Laudator Temporis Acti

I do not believe that technological advances will fundamentally alter the way that classical texts are edited, but there have already been significant changes in how editions are constructed and how the information they contain is disseminated.

Some of those developments are distinctly worrisome. For example, what happens to textual criticism's focus on establishing the most reliable possible text in an environment in which texts circulate in electronic form and are downloaded from out-of-date or uncritical editions? In some respects, the use of electronic databases marks a return to conditions in the early days of printing, when editions of classical texts were usually reproductions of late manuscripts of no special merit.

The banker's world which we have made or by which we are held prisoners, is a monstrosity, a disease, a product of sin.

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell on earth. Their very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be "cured" against one's will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level with those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.

The figures Theophrastus describes, all of whom exemplify bad qualities, seem to have stepped out of the cartoons of an Athenian James Thurber. They include the Toady, who laughs so hard at a great man's jokes that he has to stuff his cloak into his mouth to control himself; the Superstitious Man, who will not step on a tombstone, approach a pregnant woman or a corpse, or pass a crossroads without making a libation; the Chatterbox, who is as likely to tell you "I threw up yesterday" as to give you the price of wheat, and does not care if either fact interests you; and the Talker, whose logorrhea menaces the entire city: "on a jury he prevents others from reaching a verdict, at the theatre from watching the play, at dinner from getting on with their meal."⁶ As so often, an ancient text turns out, like the Mad Gardener's rattlesnake, to be the Middle of Next Week—or at least next week's faculty meetings and dinner parties.

6. Theophrastus, Characters 7.1; 2.4; 16.5, 9; 3.3; 7.8, trans. Diggle 2004.

Here, sheltered by the bushes, I sat and saw the sun go down, and the long twilight deepen till the oak woods of Beaulieu in the west looked black on the horizon, and the stars came out: in spite of the cold wind that made me shiver in my thin clothes, I sat there for hours, held by the silence and solitariness of that mound of the ancient dead.

Sitting there, profoundly sad for no apparent cause, with no conscious thought in my mind, it suddenly occurred to me that I knew that spot from of old, that in long past forgotten years I had often come there of an evening and sat through the twilight, in love with the loneliness and peace, wishing that it might be my last resting-place. To sleep there for ever—the sleep that knows no waking! We say it, but do not mean—do not believe it. Dreams do come to give us pause; and we know that we have lived. To dwell alone, then, with this memory of life in such a spot for all time! There are moments in which the thought of death steals upon and takes us as it were by surprise, and it is then exceeding bitter. It was as if that cold wind blowing over and making strange whispers in the heather had brought a sudden tempest of icy rain to wet and chill me.

This miserable sensation soon passed away, and, with quieted heart, I began to grow more and more attracted by the thought of resting on so blessed a spot. To have always about me that wildness which I best loved—the rude incult heath, the beautiful desolation; to have harsh furze and ling and bramble and bracken to grow on me, and only wild creatures for visitors and company. The little stonechat, the tinkling meadow pipit, the excited whitethroat to sing to me in summer; the deep-burrowing rabbit to bring down his warmth and familar smell among my bones; the heat-loving adder, rich in colour, to find when summer is gone a dry safe shelter and hibernaculum in my empty skull.

Whatever you are about to say, examine first in your thought, for in many the tongue outruns the intention.

Make two occasions for speaking, either when you know the subject clearly, or when there is compulsion to discuss it, for on these occasions alone speech is better than silence; on others, it is better to be silent than to speak.

πᾶν ὅ τι ἂν μέλλῃς ἐρεῖν, πρότερον ἐπισκόπει τῇ γνώμῃ· πολλοῖς γὰρ ἡ γλῶττα προτρέχει τῆς διανοίας.

δύο ποιοῦ καιροὺς τοῦ λέγειν, ἢ περὶ ὧν οἶσθα σαφῶς, ἢ περὶ ὧν ἀναγκαῖον εἰπεῖν. ἐν τούτοις γὰρ μόνοις ὁ λόγος τῆς σιγῆς κρείττων, ἐν δὲ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἄμεινον σιγᾶν ἢ λέγειν.

Men must die, so why should anyone crouch in darkness,
aimlessly nursing an undistinguished old age,
without a share in glorious deeds?

θανεῖν δ᾽ οἷσιν ἀνάγκα, τά κέ τις ἀνώνυμον
γῆρας ἐν σκότῳ καθήμενος ἕψοι μάταν,
ἁπάντων καλῶν ἄμμορος;

The true splendour of Pindar's world lies not in the hopes of radiant rewards after death, but in the worth of high endeavours for their own sake as proof of a man's courage and efforts. It is these that bring glory, and glory is the highest happiness and the richest reward in which a man can put his trust. Undying renown is for Pindar a more substantial consolation than any after-life below the earth or beyond the western sea.

Very ready we are to say of a book, "How good this is—that's exactly what I think!" But the right feeling is, "How strange that is! I never thought of that before, and yet I see it is true; or if I do not now, I hope I shall, some day." But whether thus submissively or not, at least be sure that you go to the author to get at his meaning, not to find yours. Judge it afterwards, if you think yourself qualified to do so; but ascertain it first. And be sure also, if the author is worth anyhing, that you will not get at his meaning all at once;—nay, that at his whole meaning you will not for a long time arrive in any wise.

A happy man or woman is a better thing to find than a five-pound note. He or she is a radiating focus of good will; and their entrance into a room is as though another candle had been lighted. We need not care whether they could prove the forty-seventh proposition; they do a better thing than that, they practically demonstrate the great Theorem of the Livableness of Life.

The most dangerous untruths are truths slightly distorted.

Die gefährlichsten Unwahrheiten sind Wahrheiten mäßig entstellt.

Still, we should not fight harshly with one another, but should rather make a calm inquiry about the present matters...

δεῖ δὲ οὐδὲν σκληρῶς ἡμᾶς αὐτοῖς διαμάχεσθαι τὰ νῦν ἀλλ᾽ ἠρέμα ἀνερωτᾶν...

In any case he would not be restricted to attending theology lectures, and, according to Deussen, he and Nietzsche had both been attracted to Bonn by the presence of two philologists, Albrecht Ritschl and Otto Jahn. Jahn was a pioneer in the study of Greek art; Ritschl was known for his work on Plautus and early Latin.

Labels: typographical and other errors

And in athletic games that man wins the longed-for glory who, victorious by his hands or the speed of his feet, has his hair tied with many crowns. Men's ability is decided, in the event, by the gods. Two things alone cultivate the sweetest perfection of life in flourishing prosperity—if one achieves success and gains a good name. Do not try to be Zeus! You have everything if you win these prizes. Mortal things suit mortal men.

ἔν τ᾽ ἀγωνίοις ἀέθλοισι ποθεινὸν
κλέος ἔπραξεν, ὅντιν᾽ ἀθρόοι στέφανοι
χερσὶ νικάσαντ᾽ ἀνέδησαν ἔθειραν
ἢ ταχυτᾶτι ποδῶν.        10
κρίνεται δ᾽ ἀλκὰ διὰ δαίμονας ἀνδρῶν.
δύο δέ τοι ζωᾶς ἄωτον μοῦνα ποιμαί-
    νοντι τὸν ἄλπνιστον εὐανθεῖ σὺν ὄλβῳ,
εἴ τις εὖ πάσχων λόγον ἐσλὸν ἀκούῃ.
μὴ μάτευε Ζεὺς γενέσθαι· πάντ᾽ ἔχεις,
εἴ σε τούτων μοῖρ᾽ ἐφίκοιτο καλῶν.        15
θνατὰ θνατοῖσι πρέπει.

How is an ordinary citizen or subject of the King to stand up against this formidable machine, which, once it is in power, will prescribe for every one of them where they are to work; what they are to work at; where they may go and what they may say; what views they are to hold and within what limits they may express them; where their wives are to go to queue up for the State ration; and what education their children are to receive to mould their views of human liberty and conduct in the future?

Fear the gods; honor your parents; respect your friends; obey the laws.

τοὺς μὲν θεοὺς φοβοῦ, τοὺς δὲ γονεῖς τίμα, τοὺς δὲ φίλους αἰσχύνου, τοῖς δὲ νόμοις πείθου.

There are three virtues you should practise, child:
to honour the gods, the parents who begot you,
and the common laws of Greece. If you do these things,
you will always have good repute, the fairest of crowns.

τρεῖς εἰσιν ἀρεταὶ τὰς χρεών σ᾿ ἀσκεῖν, τέκνον,
θεούς τε τιμᾶν τούς τε φύσαντας γονῆς
νόμους τε κοινοὺς Ἑλλάδος· καὶ ταῦτα δρῶν
κάλλιστον ἕξεις στέφανον εὐκλείας ἀεί.

It was evident from the beginning that Primianus' party intended to do everything possible to evade the central issue, that is, the question as to which party was the true Christian Church in Africa. The Donatists resorted to all sorts of subterfuges in order to delay and confuse the proceedings. Petilianus and Emeritus were the leaders in this procedure. An almost comic example of this sort of thing occurred on the first day. Marcellinus, opening the meeting, asked the two groups to sit down. Immediately, Petilianus, speaking for his fellow Donatists, refused. He explained that they were obeying the Scriptural injunction against the "just" sitting down with the "impious."⁴¹ Marcellinus asked the Donatists to reconsider but they were adamant. As a result of this foolishness, the more than five hundred bishops stood up through three days of disputation, because the Catholics could hardly remain seated when their opponents stood.

⁴¹ Collat. Carthag., I, 144-145; PL 11, 1319; and II, 3; PL 11, 1353-1354. Cf. Monceaux, op. cit., VI, 63.

The foundation of all democracy is that the people have the right to vote. To deprive them of that right is to make a mockery of all the high-sounding phrases which are so often used. At the bottom of all the tributes paid to democracy is the little man, walking into the little booth, with a little pencil, making a little cross on a little bit of paper — no amount of rhetoric or voluminous discussion can possibly diminish the overwhelming importance of that point.

Labels: typographical and other errors

He [Theogenes] was called "Smoke," because he promised much but never delivered—Eupolis in Demes.

ἐκαλεῖτο δὲ Καπνὸς, ὅτι πολλὰ ὑπισχνούμενος οὐδὲν ἐτέλει. Εὔπολις ἐν Δήμοις.

As illustration, some recorded instances of the speed of travel in republican times may be adduced. The messenger with the news of the victory at Pydna covered the distance from Macedonia to Rome in 12 days (Liv. 45.1.11), but this was an extraordinary feat, and was recorded by Livy as such. For a private letter a journey of 46 days from Rome to Cilicia (and in the best season of the year) was regarded by Cicero as a remarkably short time (Cic., Att. 5.19.1), which is wholly understandable as at the same time a letter from Epirus to Laodicea in Cilicia traveled (in winter) 48 days (Cic., Att. 6.1.1, 22; cf. L.W. Hunter, JRS 3 [1913] 91). A letter sent by Cassius from Syria on 7 May 43 reached Rome some days before the end of June (Cic., Fam. 12.10.1-2; 12.12.5), rather a good time, especially when taking into account disturbances of the civil war. In the summer of 47 a freedman of C. Trebonius covered the distance from Seleucia Pieria (the port of Antioch) to Brundisium in 27 days (Cic., Att. 11.20.1). But this establishes only a general pattern: the speed of any particular travel depended upon too many unpredictable factors. Cf. W. Riepl, Das Nachrichtenwesen des Altertums (Leipzig 1913) 205ff; Reineke, RE 16 (1935) 1539-1540. On the speed of sea travel, see the fundamental study of L. Casson, "Speed under Sail of Ancient Ships," ΤΑΡΑ 82 (1951) 136-148.

Diplomacy he claimed to be his strong point; it usually is with those who have no knowledge, and are profound by reason of their emptiness; and, indeed, this kind of skill possesses one signal advantage, for it can only be displayed in the conduct of the affairs of the great, and when discretion is the quality required, a man who knows nothing can safely say nothing, and take refuge in a mysterious shake of the head; in fact, the cleverest practitioner is he who can swim with the current and keep his head well above the stream of events which he appears to control, a man's fitness for this business varying inversely as his specific gravity.

Il se prétendait fort en diplomatie, la science de ceux qui n'en ont aucune et qui sont plus profonds par leur vide; science d'ailleurs fort commode, en ce sens qu'elle se démontre par l'exercice même de ses hauts emplois; que voulant des hommes discrets, elle permet aux ignorants de ne rien dire, de se retrancher dans des hochements de tête mystérieux; et qu'enfin l'homme le plus fort en cette science est celui qui nage en tenant sa tête au-dessus du fleuve des événements qu'il semble alors conduire, ce qui devient une question de légèreté spécifique.

It is not easy to think too much, but it is easy to read too much. The more things I think about, the more I endeavor to associate them with my experiences and my own system of thought, the stronger I become. With reading it is the contrary; I extend myself without increasing my strength. When I notice in my thinking gaps I cannot fill or difficulties I cannot overcome, I must consult a book and read. Either this is how one becomes useful, or there is no way.

Man kann nicht leicht über zu vielerlei denken, aber man kann über zu vielerlei lesen. Über je mehrere Gegenstände ich denke, das heißt, sie mit meinen Erfahrungen und meinem Gedankensystem in Verbindung zu bringen suche, desto mehr Kraft gewinne ich. Mit dem Lesen ist es umgekehrt: ich breite mich aus, ohne mich zu stärken. Merke ich bei meinem Denken Lücken, die ich nicht ausfüllen, und Schwierigkeiten, die ich nicht überwinden kann, so muß ich nachschlagen und lesen. Entweder dieses ist das Mittel, ein brauchbarer Mann zu werden, oder es gibt gar keines.

For Hunger is altogether a meet comrade for the sluggard. Both gods and men are angry with a man who lives idle, for in nature he is like the stingless drones who waste the labour of the bees, eating without working; but let it be your care to order your work properly, that in the right season your barns may be full of victual. Through work men grow rich in flocks and substance, and working they are much better loved by the immortals. Work is no disgrace: it is idleness which is a disgrace. But if you work, the idle will soon envy you as you grow rich, for fame and renown attend on wealth. And whatever be your lot, work is best for you, if you turn your misguided mind away from other men's property to your work and attend to your livelihood as I bid you.

Λιμὸς γάρ τοι πάμπαν ἀεργῷ σύμφορος ἀνδρί.
τῷ δὲ θεοὶ νεμεσῶσι καὶ ἀνέρες, ὅς κεν ἀεργὸς
ζώῃ, κηφήνεσσι κοθούροις εἴκελος ὀργήν,
οἵ τε μελισσάων κάματον τρύχουσιν ἀεργοὶ        305
ἔσθοντες· σοὶ δ᾽ ἔργα φίλ᾽ ἔστω μέτρια κοσμεῖν,
ὥς κέ τοι ὡραίου βιότου πλήθωσι καλιαί.
ἐξ ἔργων δ᾽ ἄνδρες πολύμηλοί τ᾽ ἀφνειοί τε·
καί τ᾽ ἐργαζόμενος πολὺ φίλτερος ἀθανάτοισιν
ἔσσεαι ἠδὲ βροτοῖς· μάλα γὰρ στυγέουσιν ἀεργούς.        310
ἔργον δ᾽ οὐδὲν ὄνειδος, ἀεργίη δέ τ᾽ ὄνειδος·
εἰ δέ κεν ἐργάζῃ, τάχα σε ζηλώσει ἀεργὸς
πλουτέοντα· πλούτῳ δ᾽ ἀρετὴ καὶ κῦδος ὀπηδεῖ·
δαίμονι δ᾽ οἷος ἔῃσθα, τὸ ἐργάζεσθαι ἄμεινον,
εἴ κεν ἀπ᾽ ἀλλοτρίων κτεάνων ἀεσίφρονα θυμὸν        315
εἰς ἔργον τρέψας μελετᾷς βίου, ὥς σε κελεύω.

1 Forthwith, without delay, immediately.

[....]

b immediately from the beginning, from the first.

[....]

c (in an enumeration of places) immediately thereafter.

[....]

2 Without further evidence, without more ado; (esp. w. neg. expressed or implied in qu.) necessarily, in consequence.

[....]

3 Without intermission, continuously.

The word is commonly rendered as "immediately"; Cicero, however, (as is easily seen from the examples in Merguet's dictionary) uses it often to indicate that between two closely connected events no other event occurred bearing upon them.³⁶ Thus the length of time indicated by continuo may vary considerably, as is also true of other similar expressions like mox and nuper.

³⁶ Cf. esp. Cael. 9; Vat. 36: quis legatos umquam audivit sine senatus consulto? Ante te nemo: post (i.e., after 59) continuo (i.e., in 58) fecit idem . . . Clodius.

Labels: lexicography

Here are more facts that I have learned touching ants. So indefatigable, so ready to work are they, without making excuses, without any base plea for release, without alleging reasons that are a cloak for indolence, that not even at night when the moon is full do they remain idle and take holiday, but stick to their occupation.

Look at you men—devising endless pretexts and excuses for idling! What need is there to detail and pour out the full number of these occasions? Proclaimed as holidays are the Dionysia, the Lenaea, the Festival of Pots, Causeway Day: go to Sparta, and there are others: others again at Thebes: and an endless number in every city, some in a foreign, others in a Greek city.

πέπυσμαι δὲ ὑπὲρ τῶν μυρμήκων καὶ ταῦτα. οὕτως ἄρα αὐτοῖς τὸ ἐθελουργὸν καὶ τὸ ἐθελόπονον πάρεστιν ἀπροφασίστως καὶ ἄνευ τινὸς ὑποτιμήσεως ἐθελοκακούσης καὶ σκήψεως, ἐς ἣν ὑποικουρεῖ τὸ ῥᾴθυμον, ὡς κἀν3 ταῖς πανσελήνοις μηδὲ νύκτωρ βλακεύειν μηδὲ ἐλινύειν, ἀλλ᾿ ἔχεσθαι τῆς σπουδῆς.

ὦ ἄνθρωποι, μυρίας προφάσεις τε καὶ σκήψεις ἐς τὸ ῥᾳστωνεύειν ἐπινοοῦντες. καὶ τί δεῖ καταλέγειν τε καὶ ἐπαντλεῖν τὸν τοσοῦτον ὄχλον; κεκήρυκται γὰρ Διονύσια καὶ Λήναια καὶ Χύτροι καὶ Γεφυρισμοί, καὶ μετελθόντων ἐς τὴν Σπάρτην ἄλλα καὶ ἐς Θήβας ἄλλα καὶ κατὰ πόλιν μυρία ἑκάστην τὰ μὲν βάρβαρον τὰ δὲ Ἑλλάδα.

Volturnalem Palatualem Furrinalem
Floralemque Falacrem et Pomonalem fecit
Hic idem.

Volturnalem Palatualem Furinalem
Floralemque Falacrem et Pomonalem fecit
hic idem.

He [Numa Pompilius] likewise established the priests of Volturnus, of Palatua, of Furina, of Flora, of Falacer, and of Pomona.

                                     Volturnalem
Palatualem Furinalem Floralemque
Falacrem<que> et Pomonalem fecit hic idem

116 sqq. uersus dist. Lachm.

116.3 qui te lenirem nobis neu conarere. Fordyce, like F. Vollmer, Römische Metrik, p. 11 in Gercke-Norden, Einl. in die Altertumswissenschaft, repeats the statement by Baehrens and Thomas that this is the only hexameter consisting entirely of spondees to be found outside Ennius. Iuuencus 4.233 is another.

• Some Lines in Lucretius
• Asyndeton Filling Hexameters
• Asyndeton Filling Hexameters in Sidonius
• Verse-Filling Asyndeton
• Verse-Filling Asyndeton: Some Greek Examples
• Another Greek Example of Verse-Filling Asyndeton
• More Examples of Asyndeton Filling Hexameters
• Asyndeton Filling Hexameters in Corippus
• Twelve Gods (Ennius)
• Seven Cities
• A Hexameter Consisting of Nouns in Asyndeton
• More Hexameters Consisting of Words in Asyndeton
• Hexameters Consisting of Words in Asyndeton: Dracontius
• Zopyrus' Victims
• A Latin Hexameter Consisting of Adjectives in Asyndeton
• Hexameters Consisting Entirely of Words in Asyndeton: More Greek Examples
• A Sojourn in the Country
• Destruction
• Hexameters Consisting Entirely of Words in Asyndeton: A Horatian Example
• Asyndeton Filling Hexameters: Bernard of Cluny, De Contemptu Mundi, Book I
• A Good Land
• A Greek Hexameter Consisting of Adjectives in Asyndeton
• Trifles
• Some Hexameters in Heiric of Auxerre's Life of St. Germanus

It is almost impossible to carry the torch of truth through a crowd without singeing someone's beard.

Es ist fast unmöglich, die Fackel der Wahrheit durch ein Gedränge zu tragen, ohne jemanden den Bart zu versengen.

'Ay, to be sure the woman is in the right, and the man in the wrong always.'

There was, it is true, another Greek city-state, Selinus, between Acragus and the Phoenician tip...

By the spring of 416 B.C. the Carthaginians were ready.

Labels: typographical and other errors

lich-gate | lych-gate, n. < LICH n. corpse + GATE n.¹ archaic. The roofed gateway to a churchyard under which the corpse is set down, to await the clergyman's arrival.

The fierce and bitter controversies which hung around him in recent times were hushed by the news of his illness and are silenced by his death. In paying a tribute of respect and of regard to an eminent man who has been taken from us, no one is obliged to alter the opinions which he has formed or expressed upon issues which have become a part of history; but at the Lychgate we must all pass our own conduct and our own judgments under a searching review.

It is not given to human beings, happily for them, for otherwise life would be intolerable, to foresee or to predict to any large extent the unfolding course of events. In one phase men seem to have been right, in another they seem to have been wrong. Then again, a few years later, when the perspective of time has lengthened, all stands in a different setting. There is a new proportion. There is another scale of values. History with its flickering lamp stumbles along the trail of the past, trying to reconstruct its scenes, to revive its echoes, and kindle with pale gleams the passion of former days.

What is the worth of all this? The only guide to a man is his conscience; the only shield to his memory is the rectitude and sincerity of his actions. It is very imprudent to walk through life without this shield, because we are so often mocked by the failure of our hopes and the upsetting of our calculations; but with this shield, however the fates may play, we march always in the ranks of honour.

There remains even unto this day evidence of their moderate fare and of their working off by exercise what they eat: for even to the present time it is a breach of decorum for a Persian to spit or to blow his nose or to appear afflicted with flatulence; it is a breach of decorum also to be seen going apart either to make water or for anything else of that kind.

καὶ νῦν δὲ ἔτι ἐμμένει μαρτύρια καὶ τῆς μετρίας διαίτης αὐτῶν καὶ τοῦ ἐκπονεῖσθαι τὴν δίαιταν. αἰσχρὸν μὲν γὰρ ἔτι καὶ νῦν ἐστι Πέρσαις καὶ τὸ πτύειν καὶ τὸ ἀπομύττεσθαι καὶ τὸ φύσης μεστοὺς φαίνεσθαι, αἰσχρὸν δέ ἐστι καὶ τὸ ἰόντα ποι φανερὸν γενέσθαι ἢ τοῦ οὐρῆσαι ἕνεκα ἢ καὶ ἄλλου τινὸς τοιούτου.

πτύειν Cobet: ἀποπτύειν codd.

Non debebat punctum temporis Editor dubitare quin πτύειν pro ἀποπτύειν verum esset et recipiendum. Perinde est ac si respuere quis vellet dicere pro spuere vel sputare. Adhaesit praepositio ex sq. ἀπομύττεσθαι.

One last point of introduction: Servius' commentary will be quoted frequently in what follows. I have come to find Servius of far greater value than anything written on Virgil since. Servius' commentary is a compilation, a variorum, part of which must go back four centuries to comments of various sorts made soon after the first publication of Virgil's poems. (For this reason I have not found it worthwhile here to attempt to distinguish consistently between Servius and Servius Auctus—the Donatus commentary.) These notes are often valuable in two ways. First, they illuminate because so frequently they provide us with a set of ideas entirely different from our own, an entirely neglected view of a word, or phrase, or passage that proves reasonably to have been Virgil's intention, long forgotten or overlooked simply because his own terms had been forgotten; understanding the Georgics is so often a matter of seeing the exact terms used in any passage. Second, even when a comment seems to us trivial, unnecessary, or silly, it often indicates that in antiquity some problem existed, that a line that seems clear enough to us seemed then to call for explanation, either because we simply don't see what bothered an ancient reader, or (as I suspect may frequently be the case) a comment, good and informed in itself, elicited another (but trivial) comment later, after which the informed comment dropped from the tradition, leaving only the dross to mark the place. I cite Servius, then, whenever I feel that what is there recorded provides a possible indication of the truth, known once and since forgotten.

What the devil do you mean, putting me off with all this shilly-shallying like a pair of stupid children? 'I won't; I will; then, I will, I won't; take it, give it back; take what's said as unsaid, cancel what was just agreed.'

quid vos, malum, ergo me sic ludificamini
inepti vostra puerili sententia?
nolo, volo; volo, nolo rursum; cape, cedo;        950
quod dictum indictumst; quod modo erat ratum irritumst.

949 sententia codd.: inconstantia Kayser

Note how the chiasmus, repetitions, and iterative phonetics provide a sing-song end rhyme, which we can imagine would couple well with a bit of hyperbolic mimicry: nolo, volo; volo, nolo rursum; cape, cedo. And in the final line the chiasmus and iteration provide something of a tongue twister: quod DICT(um) ¬INDICTumst. quod eRAT RAT(um) ¬IRRATumst.

Each one hopes that if he feeds the crocodile enough, the crocodile will eat him last. All of them hope that the storm will pass before their turn comes to be devoured. But I fear — I fear greatly — the storm will not pass. It will rage and it will roar, ever more loudly, ever more widely.

Very few wars have been won by mere numbers alone. Quality, will-power, geographical advantages, natural and financial resources, the command of the sea, and, above all, a cause which rouses the spontaneous surgings of the human spirit in millions of hearts — these have proved to be the decisive factors in the human story. If it were otherwise, how would the race of men have risen above the apes; how otherwise would they have conquered and extirpated dragons and monsters; how would they have ever evolved the moral theme; how would they have marched forward across the centuries to broad conceptions of compassion, of freedom, and of right? How would they ever have discerned those beacon lights which summon and guide us across the rough dark waters, and presently will guide us across the flaming lines of battle towards better days which lie beyond?

And they bring one another to trial also charged with an offence for which people hate one another most but go to law least, namely, that of ingratitude; and if they know that any one is able to return a favour and fails to do so, they punish him also severely. For they think that the ungrateful are likely to be most neglectful of their duty toward their gods, their parents, their country, and their friends; for it seems that shamelessness goes hand in hand with ingratitude; and it is that, we know, which leads the way to every moral wrong.

δικάζουσι δὲ καὶ ἐγκλήματος οὗ ἕνεκα ἄνθρωποι μισοῦσι μὲν ἀλλήλους μάλιστα, δικάζονται δὲ ἥκιστα, ἀχαριστίας, καὶ ὃν ἂν γνῶσι δυνάμενον μὲν χάριν ἀποδιδόναι, μὴ ἀποδιδόντα δέ, κολάζουσι καὶ τοῦτον ἰσχυρῶς. οἴονται γὰρ τοὺς ἀχαρίστους καὶ περὶ θεοὺς ἂν μάλιστα ἀμελῶς ἔχειν καὶ περὶ γονέας καὶ πατρίδα καὶ φίλους. ἕπεσθαι δὲ δοκεῖ μάλιστα τῇ ἀχαριστίᾳ ἡ ἀναισχυντία· καὶ γὰρ αὕτη μεγίστη δοκεῖ εἶναι ἐπὶ πάντα τὰ αἰσχρὰ ἡγεμών.

I hate ingratitude more in a man,
Than lying vainness, babbling drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.

Ingratitude is among them a capital crime, as we read it to have been in some other countries: for they reason thus, that whoever makes ill returns to his benefactor, must needs be a common enemy to the rest of mankind, from whom he hath received no obligation, and therefore such a man is not fit to live.

And earth who herself bestowed the body takes it back and wastes not a whit.

                                           terra<que> corpus
quae dedit ipsa capit neque dispendi facit hilum.

que add. Bergk

• Earth and Sky
• Earth to Earth, Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

Look here, sir, everything sounds worse if it's told all wrong. You leave out all the good bits and only mention the bad ones.

                                   nil est, Antipho,
quin male narrando possit depravarier.
tu id quod bonist excerpis, dicis quod malist.

But if you constantly focus on what's making you unhappy, and don't balance it against the anticipated benefits, you'll always be miserable.

                                              ἂν δ' ἐκλέγῃ‎
ἀεὶ τὸ λυποῦν‎, μηδὲν ἀντιπαρατιθὶς‎
τῶν προσδοκωμένων‎, ὀδυνήσῃ διὰ τέλους.

Once when Fjolnir went to visit Fróthi on the Island of Selund, a great banquet had been prepared and many had been invited from near and far. Fróthi had a large estate, and a vat had been built there, many ells high, and reinforced by stout timbers. It stood on the lower floor of a storehouse, and above it was a balcony with an opening in the floor, so that liquids could be poured down, and mead mixed in it. An exceedingly strong drink had been prepared. In the evening Fjolnir and his retinue were led to lodgings in a loft close by. During the night he went out on the balcony to find a place to relieve himself. He was drowsy with sleep and dead drunk, and on his way back to his lodgings he went along the balcony and to the wrong loft door and through it. He missed his footing and fell into the mead vat and drowned.

We are of course foreigners in the Roman world, in language, culture, and thought, as every classicist is aware. We do not feel anything sinister or magical in an ash tree. Infatuation, for us, is the proper concern of psychiatrists. We know what causes violent storms, our hurricanes and tornadoes, and in the case of the former, at least, we know beforehand exactly when and where they will strike; and we have agencies, public and private, to pick up the pieces afterwards and pay insurance claims. Glory is a concept we know only by hearsay, a somewhat archaic notion that has been replaced by notoriety or celebrity.

It's your cooking, you must eat it.

tute hoc intristi, tibi omnest exedendum.

παροιμία apta parasito, quia de cibo est.

A proverb suited to a parasite, since it's about food.

For it is the practice of the Frankish kings never to have their hair cut. It is never cut from childhood onwards and each individual lock hangs right down over the shoulders, since the front ones are parted on the forehead and hang down on either side. It is not, however, like that of the Turks and Avars, unkempt, dry and dirty and tied up in an unsightly knot. On the contrary they treat it with all kinds of soap and comb it very carefully. Custom has reserved this practice for royalty as a sort of distinctive badge and prerogative. Subjects have their hair cut all round, and are strictly forbidden to grow it any longer.

θεμιτὸν γὰρ τοῖς βασιλεῦσι τῶν Φράγγων οὐπώποτε κείρεσθαι, ἀλλ’ ἀκειρεκόμαι τέ εἰσιν ἐκ παίδων ἀεὶ, καὶ παρῃώρηνται αὐτοῖς ἅπαντες εὖ μάλα ἐπὶ τῶν ὤνμων οἱ πλόκαμοι· ἐπεὶ καὶ οἱ ἐμπρόσθιοι ἐκ τοῦ μετώπου σχιζόμενοι, ἐφ’ ἑκάτερα φέρονται. οὐ μὴν ὥσπερ οἱ τῶν Τούρκων τε καὶ Ἀβαρῶν ἀπέκτητοι καὶ αὐχμηροὶ καὶ ῥυπῶντες, καὶ ἐνέρσει ἀπρεπῶς ἀναπεπλεγμένοι, ἀλλὰ ῥύμματα γὰρ ἐπιβάλλουσιν αὐτοῖς ποικίλα, καὶ ἐς τὸ ἀκριβὲς διαξαίνουσι. τοῦτο δὲ ὥσοπερ τι γνώρισμα καὶ γέρας ἐξαιρετὸν τῷ βασιλείῳ γένει ἀνεῖσθαι νενόμισται· ἐπεὶ τό γε ὑπήκοον περίτροχα κείρονται, καὶ κομᾷν αὐτοῖς περαιτέρω οὐ μάλα ἐφεῖται.

The best poetry should be the common ground of all creeds and of all parties. What a blessing it is that we do not know what "party" or "Church" or no-Church Shakespeare "belonged to"; and the innate conservatism of Paradise Lost so neatly balances Milton's Republicanism that he remains a national instead of a party asset. Poetry unites those whom all other writing divides. It is a body of scripture, almost a religion, common to those who, though not of one opinion in everything, seek some method by which to approach one another on subjects of deepest feeling and importance. Liberal spirits and pious souls would have greater difficulty in understanding each other, if it were not for Milton, Wordsworth and Shelley, and the emotions to which they give the most perfect expression. If poetry were at all widely understood and loved, we should find among men more of those several qualities to engender which is the true function of religion and of free thought, of conservative and liberal movements.

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this pow'rful rhyme,
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,        5
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword, nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death, and all oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth, your praise shall still find room,        10
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
    So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
    You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.

Neither marble nor princes' gilded monuments shall outlive these verses: you shall shine more bright in them than unswept stone, dirty with decay. When wasteful war shall overturn statues and throw down buildings, neither sword nor fire shall destroy the living record of your memory. Against death and injurious oblivion shall you go forward: your praise shall still find place even in the eyes of posterity, until doomsday ends the world. So, till the day of judgment calls you to arise, you will live on in this and in the eyes of lovers.

All that one can say about this famous sonnet, this splendid incantation, is to notice the outburst of confidence in his verse on the part of the poet. Perhaps it came, naturally enough, along with the relief of his anxiety. Nor was he wrong: wars have come and gone, London been twice burnt down, yet Shakespeare's friend goes on immortally in his verse, as the poet assured him.

1–2 Not marble . . . rhyme Horace, Odes 3.30.1–9 and Ovid, Met. 15.871–9 are the chief precedents for this confident affirmation of the power of verse to immortalize. Golding 15.983–95: ‘Now have I brought a work to end which neither Jove’s fierce wrath, | Nor sword, nor fire, nor fretting age with all the force it hath | Are able to abolish quite. Let come that fatal hour | Which (saving of this brittle flesh) hath over me no power, | And at his pleasure make an end of mine uncertain time. | Yet shall the better part of me assurèd be to climb | Aloft above the starry sky. And all the world shall never | Be able for to quench my name. For look how far so ever | The Roman Empire by the right of conquest shall extend, | So far shall all folk read this work. And time without all end | (If poets as by prophecy about the truth may aim) | My life shall everlastingly be lengthened still by fame’. This poem differs from its predecessors in two respects: (a) The poet immortalizes not himself, as Horace and Ovid do, but the friend, whose literary afterlife gives him enough vitality to pace forth (l. 10); (b) Horace and Ovid both make the life of their verse coextensive with the sway of the Roman Empire in time and space; Shakespeare promises endurance in all lands (all posterity, l. 11) until Judgement Day (the ending doom, l. 12).This poem also notably fails to record any of the friend’s achievements or actions. It is the poem’s tenacity of remembrance rather than the deeds of the friend which is celebrated.

1 monuments ‘A monument is a thing erected, made or written, for a memorial of some remarkable action, fit to be transferred to future posterities. And thus generally taken, all religious Foundations, all sumptuous and magnificent structures, Cities, Towns, Towers, Castles, Pillars, Pyramids, Crosses, Obelisks, Amphitheatres, Statues and the like, as well as Tombs and Sepulchres, are called Monuments’, John Weever, Ancient Funerall Monuments (1631), 1.

2 pow’rful Q marks this as disyllabic by spelling it ‘powrefull’. ‘Power’ is usually monosyllabic and usually spelt ‘powre’ in Q. The only exception is 65.2, when ‘power’ rhymes with ‘flower’ in what may be a feminine rhyme.

3 contents ‘The sum or substance of what is contained in a document; tenor, purport’; hence ‘in the matter of these poems’ (OED 3a); here, as normally before the nineteenth century, accented ‘contènt’.

4 besmeared with sluttish time Most editors gloss ‘dirtied over by the filthy servant time’, in which sluttish is taken to mean ‘Of persons:Dirty and untidy in dress and habits’ (OED 1). ‘Besmeared with’, however, indicates that time is not the agent causing the dirt to spread on the monument, but that it is the substance with which it is besmeared (DuBellay’s poems on the Antiquitez de Rome frequently refer to the ‘poudreuse cendre’ (1.1), the dusty cinders, which obscure the lineaments of ancient Rome). Sluttish therefore probably means ‘Of things: Unclean, dirty, grimy; untidy’ (OED 2). Compare Lucrece ll. 945 and 1381.

6 broils tumults; esp. in Shakespeare civil war or internal disturbance
work of masonry stone structures which are the products of a stonemason’s labour

7 Mars his sword the sword of Mars, god of war
quick rapid; also, perhaps with a deliberate paradox, ‘alive’

8 record (stressed on the first syllable) is usually a written report in the Sonnets, as at 59.5 and 123.11.

9 all oblivious enmity ‘all hostilities which destroy records of antiquity’. Wars cause the decay of monuments and therefore bring about oblivion of the past. For the usage of oblivious to mean ‘bringing about oblivion’ see Macbeth 5.3.43–7: ‘Raze out the written troubles of the brain, | And with some sweet oblivious antidote | Cleanse the fraught bosom of that perilous stuff | Which weighs upon the heart’. Ingram and Redpath’s conjecture ‘oblivion’s enmity’ misses this idiosyncratic usage. Many editors hyphenate all-oblivious-enmity, which hardens the sense unnecessarily towards ‘hostility which destroys everything’, and excludes ‘all forms of hostility which generate oblivion’.

10 pace forth stride out with the measured confidence of a warrior
find room gain admittance

11 eyes of opinion of
posterity See 6.12 n.

12 ending doom apocalypse; end of the world

13 the judgement . . . arise the Last Judgement, in which you will be resurrected in your own body

14 this this poem

That's why everyone, particularly at a time when things are going especially well for them, should think through how to bear trouble and adversity—danger, loss, or exile! A man returning from abroad should always expect his son to have behaved badly, or his wife to have died, or his daughter to have fallen ill, and should reflect that these things hit everyone, that they can happen; that way, nothing will catch him unprepared. If anything turns out better than he expected, he should reckon it all as profit.

quam ob rem omnis, quom secundae res sunt maxume, tum maxume
meditari secum oportet quo pacto advorsam aerumnam ferant,
pericla damna exsilia. peregre rediens semper cogitet
aut fili peccatum aut uxoris mortem aut morbum filiae
communia esse haec, fieri posse, ut ne quid animo sit novom;        245
quidquid praeter spem eveniat, omne id deputare esse in lucro.

The thought of these lines corresponds very closely to a passage from Euripides' Theseus (Nauck fr. 392), translated by Cic. Tusc. III.29 (Cicero goes on to quote Phormio 241-6—with some minor differences in the text).

I learned this from a wise man:
I kept my mind turned to anxieties and misfortunes,
presenting to myself exile from my fatherland,
and untimely death, and other paths of misery,
so that, should I suffer any of the things I imagined in my thoughts,
nothing might befall me unexpectedly and hurt me the more.

ἐγὼ δὲ <ταῦτα> παρὰ σοφοῦ τινος μαθὼν
εἰς φροντίδας νοῦν συμφοράς τ᾿ ἐβαλλόμην,
φυγάς τ᾿ ἐμαυτῷ προστιθεὶς πάτρας ἐμῆς
θανάτους τ᾿ ἀώρους καὶ κακῶν ἄλλας ὁδούς,
ἵν᾿ εἴ τι πάσχοιμ᾿ ὧν ἐδόξαζον φρενί,
μή μοι νεῶρες προσπεσὸν μᾶλλον δάκοι.

ταῦτα suppl. Nauck

I bore in mind the lessons of a sage,
And thought of ills the future had in store,
Of bitter death, or of an exile's doom,
Or some vast weight of evil hanging o'er me,
That so, if dire calamity should come,
It could not creep upon me unawares.

nam qui haec audita a docto meminissem viro,
futuras mecum commentabar miserias:
aut mortem acerbam aut exsili maestam fugam,
aut semper aliquam molem meditabar mali,
ut, si qua invecta diritas casu foret,
ne me imparatum cura laceraret repens.

History and literature cannot be fully comprehended, still less fully enjoyed, except in connection with one another. I confess I have little love either for "Histories of Literature," or for chapters on "the literature of the period," hanging at the end of history books like the tail from a cow. I mean, rather, that those who write or read the history of a period should be soaked in its literature, and that those who read or expound literature should be soaked in history.

O eternal Lord God, who alone spreadest out the heavens, and rulest the raging of the sea; who hast compassed the waters with bounds until day and night come to an end: for such as pass on the seas upon their unlawful occasions, rebuke not the raging winds, and the roaring sea, but rather suffer the billows to swallow up their bark and all therein to perish in the mighty deep, that the inhabitants of our Continent may in peace and quietness serve thee our God; and that we may enjoy the blessings of the land, with the fruits of our labours; and with a thankful remembrance of thy mercies to praise and glorify thy holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

And do not suppose that this is the end. This is only the beginning of the reckoning. This is only the first sip, the first foretaste of a bitter cup which will be proffered to us year by year unless by a supreme recovery of moral health and martial vigour, we arise again and take our stand for freedom as in the olden time.

Readers should certainly be warned that many of the details out of which this book's narrative has been constructed are ambiguous and ferociously disputed—and that the sudden appearance of a number in the text, hovering like a fly over a dunghill, generally indicates that qualification is being offered in an endnote.

The Senate, despairing of human aid, turned the people to their prayers, bidding them go with their wives and children and supplicate heaven for a remission of their sorrows. It was an official command, but no more than what each was impelled to do by his own distress: every shrine was packed; in every temple women lay prostrate, their hair sweeping the floor, praying the angry gods to grant them pardon and to put an end to the plague. It may be that the prayers were granted; in any case, the sickly season was now over, and from this time, little by little, those in whom the disease had run its course began to recover.

inopsque senatus auxilii humani ad deos populum ac vota vertit. iussi cum coniugibus ac liberis supplicatum ire pacemque exposcere deum, ad id quod sua quemque mala cogebant auctoritate publica evocati omnia delubra implent. stratae passim matres, crinibus templa verrentes, veniam irarum caelestium finemque pesti exposcunt. inde paulatim, seu pace deum impetrata seu graviore tempore anni iam circumacto, defuncta morbis corpora salubriora esse incipere.

7.7. inops ... auxilii humani: cf. Tacitus, Hist. 2.16.3 (Fletcher).

7.7-8. iussi: the two past participles in asyndeton (iussi ... evocati) are harsh and not, I think, exactly paralleled elsewhere in L. iussos (Ver.), on the other hand, with a plural understood from populum, is impossible with deos so near at hand. The reverse corruption is found at 4.7.3 (usos N, usi sunt Ver.). It is probably best to punctuate, with Madvig and Luterbacher, ...vertit: iussi ... deum. ad id ... .

supplicatum ire: a rhetorical elaboration of a bare fact. L. indulges his fancy, painting a graphic scene of public prayer. For stratae matres cf. Tacitus, Hist. 1.63; for crinibus verrere, a symbol of the meekest supplication, cf. especially Apuleius, Metam. 6.2. pacem or veniam exposcere belongs to religious phraseology (1.16.3, 3.5.14, 4.30.10, 7.2.2, 44.44.4; cf. Catullus 64.203; Virgil, Aeneid 3.261; Val. Max. 1.1.1; and a plant prayer in Prec. Herb. 6).

8.1. seu ... seu: so also D.H. 9.60.7.

The poor woman has learned at misfortune's hand
what a good thing it is not to be cut off from one's native land.

ἔγνωκε δ᾿ ἡ τάλαινα συμφορᾶς ὕπο
οἷον πατρῴας μὴ ἀπολείπεσθαι χθονός.

The immense literature about Roman law has been produced by excogitation from a relatively small amount of evidence, of which a substantial part is suspect because of interpolations. Ducane had often wondered whether his passion for the subject were not a kind of perversion. There are certain areas of scholarship, early Greek history is one and Roman law is another, where the scantiness of evidence sets a special challenge to the disciplined mind. It is a game with very few pieces where the skill of the player lies in complicating the rules. The isolated and uneloquent fact must be exhibited within a tissue of hypothesis subtle enough to make it speak, and it was the weaving of this tissue which fascinated Ducane. Whereas he would have found little interest in struggling with the vast mass of factual material available to a student of more recent times. There was in this preference a certain aestheticism, allied perhaps to his puritanical nature, a predilection for what was neat, enclosed, demonstrable and highly finished. What was too empirical seemed to Ducane messy. His only persistent source of dissatisfaction with his dry and finite subject matter was that the topics which interested him most frequently turned out to have been thoroughly investigated some years previously by a German.

We are confronted with the monstrosity of the Totalitarian State. All are to think alike. No one is to disagree. To point out an obvious mistake or miscalculation is to be convicted of heresy and treason. Every link with the past, even with the most glorious traditions, has been severed.

[....]

Venerable pastors, upright magistrates, world famous scientists and philosophers, capable statesmen, independent minded manly citizens, frail poor old women of unfashionable opinions, are invaded, bullied and brutalised by gangs of armed hooligans to resist whom is a capital offence.

[....]

Is there anything in all this which should lead us, the English-speaking world, to repudiate the famous chain of events which has made us what we are? — to cast away our Parliament, our habeas corpus, our rights and many freedoms, our tolerances, our decencies? On the contrary, ought we not betimes to buttress and fortify our ancient constitution, and to make sure that it is not ignorantly or lightly deranged? What a lamentable result it would be if the British and American democracies when enfranchised squandered in a few short years or even between some night and morning all the long-stored hard-won treasures of our island civilisation. It must not be.

One rule in reading is to condense the intention and main thoughts of the author into a few words and in this way to make them one's own. Whoever reads in this way is occupied and gains something. When one reads without comparison with one's own inventory of knowledge or without synthesizing it with one's own system of thought, the mind gains nothing and loses much.

Eine Regel beim Lesen ist die Absicht des Verfassers, und den Hauptgedanken sich auf wenig Worte zu bringen und sich unter dieser Gestalt eigen zu machen. Wer so liest ist beschäftigt, und gewinnt, es gibt eine Art von Lektüre wobei der Geist gar nichts gewinnt, und viel mehr verliert, es ist das Lesen ohne Vergleichung mit seinem eigenen Vorrat und ohne Vereinigung mit seinem Meinungs-System.

The interest of Grecian history is unexhausted and inexhaustible. As a mere story, hardly any other portion of authentic history can compete with it. Its characters, its situations, the very march of its incidents, are epic. It is a heroic poem, of which the personages are peoples. It is also, of all histories of which we know so much, the most abounding in consequences to us who now live. The true ancestors of the European nations (it has been well said) are not those from whose blood they are sprung, but those from whom they derive the richest portion of their inheritance. The battle of Marathon, even as an event in English history, is more important than the battle of Hastings. If the issue of that day had been different, the Britons and the Saxons might still have been wandering in the woods.

The Greeks are also the most remarkable people who have yet existed; not, indeed, if by this be meant those who have approached nearest (if such an expression may be used where all are at so immeasurable a distance) to the perfection of social arrangements or of human character. Their institutions, their way of life, even that which is their greatest distinction, the cast of their sentiments, and development of their faculties, were radically inferior to the best (we wish it could be said to the collective) products of modern civilization. It is not the results achieved, but the powers and efforts required to make the achievement, that measure their greatness as a people. They were the beginners of nearly every thing, Christianity excepted, of which the modern world makes its boast. If, in several things, they were but few removes from harbarism, they alone among nations, so far as is known to us, emerged from barbarism by their own efforts, not following in the track of any more advanced people. If with them, as in all antiquity, slavery existed as an institution, they were not the less the originators of political freedom, and the grand exemplars and sources of it to modern Europe. If their discords, jealousies, and wars between city and city, caused the ruin of their national independence, yet the arts of war and government evolved in those intestine contests made them the first who united great empires under civilized rule; the first who broke down those barriers of petty nationality, which had been so fatal to themselves; and, by making Greek ideas and language common to large regions of the earth, commenced that general fusion of races and nations, which, followed up by the Romans, prepared the way for the cosmopolitism of modern times.

They were the first people who had a historical literature; as perfect of its kind (though not the highest kind) as their oratory, their poetry, their sculpture, and their architecture. They were the founders of mathematics; of physics; of the inductive study of polities, so early exemplified in Aristotle; of the philosophy of human nature and life. In each they made the indispensable first steps, which are the foundation of all the rest,—steps such as could only have been made by minds intrinsically capable of every thing which has since been accomplished. With a religious creed eminently unfavorable to speculation, because affording a ready supernatural solution of all natural phenomena, they yet originated freedom of thought. They, the first, questioned nature and the universe by their rational faculties, and brought forth answers not suggested by any established system of priestcraft; and their free and bold spirit of speculation it was, which, surviving in its results, broke the yoke of another inthralling system of popular religion, sixteen hundred years after they had ceased to exist as a people. These things were effected in two centuries of national existence: twenty and upwards have since elapsed; and it is sad to think how little, comparatively, has been accomplished.

However, just behind the stable I saw a kitchen-garden, and this, as I was now perishing with hunger, I boldly invaded. Having stuffed myself with vegetables, raw as they were, I invoked the whole company of heaven and began to prospect the surrounding area to see if I could find roses in bloom anywhere in the neighbouring gardens.

sed plane pone stabulum prospectum hortulum iam fame perditus fidenter invado et quamvis crudis holeribus, affatim tamen ventrem sagino deosque comprecatus omnes cuncta prospectabam loca, sicubi forte conterminis in hortulis candens repperirem rosarium.

However, the villagers, having with some difficulty restrained their dogs, seized me and tied me to a ring with a stout rope; and would undoubtedly have finished me off with the beating which they proceeded to inflict, had not my belly, stuffed as it was with raw vegetables and so in a highly liquid state, contracted under the pain of the blows and shot out a jet of dung at them. Showered with this noisome fluid and repelled by the stench, my tormentors were driven off.

at illi canibus iam aegre cohibitis adreptum me loro quam valido ad ansulam quandam destinatum rursum caedendo confecissent profecto, nisi dolore plagarum alvus artata crudisque illis oleribus abundans et lubrico fluxu saucia, fimo fistulatim excusso quosdam extremi liquoris aspergine, alios putore nidoris faetidi a meis iam quassis scapulis abegisset.

When I worked at St. Johnsbury Trucking Co. there was a fellow employee, [name withheld]. He and his wife raised rabbits and that's about all they ate for protein. It was not uncommon for him to shit his pants before he could make it to the bathroom, which was a bit of a hike from our office. I believe he always kept a change of clothing in his vehicle.

There may also be a scatological parallel: the episode of the ass distracting his attackers by spattering them with noxious feces (Apuleius 4.3.10) shows linguistic similarities with Androtimos's complaint that he is overwhelmed by the smell of belching and flatulence (B.1 verso 10-11)...

After the sacrifice, there is a meal in which the bandits, at least, partake. At this point, Androtimos publicly complains about the belching and flatulence, and attributes it to a failure to cook the food properly.

Labels: noctes scatologicae

'What shall I do with all my books?' was the question; and the answer, 'Read them,' sobered the questioner. But if you cannot read them, at any rate handle them and, as it were, fondle them. Peer into them. Let them fall open where they will. Read on from the first sentence that arrests the eye. Then turn to another. Make a voyage of discovery, taking soundings of uncharted seas. Set them back on their shelves with your own hands. Arrange them on your own plan, so that if you do not know what is in them, you at least know where they are. If they cannot be your friends, let them at any rate be your acquaintances. If they cannot enter the circle of your life, do not deny them at least a nod of recognition.

It is a mistake to read too many good books when quite young. A man once told me that he had read all the books that mattered. Cross-questioned, he appeared to have read a great many, but they seemed to have made only a slight impression. How many had he understood? How many had entered into his mental composition? How many had been hammered on the anvils of his mind and afterwards ranged in an armoury of bright weapons ready to hand?

It is a great pity to read a book too soon in life. The first impression is the one that counts; and if it is a slight one, it may be all that can be hoped for. A later and second perusal may recoil from a surface already hardened by premature contact. Young people should be careful in their reading, as old people in eating their food. They should not eat too much. They should chew it well.

Since change is an essential element in diversion of all kinds, it is naturally more restful and refreshing to read in a different language from that in which one's ordinary daily work is done. To have a second language at your disposal, even if you only know it enough to read it with pleasure, is a sensible advantage. Our educationists are too often anxious to teach children so many different languages that they never get far enough in any one to derive any use or enjoyment from their study. The boy learns enough Latin to detest it; enough Greek to pass an examination; enough French to get from Calais to Paris; enough German to exhibit a diploma; enough Spanish or Italian to tell which is which; but not enough of any to secure the enormous boon of access to a second literature.

Choose well, choose wisely, and choose one. Concentrate upon that one. Do not be content until you find yourself reading in it with real enjoyment. The process of reading for pleasure in another language rests the mental muscles; it enlivens the mind by a different sequence and emphasis of ideas. The mere form of speech excites the activity of separate brain-cells, relieving in the most effective manner the fatigue of those in hackneyed use. One may imagine that a man who blew the trumpet for his living would be glad to play the violin for his amusement. So it is with reading in another language than your own.

The souls of royalty are vindictive; they do not easily forget their resentment, possibly because being used to command they are seldom checked. It is better to be used to living among equals. For myself, at any rate, I ask not greatness but a safe old age. Moderation! Firstly, the very name of it is excellent; to practise it is easily the best thing for mortals. Excess avails to no good purpose for men, and if the gods are provoked, brings greater ruin on a house.

δεινὰ τυράννων λήματα καί πως
ὀλίγ᾿ ἀρχόμενοι, πολλὰ κρατοῦντες        120
χαλεπῶς ὀργὰς μεταβάλλουσιν.
τὸ γὰρ εἰθίσθαι ζῆν ἐπ᾿ ἴσοισιν
κρεῖσσον· ἐμοὶ γοῦν ἐπὶ μὴ μεγάλοις
ὀχυρῶς τ᾿ εἴη καταγηράσκειν.
τῶν γὰρ μετρίων πρῶτα μὲν εἰπεῖν        125
τοὔνομα νικᾷ, χρῆσθαί τε μακρῷ
λῷστα βροτοῖσιν· τὰ δ᾿ ὑπερβάλλοντ᾿
οὐδένα καιρὸν δύναται θνητοῖς,
μείζους δ᾿ ἄτας, ὅταν ὀργισθῇ
δαίμων οἴκοις, ἀπέδωκεν.        130

123 ἐπὶ μὴ μεγάλοις Barthold: εἰ μὴ μεγάλως codd.
124 τ᾿ codd.: γ᾿ Reiske
130 οἴκοις codd.: ὄγκοις Jacobs

O for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Cool'd a long age in the deep-delvèd earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
        With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
            And purple-stainèd mouth;
    That I might drink and leave the world unseen,
        And with thee fade away into the forest dim.

But I cannot determine what I ought to transcribe, till I am satisfied how much I ought to believe. The gravest of the ecclesiastical historians, Eusebius himself, indirectly confesses that he has related whatever might redound to the glory, and that he has suppressed all that could tend to the disgrace, of religion.¹⁷⁹ Such an acknowledgment will naturally excite a suspicion that a writer who has so openly violated one of the fundamental laws of history has not paid a very strict regard to the observance of the other; and the suspicion will derive additional credit from the character of Eusebius, which was less tinctured with credulity, and more practised in the arts of courts, than that of almost any of his contemporaries.

¹⁷⁹ Such is the fair deduction from two remarkable passages in Eusebius, [H.E.] l. viii. c. 2, and de Martyr. Palestin. c. 12. The prudence of the historian has exposed his own character to censure and suspicion. It was well known that he himself had been thrown into prison; and it was suggested that he had purchased his deliverance by some dishonorable compliance. The reproach was urged in his lifetime, and even in his presence, at the council of Tyre. See Tillemont, Mémoires Ecclésiastiques, tom. viii. part i. p. 67.

After the church had triumphed over all her enemies, the interest as well as vanity of the captives prompted them to magnify the merit of their respective suffering. A convenient distance of time or place gave an ample scope to the progress of fiction; and the frequent instances which might be alleged of holy martyrs, whose wounds had been instantly healed, whose strength had been renewed, and whose lost members had miraculously been restored, were extremely convenient for the purpose of removing every difficulty and of silencing every objection. The most extravagant legends, as they conduced to the honour of the church, were applauded by the credulous multitude, countenanced by the power of the clergy, and attested by the suspicious evidence of ecclesiastical history.

We shall conclude this chapter by a melancholy truth which obtrudes itself on the reluctant mind; that even admitting, without hesitation or inquiry, all that history has recorded, or devotion has feigned, on the subject of martyrdoms, it must still be acknowledged that the Christians, in the course of their intestine dissensions, have inflicted far greater severities on each other than they had experienced from the zeal of infidels.

PENTHEUS
Why, where is he? To my eyes he is invisible.
DIONYSUS
He is by my side; thou art a godless man and therefore dost not see him.

ΠΕΝΘΕΥΣ
καὶ ποῦ ᾽στιν; οὐ γὰρ φανερὸς ὄμμασίν γ᾽ ἐμοῖς.
ΔΙΟΝΥΣΟΣ
παρ᾽ ἐμοί· σὺ δ᾽ ἀσεβὴς αὐτὸς ὢν οὐκ εἰσορᾷς.

Vision demands not only an objective condition—the god's presence—but a subjective one—the percipient must himself be in a state of grace.

Although Dionysos is standing in front of him, Pentheus is not able to observe him. Ability to observe requires respect for that which is observed. Pentheus, however, has no respect for anyone or anything. He respects only himself. Hence he is able to observe only what corresponds to his already established perceptions and perceive only what corresponds to his expectations. His expectations, in turn, are based on already established perceptions. Since according to Pentheus' established perception Dionysos does not exist, he is not able to observe him.

I believe Labor has been crucified between a thousand grafters ever since Labor begun, but I could not put them all up, so I have put up the leaders—Lawyer, Doctor, Preacher and Banker. I do not say they are all grafters, but I do say they are the leaders of all who eat cake by the sweat of the other fellow's face.<sup>27

27</sup> Dinsmoor, Pictorial History [of the Cabin Home in the Garden of Eden (Lucas: By the Author, 1927)], p. 47.

Mrs. MacStinger resorted to a great distance every Sunday morning, to attend the ministry of the Reverend Melchisedech Howler, who, having been one day discharged from the West India Docks on a false suspicion (got up expressly against him by the general enemy) of screwing gimlets into puncheons, and applying his lips to the orifice, had announced the destruction of the world for that day two years, at ten in the morning, and opened a front parlour for the reception of ladies and gentlemen of the Ranting persuasion, upon whom, on the first occasion of their assemblage, the admonitions of the Reverend Melchisedech had produced so powerful an effect, that, in their rapturous performance of a sacred jig, which closed the service, the whole flock broke through into a kitchen below, and disabled a mangle belonging to one of the fold.