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1. Let Us now proceed, then, in due order, with a more exact
purpose, to explain this same point more thoroughly. And first,
since no one can love at all a thing of which he is wholly ignorant, we
must carefully consider of what sort is the love of those who are
studious, that is, of those who do not already know, but are still
desiring to know any branch of learning. Now certainly, in those
things whereof the word study is not commonly used, love often arises
from hearsay, when the reputation of anything for beauty inflames the
mind to the seeing and enjoying it; since the mind knows generically
wherein consist the beauties of corporeal things, from having seen them
very frequently, and since there exists within a faculty of approving
that which outwardly is longed for. And when this happens, the love
that is called forth is not of a thing wholly unknown, since its genus
is thus known. But when we love a good man whose face we never saw,
we love him from the knowledge of his virtues, which virtues we know
[abstractly] in the truth itself. But in the case of learning, it
is for the most part the authority of others who praise and commend it
that kindles our love of it; although nevertheless we could not burn
with any zeal at all for the study of it, unless we had already in our
mind at least a slight impression of the knowledge of each kind of
learning. For who, for instance, would devote any care and labor to
the learning of rhetoric, unless he knew before that it was tim science
of speaking? Sometimes, again, we marvel at the results of learning
itself, which we have heard of or experienced; and hence burn to
obtain, by learning, the power of attaining these results. Just as
if it were said to one who did not know his letters, that there is a
kind of learning which enables a man to send words, wrought with the
hand in silence, to one who is ever so far absent, for him in turn to
whom they are sent to gather these words, not with his ears, but with
his eyes; and if the man were to see the thing actually done, is not
that man, since he desires to know how he can do this thing,
altogether moved to study with a view to the result which he already
knows and holds? So it is that the studious zeal of those who learn is
kindled: for that of which any one is utterly ignorant, he can in no
way love.
2. So also, if any one hear an unknown sign, as, for instance,
the sound of some word of which he does not know the signification, he
desires to know what it is; that is, he desires to know what thing it
is which it is agreed shall be brought to mind by that sound: as if he
heard the word temetum uttered, and not knowing, should ask what it
is. He must then know already that it is a sign, i.e. that the word
is not an empty sound, but that something is signified by it; for in
other respects this trisyllabic word is known to him already, and has
already impressed its articulate form upon his mind through the sense of
hearing. And then what more is to be required in him, that he may go
on to a greater knowledge of that of which all the letters and all the
spaces of its several sounds are already known, unless that it shall at
the same time have become known to him that it is a sign, and shall
have also moved him with the desire of knowing of what it is the sign?
The more, then, the thing is known, yet not fully known, the more
the mind desires to know concerning it what remains to be known. For
if he knew it to be only such and such a spoken word, and did not know
that it was the sign of something, he would seek nothing further,
since the sensible thing is already perceived as far as it can be by the
sense. But because he knows it to be not only a spoken word, but also
a sign, he wishes to know it perfectly; and no sign is known
perfectly, except it be known of what it is the sign. He then who
with ardent carefulness seeks to know this, and inflamed by studious
zeal perseveres in the search; can such an one be said to be without
love?
What then does he love? For certainly nothing can be loved unless it
is known.
For that man does not love those three syllables which he knows
already. But if he loves this in them, that he knows them to signify
something, this is not the point now in question, for it is not this
which he seeks to know. But we are now asking what it is he loves, in
that which he is desirous to know, but which certainly he does not yet
know; and we are therefore wondering why he loves, since we know most
assuredly that nothing can be loved unless it be known. What then does
he love, except that he knows and perceives in the reason of things
what excellence there is in learning, in which the knowledge of all
signs is contained; and what benefit there is in the being skilled in
these, since by them human fellowship mutually communicates its own
perceptions, lest the assemblies of men should be actually worse than
utter solitude, if they were not to mingle their thoughts by conversing
together?
The soul, then, discerns this fitting and serviceable species, and
knows it, and loves it; and he who seeks the meaning of any words of
which he is ignorant, studies to render that species perfect in himself
as much as he can: for it is one thing to behold it in the light of
truth, another to desire it as within his own capacity. For he
beholds in the light of truth how great and how good a thing it is to
understand and to speak all tongues of all nations, and so to hear no
tongue and to be heard by none as from a foreigner. The beauty,
then, of this knowledge is already discerned by thought, and the thing
being known is loved; and that thing is so regarded, and so stimulates
the studious zeal of learners, that they are moved with respect to it,
and desire it eagerly in all the labor which they spend upon the
attainment of such a capacity, in order that they may also embrace in
practice that which they know beforehand by reason. And so every one,
the nearer he approaches that capacity in hope, the more fervently
desires it with love; for those branches of learning are studied the
more eagerly, which men do not despair of being able to attain; for
when any one entertains no hope of attaining his end, then he either
loves lukewarmly or does not love at all, howsoever he may see the
excellence of it. Accordingly, because the knowledge of all languages
is almost universally felt to be hopeless, every one studies most to
know that of his own nation; but if he feels that he is not sufficient
even to comprehend this perfectly, yet no one is so indolent in this
knowledge as not to wish to know, when he hears an unknown word, what
it is, and to seek and learn it if he can. And while he is seeking
it, certainly he has a studious zeal of learning, and seems to love a
thing he does not know; but the case is really otherwise. For that
species touches the mind, which the mind knows and thinks, wherein the
fitness is clearly visible which accrues from the associating of minds
with one another, in the hearing and returning of known and spoken
words. And this species kindles studious zeal in him who seeks what
indeed he knows not, but gazes upon and loves the unknown form to which
that pertains.
If then, for example, any one were to ask, What is temetum (for I
had instanced this word already), and it were said to him, What does
this matter to you? he will answer, Lest perhaps I hear some one
speaking, and understand him not; or perhaps read the word somewhere,
and know not what the writer meant. Who, pray, would say to such an
inquirer, Do not care about understanding what you hear; do not care
about knowing what you read? For almost every rational soul quickly
discerns the beauty of that knowledge, through which the thoughts of
men are mutually made known by the enunciation of significant words;
and it is on account of this fitness thus known, and because known
therefore loved, that such an unknown word is studiously sought out.
When then he hears and learns that wine was called "temetum" by our
forefathers, but that the word is already quite obsolete in our present
usage of language, he will think perhaps that he has still need of the
word on account of this or that book of those forefathers. But if he
holds. these also to be superfluous, perhaps he does now come to think
the word not worth remembering, since he sees it has nothing to do with
that species of learning which he knows with the mind, and gazes upon,
and so loves.
3. Wherefore in all cases the love of a studious mind, that is, of
one that wishes to know what it does not know, is not the love of that
thing which it does not know, but of that which it knows; on account
of which it wishes to know what it does not know. Or if it is so
inquisitive as to be carried away, not for any other cause known to
it, but by the mere love of knowing things unknown then such an
inquisitive person is, doubtless distinguishable from an ordinary
student, yet does not, any more than he, love things he does not
know; nay, on the contrary, he is more fitly said to hate things he
knows not, of which he wishes that there should be none, in wishing to
know everything. But lest any one should lay before us a more
difficult question, by declaring that it is just as impossible for any
one to hate what he does not know, as to love what he does not know we
will not withstand what is true; but it must be understood that it is
not the same thing to say he loves to know things unknown, as to say he
loves things unknown. For it is possible that a man may love to know
things unknown; but it is not possible that he should love things
unknown. For the word to know is not placed there without meaning;
since he who loves to know things unknown, does not love the unknown
things themselves, but the knowing of them. And unless he knew what
knowing means, no one could say confidently, either that he knew or
that he did not know. For not only he who says I know, and says so
truly, must needs know what knowing is; but he also who says, I do
not know, and says so confidently and truly, and knows that he says so
truly, certainly knows what knowing is; for he both distinguishes him
who does not know from him who knows, when he looks into himself and
says truly I do not know; and whereas he knows that he says this
truly, whence should he know it, if he did not know what knowing is?
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