Joannes Ludovicus Vives in Pseudo-dialecticos

Abstract

Quum existimarem futurum brevi, mi Fortis, ut Te Parisiis viderem, quo ire quotidie constituebam, credebam etiam me hæc eadem Tecum coram actutum, qux (quoniam per occupationes meas non licet mihiLovanio egredi, neque sat scio, quando istuc ibo) litteris sum modo necessario commissurus; neque enim duxi diutius differendum, quo minus redderem Te certiorem, quid jampridem expostulant mecum homines doctissimi, et amantissimi mei, quibus cum familiariter dum commentor, incidimusque in mentio renascentium litterarum, et simul cum illis, hoc est cum suo seminario disciplinarum omnium meliorum; id enim fere agimus, ut gratulemur nostro seculo maxime queri illi solent Parisiis, unde lux rotius eruditionis manare deberet, mordicus homines quosdam fædam amplecti barbariem, et cum æ monstra quædam disciplinarum, velut sophismata, ut ipsi Vocant, quibus nihil neque vanius est, neque stultius; qæ cum exactius homines nonnulli ingeniosi consectantur, tum sua bona ingenia perditum eunt, tum tamquam fertiles agri, sed in culti, magnam inutiliam herbarum procreant copiam, somninant et confungunt sibi ineptias ac novam quandam linguam quam ipsi soli intelligant.

Abstract

When I supposed, my dear Fortis, that I should see you presently in Paris, where I was daily planning to go, I thought I should also discuss these matters with you in person, but since my affairs prevent me from leaving Louvain and I am not sure when I shall go there, I am from mere necessity entrusting them to a letter. For I thought I should no longer delay to inform you of the complaints that learned scholars and loyal friends have for a long time now been making to me. When, in casual conversation, we happen to speak of the revival of letters and all the better branches of learning of which literature is the seed-plot — as we often do, thanks to our times —their chief complaint is that at Paris, whence the light of all learning should emanate, some men are obstinately embracing a detestable barbarism, and with it certain educational monstrosities, such as sophismata, as they call them, which are utterly empty and foolish.¹ When men of considerable talent pursue these subjects with close attention, then not only do their own high talents go to waste, but, like fertile yet uncultivated fields, they produce a great, useless crop of weeds.² They dream and devise for themselves absurdities and a kind of new language that they alone understand.