Laudator Temporis Acti

Essays by the Late Mark Pattison, Vol. I (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1889), pp. 137-139 (on Joseph Scaliger):

It does not appear that Joseph had learned the rudiments of Greek at the time of his father's death, 21st October, 1558. He certainly had not learned more than the rudiments. He had seen enough, however, to understand that 'not to know Greek was to know nothing.' The death of his father affected him so deeply as for some time to disorder his health. As soon as he had recovered from the blow, he determined to make good this deficiency.

Adrian Turnebus was at that time the most renowned Greek scholar in France and in Europe. For a youth of eighteen, who had yet to begin his grammar, less than the first Grecian of the day might have served. But this is a truth which only experiment can teach us. Joseph made his way to Paris, and enrolled himself in Turnebus's class, that he might imbibe Greek at the fountain-head. A trial of two months opened his eyes, and he understood that to begin one must begin at the beginning; a lesson, in learning which two months were well spent. He adopted the resolution—be it remembered he is nineteen—to shut himself up in his chamber, and become his own teacher. It is not said, but we may be certain that it was instinct, not accident, which guided him to Homer. With the aid of a Latin translation he went through it in one-and-twenty days. From Homer he passed in order down the series of the Greek poets; and four months sufficed to devour the whole. The same instinct, and the same spirit of determination, guided him here in not interrupting his poetic reading by any deviation into prose; the differences of idiom being, he may have felt, distinct dialects, incapable of being mastered at one effort. As he went along, he formed a grammar for himself by his own observation of the analogies, the only grammar he ever learnt. Huet, alluding to the Scaliger feat, thinks it incredible, but on no better ground than that he himself had made an unsuccessful attempt to repeat the experiment. Gibbon, more modestly, declares that he was well satisfied with himself when he got through the same task in as many weeks as Scaliger took days. We might quote against these authorities Wyttenbach despatching Athenaeus in fourteen days; or Milton's assertion that he had read 'all the Greek and Latin classics' in five years, if it were not that parallel is misplaced in speaking of Scaliger and Greek. There are things which a man cannot teach himself. And this he had now to experience, when, elated by his victory over Greek, he attempted to carry Hebrew by storm in the same manner. He did ultimately acquire both Hebrew and Arabic. But Dr. Bernays, who has the best title to judge in the case of the first-named tongue, pronounces that he never reached, in Hebrew, that practical hold upon the idiom—the usus linguae which was the foundation of his critical skill in Latin and Greek. This is sufficient to correct the idle romance of those biographers who, in their ignorance, make Scaliger's mythical eminence to consist in his knowing many languages. He spoke thirteen languages, says one of the most recent of these open-mouthed wonderers,¹ as if Scaliger was a Wotton or a Mezzofanti.

¹ Poirson, Histoire du Règne de Henri IV, vol. IV, p. 230.

Hartmut Erbse, ed., Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem, vol. V: Scholia ad Libros Υ-Ω Continens (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1977), pp. 551-552 (on 24.182, my translation):

[There is] also a proverb: "In a city of blind men, a blear-eyed man rules as a king."

καὶ παροιμία "ἐν τυφλῶν πόλει γλαμυρὸς βασιλεύει".

Hans Walther, Proverbia Sententiaeque Latinitatis Medii Aevi, Vol. II (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1964), p. 915 (# 15030b, my translation):

Among blind men, the one-eyed man [is] king.

Monoculus inter cecos rex.

Similar examples in Walther:

Vol. I (1963), p. 253 (# 2213):

Cecorum in patria luscus rex imperat omnis.

Vol. II (1964), p. 491 (# 12101a):

In terra ceci regnat vir luscus egeni.

Vol. II (1964), p. 565 (# 12619):

Inter pigmeos regnat nanus, strabo luscos,
Loripes extalos, monotalmus rex quoque cecos.

Augustine, Expositions of the Psalms 102.17 (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, vol. 95/1, pp. 98-99; tr. Maria Boulding):

If you think this is not a fair picture of our life, see if you can find any pleasure in which there are no thorns. Choose what you want to be—a miser, a libertine, to mention only two. Or add a third possibility—an ambitious place-seeker. What a crop of thorns springs up in the quest for honors! How many thorns there are in the indulgence of lust, how many thorns in burning avarice! How much harassment do base loves bring with them? How much vexation do they create in this life? I am not even speaking of hell. Be careful not to become a hell for yourself.

Aut si est aliud vita nostra, si potes, convertere ad aliquam voluptatem, ubi spinas non sentias. Elige quod volueris, avarus, luxuriosus, ut duo ista sola dicamus; adde et tertium, ambitiosus. In honorum cupiditate quantae spinae! In ardore avaritiae quantae spinae! In luxuria libidinum quantae spinae! Amores turpes quantas molestias habent! Quantas sollicitudines hic in ista vita! Omitto gehennas. Vide ne iam ipse tibi gehenna sis!

Euripides, Suppliant Women 486-493 (tr. Edward P. Coleridge):

And yet each man among us knows which of the two to prefer, the good or ill, and how much better peace is for mankind than war, peace, the Muses' dearest friend, the foe of Sorrow, whose joy is in glad throngs of children, and its delight in prosperity. These are the blessings we cast away and wickedly embark on war, man enslaving his weaker brother, and cities following suit.

καίτοι δυοῖν γε πάντες ἄνθρωποι λόγοιν
τὸν κρείσσον᾽ ἴσμεν, καὶ τὰ χρηστὰ καὶ κακά,
ὅσῳ τε πολέμου κρεῖσσον εἰρήνη βροτοῖς·
ἣ πρῶτα μὲν Μούσαισι προσφιλεστάτη,
Ποιναῖσι δ᾽ ἐχθρά, τέρπεται δ᾽ εὐπαιδίᾳ,        490
χαίρει δὲ πλούτῳ. ταῦτ᾽ ἀφέντες οἱ κακοὶ
πολέμους ἀναιρούμεσθα καὶ τὸν ἥσσονα
δουλούμεθ᾽, ἄνδρες ἄνδρα καὶ πόλις πόλιν.

Peace Holding Wealth, by Cephisodorus (Roman copy, in Munich, Staatliche Antikensammlungen und Glyptothek, inv. 219):

Augustine, Expositions of the Psalms 102.6 (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum, vol. 95/1, p. 77; tr. Maria Boulding):

And who in this life is not sick? Is there anyone who does not have to drag his way through a long illness? Even to be born here, in a mortal body, is the onset of our maladies. Our needy condition is supported by daily doses of medicine, for the means we use to relieve our wants are like remedies applied every day. Would hunger not kill you if you did not treat it with the appropriate medicine? Would thirst not destroy you if you neglected to drink? Yet your drinking only keeps thirst at bay; it does not quench it entirely, for after that temporary relief thirst will return. With remedies like these we alleviate the distress of our sickness. You were wearied with standing; you are rested by sitting down. Sitting is a remedy for your fatigue, but the remedy itself tires you, for you cannot continue to sit for very long. Wherever our fatigue is relieved, another form of fatigue makes its entrance.

Quis enim non aegrotat in hac vita? Quis non languorem longum trahit? Nasci hic in corpore mortali incipere aegrotare est. Quotidianis medicamentis fulciuntur indigentiae nostrae, quotidiana medicamenta sunt refectiones omnium indigentiarum. Fames nonne te occideret, nisi medicamentum eius apponeres? Sitis non te perimeret, nisi eam tu bibendo, non penitus exstingueres, sed differres? Reditura est enim sitis paululum temperata. Temperamus ergo istis fomentis aerumnam aegritudinis nostrae. Stando lassatus eras, sedendo reficeris; ipsum sedere medicina est lassitudinis; in ipsa medicina rursus lassaris: diu sedere non poteris. Quidquid est, ubi fatigato succurritur, alia fatigatio inchoatur.

Essays by the Late Mark Pattison, Vol. I (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1889), p. 111 (on Henri Estienne):

He was interred in the common cemetery near the Hôtel Dieu. A detachment of the burgher guard was obliged to turn out to protect the interment from the violence of the Catholic mob of Lyons, barbarized by the efforts of the religious confraternities. He was pursued beyond the grave by the especial hatred of the Catholic world. Of this a remarkable example has been perpetuated. It is not uncommon to find copies of the Thesaurus in our libraries, in which the name 'Henricus Stephanus' has been carefully obliterated from the title-page and preface. A copy of the Pindar has been found in Spain, in the cover of which are written these words: 'H. Stephanus, autor damnatus, opus tamen hoc permissum.' And M. Renouard had a copy of the De Latinitate, etc., in which the author's name was erased wherever it occurred. In a copy of the Thesaurus in our possession, not only is the author's name pasted over, but where the name of Queen Elizabeth occurs in the dedication, it has been altered with a pen into 'Belsabeth.'

Lesley Chamberlain, Nietzsche in Turin (London: Quartet Books, 1996), p. 5:

The number of new books devoted to Nietzsche is dizzying. What to do about it? Keep reading Nietzsche himself, I suspect.

Essays by the Late Mark Pattison, Vol. I (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1889), p. 85 (on Robert Estienne):

The life of the printer, a life practical, industrious, real, if ever life was, has however collected its legend in passing down the current of biography. Nay, as in the case of other saints, the legend is more widely known than the facts. Such is the fiction, that he hung out his proofs at his street-door, offering a reward to any passer-by who could detect an error of the press. This apocryphal anecdote has even found its way into history. It may be found in other Histories of France besides that of Michelet¹, who is but too careless as to his authorities.

¹ VII.208.

Donald E. Knuth, The Art of Computer Programming, Vol. 2: Seminumerical Algorithms, 3rd ed. (Reading: Addison-Wesley, 1998), p. vii:

I have corrected every error that alert readers detected in the second edition (as well as some mistakes that, alas, nobody noticed); and I have tried to avoid introducing new errors in the new material. However, I suppose some defects still remain, and I want to fix them as soon as possible. Therefore I will cheerfully pay $2.56 to the first finder of each technical, typographical, or historical error.

Knuth makes the same offer in other books, e.g. in Ronald L. Graham, Donald E. Knuth, and Oren Patashnik, Concrete Mathematics, 2nd ed. (Boston: Addison-Wesley, 1994), p. ix:

We have tried to produce a perfect book, but we are imperfect authors. Therefore we solicit help in correcting any mistakes that we've made. A reward of $2.56 will gratefully be paid to the first finder of any error, whether it is mathematical, historical, or typographical.

In the event that there aren't new editions, Knuth posts corrections on his web site. I doubt that Knuth's bank account suffers much by payment of these rewards. First, he is so careful and painstaking that he makes few mistakes. Second, I suspect that most of those lucky enough to receive a $2.56 check from Knuth don't cash it, but rather save it as a prized possession.

Augustine, Expositions of the Psalms 99.4 (Corpus Christianorum Series Latina, vol. 39, p. 1394; tr. Maria Boulding):

People who work in the fields are especially given to joyful shouting. Harvesters and grape-gatherers and other fruit-pickers are greatly cheered by a plentiful crop and rejoice over the fecundity and bounty of the earth. In their exultation they sing, and between the words of their songs they interject happy, wordless sounds that express the elation they feel. This is called jubilation, shouting for joy.

maxime iubilant qui aliquid in agris operantur; copia fructuum iucundati uel messores, uel uindemiatores, uel aliquos fructus metentes, et in ipsa fecunditate terrae et feracitate gaudentes, exsultando cantant et inter cantica quae uerbis enuntiant, inserunt uoces quasdam sine uerbis in elatione exsultantis animi, et haec uocatur iubilatio.

Related post: I Hear America Singing.