always
proceed with firm and measured step. You
cannot advance along the path by flitting about or making sidetrips. Guard especially against quitting that regal
way, following some particular paths which appear to be shortcuts and which
will lead you astray in the end. The
great avenue of the sciences is found
in the classical authors, who have in all times offered the choicest study and who will lead you surely across Heaven and Earth
and without whom you risk becoming lost.
Do not resolve to know more than
others; inasmuch as you are able, strive to know
better than they what you plan to learn.
Each has his Sparta; the important thing is to become one of your city’s
chief adornments. Formerly the Thebans
carried off the honors for flute playing; the men of Mitylene were reputed to
be the most adroit in harp playing of anyone anywhere in Greece; and the
Aegeans passed for the most supple and robust athletes and wrestlers. Moreover, the city of Athens boasted that she
had given the world the best painters and sculptors, while Croton claimed to
furnish the wisest doctors. To recommend
a grammarian or a geometer, it sufficed to say that he hailed from Alexandria.[5] That is why the number of Muses is so
great. We can thus seek after the good
graces of the one who pleases us most, and then do all we can to obtain a place
of favor and esteem among her servants.
Your readings should always be
accompanied by meditation and accomplished in such a way that the resulting
reflections will be useful in the future.
Thus the lifting of your spirit must resemble the flight of the hawk
rather than that of the lark. The former
gains the heights to lay bare the countryside to its sight, pouncing on its
prey when timely. The other rises only
for amusement, and all its soaring ends up being a useless promenade. Do not doubt at all that by this means you
can discover some hitherto unnoticed aspects of the books you study. For these are the lands where, according to
Seneca’s fancy, the bull finds pasture, the dog finds the hares, and the stork,
the serpents.
It is a great secret to gather
carefully certain singular thoughts that occur to you while reading, and to
exercise your reason thereon immediately rather than later. You’ll forget them forever if you’re not
diligent. A scholar cannot amass any
more precious treasure, because, being all his own revenue, he owes none of it
to anyone. You perceive well that I do
not speak of those commonplaces of the mediocre which convey only other
people’s sentiments or are prettily expressed.
As easy as it is to collect remarkable stones among the pleasing shells
tossed up by the sea onto her shores, so much more difficult is it to plunge to
the bottom to pull up coral or to find the conches which yield the pearls
without price. It does not require great
industry or much work to gather beneath certain headings the opinions of
diverse books so that all the world can understand them at a glance. But few people know how to penetrate into the
hidden essence of the great authors, and many fewer still are capable of
finding in their writings anything that they had not previously conceived. Thus the Pomegranate, whose fruit is hidden
beneath the rind, was consecrated to Mercury,[6]
and it is from those seeds taken from the interior that you can make a laudable
collection which will serve your needs well.
©Translation and notes by April G. Shelford. Shelford’s Master’s thesis (SUNY-Albany, 1989) analyzed La Mothe Le Vayer’s principal work against the Jansenists, De la Vertu des Payens (1641). For an article based on the thesis, see “François de La Mothe Le Vayer and the Defence of Pagan Virtue,” The Seventeenth Century XV:1 (Spring 2000).
[1] Bedded by Zeus, the titan goddess
Mnemosyne gave birth to the nine muses.
Historians owe a particular debt to one of them, Clio. The sense of the tag is that the muses permit
themselves pleasures besides such important duties as inspiring epic
poetry. The Camenae were goddesses of a
spring near one of Rome’s gates who were identified
with the Muses from the first century B.C.E.
(Thanks to Valerie French, classicist and professor
emerita of AU’s History Department, for assistance in running down “Camenae.”)
[2] Humanist authors littered their
writings with references to classical culture, assuming that their readers had
received some advanced education.
Learning Latin and Greek (to a lesser extent) and becoming widely
familiar with classical culture were central to the humanist curriculum. A humanist education, like a college
education today, could open the door to social advancement, and it was required
for careers in medicine, law, and the church.
During La Mothe Le Vayer’s lifetime, only young boys were
permitted to study in a school setting.
A young girl might receive such training if an attentive relative
noticed her intellectual gifts and decided to develop them by hiring
tutors. Some women became renowned for
their learning, as did Anna Maria van Schurman of the Netherlands during La
Mothe Le Vayer’s lifetime. The
historical figures alluded to here are:
Archimedes, great Greek mathematician (third century B.C.E.); Carneades,
ancient skeptical philosopher (second century B.C.E.); Lucian, the Greek
rhetorician and satirist (second century C.E.);
and Seneca, the great Roman Stoic philosopher who was a particular
favorite of La Mothe Le Vayer and other early modern humanists and who was
eventually ordered to commit suicide by his infamous pupil, Nero, in 65 C.E.
[3] No works survive by Apelles, reputed to be the
greatest artist of antiquity (fourth century B.C.E).
[4] Latin tag: “He who
does not advance, loses ground.” Latin Phrases, http://www.answers.com/topic/qui-non-proficit-deficit The sense of the
second tag is the same. During the
seventeenth century, “science” was not
restricted to knowledge of the natural world as it is today. As a body of knowledge, theology was a science, for example.
[5] Sparta and Thebes were located in the
territory we now regard as Greece.
Croton was a Greek colony in southern Italy, while Mitylene was located
on the island of Lesbos off what is now the Turkish coast. Established by Alexander the Great in the
fourth century B.C.E., Alexandria became renowned throughout the ancient world
as a center of learning.
[6] Mercury (a.k.a. the Greek Hermes) was
the messenger of the gods. Why does La
Mothe Le Vayer connect him with pomegranates?
D.K., but Valerie French speculates that it might have something to do
with a cultic connection between Mercury and Ceres, goddess of agriculture, who
was explicitly associated with the fruit.