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Classical Philology 

Votume VIII April, IQI3 NuMBER 2 

By Cart Darina Buck 

Not only in earlier times, but also, in most parts of Greece, 
long after Attic had become the norm of literary prose, each state 
employed its own dialect, both in private and public monuments of 
internal concern, and in those of a more external or interstate char- 
acter, such as decrees in honor of foreigners, decisions of interstate 
arbitration, and, in general, communications between different 

This’ brief statement of the general situation, which I have 
given elsewhere and illustrated with some examples,! I repeat here 
by way of introduction to a more detailed consideration, with 
special reference to peculiar and exceptional cases, of the question 
of dialect in “interstate’’ inscriptions. This term is retained, in 
default of a better, but is to be understood here in the broadest 
sense, to include, for example, dedications set up away from the 
home of the dedicator. 

There is no doubt as to what is the general practice, namely the 
use of the native dialect? of the authors of inscriptions, regardless of 
the parties to whom they are addressed, the subject-matter, or the 
place of publication. But there are some real or apparent excep- 
tions, and such have now and then misled competent epigraphists 

1 Introduction to the Study of the Greek Dialects, pp. 154 ff. 

2 Likewise the native type of alphabet. But it is to be remembered that the 
native alphabets were given up in favor of the Ionic long before most of the dialects 
were given up in favor of the Attic xoww?, 

[CuAssicaL PatLoLoey VIII, April, 1913) 133 

134 Cart Daruine Buck 

into unnecessarily vague statements or even directly false assertions 
as to what is usual.! 

It is obvious that certain forms of dialect mixture which occur 
have no bearing on the question before us. The influence of the 
literary epic, which shows itself in varying degrees in the metrical 
dedications and epitaphs, is no more common in the inscriptions set 
up abroad than in those set up at home. Nor is the admixture of 
Attic forms in the later Doric or other dialects generally any different 
in the interstate inscriptions from that which the same dialect shows 
in the inscriptions found within its own territory. It is only the 
substitution of the Attic «o.vy for the local dialect with Attic color- 
ing that would concern us. In the period of fluctuation between 
Attic and the local dialect the choice of the former may in some 
given instances be due to the interstate character of a document. 
But this should not be assumed without weighing the question in 
each case whether the difference is really between interstate and 
other documents, or between those of a formal public character, 
whether interstate or local, and others, as for example in the Nicareta 
inscription (IG VII, 3172), where the formally drawn financial con- 
trast is in Attic, the other portions in Boeotian. 

Certain aberrations from the native dialect, in the nature of 
elimination of some specific local peculiarity, have often been pointed 
out as due to the interstate character of the inscriptions in which they 
occur, and no doubt correctly in some instances. Thus Solmsen 
KZ XXXII, 539, speaking of the inscription on the serpent column _ 
from Delphi, which is in the Laconian alphabet, but nevertheless has 
érroX€ueov without the regular Laconian change of antevocalic € to z, 

Es sollte das nationale geschenk aller Hellenen darstellen, soweit sie sich an 
den freiheitskimpfen beteiligt hatten, und so ist es nur natiirlich, dass die 
Lakedaemonier, wenn sie die weihinschrift auch in ihrem alphabet eingraben 
liessen, doch in der sprache die speciellen eigenheiten ihrer mundart ver- 

1 Thus Hoffmann Griech. Dial. I, p. 17, regards the use of Attic in an Arcadian 
decree in honor of an Athenian as natural, ‘‘ weil Ehrendekrete fiir Angehérige eines 
fremden Staates schon seit Altester Zeit nicht im einheimischen Dialekte, sondern 
im Dialekte des Geehrten gehalten zu werden pflegten.”” This statement can only be 
understood as a momentary lapse on the part of a scholar who must on reflection be 
well aware that, whatever the explanation of this particular case, the general practice 
is precisely the opposite. See below, pp. 145 ff. 


mieden und das den meisten dorischen stiimmen gemeinsame zu grunde legten; 
man kann darin einen ansatz zu einer dor. gemeinsprache sehen. Auch 
Pindar, der fiir den ganzen hellenischen adel dorischen stimmes dichtete, 
hat die in rede stehenden besonderheiten des lakonischen und seinen 
heimatlichen dialekts durchaus vermieden. 

Similarly Meister Dorer und Achdéer I, 9 ff.: 

Bei Verwendung dieser von Spartanen verfassten Inschriften fiir die 
Erkenntniss des spartanischen Dialekts sind die bekannten Tatsachen in 
Rechnung zu ziehen, dass in den Texten, die ausserhalb der heimischen Land- 
schaften aufgestellt fiir andere Greichen und fiir den internationalen Verkehr 
bestimmt waren, besonders exzentrische Eigentiimlichkeiten des Dialekts 
wie des Alphabets gewéhnlich unterdriickt zu werden pflegten. 

The ‘“‘gewéhnlich” he qualifies in a footnote by “nicht immer.” 
I have no doubt that such elimination of certain specific peculiarities 
is to be recognized, but I believe that “occasionally, but not usually,” 
instead of “usually, but not always,’ would be nearer the mark, 
and further that this is not entirely confined to interstate inscriptions.! 


The matter of the dialect employed in dedications has recently 
been recalled to notice by the Cleobis and Biton dedication at 
Delphi, apropos of which Premerstein Oest. Jhrh. XIII, 48 remarks: 
“In aller Regel sind die Inschriften archiischer Weihungen im 
Alphabet und Dialekt der Dedikanten gehalten; doch gibt es 
Ausnahmen, indem auswirtige Stifter mitunter der ortsiiblichen 
Schrift und Sprache sich bedienen, so z. B. die Séhne des Pariers 
Charopinos auf ihren delphischen Anathemen.” 

Examples in plenty of the normal practice, the use of the alpha- 
bet and dialect of the dedicators, regardless of where the objects are 
set up, are furnished by the dedications from all parts of the Greek 
world found at the Panhellenic sanctuaries of Olympia, Delos, ° 
Delphi, and Dodona, as well as at other sites, e.g., a Naxian dedica- 
tion at Boeotian Orchomenus (SGDI 5422; Roberts I, No. 28). 

The artist’s signatures are likewise normally in the dialect and 
alphabet of the artist. Yet now and then the artist working abroad 
may adapt himself to the local practice. 

1See Introduction to the Study of the Greek Dialects, § 275, and the remarks on 
vats, below, p. 137, and on Ilv@ayépas, below, p. 138. 

136 Cart Daruinc Buck 

In those cases where both dedication and artist’s signature 
belonging to the same work are preserved, and dedicator and artist are 
not compatriots, we expect and find, as a general rule, the appropriate 
differentiation. But there are also some instances in which the 
dedication shows the form appropriate to the artist, indicating that 
the matter was intrusted to his hands; and others in which, con- 
versely, the artist’s signature is adapted to the dedication; and 
still others in which the local influence of the place of dedication is a 
third element. Some illustrations of the normal differentiation are 
given first, followed by examples of adaptation or local influence. 

Inschriften von Olympia 271; Loewy Inschriften griechischer Bild- 
hauer 33: 

a) [TAavxi]ar pe Kadov yeve[ ai F]aXciop ézoi€. 
b) [TA]avxins 6 Avxxideo [70] “Eppie ‘P[y]yivos. 
The signature of the Elean artist is in the Elean dialect and alphabet; 

the dedication in the Ionic dialect and in the alphabet then current 
at Rhegium. 

Inschriften von Olympia 143; Loewy 28: 

a) Tédov Acwwopéveos Teddr Jos dveGE ke. 

b) TAaveias Aiywaras é[ 2 Joiéce. 
There is nothing here significant for the dialect. But the contrast 
between = in the dedication and ¢ in the artist’s signature is not 
accidental. For that the use of = was established at both Gela and 
Syracuse considerably earlier than in many parts of Greece, for 
example at Athens where it is rare before the middle of the fifth 
century, we know from other sources, e.g., the coin legends of Gela 
and Syracuse, the Delphian dedication of Gelon, quoted below, the 
Olympian dedication of Hieron (Inschr. von Olympia 249), and the 
early inscriptions on the steps of the temple of Apollo at Syracuse 
(Roberts I, No. 110). 

Inschriften von Olympia 162: Loewy 91: 

Of the original inscription, the later restoration of which reads 
TIu@oxArjs *Aretos. [[loAv]erertos érrolee "Apyetos, enough is pre- 
served to show clearly the difference in alphabet, the signature of 


the artist showing the characteristic Argive form of lambda, while 
the dedication shows the usual form current in Elis. 

Dedication of Gelon of Syracuse at Delphi: Homolle BCH XXI, 
589; Mélanges Weil 212 ff.; Hicks? 16; Ditt. Syll.2 910: 
a) Tédov 6 Aavoper[eos] | avebexe romdAAave | Svpagdaros. 
b) Tov tpiwoda Kai rév vixévy épydoaro | Biov Avodépo vids MiAéctos. 

The dedication is Syracusan in alphabet and dialect. The article 
without spiritus asper has already been attested for Syracuse, 
among other places (cf. my Greek Dialects, p. 50), by the Olympian 
dedication of Hieron, beginning Hidpov 6. The artist’s signature is 
in the Ionic dialect (rév viéxév) as is natural, but the alphabet is 
not the Milesian Ionic (note E=7, O=@). It cannot be a case of 
continuation of the alphabet used in the dedication, for it has }, $ in 
contrast to C, = =, o. There seems to be left only one possibility, 
namely, that the alphabet is Delphian. Yet Delphian inscriptions 
of about the same date show [ =y and ==c. 

Inschriften von Olympia 259; Loewy 49: 

a) Meoodvioe cat Navraxrior dvéBev Aut | "Odvumias Sexdrav dd tov 

b) Tatdyos éroinoe Meviaios | cai tdxpwrypia rowdy én tov vadv évixa. 

The alphabet of both a and 6 is Ionic. This may be thought 
of as the use of the artist’s alphabet in the dedication as well. But 
the date of the monument is not long before the Ionic alphabet 
came into general use. In dialect the dedication and artist’s 
inscription are still distinct, the former in Doric, the latter in Ionic, 
except for vadv. This use of vads is not due merely to the fact 
that the particular temple referred to was so called (Dittenberger- 
Purgold, loc. cit.), but is an early example of the tendency to replace 
the Attic-Ionic veos by the more cosmopolitan form, which is also 
observed in dedications from Ionic soil and which results in the 
establishment of vads in the xoww7.! 

1 Cf. Michel 1209: Bactdeds ’AXéEavdpos dvéOnxe Tdv vadyAPnvaly Todudd: (Priene, 
334 B.c.); and Michel 1134: evoxdeldns Tdovos dvéOnxe Tov vady "Apréude ’ Aypo- 
tépac krd. (Panagoria, second half of the fourth century.) vadés prevails in Attic 

inscriptions after about 250 s.c. (Meisterhans-Schwyzer 128), and is the Modern 
Greek form (similarly always \aés). 

138 Cart Daruine Buck 

Inschriften von Olympia 144; Loewy 22: 
EvOvpos Aoxpds "Aoruxdéos tpis OdAdpm’ évixwv 
cixdva 8 xrnoev tHvde Bpotois évopav. 
EtOvpos Aoxpos ard Zepvpiov dveOnxe. 
TIvOayépas Sdyuos éroinoev. 
Alphabet and dialect are uniform, the Ionic of the artist, who, how- 
ever, in his own name prefers the form common to all dialects except 
his own to the strictly Ionic [lv@aydpns. 

Works of the Parian Artist Euphron 

Loewy 48; Roberts I, 143; from near the Peiraeus: 

TWwv "Epp. dyadpa “Eppoorpa|ro *AB8Sypirys 

eornoen modrads | Onoduevos méAnas 
Eidpwv élgeroino’ otk ddays Tdpios. 
The dedication and artist’s signature are uniform in dialect (Ionic, 
appropriate to both parties, with epic influence), and also in alpha- 
bet. Kirchhoff Studien‘, p. 17, argued that, since the alphabet does 
not show the characteristic Parian type, it must be that of Abdera, the 
home of the dedicator. Similarly Roberts, p. 171: “The sculptor 
then, the Parian Euphron, possibly adapted himself to the local 
alphabet of the dedicator, Python of Abdera.” But this view is to 
be given up, in view of the fact that the same alphabet is employed 
in the case of another work by the same artist (cf. the following). 
It is evident that Euphron was accustomed to use the ordinary Ionic 
alphabet, and we now know also that in Paros itself this displaced 
the distinctive Parian type during the fifth century. Cf. JG XII, 
v, 108; Ditt. Syll.? 569. 
IG I, Suppl. 373° (p. 205); E. Hoffmann Syll. Epigr. Graec. 258; 
from Athens: 
[Sp jexvOn pw’ dve[Onxlev “AO]nvaim ro[8? dyaA|ya 
edéapé|vn [8 ~ - ~] trép wa[idwv «Jat éavr[qs]. 
Evdpo[v Idpios ézo|é |noev. 

The dedicator was in all probability an Athenian woman. The use 
of the Ionic alphabet and the Ionic form ’A@nvain is to be laid to 
the account of the artist.) 

1 Othefwise Mess Quaestiones de epigrammate Alttico et tragoedia antiquiore dialec- 
ticae 7 ff., who discusses this inscription at length. He makes no account of the fact 


1G I, Suppl. 373?” (p. 205); from Athens: 
PaiSpo[s I ]pobv - - - | Kepadebev 
dveO[Ex]ev. Evdpov éroie[o lev. 
This time the alphabet is Attic throughout, and no doubt the dialect, 
too, would show itself Attic, not Ionic, if anything distinctive occurred. 
The three following signatures of the Cretan artist Cresilas of 
Cydonia are adapted, in alphabet and dialect, to the dedications. 
IG IV, 683; Loewy 46; Michel 1066; Roberts I, 287; from Her- 
"Arekias Avovos dvebe[xe] | raz Aduarps rae xOoviale] | Heppuovers. | 
Kpéciras éroiéoe Kvdondr[as]. 
Alphabet and dialect of Hermione. 
IG I, 402; Loewy 45; Michel 1055; from Athens: 
Hepporvxos | Acecrpépos | drapyxev. | 
Kpéciras | érdecev. 

Attic alphabet and dialect. 

IG I, 403; Loewy 46; Hoffmann Syll. Epigr. Graec. 269; 

Tovde Ivpns] dvebexe ToAvpvéors dirols vids 
evédpevos Sexarév Tladddde Tprroyevel. 
Kvdonéras Kpécitas Epydocaro. 
Attic alphabet (except &) and Ionic epic dialect throughout. Here 
we must agree with Mess, in the dissertation cited above (p. 138), 
that this is one of the clear cases of the use of the epic dialect in 

that the artist was an Ionian, pointing out that the Ionic alphabet was sometimes used 
by Attic writers in the fifth century, and arguing that "A@nvalm is due merely to 
epic influence. The author of this important dissertation has shown successfully 
that Kirchhoff’s tenet (Hermes V, 56), according to which inscriptional epigrams of 
Attic authorship show the Attic forms without the slightest admixture of any other 
dialect, cannot be maintained in all its rigor. There are some instances of Ionic 
forms due to epic influence or even of Doric forms due to lyric influence, where there 
is no reason to question the Attic authorship. But it remains true that such cases 
are exceptional, and that, particularly in the matter of 4, 7, Attic metrical inscriptions, 
until the Alexandrian period, maintain the Attic forms with a high degree of con- 
sistency (for examples, cf. Meisterhans-Schwyzer, p. 17). Specifically, "A@nvaln occurs 
only here and in the dedication of Hegelochus, who was clearly an Ionian resident 
of Athens (see below, p. 143), as against nearly a dozen examples of ’A@nvala in early 
Attic metrical inscriptions; and where a special explanation of this, and also of the use 
of the Ionic alphabet throughout, is available, it is not proper to ignore it. 

140 Cart Darina Buck 

an Attic metrical inscription, and that there is no occasion to assume 
with Kirchhoff and others, that Kudovéras is an error. For the 
alternation of Ion. 7 with Dor. @ retained in the final syllable, Mess 
compares ’Adpunvds in Eur. Hipp. 736. One may also recall the 
similar alternation of Att.-Ion. 7 and Dor. a@ in «uBepynras Bacchy- 
lides 5. 47 and other like cases. 

Roberts II, 197; from Athens: 

“Apxeppos éroiécev 6 Xios. 

"Tpidixé p? aveBexev “APEvaias modoxou. 
The dedication, as well as the signature, is from the hand of the Chian 
artist. He intended to follow the Attic style of writing, and, after 
correcting éro{Hoev to éroiEcev, avoids the use of 7 or w. But 
his native habit shows through in the omission of the spiritus asper 
(6 not ho), and in the forms of certain letters which are at variance 
with the Attic usage. 

Passing now from such special cases, where dedication and 
artist’s signature by citizens of different states are juxtaposed or 
combined, we may consider other dedications or artists’ signatures 
with reference to the question of local influence. 

A stock example for the substitution of the local alphabet is the 
one cited by Premerstein, the Delphian dedication, or as we now know 
two identical dedications, by the sons of the Parian Charopinus: 

rot Xapomiva maides dvecav 75 Mapio. 

Cf. Kirchhoff Studien 144; Roberts I, 230 bis, and for the second 
copy, Homolle BCH XX, 582. Kirchhoff pointed out that neither 
dialect nor alphabet could be Parian, and must therefore be the 
epichoric. The dialect, however, is mixed; ro/ is Delphian, but 
avéBecav Ionic. Homolle Fouilles de Delphes IV, 56, makes the 
plausible suggestion that Charopinus was a Parian sculptor who had 
taken up his residence at Delphi. This would explain at once the 
Delphian character of the dedication by his sons. 

The fragmentary dedication of Micciades and Archermus of 
Chios, found at Delos, is generally believed to be in the alphabet of 
Delos, not that of Chios. Cf. Kirchhoff Studien 83 ff.; Roberts I, 
24a; Loewy 1; SGDI 5387. Otherwise Hoffmann Gr. Dial. ITI, 59. 


The Cleobis and Biton dedication reads as follows, according to 
Premerstein Oest. Jhrh. XIII, 44. Cf. also Homolle BCH XXIV, 
447 ff., Fouilles de Delphes 7 ff.; Pomtow Woch. f. klass. Phil. 1911, 
526; Baunack Philologus LXX, 312. 

a) [KAéoBis xai Bijrov rav pardpa 
b) édyayov roe Suya| . . . pédes ewoiee hapyeios. 
The alphabet had been called Argive by Homolle, but Premerstein 
points out that the characters which occur here are such as have 
substantially the same form in both the Argive and the Phocian 
alphabets. The dialect, he thinks, can only be Phocian (Delphian). 
But this question of dialect is more complicated. The form patdpa, 
the reading of which is declared certain, is without doubt Delphian, 
ranging itself beside Delph. ¢apev, Sapyara, and mevtayapitevor, 
with ap from ep, as regularly in Locrian and Elean. This is enough 
to show that the dedication was not inscribed at Argos, but at 
Delphi. But did the Delphian stonecutter use his own dialect 
throughout, or did just this one form of his native dialect slip in, 
while he otherwise followed correctly an Argive copy? This latter, 
I believe, is correct. The form of crasis' seen in hapyeios (6 ’Apyeios) 
is so well attested in early Argolic inscriptions as to demand recogni- 
tion as one of the characteristics of the dialect. So Arg. rapryeioz (rol 
"Apyeior), Inschr. von Olympia 250, 251; Arg. Hayeraida rapyeto 
(6 ’Ayeraida tod ’Apyetiov), ibid. 631; Epid. taicxXamie (tp A-), 
IG IV, 1203 (the editor reads haroxXamie?, but Kabbadias’ reading 
is probably correct; cf. Solmsen Inscr. select., p. 45, footnote). From 
other dialects, leaving Attic out of account, there are a few scatter- 
ing examples, namely, so as far I know, one each in Corinthian, 
Arcadian, Rhodian, and several in Cyprian. But none such occurs 
in Delphian, which has only tordAXA@u etc., like most of the other 
dialects. Where, as in this dedication, it is a question of Delphian 
or Argive dialect, hapyevos is as distinctive of the latter as is watapa 
of the former. 

The verb form ézrofee Premerstein says cannot stand for the 
Argive aorist évroi/céhe, and must therefore be regarded as Phocian 
and an imperfect. But there is no ground for the inference that, 

1In reality, I believe, elision instead of true crasis; cf. my Greek Dialects, p. 73 
with footnote. But this does not affect the present argument. 

142 CarRL DarRuine Buck 

taken as an imperfect, it must be Phocian. The form is equally 
strange in either dialect. Although intervocalic ¢ lasted longer 
in Argolic than in Phocian, in a sixth-century inscription it is to be 
expected in Phocian also (cf. «Adros, ai¢e/ on the altar of Crissa). 
The absence of contraction in érroée, which Premerstein calls ‘“‘das 
erste urkundliche Zeugniss fiir die unkontrahierte Vorstufe zu 
ézrotet,”’ but which can be explained only in the manner suggested to 
him by Kretschmer, namely, as due to the analogical influence of 
forms like ésroéeov with regularly uncontracted eo, is just as likely 
to be Argive as Delphian. Or better, it is no more unlikely. 
We have some few examples of verb forms with uncontracted en, 
as Locr. Soxéé:, etc., which are probably due to analogical influence 
(cf. my Greek Dialects, §§ 42. 4 and 45. 5), but nothing parallel to 
érrolee, outside the pages of Herodotus. Accordingly I prefer to 
believe that the first of the two E’s is intended for ¢ (cf. EOINON= 
fotvoy in the Delphian stadium inscription, and other similar cases‘) 
and that the correct reading is évro/¢é. This form might be either 
Delphian or Argive. ; 

In duyo.=tvyo, if Premerstein’s reading is accepted,? the 6=¢ 
is new for either Delphian or Argive. But in view of the special 
relations between the Argive and Laconian dialects, the occurrence 
of ¢=6 in an early Argive inscription, and certain other facts (cf. 
especially Meister Dorer und Achder 52 ff.; in connection with 
Rhod. 70g’ =708’, note that Aevs has now turned up on a Rhodian 
vase), it may be said that the eventual appearance of 6=€ in Argive 
has been looked for. 

Dedication of land to the Muses of Helicon, by Philetaerus, son 
of Attalus of Pergamum. Two identical copies found in the neigh- 
borhood of Thespiae. Homolle BCH VIII, 158; JG VII, 1789; 
Michel 1103: 

Dirernpos "Arradw Ilepyapeds dvexe trav yav tis Moons ris “EAckw- 
vudderor tapav eluev ev Tov mavta xpovov. 

Philetaerus, whose patronage of the Greek cults and festivals is 
evidenced by dedications and decrees in his honor found at Athens, 

1Cf. Kretschmer Vaseninschriften, 97; Solmsen Untersuchungen, 147. 

2 This is questioned by Pomtow Woch. f. klass. Phil. 1911, 529, who still prefers 
to read roi 8° viol. 


Delos, Olympia, and Delphi (cf. Homolle, loc. cit.), had acquired 
and donated to the proper authorities certain land to be consecrated 
to the Muses of Helicon. The form of dedication is evidently not one 
furnished by Philetaerus himself. Rather the Boeotian beneficiaries 
commemorated his gift in their own dialect, but in the form of a 
dedication in his name. 

Dedications by the Theran Archedamus, from the Cave of Vari 
at the foot of Mt. Hymettus. Dunham Am. Jour. Arch. 1903, 
297 ff.; Roberts II, 199-201; SGDI IV, 796 ff.: 

a) "Apxédapos ho @ép|aios xarov Nu|udas épvrevoe 

b) *Apxé{aluos [h]o @€éplaios xai x0(p)ov (p)xeord?] Nwvpa éx|co- 
KL 080 uécev. 

d) *Apxedynpuos 6 @|npatos & vuud|dAnrros dpad| ator vupov | dvrpov 
éénpy | déaro. 
The dedicator, a native of Thera but doubtless a resident of Athens, 
follows the local practice in writing (a and 6 in Attic alphabet, 
d in Ionic except for O=), but in dialect mixes Attic and Doric 
forms. Even in d, where his name appears in Attic form, he uses 
the Theran é€npydfaro. The restoration of b, ll. 2, 3, is uncertain.! 


In his article on the epigram in Pauly-Wissowa, Reitzenstein 
remarks (p. 78): “Der Dialekt ist wesentlich epichorisch; wenn 
der Tote im Ausland begraben ist, der seiner Heimat. Doch hat 
die Einwirkung des Epos oder der Lyrik ab und an auch die dialekt- 
ische Form beeinflusst.”” The matter of literary influence is nowhere 
more correctly and concisely stated. But the words “wenn der Tote 
im Ausland begraben ist, der seiner Heimat” are only in part true 
of the facts, and imply a misconception, which may be observed in 
other writers, too, of what determines the dialect. Just as the 
dialect of honorary decrees is determined by that of the authors, 
not by that of the recipients, so the dialect of epitaphs is determined 
by that of the authors, not primarily by that of the deceased. If 

1The metrical dedication of Hegelochus (Loewy 40; Roberts I, 67), who was evi- 
dently an Ionian resident in Athens, is in the Attic alphabet but in the Ionic dialect, 

the only inconsistency being the spiritus asper in hudés, this being properly omitted in 
the dedicator’s own name. 

144 Cart DarRLinG Buck 

epitaphs are actually, in the great majority of cases, in the dialect of 
the deceased, it is because they are usually from the hands of rela- 
tives or compatriots, whose dialect is the same. But in the case of 
those buried on alien soil this may or may not be true. Note the 
following illustrations, of which the first three are in the dialect of 
the deceased, and the next three not in that of the deceased.! 

Hicks? 18; Dragoumis Athen. Mitt. XXII, 52; Wilamowitz Gditt. 
Nachr. 1897, 306; Wilhelm Oest. Jhrh. II, 227; found at Salamis: 
Epitaph of the Corinthians slain at Salamis. As we learn from 
Plutarch, the Athenians allowed the Corinthians to bury their own 
dead at Salamis. The epitaph is accordingly in the Corinthian 
alphabet and dialect. 

Hicks? 28; Roberts I, 77; found at Athens: 

Fragment of an epitaph and list of Cleonaeans (and Argives ?) 
who were slain in the Battle of Tanagra, and, as Athenian allies, 
received burial at Athens (Paus. I, 29, 5). The names show their 
Doric form and the alphabet is the Argive. The copy for the 
inscription was doubtless furnished by the compatriots of the dead. 

IG I, 477; Loewy 8; Hoffmann Syll. Epigr. Graec. 11; found at 


Dedication by Phocylides in memory of his wife Lampito. The 
alphabet is Attic, but the dialect Ionic. The phrase yijs dé watpwins 
shows that Lampito (and doubtless her husband) was a foreigner, 
and it is an altogether reasonable presumption from the dialect that 
the family was Ionian. Cf. Kirchhoff Hermes V, 54. 

IG IX, i, 867; Roberts I, 98; SGDI 3188: 

Monument of Menecrates at Corcyra. Menecrates was a native 
of Oeanthea, but this monument to him is from the hands of the 
people of Corcyra whose proxenus he had been. The epitaph is ac- 
cordingly in the Corinthian alphabet and dialect (with epic mixture). 

IG I, Suppl. 491" (p. 115); Hoffmann Syll. Epigr. Graec. 32: 
Monument of Pythagoras at Athens. Pythagoras was a native 
of Salybria, a Megarian colony, but the monument was set up by 

1The epitaph of a Syracusan woman at Athens, ANAZATOPA ZTPOKOSIA, 
is taken by Kirchhoff Studien* 109 to be in the Syracusan alphabet, but this is a 
doubtful case. For the only two non-Attic characters, = and I, may also be Ionic, 
since these were not infrequently used at Athens in the fifth century. 


the people of Athens, whose proxenus he had been. The epitaph 
is accordingly in the Attic dialect (with epic coloring in the vocabu- 
lary) except for the natural retention of the original form of the name 
Ladrvfpia and the Ionic form [lv@ayépnv. This last is in puzzling 
contrast to the converse substitution of [lv@ayépas by the Samian 
artist (above, p. 138), and even the explanation suggested by Mess 
Quaest. de epigr. Alt., p. 14, is not entirely convincing. The use of 
the Ionic alphabet is, in spite of Kirchhoff, perhaps of no special 
significance here. 

IG IV, 49; Roberts I, 127c; SGDI 3414: 

Monument of Gleucitas at Aegina. Gleucitas was a native of 
Salamis in Cyprus. But the epitaph is in the Aeginetan alphabet 
and dialect, and probably Diotimus, who set up the monument, was 
an Aeginetan. 

Similar to the two cases preceding the last is the fourth-century 
epitaph, JG II, 1678, of the two Corcyraean envoys who died at 
Athens and were commemorated by the Athenian state. But there 
are numerous other fourth-century epitaphs of foreigners who were 
buried in Athens, e.g., Hoffmann Syll. Epigr. Graec. 77, 78, 82, 84, 
85, 86, 87, 88, where the use of Attic has no such special explanation. 
Most of these persons had probably become residents of Athens and 
their children (cf. op. cit. 82) or other relatives naturally used Attic. 


Decrees granting honors or specific privileges to foreigners or 
to a foreign state are regularly in the dialect of the party issuing the 
decree, regardless of the dialect of the party honored. Thus the 
numerous honorary decrees of the Boeotian League or of any of the 
Boeotian towns, down to about the middle of the second century 
B.C., are in the Boeotian dialect, whether the recipient is a citizen 
of Athens, Alexandria, Antioch, Byzantium, Carthage, Chalcis, Delphi, 
Phalanna, Naupactus, Rome, Tarentum, or Teos. If Mycenae 
honors a Gortynian, or Troizene a Plataean, the dialect is that of 
Argolis. If Tenedos or Mytilene honors the people of Erythrae, the 
dialect is Aeolic. When the Eleans honor Damocrates of Tenedos, 
the dialect is the Elean of the time. And so on, in examples so 
numerous that there can be no doubt as to what is the usual practice. 

146 Cart Daruine Buck 

Although the great majority of the extant decrees of this kind are 
those which were set up in the cities issuing them, there is also a 
sufficient number represented by the copies which were set up in the 
home of the recipient. These show the original dialect retained, 
apart from occasional errors due to the local stonecutter. Thus, 
to cite a few of the most striking illustrations, an inscription found 
at Mytilene (JG XII, ii, 15) contains the text of a decree of the 
Aetolian League in favor of Mytilene, in its original Aetolian (North- 
west Greek xow7) form, a copy of which had been brought back by 
the Mytilenaean envoys. This is followed by a decree of Mytilene, 
in Lesbian, quoting from the Aetolian decree and ordering the 
inscription of both. From Cos (Paton and Hicks 13) we have a 
portion of a decree of Halicarnassus in honor of a Coan citizen and 
announcing an embassy to Cos to request its publication there. 
Subjoined is the Coan decree, in Doric, granting this request. Copies 
of Coan decrees in honor of citizens of Calymna and of another 
Coan decree accepting the proposal of the Calymnians to honor a 
Coan physician have been found at Calymna (SGDI 3611, 3612, 
3619). However, the dialect of Cos and Calymna was the same. 
From Iasus (Hicks! 130) we have a copy of a Calymnian decree, 
in Doric, in honor of certain judges who had been sent from Iasus. 
This is preceded by a decree of Iasus, in the xouvyn, in response. 
From Priene we have a decree of some Aeolian city, in Aeolic, in 
honor of a judge from Priene (Inschr. von Priene 60). Cretan and 
Delphian decrees in honor of Athenians have been found at Athens 
(IG II, 547, 548, 550). From Delos (Ditt. Syll.2 722; SGDI 5150) 
we have a decree of Cnossus in honor of Dioscurides the grammarian, 
a native of Tarsus. According to the text the decree was to be set 
up at Cnossus, and copies sent to the ‘“‘ Athenians dwelling in Delos”’ 
and to the people of Tarsus.! 

1 There is also no lack of examples of copies of other classes of decrees and com- 
munications which have been set up in the home of the party addressed. The copy 
of the Spartan decree found at Delos (SGDI 4415; Roberts I, 267) is in the Laconian 
alphabet as well as dialect, though the subjoined names of the magistrates are in the 
Ionic alphabet. We have Rhodian decrees found at Iasus, Seleuceia, and Cyzicus 
(SGDI 3750-52), decrees of Iasus, Naxos, Athens, and some Doric city, found at Cos 
(Paton and Hicks 14-17), decrees of the Aetolians and Naupactians found in Ceos 
(IG XII, v, 526, 527), Aetolian and Cretan decrees found at Mytilene (JG XII, ii, 16, 
17), etc. From Delphi (BCH VI, 460 ff.=SGDI 1412, 5151) we have a letter in 


We may now consider the few exceptional cases in which an 
honorary decree is not in the dialect of the party issuing it, but in 
that of the recipient. One, but of questionable significance, is the 
decree of Megarian Aegosthena in honor of Boeotian Siphae (JG VII, 
207), which is mainly in Boeotian, though with several un-Boeotian 
forms. The use of Boeotian is commonly attributed solely to the 
fact that the decree was in honor of a Boeotian town,' whereas I 

Cretan from Axus to the Aetolians, subjoined to a decree of the Aetolians in response. 
From Athens we have a copy of the amphictyonic decree of 380 B.c. (SGDI 2501) in 
its original Delphian form. In this case the Athenians are not specifically addressed, 
and no doubt several other copies were set up elsewhere. The most extensive series 
of foreign decrees are those found at Teos (Le Bas et Waddington III, 61 ff.) and at 
Magnesia on the Maeander (Kern Inschr. von Magnesia), dating from the early part 
of the second century B.c., and accordingly showing the various dialects employed 
in a mixed form. The Teian series embraces decrees, granting the privilege of asylum 
to the temple of Dionysus at Teos, from the Romans in the Attic xow#, from the 
Delphians and the Aetolians in Northwest Greek xoww4, from the Athamanes in the 
Attic xo}, and from twenty Cretan towns in various forms of mixed Cretan. The 
Magnesian series comprises replies to an invitation of Magnesia to participate in the 
festival of Artemis Leucophryene, also several decrees in honor of citizens of Mag- 
nesia, and affords a comprehensive picture of the linguistic conditions of the time. 
There are decrees in Arcadian, Boeotian, Lesbian, Thessalian, Cretan, Doric ow} 
(from Corinth, Corcyra, Apollonia, Epidamnus, Epirus, Acarnania, Achaea, Cnidus, 
Cos [?], Rhodes), Northwest Greek xo.v} (from Aetolia, Cephallenia, Ithaca, Phocis, 
Messenia), and the Attic xowv} (nearly all these from Attic-Ionic territory or the 
Macedonian cities of the Orient). 

1 Foucart (Le Bas et Waddington II, Explic., p. 2) says Boeotian was used “‘sans 
doute pour tre mieux compris des Siphéens.”’ Meister (note to SGDI 1145) says: 
“Ein Akt besonderer Héflichkeit war es, dass man in Aegosthen& den gefassten Be- 
schluss in den béotischen Dialekt tibertragen liess, um ihn in béotischer Fassung nach 
Siphé zu schicken; dass bei dieser Uebertragung einige unbdotische Schreibungen 
(éridh 2, éx 3, 9, éxreOjxav& 6, Orwr 8, Satfo. 12) in den Text hineingekommen sind, 
erscheint begreiflich.” This is also the conclusion of Dittenberger (note to JG VII, 
207), who discusses the other alternative only to reject it. His comment raises 
the issue so distinctly that it must be quoted in full: “‘Plebiscitum n. 207 Boeotica 
dialecto composita est. Quod utrum Aegosthenitae fecissent, ut Siphensibus Boeotis 
gratificarentur, an quia ipsi tum Boeotorum societati ascripti essent, Boeckhius quidem 
(Opp. VI, p. 365) dubitabat. Sed eos populos, qui cum natione Boeoti non essent 
per aliquod temporis spatium foederis Boetici participes erant, nequaquam propterea 
in actis publicis sermone Boeotico usos esse cum ex reliquis Aegosthenitarum titulis 
et nonnullis Megarensium (n. 27, 28, 29) tum ex permagno numero decretorum 
Oropiorum apparet, quae ad unum omnia Attica dialecto composita sunt (n. 237 ff.). 
Restat igitur prior Boeckhii interpretatio; etsi haec quoque res satis inusitata est, 
tamen aliquot eius generis exempla extant, veluti decretum Arcadeum quo Phylarchus 
Atheniensis honoribus afficitur (Syll. Inscr. Gr. 167) ipsum quidem sermone Attico 
compositum, cum index nominum subiunctus dialecti Arcadicae formas habeat."’ 
But where we are dealing with a practice which is admittedly unusual from either point 
of view, the one decree of Oropus in Boeotian is as good a parallel in one direction as 
the decree of the Arcadians in the other. Boeotian forms occur also in a decree of the 

148 Cart Daruine Buck 

regard this as, at most, only a contributory factor, since Boeotian 
forms and expressions occur in several other inscriptions of Aegos- 
thena, which was at this time in the Boeotian League. Certainly the 
case has no such unambiguous significance as it would have if it 
were, for example, a decree in honor of a Thessalian town and in 

The stock example, the one cited by Dittenberger in the note 
just quoted, and the one which even misled Hoffmann, Griech. 
Dial. I, 67 (cf. above, p. 134), into a generalization which is the 
reverse of the truth, is the decree of the Arcadians in honor of 
the Athenian Phylarchus, Ditt. Syll.2 106; Michel 198. While the 
subscribed names of the officials keep their native form, the decree 
proper is in Attic. But, for the very reason that this is an exception 
to the general practice in honorary decrees, it is not enough to say 
merely, with Dittenberger, that Attic was used out of compliment 
to the person honored. May not the explanation lie in part in the 
linguistic situation of the time in Arcadia, about which, unfortunately, 
we are still very imperfectly informed? The date of the inscription 
was formerly put in the third century B.c., but the character of the 
letters is more suitable to the fourth century, and for this and other 

reasons, this date is now preferred. Cf. Dittenberger’s note, and 
most recently Hiller von Gartringen Athen. Mitt. 1911, 349 ff. It 
is long prior, and would be even with the later dating, to the final 
adoption of the Attic xovvy in Arcadia. But this is equally true of a 
decree of Tegea in honor of a Thessalian Agesandrus, Ditt. Syll.? 476, 
Michel 189, which is of about the same time, and which is also in 
Attic.!. In this connection may be mentioned also another fourth- 

Phocians (Inschr. von Magnesia 34). And, what is more to the point, other inscrip- 
tions of Aegosthena do contain Boeotian forms though not nearly so many as the 
decree in honor of Siphae. Dittenberger recognizes those in No. 208, but thinks they 
are due to the fact that the stonecutter had just been working on No. 207 (‘‘quae 
in animo scribae ex eis quae paullo ante exaraverat haesisse videntur’’). But we 
have also the Boeotian phrase év weXTropépas in 210, 211, 214, @rete in 219, dae- 
[yp]4pav60 in 214. Plainly it was not unusual to employ Boeotian forms at this time, 
and at most only their more nearly consistent use in No. 207 can be attributed to the 
fact that it was in honor of a Boeotian town. 

1 The only trace of the native dialect is the retention of %umracis =%yxrnors, and 
even this not in its strictly local form (tvracis). The date of the inscription is 
generally given as the end of the third century B.c. But this rests on the remarks of 
Sauppe De titulis Tegeaticis pp. 5, 6: “‘In universum igitur literatura eius simillima 


century Arcadian decree, that of Psophis in honor of a Naxian, 
Inschr. von Olympia 294. Dittenberger says that the use of Ionic 
“‘mag in einer Riicksicht auf die Heimat des Geehrten seinen Grund 
haben,” and again refers to the Phylarchus decree as an example 
of this practice. But there is nothing in the inscription which 
may not be Attic as well as Ionic. It is evident that the 
occasional employment of Attic in Arcadian inscriptions (its 
influence upon the native dialect is apparent in the Tegean 
building inscription) is earlier than had been supposed. Only sub- 
sequent discoveries can determine whether this was confined to 
certain classes of inscriptions, such as those involving foreign relations 
like these two decrees, and how far it was restricted in time within 
certain narrow limits.’ 

Michel 188; Inschr. von Olympia 30: 

"Edogev *AXewior. Aidirov tov "AGav[atlov, MeAavoro huiv, mpogevov Kai 
ekepyérav tov "Adeov ypddoat év ’OdAvpaiae Boker. 
Meister Griech. Dial. II, 79, is certainly right in recognizing an Attic 
admixture in both writing and dialect,? and in his explanation of 
the same. This is not a copy of the original honorary decree but 
of an authorization to publish its result at Olympia. Diphilus had 
attended to the matter himself, and in preparing the copy of the 
authorization had allowed some Attic peculiarities to slip in. 

est, quae in titulis P. Foucarti et A. Michaelis esse dicitur,” and p. 8: ‘‘Itaque hoc 
unum restat, ut comparatis literarum formis cum eis, quae in titulo foederis arcadici 
habentur, etiam tegeaticum Agesandri eodem fere tempore scriptum esse iudicemus, 
i.e., sub finem tertii ante Christum natum saeculi.’’ The two inscriptions here 
referred to are the Phylarchus decree, which as noted above is now dated in the fourth 
century, and the Tegean building inscription, which was also formerly dated in the 
third century, but which, according to Wilhelm Beitrage zur griech. Inschriftkunde 21, 
belongs rather to the fourth. The forms of the letters in the Agesandrus decree, as 
described by Sauppe and as represented by Milchhéfer Athen. Mitt. IV, 140, also 
point to the fourth century. 

1 We know that the advance of Attic influence in Arcadia was not one of unin- 
terrupted progress. The native dialect persisted till about 200 B.c. (the decree of 
Megalopolis, Ditt. Syll.2 258, with all its mixture, is essentially Arcadian). But before 
this there had come into use, through the influence of the Aetolian and Achaean 
Leagues, a form of Doric xo.v}, and it is this, not the Attic xoiw4, which prevails 
in Arcadian inscriptions of the last two centuries B.c. 

2 Doubted by Dittenberger-Purgold, loc. cit. But, though Meister’s points are 
not all equally certain, the one occurrence of L =A, and the »- movable in @5oter, are 
not to be explained away. 

150 Cart Darina Buck 

Ditt. Syll.2 483; Michel 316; SGDI 1340 =4256: 

[@eds. r]ixa dyabd.] [eri rlpoordra Aeu[x]dpov, ddixopevwn ‘Trroabéveos, 

Teloia}], “Eppwvos, Sedinos, eof trois Modoacois mpofevialy] dopey rois 
The infinitive in -wecv is confined to the dialect of Rhodes and its 
colonies, hence déuev must belong to the speech of the Agrigentines, 
not the Molossians. Yet we must take decided issue with the 
statement in the note to SGDI 4256: ‘‘ Die Urkunde ist den Akragan- 
tinern zu Ehren in ihrer, nicht in der Sprache der Molosser abge- 
fasst.”” There is not the slightest probability that the Molossians 
employed the dialect of the Agrigentines in their original decree. 
But the envoys mentioned in the decree, who had come from Agrigen- 
tum and obtained a decree of proxeny in its favor, had themselves 
furnished the copy for its publication at Dodona, and, probably 
inadvertently, used their familiar déuev. 

An interesting fact, perhaps to be explained in the same way, 
if not accidental, is that in a long series of decrees of Olus in different 
hands (SGDI 5104) the one in honor of certain Gortynians (No. IT) 
shows Toptuviovs mpokdvovs juev Kal evepyéravs Kal Toditavs Kai 
avrows Kal éyydvovs, whereas all the others have only -os or -ous 
in the accusative plural. It was at Gortyna and Cnossus that the 
forms in -vs persisted longest. 


Decisions of interstate arbitration were regularly rendered in 
the dialect of the arbitrators, and copies in this form were set 
up by the states involved in the dispute, at home and often also in 
one of the religious centers as Olympia or Delos. The majority of 
the extant inscriptions of this class,! as it happens, involve arbitrators 
and disputants who have the same dialect anyway, or had come 
to use the same at the given date, by the spread of one of the 
forms of «ow7. So, for example, besides those most numerous 
cases in which the use of Attic xovv7) was common to all parties, 
a decision of unknown arbitrators in a dispute between Sparta 

1 Conveniently grouped in Berard De arbitrio inter liberas Graecorum civitates. 

Many of the texts there cited are not copies of the decisions proper, but decrees of 
parties to a dispute either authorizing arbitration or carrying out its terms. 


and the Achaeans acting in behalf of Megalopolis, copy found 
at Olympia (Inschr. von Olympia 47), is in the Doric xo.wn, which 
at the time, second century B.c., was used throughout the 
Peloponnesus; a decision of the Aetolians in a dispute between 
two towns of Phthiotis, Melitea and Perea, copy found at Melitea 
(Ditt. Syll.2 425; SGDI 1415), is in the Northwest Greek «own, 
which was regularly used by the Aetolians, but also at this time, 
about 200 B.c., in Phthiotis. 

But there remain some examples of decisions rendered by arbi- 
trators whose dialect was not the same as that of the disputants. 

Decision of the Argives in a dispute between the islands of Melos 
and Cimolos, copy set up at Cimolos, whence it was carried in 
modern times to Smyrna (JG XII, iii, 1259; Ditt. Syll.2 428; SGDI 
3277; fourth century B.c.).—This is in the Argive dialect; note 
especially the specifically Argive word dpnreve. 

Another, recently discovered, Argive inscription (BCH XXXIV, 
331 ff.; cf. also Class. Phil. VI, 219; fifth century B.c.) regulates 
the relations of Cnossus and Tylissus in Crete. If we had the copy 
set up at Tylissus, to which reference is made in the text, it would 
show the same Argive dialect. 

Decision of the Megarians in a dispute between Corinth and 
Epidaurus, copy found at Epidaurus (JG IV, 926; Ditt. Syll.? 452; 
SGDI 3025; Michel 20; between 242 and 234 B.c.).—Here, it must 
be admitted, nothing occurs, except in the personal names subscribed, 
which could not be Epidaurian as well as Megarian, and one feature, 
the psilosis in ém’ iapeds, is due to the Epidaurian stonecutter (cf. 
my Greek Dialects § 58b). 

Decision of the Rhodians in a dispute between Samos and Priene, 
copy found at Priene (Inschr. von Priene 37; SGDI 3758; early 
second century B.c.).—This is in the Rhodian dialect, in the mixed 
form which appears in all Rhodian inscriptions of the time. An 
earlier decision of Lysimachus in the same dispute is of course in the 
Attic xovvy, as regularly used by the Macedonians. 

Decision of the Milesians in the dispute between the Spartans and 
Messenians, copy found at Olympia (Inschr. von Olympia 52; Ditt. 
Syll.2 314; Michel 31; about 135 s.c.).—This is in the Attic «oun, 
which had long since been adopted by the Ionians, but not yet by 

152 Cart Daruinc Buck 

either Spartans or Messenians. This decision is preceded on the 
stone by a decree of the Eleans, in Doric «oun, granting the request 
of the Messenians that they be allowed to publish the decision at 
Olympia, and followed by a Roman decree, this last of course in 
Attic xouvn. 

Of a decision of the Magnesians in a dispute between Itanus and 
Hierapytna we have parts of two copies, one from Magnesia and 
one from Itanus (Inschr. von Magnesia 105; Ditt. Syll.2 929; about 
138 B.c.). Where the same portion is preserved in both copies, they 
agree except in some insignificant matters of spelling. The decision 
is of course in the Attic xowvy, but various Cretan documents, such 
as boundary records, decrees, and letters, are incorporated, in their 
original dialect. 


Of the thirty-five or so epigraphical texts of Greek treaties which 
are given by R. von Scala Staatsvertrdge des Altertums, erster Teil 
(down to 338 B.c.), all but four are in Attic. That this is the case is 
due simply to the fact that they are, except the four, treaties between 
Athens and various other states and are the Athenian versions of the 
same, found at Athens. The other parties to the treaties are of dif- 
ferent speech, Boeotians, Thessalians, Locrians, Phocians, Arcadians, 
Corcyraeans, Eretrians, Mytilenaeans, Argives, Byzantians, etc., 
but there is no trace of this in the form employed, not even when the 
oath to be taken by the other party is quoted—with one exception: 
In a treaty with Corcyra (Scala 143; Ditt. Syll.2 84; Hicks? 106; 
Michel 9; 374 B.c.) there is a feeble attempt, not consistently carried 
out, to give its proper Doric form to the oath to be taken by the 
Corcyraeans (ai xd tus =édy tis of the Athenian oath, though the 
proper Doric order is ai t& xa, also [@]dAaco[ar], [Ad]uaripal, 
but [y]jv, [8]juer). In a treaty with the Thessalians (Scala 176; 
Ditt. Syll.2 108; Hicks? 123; Michel 11; 361/0 B.c.) the oath to 
be taken by the Thessalians is given, like all of the rest of the text, 
in Attic. This is what is to be expected, not the touch of linguistic 
realism seen in the Corcyraean oath, which is rare.! 

1 Just as linguistic realism is almost unknown among the Greek prose-writers 

Xenophon being a notable exception in his fondness for a bit of dialectic color here and 
there. The puzzle in Thucydides is not that speeches of foreigners and treaties are 


The four treaties in other dialects which are included in v. Scala’s 
collection are: treaty found at Olympia, and in the Elean dialect, 
between two towns otherwise unknown, but doubtless, at least one 
of them, Elean (Scala 33; Inschr. von Olympia 10; Michel 2; SGDI 
1150; sixth or fifth century B.c.); another from Olympia, and in the 
Elean dialect (Scala 27; Inschr. von Olympia 9; Hicks? 9; Michel 1; 
SGDI 1149; sixth century B.c.) between the Eleans and the Heraeans 
of Arcadia (? this is the usual view, but is doubted by Niese Gene- 
thliakon Carl Robert, p. 20); treaty between Oeanthea and Chaleion, 
found at Oeanthea, in the Locrian dialect (Scala 58; IG IX, i, 333; 
Hicks? 44; Michel 3; SGDI 1479; fifth century B.c.); treaty between 
the Olynthian Confederacy and Amyntas of Macedon, found at 
Olynthus, and in the Euboean dialect (Scala 107; Ditt. Syll.2 77; 
Hicks? 95; SGDI 5285; 389-383 B.c.). 

Another, not given in v. Scala’s collection, though falling within 
its chronological limits, is the treaty between Eretria and Histiaea, 
found at Eretria, and in the local Eretrian variety of Euboean 
(Michel 7; SGDI 5307; early fourth century B.c.). Cf. also the 
monetary agreement between Mytilene and Phocaea, found at 
Mytilene and in the Lesbian dialect (JG XII, ii, 1; Hicks? 94; Michel 
8; SGDI 213; first half of fourth century B.c.); and a customs 
agreement, between Aegae in Asiatic Aeolis and certain "Odvprnvoi 
(revised text by Keil-Premerstein Denkschriften Wien. Akad. LIII, 
2, 112 ff.; probably late fourth century B.c.), found near the site 
of Aegae, and in Aeolic, but with some apparently Ionic forms 
(ef. Kretschmer Glotta III, 301). 

Of treaties of later date and not in Attic, the most numerous are 
those of the third and second centuries between various Cretan cities, 
as: of Drerus with Cnossus (SGDI 4952); of Gortyn with Cnossus 
(SGDI 5015), Lappa (SGDI 5018), Elyrus (SGDI 5014); of Gortyn 

regularly given in Attic form, but why an exception is made in the case of the two 
treaties between the Spartans and the Argives (V, 77 and 79). There is no probability 
in the view of Kirchhoff that all the other texts of treaties, for example of the three 
between Sparta and Persia (VIII, 18, 37, 58), were copied from actual versions in 
Attic and that the translation into Attic is never due to Thucydides himself (‘‘deren 
Urheber auf keinen Fall Thukydides sein kénnte, da dieser, wie die beiden letzten 
Urkunden des fiinften Buches beweisen, hellenischen Urkunden nicht attischer Fassung 
ihre dialektische Fassung zu belassen pflegt”—Kirchhoff Ueber die von Thukydides 
benutzten Urkunden, p. 153). 

154 Cart Daruine Buck 

and Hierapytna with Priansus (SGDI 5024); of Hierapytna with 
Priansus (SGDI 5040), Lyttus (SGDI 5041), Cnossus (SGDI 5073), 
Praesus (Rev. ét. gr. 1911, 379 ff.), Itanus (Rev. ét. gr. 1911, 415 ff.); 
of Malla with Lyttus (SGDI 5100); of Olus with Lyttus, copy found 
at Athens (SGDI 5147); of Olus with Lato (SGDI 5075); cf. also 
two inscriptions from Delos containing agreements of Olus and 
Lato to submit their differences to the arbitration of Cnossus (SGDI 
5149 and BCH XXIX, 204 ff.). While the same type of modified 
Cretan was common to both parties in the case of many of these 
treaties, e.g., to Gortyn and Cnossus, to Olus and Lato, this is not 
true of all. That between Drerus and Cnossus, copy found at Dre- 
rus, is in a mixed type which differs much from that seen in con- 
temporaneous inscriptions of Cnossus. At Hierapytna a Doric 
xown, lacking the special characteristics of central Cretan, was 
employed. It is this which appears in the treaty with Lyttus, the 
copy of which, though transported to Venice, must have come from 
Hierapytna, as is shown also by the fact that the same stone contains 
two other treaties of Hierapytna; likewise in the treaty with Priansus, 
the copy of which, though transported to Oxford, undoubtedly 
came from Hierapytna. But the treaty between Hierapytna and 
Cnossus is in a dialect which indicates that the copy, the actual 
provenance of which is unknown, represents the Cnossian version, 
and it is therefore so classed by Blass (SGDI 5073). So the dialect 
of the treaty of Gortyn and Hierapytna with Priansus is such as to 
indicate that our copy, transported to Venice, is either the Gortynian 
or the Priansian version, probably the former and so classed by Blass 
(SGDI 5024). There are also from Hierapytna, and in the Doric 
xown, a treaty with the Magnesians on the Maeander (SGDI 5042), 
and one with Rhodes. But the latter is rightly classed as a Rhodian 
inscription (SG@DI 3749), not because of anything in its dialect which 
might not, at this time, be Hierapytnian as well as Rhodian, but 
because it is in form a decree of Rhodes, a copy of which was brought 
to Hierapytna and there set up, embodying the terms of agreement. 
The situation is the same in the case of the joint-citizenship agree- 
ment, made at the behest of the Aetolian League, between the 
Messenians and the Phigalians (Ditt. Syll.? 234; SGDI 4645; Michel 
187; between 250 and 222 B.c.). The text is a copy of the Messenian 


decree, sent to Phigalia, there being added a decree of Phigalia 
accepting the terms of the former. 

Among other later treaties in dialect may be mentioned that 
between certain Lesbian towns, found at Delos, and in the Lesbian 
dialect (BCH XXIX, 210 ff.; third or second century B.c.); one 
between the Arcadian Orchomenus and Euaemon, in the Arcadian 
dialect (Athen. Mitt. XXXIV, 237 ff.; Solmsen Inscriptiones Selectae® 
2; about 300 B.c.); a joint-citizenship agreement between the two 
Phocian towns of Stiris and Medeon, found at Stiris, and in the 
Phocian dialect with some peculiarities from the neighboring Boeotian 
(IG IX, i, 32; Ditt. Syll.2 426; Michel 24; SGDI 1539; early second 
century B.c.); alliance between the Aetolians and Acarnanians, in 
Northwest Greek xouwn (Ed. ’Apy. 1905, 55 ff.; cf. Swoboda Klio X, 
397, who dates it between 272 and 265 B.c.). This last was ordered 
published on bronze stelae at Actium, Thermum, Olympia, Delphi, 
and Dodona. The copy we have is from Thermum. But Wilhelm 
(Ed. ’Apy. 1910, 147) has acutely recognized in a small fragment 
found at Olympia (Inschr. von Olympia 40) a portion of the copy 
set up at Olympia. 

In all of the above-mentioned treaties, whenever the parties to a 
given treaty are such as differ in their native dialect, the dialect 
employed is the one appropriate to that party in whose territory the 
text was found, so far as its provenance is actually known. That 
is, we have the home versions in the home dialect. We naturally 
conclude that the corresponding version which was set up in the home 
of the other party (or in the home of each of the several other parties) 
was likewise in its dialect—that, for example, if we had the version 
of the monetary agreement between Mytilene and Phocaea which 
was set up at Phocaea, it would not be in Lesbian, like the copy we 
have from Mytilene, but in Ionic. And this I take to be the prevail- 
ing view, so far as scholars have considered the question at all.! 

1[t is stated in the most positive form by Kirchhoff Ueber die von Thukydides 
benutzten Urkunden, p. 99, in discussing the treaty quoted in Thuc. v. 47, copies of 
which were ordered published at Athens (the one of which part has been found), 
Argos, Mantinea, and Olympia: ‘‘Zwar sind die Vertrige selbst in Athen geschlossen 
worden und die originale Formuliring ihres Wortlautes ist darum sicher in attischer 
Sprachform erfolgt; daran ist aber gar nicht zu denken, dass die in der Peloponnes 

publicirten Exemplare diese Fassung beibehalten haben sollten. Im Gegentheil ist 
fiir sie ebenso gewiss die epichorische Sprachform zur Anwendung gelangt, wie fir die 

156 Cart DaR.LiInNG Buck 

Yet we must look to future discoveries to furnish a concrete 
demonstration of this, for unfortunately there is no treaty of this 
kind of which we now possess more than one of the versions.! 
Nor, with all the explicitness which we often find in the directions 
as to where the different copies were to be published, and whether 
they were to be inscribed on stone or bronze, is there ever any 
mention of different dialects to be employed. This, however, is 
merely a lack of specific confirmation and not to be used as an 
argument in disproof of the employment of different dialects. For 
direct allusions to the existing differences in dialect are unknown in 
epigraphical records, as they are rare in literature. 

Pending the discovery of satisfactory concrete evidence, I hold 

in Athen publicirten Texte des zu Sparta abgeschlossenen Nikiasfriedens und des ihn 
erginzenden Bundesvertrages die attische. Selbst das in Olympia aufgestelltes 
Exemplar, obwohlim Namen und Auftrage aller am Abschlusse des Vertrages Betheilig- 
ten verdffentlicht, kann doch, da es an Stelle einer Sonderpublication der Eleer zu 
treten hatte und auf elischem Gebeite jedenfalls durch Vermittelung der Eleer 
errichtet worden ist, keine andere als Elische Sprachform gezeigt haben.”’ 

While this statement of Kirchhoff’s represents what I believe to be the correct 
view to take in general of the dialect of different versions, he went too far in denying 
the possibility of any exceptions and representing it as inconceivable that in this case 
the formal draft made at Athens was followed in the other copies. See below, p. 157. 
I do not, however, agree with those who wish to explain the verbal discrepancies 
between the text of Thucydides and the extant fragment of the Athenian version by 
assuming that the former was copied from one of the other versions, namely the 
Elean; and, still less, with Kirchhoff’s own view that the discrepancies are due to 
corruption of the text of Thucydides. This would imply a degree of textual corruption 
which, if assumed for the text as a whole, would render it folly for anyone to discuss the 
“language of Thucydides.”” Thucydides gave the text of the treaty in all essential 
agreement with the Attic version, but without seeking verbal accuracy, which is a 
comparatively modern requirement. Inscriptions have taught us, as Wilhelm has 
pointed out, that official duplicates were not always precisely identical in form. 

1 Two separate versions of a treaty between Olus and Lato found their way to 
Venice, but, while one came to light only recentiy, the other long since disappeared 
and is known only through a transcript of a transcript. Cf. Blass SGDI 5075 and 
especially Dieters De Cretensium titulis publicis quaestiones epigraphicae 27 ff. It is 
evident that the two versions differed here and there in the fulness of detail, in phrase- 
ology, in syntax (once al dé rls riwa ddixfoar versus al dé rls ka Twa ddikjon), and 
in the form of individual words. On this last point one must of course be cautious, 
for the transcript of the lost stone is full of obvious inaccuracies, but the following 
differences of this kind between the transcript (A) and the extant stone (B) are signifi- 
cant: xjs A=xal és B; worl A= ropri B; mrXloves A= wXlovev B; ‘Eorlay A ="Ioria[y] 
B; pvOuigovres A= pvOulrror[res] B; méurav, meprauréreé A= rbwrav, weprammércé 
B; (but also mepiaumérié B); OdSyTt, "OAd rior, *OdXovTlws, 'Odovriwy A= Bodde(v)re, 
Boddvriov, Bodovrlos, Bodoevri(wv) B (ll. 39, 69, 84, elsewhere "Odd vru, etc.). Except 
in the case of xjs=xal és, the A forms quoted show elimination of the local 


to the general truth of the view that the versions of the several 
parties to a treaty were published each in its appropriate dialect— 
but that on the other hand there might well be exceptions to this 
owing to the special circumstances of the formulation of a given 
treaty. The terms of a treaty might be incorporated in a decree 
passed by one party and copies of this decree be sent to the other 
party or parties. In this case the decree would be published in its 
original form, like any other decree sent abroad (cf. above, p. 146). 
We have already noted from the later period two examples of pre- 
cisely this procedure (p. 154, bottom). And even where the formula- 
tion was not in the form of a decree, it might now and then happen 
that copies of a formal draft, made by the recording official of that 

peculiarities of the B forms. To attribute this to the transcriber, to suppose, for 
example, that he corrected ropri into worl or pvOulrrovres into pudulfovres, is to give 
him far too much credit. It is just such variations between local Cretan and Doric 
(or Attic) xowvh forms that are now familiar to us in Cretan inscriptions of this period. 
But, while the inscriptions of different towns are distinguished by varying degrees of 
xoww# influence, we have too little material from Olus or Lato separately, to warrant 
us in deciding, upon this basis, their respective claims to these versions (a third 
copy, Moreover, was ordered set up at Cnossus). Note also that B itself varies 
between Bodée[y]r:, etc., and ’Oddrri, etc., between meprawmércé (and -ris) and mepiap- 
mérié, that both versions vary between al and ei, and that the Olus-Lato arbitration 
agreement (SGDI 5149) has both ropri and mori, both dyypddorr[e]y (nom. pl. like 
w\lovev) and mpdgéavres. Yet one may hazard the guess that B, which retains in part 
the old forms Bodée(v)r:, etc. (with 8 for earlier ¢), which occur elsewhere only in an 
Olus-Lyttus treaty (SGDI 5147), was the copy set up at Olus. It is nothing against 
this that Lato precedes Olus in the introductory lines, for the order is the same in 
both versions. In general, the order in which the parties to a treaty are mentioned in 
the heading or text has no such unqualified significance as has sometimes been assumed, 
e.g., by Boeckh, who, in commenting on this Olus-Lato treaty in the only version then 
known, asserts (CIG II, p.406): ‘nostra quippe tabula hand dubie a Latiis posita est, 
quemobrem Latii primo loco nominari solent.” So recently, but with more reserve, 
H. J. Reinach Rev. des Et. Grec. 1911, 381, remarks: ‘‘Le fait que, dans l’en-téte comme 
dans tout le cours du document, les Hiérapytniens sont nommés avant les Praisiens 
incline & croire que la copie a été faite sur le texte conservé aux archives d’Hiérapytna,” 
and points to other Cretan treaties (SG@DI 5015, 5018, 5024, 5040) as conforming. But 
while the precedence of the home city as the ‘‘ party of the first part’’ is the natural 
order, and is the one followed in perhaps the majority of cases, itis by no means an 
invariable practice upon which we can rely. Note, for example, from Athenian 
treaties in the Athenian versions found at Athens [cvyjaxla Bow[rav Kal ’ A@nvatwy] 
(Hicks? 84); ’Eperpiéw[y cuppaxla] cat’ A@nva[lwy] (Hicks? 86); cvppaxla Kopxvpalwy 
kal "A@nvalwy (Hicks? 106). 

As already noted, we have a small fragment of the Olympian copy, besides the 
nearly complete text from Thermum, of a treaty between the Aetolians and Acarnani- 
ans. But, aside from the fact that the fragment is too small to permit any satisfactory 
comparison, all versions were doubtless in the Northwest Greek xo.v}, then employed 
by both parties, and nothing more than slight accidental variations could be expected. 

158 Cart Darina Buck 

party at whose home the conference of the envoys arranging the 
terms took place, were sent to the other parties and published 
without transfer to the local dialect. 

A notable case, mention of which has been deferred until this 
point, is the inscription, JG IV, 556, Hicks? 120, pertaining to a 
peace agreement between the Greek states, probably one made 
soon after the battle of Mantinea in 362 B.c. It is not the text of the 
original agreement, but a resolution to announce this agreement 
and the attitude of the states toward Persia to the representative 
of the Persian satraps. This copy was found at Argos, but is in 
the Attic dialect. Upon this Wilhelm Oest. Jhrh. III, 147 and 159, 

Der Dialekt ist der attische, wie Dittenberger gelegentlich bemerkte; 

an sich fiir Ort und Zeit auffallig, erklirt er sich durch den Umstand dass 
die Urkunde nicht Sondergelegenheiten der Argeier betrifft Die In- 
schrift ist nur verstindlich als Beschluss der an der xow) eipyvy betheiligten 
Hellenen oder vielmehr als Beschluss ihrer bevollmichtigten Vertreter. Es 
ist anzunehmen dass die Urkunden solcher gemeinsamen Abmachungen 
attisch abgefasst, und dass sie von den einzelnen Staaten éffentlich auf- 
gestellt, mindestens im Archiv hintergelegt wurden. 
But this is a dangerously broad conclusion. Attic was certainly 
not a generally recognized medium for interstate proceedings until 
a very much later period. It is possible that at just this time the 
situation in Argos and some of the other states with reference to 
the use of Attic was peculiar (see above, p. 148, on Arcadia). The 
most probable conclusion, however, is that of Frankel RAM LVI, 34 
(cf. also Hicks, loc. cit.): ‘Und zwar nétigt die Wahl dieser Mundart 
zu dem Schlusse, dass unter den verbundeten Staaten Athen eine 
fiihrende Stelle eingenommen hat.’’ The resolution was drafted by 
Athens, as the leading state, Sparta holding aloof, and copies were 
published elsewhere in this form. 

Another question is, in assuming the existence of two or more 
home versions, each in its appropriate dialect, what was the form 
employed in those versions which, as was as often the case, were 
set up in the name of all parties («ovv7) in some center like Olympia? 

1 Doric forms occur in 1. 18. But with 1. 17 begins a new decree (cf. Frinkel 

RhM LVI, 244), and, for all that we can tell from the little that is left of these lines, 
this may have been wholly in Doric. 


If we could have before us, as Pausanias once had, the Olympian 
copy of the treaty of Athens with Argos, Mantinea, and Elis, we 
should note its dialect with the keenest interest. Yet it would not 
be a test case. For, as pointed out by Kirchhoff (see above, p. 156, 
footnote), this copy served a double function, and if it was in the 
Elean dialect, as assumed by Kirchhoff, and also by Grundy Thu- 
cydides 55, it was solely on account of its second function as the 
home version of the Eleans. The copies of such common versions 
found at Olympia, Delos, etc., are enough to show, what might be 
taken for granted, that the local dialect was not substituted. But, 
again unfortunately, they all, like those which have been mentioned 
above (passim), pertain to parties whose dialect was the same, or 
had come to be the same, for most of them are comparatively 
late. We may conjecture that, if we had treaties between parties 
of different dialect in the copies which were published in their com- 
mon name, they would show now the dialect of one, now of another, 
according to the channels through which they reached publication. 
But this whole matter of the dialect in treaties is the one, of all 
the questions which have been raised in this article, upon which 
more light from new discoveries is most needed. 

Note to p. 142. Similar skepticism of the reading ézotee is expressed 
in the posthumous article of the late Professor Solmsen, Jdg. Forsch., XX XI, 
448 ff. (see p. 473, footnote), which has just reached me. 


By Joun A. Scotr 

In the first thousand lines of the Iliad Achilles, Agamemnon, either 
Ajax, Idomeneus, Diomede, Nestor, Odysseus, Menelaus, Calchas, 
and Patroclus have been introduced in action or mentioned by name. 
The prominent heroes or characters are thus marched across the 
stage at the very outset; then, when in later scenes of the poem they 
have played their parts, they reappear at the games in honor of 
Patroclus, make their farewell bow, and disappear with no traces of 
mental or physical soreness. They are thus restored to the condition 
in which they were before the “Wrath’’ began. Evidently Homer 
had the conception of the Greek heroes distinctly in mind from the 
start; tradition, for the most part, had furnished him with their 
names and had already settled their fates: Agamemnon could not die 
in battle, for his death was reserved for his return, and so Odysseus, 
Diomede, Idomeneus, Nestor, and Menelaus must not fall at Troy, 
since their home-coming was a settled part of the epic saga, nor could 
any warrior win glory by slaying Ajax. The Greek leaders, as well 
as the individual fate of each, were already fixed and decided by 
tradition, which passing on from one Greek generation to the next 
would be definite and exact on the Greek side, but most vague and 
deficient concerning the Trojans. Homer had no knowledge of the 
Trojans except as Greek pride or Greek patriotism preserved it. 
Although the Greek leaders pass in review at once and we know who 
are to be the actors in subsequent events, there is no such an intro- 
duction of the Trojans. Except Hector and Priam, who are casually 
referred to in Book i, the Trojans are named only when they act. 
Paris does not enter and we have no inkling of his connection with 
the war until he comes in to challenge Menelaus to a duel. Aeneas, 
Glaucus, Sarpedon appear first in the Aristeia of Diomede, Helenus 
makes his initial bow in Book vi, Dolon in x, Polydamas in xi, while 
Coon, who forces Agamemnon to withdraw from his triumphant 
Aristeia, and Socus, who wounds Odysseus, win glory and death at 
(CLASSICAL PuatLoLoey VIII, April, 1913] 160 


their first appearance; Deiphobus and Asteropaeus are first named 
in xii; while Euphorbus, destined to have the great honor of wound- 
ing Patroclus, is not mentioned previous to that exploit. 

The poem is manifestly written entirely from the side of the 
Greeks, while the Trojans are introduced or created merely that 
they, the Greeks, may have antagonists. 

It is in finding names and exploits for the Trojans that Homer 
appears at his weakest. Tradition, Greek tradition, had supplied 
him with very few foreign names, hence nearly all the Trojans are 
fitted out with good Greek names. 

Book iv mentions a Greek with the name Chromius, then in later 
books four Trojans appear bearing that same name, one Greek and 
three Trojans have the Greek name Melanippus, one Greek and two 
Trojans are called Antiphus, two Trojans have the name Adrastus, 
two Astynous, two Ennomus, two Ophelestes, two Pylartes, two 
Thersilochus, and more than a score of the Trojans, such as Alestor, 
Medon, Noemon, Orestes, are identical in name with some Greeks of 
the poem. Tradition failed, too, to give Homer the names of Trojan 
gods, hence he assigns them an Athena with her pure Greek priestess, 
Theano. This same tradition failed to provide Hector with a wife, 
else she had not appeared with the Greek name Andromache. The 
same is true of the son Astyanax, as well as of his brothers and half- 
brothers, Deiphobus, Helenus, Polydorus, Polites, Antiphonus, and 

Paris is the only one of the Trojan leaders who has an undisputed 
foreign name. It seems unlikely that tradition could have preserved 
the name of the son and forgotten that of the father; hence the 
tradition found in Apollodorus ii. 6. 4, that Priam was at one time 
called Ilodapxns, is probably to be accepted as showing that the 
Greeks regarded Priam as a foreign name which they translated with 
Podarces, just as they translated the Trojan name Paris with Alex- 
ander. If Hector ever really had the Trojan name Darius, Homer 
gives no hint that he knew it.1. Even if tradition told how a foreign 
prince with a foreign name sailed to Greece to entice Helen, it did 
not give the names of his companions, and accordingly the poet must 
have his ship built by a Greek, Pépexdos, the son of the Greek 

1See Lewy, Die semitischen Fremdwérter im Griechischen, pp. 196 ff. 

162 Joun A. Scotr 

Téxtwy, whose sire was pure Greek, as is shown by his patronymic, 

Hector, in name, dress, character, and all, is a Greek loaned to 
the enemy; Paris by these same tokens is foreign throughout. 

The thesis I wish to establish is this: Paris was the traditional 
leader and champion of the Trojans, but for moral reasons could not 
be made the protagonist in the poem, hence the poet degraded him 
and created a hero of sufficient nobility of character to win sympathy 
for his cause. Hector, therefore, as he appears in Homer is the 
creation of the poet who conceived the idea of the Iliad. 

The place of Paris in tradition and Homer will first be discussed. 
We have scant knowledge of the contents of the Cyclic Poems, yet 
from the Chrestomathia of Proclus we learn that Paris was the leading 
actor in the Cypria, the poem narrating the events immediately pre- 
ceding the action of the Jliad, that he was a person of sufficient 
importance to be called upon to decide the contest of the goddesses, 
that he took a fleet to Greece in order to win Helen, and that on the 
way home he was able to capture the wealthy city of Sidon. All of 
this is in harmony with the conceptions of the Iliad, even if not 
definitely expressed. The deeds of no other Trojan find any place in 
tradition as reflected in the Cypria. The phrase «al Ovnoxe: Ipwre- 
athaos vd’ “Exropos is not an independent tradition, but is founded 
on the Iliad and in violation of Homer, as I shall show later. 

In the Aethiopis, the poem which takes up the events that follow 
the close of the Iliad, Achilies is slain by Paris with the aid of Apollo. 
No other Trojan is named by Proclus as sharing in the events of this 
poem. The Ilias Parva follows the Aethiopis, during the action of 
which Paris is slain by Philoctetes who has just come from Lemnos. 
Even here Paris is not slain as a coward or in flight, but was bold 
enough to face Philoctetes in a duel. No other Trojan acts in this 
poem, so far as known from Proclus, except Helenus, who like a 
traitor tells the Greeks how his own city may be taken. 

Here we find that in the first three poems of the Cycle, leaving 
the Iliad out of account, Paris is the only Trojan whose acts are 
of sufficient importance to receive mention in the Chrestomathia of 


Proclus. Paris alone of the Trojans had the honor in tradition 
of causing the death of a Greek leader, and that leader was none 
other than Achilles. 

The character of Paris in the Iliad involves constant contradic- 
tions. The first great contradiction is that he who is to be such a 
craven and a coward should be introduced as ’AX¢£avdpos Oeoedys, 
T' 16. Why this honoring name? Scholiast to M 93: é«A7On ody 
Ildpis, ody ds tives hacww, bt ev mypa étpadn, ard’ Stu Tov wdpov 
mapnrOevr totepov Sé "AreEavdpos, Sri TH watpidx nrACEnoev, 6 éotw 
éBonOnoe, trodeuiwv éreXOovtwv. Evidently the honoring titles, dios 
"AreEavbpos, "AreEavdpos Oeoedys, "AreEavdp@ Bacirju, which, at 
first glance, seem so inappropriate in Homer are in complete harmony 
with pre-Homeric tradition. 

The second contradiction is found in the fact that a Greek with 
his feeling that to be beautiful is also to be brave, cadds Kai ayabes, 
should have represented a coward as handsome. Paris is eldos 
apioros, I’ 39, and because of his beauty the Greeks thought he was 
the Trojan champion. It was the physical defects in Thersites on 
which the poet placed emphasis, and Homer had a real difficulty in 
representing the handsome figure of Paris in the guise of a poltroon. 

A third contradiction is found in the continued influence of Paris. 
After he had fled in Book iii and disgraced himself and his cause he 
should have had but little influence or power, yet on the evening of 
this very day, when Antenor makes the inevitable suggestion that 
their oaths be kept and Helen with her possessions be returned to 
the Greeks, Paris arises and insultingly replies: 

H 357: *Avrivop, ov pev ovxér’ enol hidra tadr’ dyopeveas: .. . . 

ei & éredv 59 rotrov dd orovdns dyopeves, 

ef dpa 8y rou erecta Oeot ppevas Srevav avrol, 
He flatly refuses to let Helen be returned to Menelaus, no one answers 
him, Hector is mute, and the herald is sent to deliver to the Greeks 
the opinion of Paris. The apparent character of Paris was so out of 
keeping with his power that Herodotus, ii. 120, could only explain 
the contradiction by assuming a tradition according to which Helen 
was never in Troy, but had been held in Egypt; otherwise Hector, 
in spite of Paris, would have delivered her to the Greeks. ‘‘ Nor was 
it as if Alexander had been heir to the crown, in which case he might 

164 Joun A. Scott 

have had the chief management of affairs, since Priam was already 
old. Hector, who was his elder brother, and a far braver man, stood 
before him, and was the heir to the kingdom. And it could not be 
Hector’s interest to uphold his brother in his wrong, when it brought 
such dire calamities upon himself and the other Trojans. But the 
fact was that they had no Helen to deliver” (Rawlinson’s translation). 
It is most significant that while Priam’s other married sons and 
daughters lived in the same palace with their father (Z 242 ff.), 
Paris had a palace all his own. The description of this palace 
(Z 313 ff.) shows that it was of unusual beauty. 

Paris is no coward in Homer and no weakling, since his heroic 
proportions show through, despite the efforts of the poet to represent 
him as mean and timorous. This is shown by the fact that he and 
not Hector determined the decision of the assembly, and by the 
following minute details: Paris was a leader of one of the great 
divisions of the Trojans (M 93). When Aeneas was hard-pressed by 
the Greeks he called for help, “trying to fix his eye on Paris” (N 490). 
In the very thick of the fight when Hector moves along the portions 
most engaged he finds Paris: 

N 765: rov 8& Tay’ elpe payns ex’ dpiorepa Saxpvoeoons 
Siov "AA€~avdpov, “EXevys roow qvxdpovo, 
Bapoivov® érdpovs Kai érorpivovra paxer Ba, 

His acts are in keeping with his words to Hector: 

N 784: viv 8 dpy’, drmn oe xpadin Oupds te Kerever 
px’, Grmy oe Kpadin Oup 
Hees 8” eupepadres dp’ Epoued’, ovd€ ri pyc 
dAxis Sevyoec Oa, don Sivapis ye mapectiv. 

The day was saved for the Trojans because of the skill of Paris: 
A 504: ovd’ dv mw xdLovro KedevOov Siow "Axaroi, 

ei wy “Ar€~avdpos, “EAXevys roots AuKdpovo, 

madoev dpurtevovta Maxdova roun€va Aadv 

i@ TpryAwyin, Badrwv xara dSefidv pov. 

But one Greek of any prominence is slain in the action of the 
Iliad, while comparatively few are wounded. Paris is the only 
Trojan to wound a Greek of the first rank who is not himself slain. 
Euphorbus and Hector who caused the death of Patroclus, Pandarus 
who wounded Diomede, Coon who pierced Agamemnon, and Socus 
who thrust Odysseus paid for their brief glory with their lives; while 


Paris, without divine aid, wounded Diomede, Machaon, and Eurypy- 
lus, slew Euchenor, Menesthius, and Deiochus; yet Paris escaped. 
His greatness in Homer is of a piece with the Cypria, Aethiopis, and 
Ilias Parva. 

Paris was an archer, but that was no disgrace, despite the angry 
words of the wounded Diomede. A people who regarded the ambush 
as the place of greatest honor (A 257) and a tradition which gave 
glory to such archers as Teucer and Philoctetes, or made the bow of 
Heracles his greatest possession and the bow of Odysseus the arbiter 
of marriage—these could not have considered archery a source of 
infamy. Paris’ sole weakness was moral weakness, and great as he 
was in tradition and is in Homer, the adulterer and false friend could 
not be permitted a position of epic leadership. No people under the 
control of such a leader as Paris could win sympathy, but since 
tradition furnished the Trojans with no other leader the poet must 
create one. 

Hector has no place in the pre-Homeric traditions as given in the 
Cypria. In that poem his name is found but once, where it is said 
that he slew Protesilaus: «at Ovnoxer Tpwreciraos ig’ “Exropos. 
Homer knew nothing of this, as his account of the death of the same 
warrior shows: 

B 698: trav ad Ipwresidaos dpyios ipyepovevev 
. tov 8 exrave Adpdavos avip 

vnds droOpwoKovta rod mpuricrov "Axatdv. 
The author of the Cypria, with the plot of the Iliad before him, could 
not see why so important a hero as Hector had no standing in tradi- 
tion outside of Homer, and so found him a place by quietly removing 
the Homeric Adpdavos avnp and substituting Hector. Here the 
attempt to give Hector a position in the Cycle not warranted by 
pre-Homeric tradition is evident and unmistakable. 

It is a matter of common observation that many of the leaders 
in the events described by the Iliad have designations which have 
no adequate explanation in the action of the poem itself. Priam 
who does not wield a spear is nevertheless évupeAims and though 
withdrawn from battle is still Sa/ppwv. Achilles, whether he be 
standing or seated, is mwédas dais and moda«ns, yet on the one 
occasion where he has the opportunity to show this fleetness of foot 

166 Joun A. Scotr 

he was unable to overtake Hector, and must needs receive the help of 
Athena, who orders him to refresh himself while she induces Hector 
to come near. The simple fact that an epithet is applied to Achilles 
which has no interpretation in the events of the Iliad shows that he 
is a traditional hero and not the creation of the poet. The epithet 
must have its explanation elsewhere. Odysseus early in the Iliad is 
called 6 rrodropOos ’Odvaceds (B 278), the reason for which is found 
not in this poem, but in outside tradition. Many other examples 
might be given, but these sufficiently illustrate the principle that in 
the Iliad certain epithets carry the implicit proof of traditions other 
than those used by the poet. If Hector be an old and traditional 
hero he should bring into the poem with him some traces of his earlier 
existence. What epithets are applied to Hector? He is avdpoddvos, 
Kopv@aioros, Sios, wéyas, paldipos, Silgiros, SBpiypos, atadXavros 
“Apnt, 6 Avcawdns hroy! eixedos, Opacts, mredw@pios, KpaTEpoy pnoTwpa 
goBo.o, Avi pit atddavros, loos “Apnt, yadKkoxopuvaTns, weyaOupos, 
Bony ayabes, xvov, immédapos, wayns Gros, Opnodiy jvioxyov, adracre, 
Toueva Na@V, VATE, KAVTOS, PiATaTe Traidwv, Sadpwv PidATaTe. 
Here is an unrivaled richness and variety of epithet, yet no one of 
them refers to any relationship, trait, or quality not shown in the 
poem itself. The Jliad furnishes a full explanation of every attribute 
given to Hector in Homer. If the number of epithets were small 
this might be due to accident, but here chance can have no part, and 
we may confidently assume that the tradition which among so many 
epithets has left no traces of its influence had no influence to leave, 
and that the character of Hector was beyond its power to shape or 

As already said, the Trojan leader, Paris, whom tradition 
furnished, was for moral reasons unworthy to be the great leader of 
either side, hence the poet was obliged to substitute another whose 
human and moral excellencies fitted him for leadership. The degrada- 
tion of Paris involved one great contradiction, namely, in giving the 
hearer the impression that the warrior who did so much was a coward; 
the creation of Hector involved the second great contradiction, 
namely, in giving that same hearer the impression that the warrior 
who did so little was a mighty champion. Tradition narrowed the 
poet’s range in either case; he could create a hero, but not a war. 


The prowess of the Trojans is described only in general terms, 
since no Greek of real importance is slain during the course of the 
Iliad. Patroclus is prominent merely because of his relations with 
Achilles, and besides him only two of any consequence fall, Medon, 
the bastard son of Ajax Oileus, and the colorless Tlepolemus. On 
the Trojan side the slaughter is almost complete; Adrastus (the Greek 
names deserve notice), Asteropaeus, Dolon, Euphorbus, Hippothous, 
Cebriones, Lycaon, Socus, Coon, Pandarus, Sarpedon, and Hector, 
these all perish. Paris is the only Trojan to wound a great leader 
and then escape with his life. Evidently the strength of tradition 
tied Homer’s hands, and gave Paris a charmed life in the Iliad. 

Hector receives high praise in vague and general expressions, but 
the events of the poem give no warrant for assigning him a high 
place as a soldier. He is found retreating at his first appearance in 
battle, he is no match for Ajax in the duel, is almost slain by Diomede 
with a spear and by Ajax with a rock, fainting each time; while he 
flies before Odysseus, Agamemnon, Patroclus, Diomede, Ajax, and 
Achilles. It is only as a man, a son, a husband, and a father that 
Hector really wins respect; that is, just in those qualities where he 
can appear noble without fighting the Greeks. Why is Hector so 
great as a man, so rarely great as a soldier? If one reads the list of 
the Trojans he will find, as already noted, that they with few excep- 
tions have Greek names; hence are Greek creations or adaptations. 
The Greeks had their own tradition of their own leaders conducting 
a war at Troy to recover Helen, who had been taken from Menelaus by 
Paris. Paris bears a Trojan name, his part in the cycle is sure, but 
tradition as far as the Trojans were concerned went little farther. 
It did not tell who built the ship, and so the poet had it built by a 
Greek who came of a line of Greek ancestors. The name Hector is 
probably Greek, as it has a good Greek derivation. If he, Hector, 
did really have the Trojan name Darius, then he was a subordinate 
Trojan rechristened with a Greek name and elevated to leadership. 
Homer gives no hint of having known Hector under any other name. 
It is doubtful if the quarrel between Achilles and Agamemnon had a 
larger place in the early Greek traditions of Troy than the quarrel 
between Achilles and Odysseus, which is given but ten verses in the 
eighth book of the Odyssey (viii. 73 ff.). At the opening of the Iliad 

168 Joun A. Scorr 

the Greeks are before Troy, and the Trojans are within the walls. 
The Greeks lose no leader, warrior, or king of independent influence. 
At the close of the poem both sides are in the same relative positions 
in which they were at the beginning. On the Trojan side the 
slaughter has been almost annihilation. Those who fell, Adrastus, 
Pandarus, Hector, and the rest, were for the most part created to be 
participants in the events occasioned by the Wrath of Achilles. They 
never had an existence elsewhere, and by their death the poet 
accounted for their absence from subsequent events of the Trojan 
Cycle. This explains the contradictions in the character of Hector. 
The Greek leaders were fixed and the fate of each known. Tradition 
had decided that Ajax was to fall by his own hand, Achilles to be 
slain by Paris, Agamemnon by his wife and by Aegisthus, and so the 
fate of each was already determined. What was there left for 
Hector? No new Greek general of any importance could be added, 
and no local hero could be replaced, no more than a modern historical 
novel of the American Revolutionary War could add a new and 
important general to the list of famous heroes. Homer then was 
forced to make a Trojan champion without the privilege of allowing 
him to slay any one of the really great Greeks. Hector’s greatness, 
therefore, is to be not military but human. Even so he must have 
some military glory, and accordingly the poet created the character 
of Patroclus. Patroclus does not appear in the Catalogue of the Ships, 
is not named in the Cypria except under the influence of the Iliad, 
Avedova te Ildtpoxdos eis Ajjuvoy ayayov ameuroda. Here the 
author of the Cypria, unable to explain the absence of Patroclus from 
tradition, reshapes the story of Lycaon, as found in Homer, to give 
Patroclus a place. Lycaon says to Achilles: 

© 78: kai p’ érépagoas avevOev dywy marpds Te pirwv TE 

Ajjpvov és nyabenv. 

Evidently the author of the Cypria used the Iliad to secure a little 
glory for Patroclus in the same way that he gave to Hector the honor 
of slaying Protesilaus. There were no families claiming descent from 
Patroclus, and the poet explains his lack of heroic following by the 
simple device of having him slay one of his youthful companions. 
His lack of descendants hinges on the same device. There was no 
place for Phoenix in a poem which exalted Patroclus, since each owed 


his prominence to the friendship of Achilles. The creation of the 
part of Hector involved the degradation of Paris; the creation of 
Patroclus, the practical elimination of Phoenix. In the paper, 
“Phoenix in the Iliad,” A.J.P., XX XIII, 68 ff., I recognized that the 
prominence of Patroclus had caused the eclipse of Phoenix, but did 
not then see the reason for the existence of Patroclus. Homer, like an 
Athenian father, could cause the death of no children but his own; 
Patroclus he could expose, but tradition’s child, Phoenix, he must 
not kill. So he might slay Hector, and also, just because he was the 
poet’s own, he could make him his mouthpiece to express his own 
advanced views on religion, patriotism, and domestic relations. In 
religion Hector is frankly rationalistic: 
M 237: tw 9 oiwvoier tavuTrepvyeror Kehevers 

meiBerOa1, Tov ov Te peTaTpérop’ odd’ dreyiLw, 

di 7 émt dE? iwor rpds HO 7’ HEALY Te, 

ei 7’ én’ dpiorepa Toi ye wort Lodov Hepdevra. 
There is nothing traditional about this. However it may appeal 
to modern sympathies, it shocked the ancients. Scholiast to this 
passage remarks: 0 dpompos cal Oedv timav olde Kal oiwvois meiBe- 
c0a, Strep “Extwp ov cuvinow. 
His views on patriotism are expressed in O 496: 

teOvdrw ov of deixés duvvomévy rept matpys 

while his ideals of domestic relations are shown in the tenderness with 
which Hector treats Andromache. It is certainly worthy of note that 
this devoted husband should have been reared in a polygamous 
household and should himself have championed a war founded on 
treachery and adultery. 

Milton stood in much the same relation to his sources as Homer 
stood to his. Milton must have an Adam and an Eve, a Garden of 
Eden, a Satan, a Tree of Forbidden Fruit. The tempter must 
appear in the form of a serpent and the woman must be the first to 
fall; all these he had in the Bible and they must be retained. The 
poetry, the descriptions, and most of the incidents were his own. 
Homer likewise had a list of Greek heroes, and a brief reference to 
the Wrath of Achilles, he was familiar with the story of the Rape of 

170 Joun A. Scotr 

Helen by Paris, a prince from Troy. Tradition supplied him with 
scant information in regard to the Trojans, hence the long list of 
Trojans with Greek names. Although tradition told of the death of 
such first-class Greek heroes as Protesilaus, Palamedes, Achilles, and 
Ajax at Troy, it told of the death of none during the Wrath of 
Achilles. Accordingly the poet had to content himself with the 
death of so subordinate a leader as Patroclus. 

This is in complete accord with the thesis of Doctor Leaf’s Troy 
that ‘The Iliad is a real record of a real event.”” He does not mean 
that Thetis brought Achilles an armor from Olympus, that Aphrodite 
rescued Paris, or that Athena trapped Hector, but he does mean that 
a real war was fought in a real place, and that that place was the 
Troad. Professor Davis’ novel, A Victor of Salamis, describes a 
real war in a real place, but the hero and most of the incidents are 
fictitious. One is history treated as poetry, the other history treated 
as fiction. 

The saga provided Homer with the idea of the Wrath, but the 
conception of Hector and Patroclus was the poet’s own. The 
dialogue, the speeches, the enthusiasm, the pathos, all the human 
interest were Homer’s and only Homer’s. Homer was far removed 
from the beginnings of poetry. The beauty and finish of his verse 
and language show long ages of development and prove that many 
great poets lived before Homer, just as “many brave men lived 
before Agamemnon.” These poets who were before Homer furnished 
him with the tools with which he worked, but he was the first to 
conceive of the Wrath of Achilles as the theme of a great epic. 

The Iliad is not the production of a poet who reshaped and refitted 
the work of others into a more perfect whole, who found his characters 
already made and touched them now at this place, now at that, who 
added a little here, removed a little there, but of a poet who largely 
created his own characters and gave them a name. Tradition gave 
no parallel account of the events of the Jliad from the simple fact 
that the events of the Jliad never had a being until created by the 
genius of Homer. 

If the Iliad be the work of Volkspoesie, or the poetic expression 
of an entire people, why was all that poetic ability centered on so 
unimportant a segment of epic tradition as the Wrath, and but ten 


verses given to the quarrel between Achilles and Odysseus, “the 
glory of which,’’ Homer himself tells us, “reached the heavens” ? 


Note.—That Hector and Ajax face each other so often is no proof of 
pre-Homeric tradition. Homer expressly says that Ajax was second only 
to Achilles. In the absence of Achilles he, Ajax, naturally would be most 
called upon to face the champion of the Trojans. When Achilles appears 
Ajax retires and the champion of the Greeks, Achilles, faces and slays the 
champion of the Trojans, Hector. 

If there was a real shrine dedicated to Hector in Thebes, the origin is 
easily explained. The word Hector is in derivation the ‘‘defender,” the 
same as the Latin stator. What more natural than for a city to dedicate a 
shrine to the ‘‘Defender”? Then later generations would confound the 
divine “ Defender” with the Trojan “ Defender,’ Hector. 

By B. L. Utuman 

A great deal of interest and discussion has been produced by a 
recent article by Professor Hendrickson in his brilliant series of 
papers on Roman satire.! As a result, four papers on this subject 
have already appeared,? and the present contribution, qualecumque 
est, owes its being to the same source. Professor Hendrickson’s 
chief point may be briefly summarized as follows: The word satura 
in the literary sense does not occur in extant Latin literature until 
the second book of Horace’s Satires. Other expressions are used by 
earlier authors and especially by Horace in the first book of the 
Satires where the context calls for the word satura. This situation 
must be explained as due, not to chance, but to the fact that the 
word satura had not yet come into use as a literary term, that, indeed, 
it existed until the time of Horace’s second book only in the legal 
phrase per saturam, from which it probably was adapted after Ennius 
and Lucilius had given their poems titles something like poemata 
per saturam. 

Webb and Wheeler have both made the point that the phrase per 
saturam presupposes a noun satura, and from this there is no escape. 
Therefore an explanation of this noun must precede any attempt to 
interpret the history of satire. It is my purpose to sketch the origin 
and history of the word and to touch on the various questions that 
naturally arise in the course of such a discussion. 

It is practically certain that our word is derived from the adjec- 
tive satur, “full.” According to the traditional explanation it is a 
feminine adjective with lanz or lex, or some other word, to be supplied. 
This assumption rests on a remarkable misunderstanding of our 
ancient authorities—a misunderstanding in which scholars, one 
after the other, have blindly followed their predecessors. Festus, 
in his epitome of Verrius, has the following: “Satura et cibi genus et 

1 “Satura—The Genesis of a Literary Form,’’ Class. Phil., VI, 129. 

2 Ingersoll, Class. Phil., VII, 59; Webb, ibid., VII,-177; Knapp, A.J.P., XX XIII 
(1912), 125; Wheeler, Class. Phil., VII, 457. 
(CLassicaL Parioioey VIII, April, 1913] . 172 


lex multis aliis legibus conferta, itaque in sanctione legum adscribitur, 
‘neve per saturam abrogato aut derogato,’” followed by other 
examples of the use of per saturam. Festus clearly uses satura as a 
noun, for he says that it is a lex. But it is Diomedes apparently 
who has been most instrumental in leading scholars astray (485 K): 
“Alii autem dictam putant a lege satura quae uno rogatu multa 
simul conprehendat, quod scilicet et satura carmine multa simul 
poemata conprehenduntur, cuius saturae legis Lucilius meminit. 

..” At first glance it would seem that Diomedes is using 
satura as an adjective modifying lege. But the phrase lege satura 
is balanced by the phrase satura carmine—in which satura is, of course, 
anoun.! Not only is it possible to take satura as a noun with lege, 
but the balance shows that we must consider it as such.2_ In the same 
way cuius saturae legis means ‘which satura, [i.e.] the law [not the 
poem].”’ In Isidorus’ paraphrase of Diomedes or his source, we see 
the same substantive use (Orig. v. 16): ‘“‘De lege satura. Satura 
vero lex est quae de pluribus simul rebus eloquitur, dicta a copia 
rerum et quasi a saturitate.’’ 

As for lanz satura, there is no authority for that either. Diomedes 
says: “Satura autem dicta sive a saturis, quod ... . , sive satura 
a lance, quae referta variis multisque primitiis in sacro apud priscos 
diis inferebatur et a copia et saturitate rei satura vocabatur 
Presumably the word satura of the phrase satura lance has been taken 
as an adjective modifying lance, but such an interpretation is clearly 
wrong because the word would be superfluous, not merely with the 
quae clause following, but especially with the last part of the sentence 
(a copia, etc.). Rather satura is a noun in the ablative in apposition 
with lance—from the dish called satura.” So also the Horatian 
scholia (praef. Serm. i): ‘Satyra dicitur lancis genus,” and “satyram 
a lance quae plena diversis frugibus.” Similarly, in the phrase per 
saturam, saturam is a noun with nothing to be supplied. Kiessling 

1It is very interesting to note that emendations have been suggested for satura 
carmine: saturo, saturae, saturarum carmine, and .satura carmina (cf. Hoelzer, De 
satura romana, 1865, p. 101). 

2 It cannot be argued that the different order of words in the two phrases shows 
that in the second phrase satura is a noun and in the first an adjective, for in the next 
sentence we find the other order for the supposed adjective: cuius saturae legis. 

* This is Lindsay’s text. Only one of his MSS omits est. Otto (Lindemann, Corp. 
Gram. Lat., III) in omitting est followed an unimportant MS. 

174 B. L. ULLMAN 

supplied poesis with satura in the literary sense. Not only is this 
unnecessary, aS we have seen, but it is very unlikely in view of 
Lucilius’ definition (342 Marx; cf. Varro Men. 398B) of poesis, as 
distinguished from poema. According to this definition Lucilius’ 
satires were poemata, not poesis.' 

If no noun like lanz or lex is to be supplied, how then was satura 
derived from the adjective satur? The neuter of the adjective was 
naturally used substantively, and, in the sense of “stuffing” (see 
below), the plural was of course most used. After a time the neuter 
plural satura came to be regarded as a collective feminine singular. 
To show the plausibility of this I first call attention to the following 
example: the Latin word fartum, meaning stuffing, often used in the 
plural, farta, became in Italian the collective feminine singular 
farsa—the very word which has often been quoted as a parallel to 
satura from the standpoint of the development of meaning. The 
survival of the word in Italian shows that it belonged to the popular 
speech in Latin, and the roots of this popular speech extend back 
to early times—when satura became a noun. But there are close 
parallels in Latin itself. Closest of all is another word for “‘stuffing,’”’ 
insicia (feminine singular) or insicitwm—both forms being found. 
The history cf the former is like that of satura: a neuter plural 
becoming a collective feminine singular; that is, we have here an earlier 
stage of the process which produced the noun satura. So, too, for 
impendium (commonly in the neuter plural) we find in inscriptions? 
(therefore undoubtedly the colloquial form) the feminine singular 
impendia. I realize that another explanation has been offered for 
nouns whose gender varies between feminine and neuter. Schmidt* 
develops the theory that the Indo-European neuter plural was origi- 
nally a collective feminine singular. But even if this be true, it does 
not follow that every phenomenon that involves these forms, whether 
it be in Latin or any other language, must be explained on this basis. 

1 Fritzsche (Horace Serm., pp. 11. 13) also took satura as an original substantive 
without ellipsis of lanz, etc., but he gave no proof for his opinion. After the above 
was written I found that A. Zimmermann, “Zur Herkunft d. lat. Abstrakta auf tura”’ 
in Zeit. f. vergl. Spr., XLII (1909), 307, pointed out briefly that satura was a noun in 
the Diomedes passage. His article seems to have escaped the notice of writers on 
satire. He holds that satura is a noun formation independent of satur. 

* Gruter, 62. 8 (C.I.L., VI, 629), 871. 8, 1070. 6. 

* Die Pluralbildungen der Indoger. Neutra, 1889, pp. 21 f. 


Schmidt’s explanation may well hold in some cases but cannot hold 
in all. The weakness in his position is that he considers worthless 
the evidence adduced by Appel! showing that, in late Latin, neuter 
plurals became feminine singulars. This process, coupled with the 
resulting usage in the Romance languages, proves that the change 
was a characteristic of popular Latin and very probably manifested 
itself at an early time. 

If then we discover that the rarer feminine forms of some of 
these varying nouns are found almost exclusively in writings more or 
less colloquial, and that the commoner neuter forms found elsewhere 
are generally in the plural, it is quite certain that we are face to 
face with an earlier stage of the phenomenon which resulted in the 
metamorphosis of a number of Latin neuter plurals into Romance 
feminine singulars.2 We can go farther than this, I believe. Many 
feminine nouns are to be accounted for by the supposition that they 
were originally neuter plural adjectives, rather than by supplying 
some feminine noun—there has been too much “supplying” both by 
scholars and pedagogues.* An example that seems a certainty is 
impensa, for which pecunia has been ‘“‘supplied’’—quite incorrectly, 

for not only does impensa sometimes mean building material, stuffing, 
etc., but the addition of pecunia is manifestly impossible in a sen- 
tence like Livy’s (xliv. 23. 1), impensa pecuniae facienda erat. 

What, then, was the original meaning of the noun satura? 
We are not limited to conjecture, for we have good ancient testimony 

1 De genere neutro intereunte in lingua latina, 1873, pp. 49 f. 

2? Some striking examples are: ramentum, generally used in the neuter plural 
(quite naturally so; cf. its English equivalent “‘shavings’’), but in the feminine singu- 
lar in Plautus Bacch. 513, 518, Rud. 1016; caementum, generally neuter plural, but 
feminine singular in C.I.L., I, 577, and feminine plural in Ennius; terricula, when 
neuter, found only in the plural, but the feminine singular was the ante- and post- 
classical form, found in Afranius, Lactantius, and Minucius Felix; labium, when neuter, 
generally used in the plural, but feminine singular twice in Apuleius, and once in 
Titinius, feminine plural in Plautus, twice each in Novius, Lucilius, and Pomponius, 
three times in Gellius (two of these in quotation), and five times in Apuleius; lamentum, 
generally neuter plural, but feminine plural in Pacuvius; armentum, generally neuter 
plural, but feminine plural in Ennius (twice) and Pacuvius; faenisicia (cf. insicia above) 
when neuter, found only in the plural (three times in Varro and once in Columella), 
but feminine singular twice and feminine plural once in Varro. Note the array of 
colloquial authors: Plautus, Afranius, Minucius Felix, Apuleius, Titinius, Novius, 
Lucilius, Pomponius. Most of the others are early. 

3 Teachers are familiar with the student who gets the notion that anything at 
all can be ‘‘understood”’ in a Latin sentence. 

176 B. L. ULLMAN 

for a perfectly natural meaning of the word. Diomedes, in defining 
satura as a literary term, quotes Varro: “a quodam genere farciminis, 
quod multis rebus refertum saturam dicit Varro vocitatum. Est 
autem hoc positum in secundo libro Plautinarum quaestionum 
‘satura est uva passa et polenta et nuclei pini ex mulso consparsi. 
ad haec alii addunt et de malo Punico grana.’’"! Webb has been the 
latest to point out that the use of autem shows that two citations from 
Varro are intended, one from some unknown work, the other from 
the Plautine Questions. In the former Varro defines satura as a kind 
of stuffing, in the latter he gives the recipe.? The fact that he does 
so in the Plautine Questions is almost certain proof that the word was 
so used in Plautus—though it does not occur in the extant plays. It 
is incomprehensible to me (and I here follow Hendrickson) how one 
can accept Marx’s conjecture that Varro’s comment was intended 
for Amph. 667 where saturam has the entirely natural sense of 
pregnant. So then we are led to believe that as early as Plautus there 
was a noun satura meaning stuffing. Probably by the time of Varro 
it had already become obsolete in that sense, and he therefore felt 
called upon to define it in his Plautine Questions. There is no 
reason for suspecting either Diomedes or Varro, as Hendrickson 
does. Diomedes’ statement is confirmed by that of Festus that satura 
was ‘“‘cibi genus,” by that of Martianus (see below, p. 194), and by 
that of Isidorus xx. 1. 8: ‘‘saturitas autem a satura nomen accepit, 
quod est vario alimentorum adparatu conpositum.” What motive 
could Varro have for giving such a definition if it were false? Why 
should he go to the trouble of inventing the recipe? Skepticism on 
these points seems to me unjustified. Ancient etymologies need to 
be critically tested and usually discarded, but testimony as to usage 
should in general be accepted. That the usage under discussion is 

1 Keil, I, 486. I adopt the punctuation of Goetz-Schoell, Varro L.L., p. 202. 

* This has been described as a sausage, e.g., Leo, Hermes, XXIV, 70, n., but a 
consideration of the materials used shows the absurdity of such a definition. It is due 
to the fact that the dictionaries give this meaning alone for farcimen. It is evident 
that this is but one of the special meanings of the word, and that it must have had a 
general meaning stuffing. Satura is not in the list of sausages mentioned by Varro 
L.L. v. 110f. Fritzsche (Horace Serm., p. 13) curiously takes Varro’s farcimen to 
be the same as the Janz. He was evidently trusting his memory for Varro’s recipe. 

‘There is no reason for assuming that the recipe given in the Plautine Questions does 

not apply to the genus farciminis, as Pease assumes in Harper’s Dict. of Class. Lit., 8.v. 


a natural one is attested by the parallel of the Italian ripieno, “‘stuf- 
fing,’ derived from the Latin replenus, “full.’”! 

From the meaning stuffing it is possible that all the other mean- 
ings of the word were derived. It was of course the miscellaneous 
character of the satura that suggested itself when the use of the word 
was extended. As for the satura which Diomedes defines as a lanz, 
there is little to be said, since we have no citations of such a use. It 
is very strange that he cites two examples of the word lanz to explain 
the word satura! In view of this state of affairs we can hardly 
object to skepticism concerning this usage, although scholars, fol- 
lowing the Horatian scholia, have given it much greater prominence 
than Varro’s genus farciminis. 

The collective noun satura seems, at some time in its history, to 
have become an abstract noun, meaning “fulness,” perhaps giving 
name to the local goddess Satura (Saturae palus, Verg. Aen. vii. 801). 
It is found in the glosses in conjunction with satietas, saturitas, and 
abundantia as a translation for the Greek words xépos, mAnopevn, 
yopracla (C.G.L., II, 353, 48; 410, 8; 478, 4). 

Taking up the phrase per saturam, it is clear that it was a politico- 
legal one in origin, for it is used in a legal sense in the earliest examples, 
and whenever not so used there is almost always some indication 
that the context is figurative. It is difficult to say whether the 
phrase is derived from the culinary use of satura or not.’ In its later 
history, at least, it seems sometimes to be associated more directly 
with the meaning fulness. Perhaps the most plausible explanation 
is to assume an origin from the culinary sense, and, in the later 
examples, an influence from the abstract noun, or from the adjective 
satur. Of the original use we have the following examples: Festus 
states that it was used in the sanctio of laws, “neve per saturam 

1 Note the analogy of the English word “‘filling.’’ 

? That it is used in a comparison by Fronto (see below) makes it certain that it 
could normally be applied only to legal matters. The use of quasi or tamquam by 
Sallust and others points to the same conclusion, for it is not the archaism that these 
words apologize for. Their inherent meaning makes this impossible; ut ita dicam 
is the proper phrase. Even so I doubt if the deliberate archaizer Sallust ever felt it 
necessary to apologize for an obsolete expression. 

* Somewhat parallel are the words of a newspaper editorial, ‘legislative omelette’”’ 
and “‘chop-suey menu,’’ referring to the program of legislation at the opening of a 
session of Congress. It is the sort of phrase that springs up and spreads in the heat 
of political strife. 

178 B. L. ULLMAN 

abrogato aut derogato”; he cites further an example from Annius 
Luscus’ speech against Tiberius Gracchus, “Imperium quod plebes 
per saturam dederat, id abrogatum est,”! and another from C. 
Laelius’ speech “pro se,” but unfortunately the words are lost. It 
occurs also in the lex Acilia Repetundarum of 122/1 B.c. (C.I.L., 
I. 198. 72), though with in for per: “extra quam sei quid in saturam 
feretur.”’ Again in the Schol. Bob. on Cic. Mil. 14: “hoc autem [i.e., 
divisio sententiae] solebat accidere cum videbatur aliquis per saturam 
de multis rebus unam sententiam dixisse.’’ In all these cases the 
reference is to a lex or sententia containing a number of unrelated 
provisions.2 Hence the term lex per saturam naturally arose. The 
term satura likewise was applied to such an omnibus law. For the 
latter term we have the testimony of Festus and Diomedes already 
quoted, and in addition the Latin-Greek gloss (C.G.L., II, 179, 9), 
satura: véuos moda tepiéywv. For the term lex per saturam we 
have the Greek-Latin gloss (ibid., 376, 67), véuos mwoAda trepiéyor: 
lex per saturam. Now a relation evidently exists between these 
glosses. The use of the same Greek phrase at once suggests that the 
latter is copied from the former, and such presumably has been the 
general impression. Marx (Lucil. ii, p. 23) says that it is apparent 
that both were taken from the source that Diomedes used. But if 
we look closer, we see that the Latin equivalents of the Greek phrase 
differ. Now the phrase lex per saturam could not possibly be a cor- 
ruption of satura—though the reverse might be the case; therefore 
the Greek-Latin gloss could not have been copied from the other. 
In lex per saturam we have just such a phrase as we should expect. 
Thus the evidence as to the relation of the glosses to each other 
appears to be contradictory. It would seem that they are inde- 
pendent, though the appearance of the same Greek phrase in both 
remains unexplained. This was the point I had reached when 
Bannier’s highly important article was published (Philologus, LXI 

1 Marx (on Lucil. 48) assumes that the phrase is used figuratively here—why, I 

cannot understand. Mommsen on the lex Acilia (see below) does not take it so: 
see below, p. 179. 

2 Stowasser (Lat.-Deutsches Schulwérterbuch, 2d ed., 1900) states that the Lez 
Caecilia Didia of 98 B.c. contained a clause ‘‘ne quis per saturam ferret.” While it 
did undoubtedly contain words to that effect (see below) these words are not actually 
preserved to us, as Stowasser implies. 


[1912], 238). Bannier has proved conclusively that many of the 
Greek-Latin glosses were taken from Latin and Greek versions of 
various codes of laws like Justinian’s Digest. Undoubtedly the 
Latin-Greek glossary was formed in the same way. Now there 
were several versions in Greek and Latin of these law codes, as 
Bannier remarks. Thus the similarity between the two glosses 
finds an explanation. The author of the Greek-Latin glossary had 
before him a Latin version differing from the one used by the other 
glossographer.!. Thus we see that both lex per saturam and satura 
existed as legal terms. We shall see presently that Justinian was 
familiar with the term per saturam. 

There is, moreover, in my opinion, another example of the 
phrase lex per saturam, though it has not been recognized as such. 
Diomedes quotes the following line from Lucilius: “Per saturam 
aedilem factum qui legibus solvat.”’ Per saturam would naturally be 
taken with factum, but that would give an impossible meaning unless 
per saturam is used figuratively to mean “in confusion,” and this is 
how Mommsen (R. St., IIT, 336, n. 5), followed by Marx (in his edition 
of Lucilius), takes it. But the figurative use is not found before 
Sallust, and even then is regularly apologized for. Leo (Hermes, 
XXIV, 69, n. 3) takes per saturam with solvat and suggests that either 
factum means “einen in aller Form gewihliten,” or legibus depends 
on factum as well as solvat. But even so, the sentence is not satis- 
factory from the legal standpoint. It is hard to see how one could 
be exempted per saturam from the provisions of alaw. We have seen 
that lex per saturam is not only a natural phrase but one actually 
found. What more likely than to take per saturam with legibus 
in Lucilius’ verse, translating: ‘which frees a duly elected aedile 
from omnibus laws”? Legibus solvere is a common phrase, as Marx 
shows, and since it was by the senate that laws were suspended, we 
must understand senatus as the antecedent of qui. The interpreta- 
tion of per saturam that I have suggested is not only plausible in 
itself, but prepares for an explanation of Lucilius’ line in its context 
that is, it seems to me, more likely than Marx’s. Marx has shown 
that the first book, to which this verse is attributed by Diomedes, 

1 Bannier has, as he himself says, merely pointed the way for a thorough study of 
these glossaries—a study well worth making. 

180 B. L. ULuMAn 

deals largely with L. Cornelius Lentulus Lupus, a political opponent 
of Lucilius’ patron, Scipio Aemilianus. It would therefore be desir- 
able to connect this line with Lupus—an advantage which is secured 
by the interpretation which follows. As the line stands, it is to be 
noted that there is a strong emphasis on per saturam, standing first 
and separated from legibus. What was Lucilius’ probable attitude 
toward per saturam laws? It is easy to guess. T. Annius Luscus, 
a conservative of Scipio’s party, in a speech against the democrat 
Ti. Gracchus, denounces a lex per saturam.! C. Laelius, a personal 
and political friend of Scipio, in a speech in his own defense, perhaps 
against the Gracchi and their fellow-democrat, C. Papirius Carbo, 
as Meyer suggests (Orat. Rom. Frag., 2d ed., p. 173), used the phrase 
per saturam, no doubt in a similar connection. In 98 B.c. the con- 
servative consuls Caecilius and Didius succeeded in having passed 
the lex Caecilia Didia, which was meant to act as a check on the 
tribunes by making leges per saturam illegal.2 In 91 B.c. the con- 
servative senators pointed out that the law proposed by the democrat 
Drusus would be a lex per saturam and therefore illegal according to 
the lex Caecilia Didia, and by these obstructive tactics they brought 
on the Social War. The lex per saturam always was a weapon 
of the democrats. It would be interesting to trace the complete 
history of its use. From all this we see that Lucilius, fighting for 
the conservative cause, would naturally attack a lex per saturam. 
Besides, Lucilius’ own patron, Scipio, had himself been freed from the 
operation of certain laws (Livy Per. 50). If Lucilius were objecting 
to the senate’s action, he would at once lay himself open to the charge 
of inconsistency. We may be confident then that Lucilius is defend- 
ing in one form or another the senate’s action. Now, as Marx cor- 
rectly discerned from the words aedilem factum, the laws which the 
senate suspended in this case were concerned with the election of 
magistrates. In view of the extreme rarity of such suspensions it is 
more than likely that Lucilius is referring to the exemption of Scipio 
in the year 148 from the operation of the lex Villia annalis which 

1See Festus above. Mommeen (R. St., I, 336) suggests, plausibly enough, that 
the imperium mentioned in the citation from Luscus was that granted by Gracchus’ 
land bill to the three commissioners. 

2 Lange, Rim. Alterthtimer, III (2d ed.), 86. 
* For other instances see tbid., II (3d ed.), 471. 


fixed the prerequisites for the various magistracies.' Since the 
consular elections were regularly held before the others,? Scipio must 
have been elected consul before the election of the aediles took place. 
Remembering that at that time elections were viva voce, it is easy to 
imagine what happened. When Scipio appeared at the voting-place, 
a great shout no doubt arose, like the acclamations which greeted 
Cicero at the elections in 64.3 When the individual voter was asked 
for whom he wished to vote, he declared, amidst the enthusiasm, for 
Scipio.4 The senate and the consuls® refused to accept the election. 
No doubt the consuls went on with the other elections,‘ and probably 
the senators saw to it that Scipio was regularly elected aedile, as 
originally planned, in the hope of satisfying the people. But the 
people would not be satisfied and the senate was finally forced to 
recognize the election of Scipio to the consulship. This situation 
exactly fits Lucilius’ line. Per saturam legibus would refer to the lex 
Villia.?’ This law was introduced by a tribune and directed against 
the young nobles eager for public office, thus being intended as a 
democratic measure. It would not be surprising, therefore, if it 

41 Mommeen (R. St., I, 539, n. 1) lists the cases on record of the suspension of the 
lex Villia. Scipio’s is the only case from its passing in 180 down to the end of Lucilius’ 
life—in fact to Pompey’s consulship in 70 8.c. Pompey’s case is the only real parallel, 
for other candidates either were unsuccessful or did not consult the senate. If there 
had been other cases, we surely should have heard of them in connection with 
Pompey’s exemption. Even so, no attempt to evade the law was made until Julius 
Caesar Strabo unsuccessfully ran for the consulship for the year 87, without having 
been praetor. Unsuccessful also was Calpurnius Bestia for the year 42. The younger 
Marius gained the consulship for 82 by force, although he was below the legal age. 
Q. Lucretius Ofella, candidate for the consulship for 80, was put to death by order 
of Sulla for presuming to sue for the consulship without having held the praetorship 
or quaestorship. A reference to the histories will show what a political crisis existed 
when Scipio was freed from the operation of the laws. The case, in fact, became a 
famous subject for deliberatio, like that of whether Carthage should be destroyed or not 
(ad Heren. iii. 2. 2). 

2 Mommeen, R. St., I, 580, n. 2. 3 Cic. De leg. agr. ii. 2. 

‘Or the details may have been more like those described by Plutarch (Paul. 10) 
for the year 168 B.c. No professio was required in those days (Mommsen, R. St., I, 502): 
‘‘Kénnen daher sogar am Wahltage selbst neue Candidaturen aufgestellt und auch 
wer sich nicht meldet, gewahlt werden.” 

’ Appian, Pun. 112, specifically mentions the consuls. 
6 The senators held out for some time (aliquamdiu, Livy Per. 50). 

7 Possible also the lex Pinaria, about which we know next to nothing. Livy, 
Per., says that Scipio was legibus solutus. 

8 Lange, op. cit., IT, 259 f. 

182 B. L. ULLMAN 

were open to the same objection as so many other democratic 
measures—namely, that it was a lex per saturam, though, to be sure, 
we know scarcely anything about it. 

The attitude of Lupus to all this can easily be surmised. He was 
a senator and successful candidate for the censorship at the time of 
Scipio’s election. We know from Cicero (T usc. iii. 51) that Lupus 
was opposed to Cato on the big political issue of the day—the third 
war with Carthage. Scipio’s election to the consulship was due to 
the desire to send him to Africa, a scheme which Cato heartily 
favored. Evidently Lupus was one of the leaders in the opposition 
to the recognition of Scipio as consul. 

We may thus imagine that in his first book Lucilius represents 
Lupus as heaping anathemas upon a senate which suspends the laws 
for an individual, and an individual, moreover, who has held no curule 
office previously; to whom Lucilius (or his spokesman) retorts: 
“What, you find fault with a senate which releases a duly elected 
aedile (there’s your curule office for you) from the operation of laws 
that are per saturam (and therefore vicious and in spirit unconstitu- 
tional) ?”’ Or, if Marx has placed the line correctly, the god who 
has been calling Lupus a vulturius, etc., goes on with his description 
of Lupus as a man who finds fault with a senate because it frees, 
etc. In either case, aedilem factum would have a humorous point 
such as we should expect in a burlesque like Lucilius’ first. book.’ 

We have then the testimony of the glosses for the terms satura 
and lex per saturam—a testimony made as strong as that of the Digest 
or the Institutes by Bannier’s paper. For lex per saturam we have 
very probably also the testimony of Lucilius—as well as the proba- 
bility of the expression. For the term satura (not lex satura) we 
have the testimony of Festus and Diomedes as well. The term satura 
did not, of course, come directly from the term lex per saturam; 
rather the latter suggested the possibility of using satura, “mis- 
cellany,” in the restricted sense of a miscellaneous law. Yet scholars 
have been skeptical about its existence. Why should not anything 
at all that was of a miscellaneous nature be called a satura? Much, 

1Cichorius (Untersuch. z. Lucil., p. 234) builds up an explanation based on 

Marx’s, though much less probable, and far more hypothetical, it seems to me, than the 
one just presented. 


if not all, of the skepticism is due to Festus’ language. Since he 
follows up his definition of satura as a lex with examples of the phrase 
per saturam, it has been assumed that Verrius (Festus’ source) mis- 
interpreted the phrase per saturam. But in view of his extensive 
legal knowledge,! this assumption is extremely unlikely. Further- 
more, it is hard to believe that Verrius, who could, as a boy, have 
known Sallust, failed to understand his own quotation from Sallust. 
Therefore there is either another lacuna in our text of Festus, based 
as it is on a solitary MS (that there is one lacuna is certain), or—and 
this is more likely—Festus has abridged Verrius carelessly at this 
point. Verrius may have gone on to say (after conferta) that lex 
per saturam was also used and that such a law was considered illegal, 
that hence (itaque), etc. As the passage stands, itaque is rather 

The further history of the phrase per saturam is of interest, but 
has never been adequately presented.* Perhaps the words of the 
Bobio scholia on Cicero’s Milo 14 show best of all what connotation 
the phrase gathered to itself. After the words given above, the 
passage runs on: “et habebat nonnunquam conexio huiusmodi rerum 
multarum fraudulentas captiones, ut rebus aequis res improbae mis- 
cerentur atqueita blandimentis quibusdam obreperent ad optinenda 
ea quae si per se singulariter proponerentur, displicere deberent.”’ 
The three ideas that associated themselves with the phrase, partly 
because of its etymology, partly because of its legal usage, were (1) 
fulness (completeness, plurality), which resulted in (2) miscellaneous- 
ness (confusion), which, in turn, was deliberately aimed at for 
(3) deceit (the connotation gained in the legal usage). Sometimes 
one or another of these ideas is prominent, sometimes two, some- 
times all three, as in the passage just quoted (note multarum, fraudu- 
lentas, miscerentur). Per se and singulariter are here used as the 
opposites of per saturam in the first of these senses. 

The phrase is used in a figurative sense for the first time by the 

1In this connection a glance over the lemmata from Festus in Bruns’s Fontes 
(7th ed.), covering more pages than the material from all other literary sources com- 
bined, is of interest. 

* Diomedes has of course distorted his source still more than Festus. 

+ Funck, Arch. f. lat. Lex., V (1888), 37, hardly does more than to give a list of 
the examples. 

184 B. L. ULLMAN 

archaizer Sallust (Jug. xxix. 5): ‘dein postero die quasi per saturam 
sententiis exquisitis in deditionem accipitur.”” Note the apologetic 
quasi.' Here all three ideas are present. Ammianus Marcellinus, 
probably imitating Sallust, shows the same usage (xvi. 6. 3): “tam- 
quam per saturam subito cubiculariis suffragantibus.” Ammianus 
uses tamquam in place of quasi. Fronto (p. 212, Naber) has the 
following: “si divisa generatim argumenta nectemus, non sparsa nec 
sine discrimine aggerata, ut ea? quae per saturam feruntur, sed ut 
praecedens sententia in sequentem laciniam aliquam porrigat.” 
Fronto goes back directly to the legal usage and adapts it in a simile. 
Per saturam here has only the first two senses, and in Fronto’s own 
words means sine discrimine aggerata and is the opposite of divisa 
generatim.? In Charisius (K. ii. 194. 21), “adverbum stoici.... 
pandecten vocent. nam omnia in se capit quasi collata per saturam,” 
the emphasis is on the first meaning, though the second is not excluded. 
The third, of course, has no place here. Quasi is again used. In 
Panegyrici lat. v. 11. 1, we find the following: “separate igitur 
utrumque dicam; neque enim quasi per saturam confundenda sunt 
tanta beneficia.” Per saturam is contrasted with separate; thus the 
first meaning is prominent, but confundenda points to the second 
as well. Again we have quasi. Justinian, Praef. dig., p. xv, goes 
back to the legal use: “hoc opus . . . . non secundum edicti per- 
petui ordinationem, sed passim et quasi per saturam collectum et 
utile cum inutilibus mixtum.” The emphasis is on the second sense, 
of confusion, utile cum inutilibus mixtum, in which he is thinking of 
the various parts of a lex per saturam. Cf. exactly the same use in 
Codex Just. vii. 6: “‘quapropter imperfecta Latinorum libertas 
incertis vestigiis titubat et quasi per saturam inducta adhuc remanet 
et non inutilis quidem pars eius deminuitur, quod autem ex ipsa 

1 The use of sententits suggested the introduction of a figure from political language. 

2 Naber, following Heindorf, brackets ea—why, I do not know, unless it be through 
a misunderstanding of Fronto’s meaning. The clause means “like those matters 
which are proposed (to a legislative body) ina lump.” Cf. Scholia Bob. cited above: 
‘‘ea quae si per se singulariter proponerentur.”’ 

3 Possibly the use of divisa called to mind the divisio sententiae (cf. Scholia Bob. 
above) and suggested the figurative use of the legal term. 

¢ Judging mechanically from the use of quasi or tamquam, Marx (on Lucil. 48) 
quite wrongly states that the phrase here and in Charisius, Paneg. lat., and Ammianus 
was taken from Sallust. 


rationabile est, hoc in ius perfectum deducitur?” The ius Latinum 
was given to certain classes of freedmen by the lex Junia of 19 a.p. 
Justinian wishes to have the useless part of the law discarded and 
the useful and reasonable retained. Lactantius, i. 21. 13, gives the 
following: ‘Pescennius Festus in libris historiarum per saturam 
refert.”” Here we seem to have a different usage from that just dis- 
cussed; there is no apologetic word and the phrase seems to limit a 
noun (historiarum) and not a verb. Apparently this is in imitation 
of the phrase lex per saturam. So also in the Vita of Boethius, and 
in a MS title of Seneca’s A pocolocyntosis.' 

A closer examination of the phrase per saturam will be of value. 
For the per, one may compare per se, as used, e.g., in the Scholia Bob. 
cited above. Cf. also Pliny Ep. x. 117. This use belongs to the class 
called “‘Art und Weise” by Kiihner.? As the preposition in may be used 
in exactly the same sense (the same class-name is used by Kihner, 
p. 568), it is not surprising that we have found an instance of in saturam 
instead of the usual per saturam. The closest parallel is in plenum 
(plenum=saturum), which in many cases was its successor. Very 
similar are in universum, in omnia, per omnia (note the same variation 
of preposition), in totum (Fr. partout from per totum). Some examples 
will show the close relation of these to our phrase and will throw 
light on its meaning: Pliny N.H. iv. 80: “in plenum quidem... . 
omnes Scytharum gentes . . . . variae tamen tenuere litora ... . 
Daci,” etc. Here variae is opposed to in plenum. In a similar 
passage in Caesar B.G. i. 51 we find (for Pliny’s variae) “generatim 
constituerunt Harudes,” etc. In the passage from Fronto cited 
above, generatim is used as a partial contrast to per saturam. Livy 
ix. 26. 8 reads ‘‘non nominatim [i.e., each by name] sed in universum.”’ 
In universum is in this case partly parallel to per saturam as used 
by Sallust. Jn totum is the opposite of in partem; cf. Quint. iii. 6. 
32. The analogy of these phrases shows that our phrase might have 
been per or in saturum or satura had not a noun satura already existed 
(cf. in partem). 

We come now (viz tandem!) to satura as a literary term. It 
seems likely that this use developed out of the culinary meaning, in 

1See below (p. 193) for these passages. 

2 Lat. Gram., II (2d ed.), 557. 

186 B. L. ULLMAN 

view of the many parallels. Thus we have—and some of these 
have often been pointed out—farsa, olio, olla podrida, mélanges, 
potpourri, and even, in American newspaper English, hash and 
chop-suey. For cooking terms in literature we may compare also 
“macaronic poetry.” 

Let us take up, then, Hendrickson’s main thesis, as outlined at the 
beginning of this article. Wheeler has shown that the absence of the 
word satura from extant writings antedating Horace’s first book of 
satires is easily accounted for, his argument concerning the usage of 
Varro and Cicero being particularly cogent; but with regard to 
Horace he is not so convincing. The elegy of Propertius which he 
cites is not a perfect analogy. Nor does it seem to me that Horace 
avoided the word satura in the fourth satire from any stylistic motive. 
In my judgment, therefore, Hendrickson’s point that the absence of 
the word from the first book of satires needs explanation is well 
taken. I cannot agree, however, with the one that he gives. I pre- 
fer to believe that the word satura did not definitely mean satire 
in the modern sense when Horace wrote his first book of Sermones, 
but still had, for the most part, the meaning of miscellany. It was 
the miscellaneous character of their works that was indicated by the 
title saturae in the case of Ennius, Lucilius, and Varro.2 When 
Horace cast about for a title to the first book of satires his choice 
did not light upon Saturae, chiefly because his poems were not strictly 
miscellanies, as he used only one meter.* So it was that he called 
them Sermones. 

Hendrickson, following Marx, denies that saturae was used as a 
title by Ennius, Lucilius, and Varro. Neither offers any evidence 
for his belief, except that Hendrickson argues against its use by 
Varro. As for Ennius, the strongest evidence in favor of this title 

1 This explanation occurred to me immediately after reading Hendrickson’s article 
and has already been suggested in print by Webb, who does not attempt, however, to 
go into details. 

2 Porphyrio on Horace Fpist. i. 3. 1, classes them together: ‘‘hic Florus scriba fuit 
<et> saturarum scriptor, cuius sunt electae ex Ennio Lucilio Varrone saturae.” 
Quint. x. 1. 95 also classifies Varro with Ennius by implication. 

* See also below, p. 189. It should not be urged in opposition at this point, or 
elsewhere in this paper, that Horace’s satires were miscellanies in content if not in 
form. It should be remembered that form was all-important. From the standpoint 
of content the lyrics of Catullus and Horace, the elegies of Tibullus and Propertius 
are miscellanies. 


is that of Nonius,! who regularly employs the formula “ Ennius 
satyrarum libro I,” ete. It is extremely improbable that Nonius 
here uses satura as a descriptive term, for he quotes the plays of 
Ennius by name, not using the generic “in fabula,” and likewise 
constantly uses the formula “ Ennius annalium libro I,” ete. Non- 
jus’ evidence is supported by that of Gellius and Servius. For 
Lucilius the evidence is stronger. Books i-xxv are cited by Nonius 
under the formula “ Lucilius satyrarum libro I,” etc., Books xxvi-xxx, 
under the formula “ Lucilius libro xxvi,” etc. The difference has been 
explained as arising from the fact that two different individuals 
excerpted Lucilius for Nonius. Whether this be so or not, it is 
highly probable that two manuscripts were used, one of which 
included satyrarum as a part of the title. Of course it will be 
argued that this evidence proves nothing for Lucilius’ usage. True 
—but it creates a strong presumption. Furthermore, saturae was 
clearly the title of Lucilius’ work at least as early as Suetonius, as 
can be seen from the following (De gram. ii): “ut C. Octavius 
Lampadio Naevii Punicum bellum, .. . . ut postea Q. Vargunteius 
annales Ennii, .. .. ut Laelius Archelaus Vettiusque Philocomus 
Lucilii saturas.”’ Saturas is clearly as much a title as Punicum 
bellum and Annales. 

As for Varro, we have strong evidence for the use of the term 
saturae. In a list of Varro’s works found in a letter of Jerome, are 
found the titles Satyrarwm libri and Satyrarum Menippearum libri. 
Hendrickson admits? that the list was based on information derived 
from Varro himself, but believes that the two titles mentioned 
represent the “interpretative classification of a later time.” The 
assumption that Varro’s own titles were changed in this list is 
certainly not justified. Furthermore, we have strong evidence for 
the term saturae Menippeae in Gellius (ii. 18): ‘“‘Menippus cuius 
libros M. Varro in satiris aemulatus est, quas alii cynicas, ipse appellat 
Menippeas.” Hendrickson’s interpretation, by which he aims to 
discredit the title saturae, lacks probability. And even if we 
could admit that this title might be due to later “interpretative 

1 Hendrickson by his silence rejects Nonius’ testimony concerning the titles of 
Ennius and Lucilius, but accepts it for Varro (Class. Phil., VI, 342), an inconsistency 
which he does not explain. 

* Class. Phil.,-VI, 342. 

188 B. L. ULLMAN 

classification,” why was it chosen? From Horace’s time on, satura 
meant satire in our modern sense, almost exclusively. Since Varro’s 
Menippeans were not primarily satirical but miscellaneous,! the title 
saturae would not likely have been given to them after the time of 
Horace. Hendrickson cites Apuleius’ classification of the ‘Greek 
writings of the Cynic Crates of Thebes”’ as satires to illustrate the use 
of the ‘descriptive terminology of his time.” Passing over the fact 
that this is really arguing in a circle, for the reading ‘“‘Crates”’ is an 
emendation for ‘‘Xenocrates” based on the assumption that Apuleius 
meant saturas in the sense of satirical pieces, it is quite evident that 
Apuleius is using generic terms, not titles. There is no comparison 
between this passage on the one hand and the titles in Jerome’s list 
and Gellius’ words on the other. In the latter two we are dealing 
with titles; in Apuleius a title would be out of place.” 

It seems clear, then, that saturae was the title, or part of it, in the 
works of Ennius, Lucilius, and Varro under discussion. We might 
perhaps grant, if strong evidence were presented, that the title of 
one of these works was altered, but that this could have taken place 
in the case of all three is utterly incredible. 

Hendrickson has shown in a most interesting and convincing way 
that there was great enthusiasm for Lucilius in the ten years follow- 
ing 40 s.c. Now Lucilius’ poems were called saturae, “miscellanies,”’ 
but the striking element in them was the satirical—so striking that 
the word satura lost to a large extent its original meaning and took on 
during this period of enthusiasm the new meaning of satire.’ It is 
much easier to suppose that because of the great interest in the 
satirical element of Lucilius’ saturae this title acquired the meaning 
satire than that a new word was evolved out of a phrase “sermones 

1See the words which Cicero (Acad. post. i. 2. 8) puts into Varro’s mouth: ‘in 
illis veteribus nostris, quae Menippum imitati, non interpretati, quadam hilaritate 
conspersimus, multa admixta ex intima philosophia, multa dicta dialectice, quae, 

quo facilius minus docti intelligerent, iucunditate quadam ad legendum invitati.’’ 
Cf. also Vahlen’s Ennius, 2d ed., p. cexv. 

2 As each of Varro’s saturae had its own subtitle, Nonius naturally uses this in 
citation in preference to the comprehensive title of the whole work. 

* Hendrickson, in an earlier article (A.J.P., XV, 29) aptly cites the change in 
meaning of ‘‘epigram.’’ A still closer parallel is the English word “‘essay,’’ used in a 
number of non-literary senses, and as a literary term “originally implying want of finish, 
an irregular undigested piece’? (Murray, Eng. Dict.). The present usage, of a com- 
position of careful style, etc., apparently dates from Montaigne. 


per saturam.”! The tendency which ended in the loss of the meaning 

miscellany and the gain of that of satire probably set in even in 
Lucilius’ day, for it was only his earlier books (xxvi—-xxx) that were 
truly miscellaneous—in various meters—while the later books 
(i-xxi) were all in the hexameter. This tendency met a temporary 
check when Varro, by introducing prose, made his saturae more 
miscellaneous than any others ever had been—and Varro had some 
influence on Horace.? Naturally the Lucilians of Horace’s day tried 
to out-Lucilius Lucilius in the use of the term. Since Horace was 
opposed to them on so many other points, it is not unlikely that he 
was opposed to their term for the genus which he and they were 
cultivating, especially in view of the formlessness which it suggests,® 
and postponed using it until he was practically forced to by popular 
usage. We can perhaps even see traces of his reluctance in the two 
passages of the second book in which he uses the term. In the 
first of these (ii. 1. 1) he is quoting the opinion of those who ignorantly 
class him with Lucilius and the Lucilians (“sunt quibus in satura 
videor nimis acer’). It is their term that he is using. In ii. 6. 17 
(“saturis Musaque pedestri’’) we have in the last two words a 
reminiscence of one of the matters that he and the Lucilians quarreled 
over: Horace maintained that his and Lucilius’ verses were not 
poetry (Serm. i. 4. 39). May we not see a reference to another 
point at issue in the word saturis? Horace would thus imply: 
“Yes, I accept your term satura, but refuse, all the more, to call my 
verses poetry.’’ Elsewhere Horace prefers to call his satires sermones. 

Another line of inquiry furnishes evidence confirmatory of our 
position. If the literary history of the word satura as outlined above 

1 This title was suggested by Marx (Lucilius, p. xiv) without any reason for re- 
jecting saturae, as we have seen, and without any relevant evidence to support his 
suggestion. He cites as a parallel” Aparos év rots xara \errby, whence Vergil’s Cata- 
lepta. The parallel proves too much, for if Lucilius’ poems had been called sermones 
per saturam the later word for satire would have been persaturam. Per is an integral 
part of the phrase. See above, p. 182. 

2 Fritzsche, Horace Serm., pp. 28f. At the same time Lucilian satire influenced 
Varro to some extent. Birt (2 pol. Satiren d. alten Roms, p. 28, n. 1) compares Varro’s 
Bimarcus (53 B), ‘‘et magnae mandonum gulae,’’ with Lucilius (946 Marx): “‘atque 
omnes mandonum gulae.’’ Cf. also the differentiation of poesis and poema, Lucilius 
338 f. Marx; Varro 398 B. 

3 For this very reason, no doubt, Lucilius chose the term satura, as he did schedium 
(see below). This characteristic of Lucilius and the Lucilians was highly offensive to 
Horace, as Serm. i. 4 and i. 10 show. 

190 B. L. ULLMAN 

is correct, if in an earlier stage it meant miscellany and did not 
definitely acquire the meaning of satire in the modern sense until 
the time of Horace, then we should expect that only after it was 
thoroughly established in the language in this sense could it be used 
of “a satire,’ i.e., of one poem. For if it could be shown that Horace 
used the word both in the general sense of satire and in the specific 
one of a single sermo, then the history of the word as just given is 
called into question, since it is unlikely that it would so quickly! 
lose its original meaning that it could be used of a single poem, 
when before that it meant a collection of miscellaneous poems. On 
the other hand, if we find that the use of satura of a single poem 
was introduced at a later period, we have strong circumstantial 
evidence that the above outline is correct. It may be argued that 
Ennius? and Lucilius used satura of a single poem, judging from the 
title saturae—in the plural—indicated by such references as “‘in sexto 
saturarum,” etc. The answer to this is that each book was a satura, 
and Ennius’ work consisted of eight books, Lucilius’ of thirty.* 

Since satura did not at first mean a single poem, we can explain 
the absence of the word from many passages in Lucilius and Horace. 
We find, too, an explanation for the facts that Ingersoll has gathered: 
Lucilius used the word schedium, among others, for the single poems 
of a collection called satura. 

Let us see, then, what the use of our word reveals. The two 
passages in which Horace uses it have already been quoted. In the 
first of these he employs it in the generic sense; in the second, he 
refers vaguely by use of the plural to the two books of satires and 
any others he might publish in the future—as if he had said libris.‘ 
When Horace speaks of a single satire he uses carmen, as in ii. 6. 22, 
or versus, as in ii. 1. 21.5 Lucilius’ word schedium he of course does 
not use at all, for it was even more objectionable than satura. 

1 T.e., between 40 and 30 B.c. ?So Schanz, Rém. Litt., 3d ed., p. 203. 

* Kiessling (Horace Serm. Intro.), compares Statius’ silvxarum libri and Suetonius’ 
pratorum libri. Lejay (Horace Serm., p. ciii) compares Fr. des mélanges (not un 
mélange) and It. miscellanea. The citation of these parallels does not explain the 
usage. The explanation must be essentially the same as that here given for saturae. 

4 Hoelzer, op. cit., p. 5, unnecessarily changes to satura. It is of course possible 
here, and in some of the examples that follow, to take satura to mean a single satire. 
My point is that such an interpretation is not necessary, nor even likely, in view of the 
evidence I present. 

’ The term ecloga applied to the single satires of Horace in the MSS, scholia, and 
elsewhere, probably arose before satura had developed the specific meaning of a single 


The title of Persius’ single book of satires throws an interesting 
light on our problem. The best MS, the famous Montpellier MS 
of Persius and Juvenal (P), starts out with “‘Thebaidorum! Persi 
Satura,” has “Persi satura” at the top of each right-hand page, 
and ends with “explicit Persius Thebaidorum Satura.” This 
alone would be enough to show that the correct title for Persius’ 
book is “satura.” But the MSS belonging to Sabinus’ recension 
point to the same title. The MSS that are considered the best 
representatives of the class (A and B) have “ Persii Flacci satyra? in- 
cipit,” though at the end they have “ Persi Flacci satyrarum explicit 
feliciter.”” It is to be remembered that the use of satura to mean a 
collection of poems would be unfamiliar to most copyists and would 
therefore be exceedingly susceptible to change—as witness our 
modern editors.’ Thus its retention is a warrant of fidelity. Espe- 
cially is this true of P’s copyist, for whom the temptation to change 
would be very great, since the text of Persius is followed by that of 
Juvenal, with its saturarum liber as an “explicit.” The evidence 
then is decisive: Persius called his book “satura,” which indicates 
that in his day satura did not yet mean a single poem, but still 
meant a collection of poems in one book. 

Statius uses the word satura once (Silv. i. 3. 103) and there clearly 
in the generic sense. Quintilian seems to use satura only as the 
generic term (x. 1. 95), or to mean a collection of poems: ix. 2. 36, 
in satura tradit Ennius; ix. 3. 9 (referring to Persius’ collection), 
in satura est. It seems impossible to decide whether Martial used 
satura of a single satire or of a collection (xi. 10.1; xii. 94.7). The 
latter is entirely possible and seems to me very likely in view of the 
facts that will be presented in a moment. 

Juvenal uses the singular in the generic sense three times (i. 30; 
iv. 106; vi. 634), and the plural, either of single poems or of a collec- 

poem. Perhaps this was during the first century a.p., at a time when Statius used the 
term of the single poems in his Silvae. Statius seems to be the first to use it in this 
sense. Varro (apud Char. 120. 28 K) used it in the original sense: ‘“‘eclogas ex 
Annalei descriptas.’’ 

1 It has been suggested that this word crept in from a MS containing both Statius 
and Persius, as one at Paris. 

2 It is interesting to note that P has the better spelling. It is likely that Sabinus 
was responsible for the change to the form current in his day (fifth century). 

* The most recent critical edition, by Leo (4th ed. of Jahn’s Persius and Juvenal, 
1910) follows earlier editions in retaining the title Persi Saturarum liber. 

192 B. L. ULLMAN 

tion, once (iii. 321). The title is of interest. The best MS, P (the 
same as the P of Persius), has no inscription, but at the end of Book i 
has the words: “TIuni Iuvenalis saturarum liber I explicit,” and 

others of Juvenal, is incomplete. The same explicit for Book i is 
found in B, a fragmentary MS, ending at vi. 437, that is cited by 
Leo (4th ed. of Jahn). Thus the title of Juvenal’s five books was 
clearly saturarum libri as against the satura of Persius. 

It is agreed that the book-division of Juvenal as found in the MSS 
goes back to Juvenal himself. Now it happens that the second 
book consists of but one satire, the sixth, the longest of all and fully 
capable of filling a book. It seems not improbable that in this fact 
we have the origin of the usage which we have been investigating— 
the application of the term satura to a single poem. Of course it 
may be argued that this is effect, not cause. But we have seen that 
to Persius satura did not yet have any such force, and we have found 
no example in which it necessarily had it previous to Juvenal’s 
sixth satire. Beginning with Suetonius positive examples of satura 
in reference to one poem are common (De gram. 5): “‘fecitque ... . 
saturam quoque, in qua libertinum se ac duplici cognomine esse per 
haec indicat,” (ibid. 15) “‘Sallustium acerbissima satura laceravit.’’! 

To sum up this portion of the paper, satura was first used to 
mean a collection of miscellaneous poems. In Horace’s time it came 
to be used of a collection of satirical poems and of the genus satire. 
Finally in the time of Juvenal it began to be applied to a single poem 
of satirical nature. 

Let us now turn our attention to several works which were in 
form imitations, more or less close, of Varro’s Menippeans, to see 
whether we may glean any facts of interest from their titles. When 
Seneca wrote his Menippean satire concerning Claudius he did not 
entitle it “satura.” He probably called it Apocolocyntosis, as Dio 
reports. The best MS has: “Divi Claudi apotheosis Annaei 
Senecae per saturam,” which Teuffel suggests was introduced when 
the meaning of the original title became obscure. For Petronius’ 
miscellany of prose and poetry, Buecheler adopts the title saturae, 

1 It is not certain, though probable, that this book was written by Suetonius after 
Juvenal’s sixth satire had been published. 


though some of the MSS give satyricon.! If Petronius used saturae, 
he used it in the Varronian sense.? Hendrickson suggests that 
possibly the phrase per saturam was attached to the titles of Boethius’ 
De consolatione and of the encyclopedia of Martianus Capella, basing 
his suggestion on a sentence in the mediaeval vita of Boethius: “in 
quo [carcere] repositus hos libros per satyram edidit, imitatus vide- 
licet Martianum Felicem Capellam.” Whether this be true or not, it 
is interesting to see that the phrase per saturam is used of two works 
that are in effect Menippean satires, just as it was used of Seneca’s 
skit. Pescennius Festus’ libri historiarum per saturam (Lact. Inst. 
i. 21. 18) were perhaps of the same sort. Thus the evidence would 
seem to indicate that the term libri per saturam came into use in the 
third century as a designation for Menippean satires. This was only 
to be expected, for after Juvenal’s time satura would hardly be used 
as a title in the Varronian sense. Yet the feeling for the etymological 
force never died out. For example, it had some influence on Juvenal. 
When in i. 86 he says : “nostri farrago libelli est,” he is thinking of 
the literal meaning of satura, as defined by Varro. 

The idea of miscellany is present in the work of Martianus Capella 
also—in fact he manages to convey to us almost as much about the 
history of the word satura in his incidental verse as Diomedes in his 
grammatical treatise. We must pay a tribute to him for having 
succeeded in disguising his information so well that modern scholars 
have not discovered it! Particularly striking are verses ix. 997. ff. 

Habes senilem Martiane fabulam 

miscilla lusit quam lucernis flamine 

haec quippe loquax docta indoctis adgerans 
fandis tacenda farcinat, immiscuit 

musas deosque .... 

haec ipsa nauci rupta conscientia 
turgensque felle ac bile... . 

1 Marx (Lucil., p. x) believes that the word satyricus did not come into use until 
the third century. The word does not occur until that time, if we reject the testi- 
mony of the several Petronius MSS. 

2 Did Petronius perhaps publish, or at least begin, his saturae before Persius’ 
satura was published? If so, he would feel justified in using the title, since the last 
previous writer of importance to use it was Varro, whom Petronius was imitating in 

194 B. L. ULLMAN 

Note the allusion to Varro’s etymology of a genus farciminis' in 
“farcinat”’; the miscellaneous character is shown in “miscilla”’ 
and “immiscuit,” the satirical element in “felle ac bile.’”? 

The results of this investigation, then, are as follows: the word 
satura is an independent noun, originally used as a neuter plural adjec- 
tive. Its first meaning probably was “‘filling,’”’ from which all the 
other meanings seem to be derived. The phrase “per saturam”’ was 
properly a political term, and out of it arose the combination “lex 
per saturam,”’ which we have restored in a line of Lucilius, thus giving 
the latter a new interpretation. Satura, too, was used of an omnibus 
law. When per saturam is found in a non-political context there is 
always evidence that its use was regarded as figurative. We have 
dissected the phrase and compared it with others, thereby gaining a 
clearer notion of its meaning. As a literary term, we have concluded 
that satura did not lose its early meaning of medley and take on the 
meaning satire until the time of Horace, and that its application to a 
single poem began after the time of Persius, perhaps in Juvenal’s 
day. In the third century “libri per saturam”’ seems to have come 
into use to supply the need of a term meaning medley.® 


1 Since Martianus made extensive use of Varro (Eyssenhardt’s edition, pp. xxxii f.) 
and apparently none of Suetonius or Diomedes, it is very likely that in using the 
strange word farcinat he is alluding directly to Varro’s definition. Thus we have an 
independent witness for it—an item of importance in view of the skepticism dis- 
played towards Diomedes’ statement. The fact, too, that Martianus introduces the 
various ideas about satura into his apparent imitation of Varro’s Menippeans may 
indicate that Webb is right in supposing that Varro spoke of the origin of satire in his 
Menippeans. In this connection a comparison of Martianus’ work with the fragments 
of the Menippeans might prove of interest. 

2 Note, too, vi. 576, “lepidula . . . . Satura iocabunda’”’; viii. 807, ‘tam tristi- 
bus asperisque Saturae alioquin lepidulae verberibus demulcatus,” etc. 

*It was the original intention to publish as a part of this paper a discussion, 
already written, of the so-called dramatic satura, based largely on the famous passage 
in Livy vii. 2. The unexpected length to which the present paper has grown makes 
it advisable to postpone such a discussion for the time being. 

I. dxpnrov ydXa, c 297 

The brutal Cyclops has just devoured two of Odysseus’ com- 
panions for his evening meal. Then “we wept and lifted up our 
hands to Zeus at sight of these dread deeds, and helpless fear gat 
hold of our hearts. But when the Cyclops had filled his huge maw, 
devouring the flesh of men and drinking thereafter unmixed milk, 
he lay down within the cave stretched out among the sheep.”” The 
attentive reader must surely be struck by the curious phrase 
“unmixed milk” (d«pnrov yada). The text is perfectly sound; 
there is not a single MS variant, and an old scholium guarantees the 
antiquity of the reading. The translators in different languages 
vary in turning the word either with “ pure’ or “unmixed,” Messrs. 
Butcher and Lang discreetly omitting the word entirely. The com- 
mentators leave us almost entirely in the lurch, only a few deigning 
to note the word and they shedding no real light on its meaning. 
An exception must be made, however, in favor of our oldest com- 
mentator, the source of the scholiast of MS H, but here a corrupt 
and misunderstood text has stood in the way of the exact interpre- 
tation of this passage, as I shall show at the end of this paper. 

It will be convenient to consider such chance opinions as I have 
been able to find on this subject in their chronological order. W. 
Dindorf, in the revised Thesaurus, collects passages where dxpnroy is 
used of water, and then cites our verse with the observation that 
this is an instance of katachresis. If this be true of Homer,’ the 
same must be said of similar usages in Sophron, Antipater of Sidon, 
and Dio Cassius, and so much misuse of a word among good authors 
is surprising. In employing a word like “unmixed,” you naturally 
imply that the substance you are speaking of is frequently mixed 
with other things, e.g., unmixed wine is wine without the common 

1 Of course ‘‘pure”’ in a literal sense the milk could not have been. In the sense 
of ‘‘mere,”’ it is pointless. 

2TI take dxjparov in 2 303 (dxjfparov tiwp) as only a doublet of dxpnrov. 
[CLAssIcaAL Patio.oey VIII, April, 1913] 195 


admixture of water, unmixed water is water without the admixture 
of salt, mud, sand, alkali, ete. Therefore, unmixed milk should be 
milk which has not been mixed with that substance with which, under 
the circumstances, you might have expected it to be mixed. It is 
more appropriate to look for that substance than to assume faulty 

To K. F. Ameis in a note on this passage is due an explanation 
which has imposed on Buchholz,! La Roche,? and even on such a 
scholar as O. Hentze In his own words: ‘Die miassigen Griechen 
tranken auch die fette Milch meist mit Wasser gemischt wie den 
Wein,” to which La Roche adds that for the Cyclops to drink his 
milk axpnroy, i.e., “straight,” was “auch ein Zeichen der Unmissig- 
keit.”” For this bit of Scholiastenweisheit no authorities are adduced, 
or, perhaps, adduceable. Instances of adulteration of milk with water 
are not unheard of, but they are generally induced by commercial 
motives rather than by those of temperance. Despite a few known 
cases of watering milk for one’s own consumption‘, the Cyclops 
was, nevertheless, perhaps the last person in the world of Homeric 
figures of whom one might have expected such refinement in matters 
of food and drink as to make it a significant fact that he drank even 
his milk “straight.”” Not to mention other evidence that his tastes 
were not in all respects very finical, it will perhaps be sufficient to 
observe that the evening meal in question was a couple of raw human 
beings whom he grasped and “hurled to the ground like puppies, and 
their brains oozed out and soaked the earth. And he cut them up 
and made ready his meal, and devoured them like a mountain-bred 
lion, the entrails, the meat, and the marrowy bones, and left nothing!” 

Professors Perrin and Seymour in their edition (Boston, 1897, ad 

1 Die homerischen Realien, II, 1, Leipzig, 1881, p. 150. 

2 Ed. Wien, 1892, ad loc. 

3In the 9th ed., Leipzig, 1895, ad loc. 

‘Dr. J. D. Fitzgerald calls my attention to the fact that occasionally in the Midi 
and in Spain milk is diluted with water before drinking. I can find no evidence of 
such a custom among modern Greek peasants; indeed, the widespread habit of com- 
pelling the milkman to do his milking in the presence of the purchaser in order to 
guard against diluting the milk (cf. George Horton, Modern Athens, New York, 1901, 
pp. 40 f.) implies that the Greek does not care to purchase, at least, the combination of 
milk and water. As no books on Modern Greece which I have seen mention the 
habit, and none of my friends who have spent several years in the country have 
observed it, I judge that it cannot be a widespread custom, even if it exists at all. 


loc.) observe that the epithet is “half-humorous ... . from the 
custom of diluting wine.” I am inclined to challenge even the 
“half-humorous” in this connection. To be sure, there is much 
humor in Homer, more than is commonly recognized perhaps, and 
especially in the Cyclopeia, though even here mainly toward the 
end, where the witty trick of Odysseus is succeeding, or about to 
succeed, and the situation is less tense. But here humor, even half- 
humor, were obviously out of place. Few passages in ancient 
literature are more realistically horrible than this, the monster at 
his loathsome feast, the wretched survivors cowering in the recesses 
of the cave and raising their hands to Zeus in anguish and despair. 
It is incredible that in the midst of this Homer would perpetrate a 
silly pun in the feeblest style of Charles Lamb. 

To an American sociologist, Dr. Keller,) we owe the latest 
explanation I have seen. He observes that the epithet here (together 
with some quite inconsequential praise of the abundance of pastoral 
products in Libya) “seems to point to a scarcity of the article 
{namely milk] in Greece.” This remark implies not only that milk 
was positively scarce in Greece, but also that when milk is scarce 
people who live upon it add water so as to increase its bulk for their 
own consumption. Now there is very little that could be accepted 
as evidence for the first point, i.e., that the pastoral population of 
Heroic times suffered from a permanent shortage in milk supply,” 
and I know of none at all for the second. 

Yet another explanation, which surprisingly enough seems never 
to have been offered, would be that we have here a misplaced stereo- 
typed epithet of the type of the “starry heavens.” To this we 
answer that the combination d«pnrov yadda occurs nowhere else in 
extant Greek literature and so could never have been a stereotyped 
formula, and even in connection with wine, axpyntov was so seldom 
used that it could not possibly owe its presence here to an inept 
intrusion from a memory well stored with verse tags. Even at that, 
however, this would be a better explanation than any of the preceding. 

1 Homeric Society, New York, 1902, p. 47. The second edition I have not been 
able to consult. 

2 Compare the famous simile, II 641 ff., of the spring time when the white milk 
wets the pails; and certainly the 10,000 ewes which are being milked in the court of 
a rich man (A 433 ff.) are, despite the obvious exaggeration, suggestive of abundance. 


But we do not need it. As suggested above, all we have to do 
is to find some substance with which the milk in this particular 
connection might very naturally have been mixed. To do so we 
shall have to look only a little away from this very passage. The 
first thing the thrifty Odysseus observed on entering the cave was 
the large number of willow baskets that were heavy with cheese 
(vs. 219), and a little later on he describes a portion of the Cyclops’ 
evening chores in these words: ‘‘Then he sat down and milked the 
ewes and bleating goats all orderly, and beneath each ewe he placed 
her young, and anon he curdled [literally “he treated’4] one-half of 
the white milk and massed it together and stored it in wicker baskets, 
and the other half he let stand in pails, that he might have it to 
drink against supper time’’ (Butcher and Lang). You will observe 
that it is the fresh milk which he curdles, a process which must there- 
fore have been accomplished by artificial means, and this curdled 
milk is then put into wicker baskets for the whey to drain off—as 
nowadays a bit of cloth (called cheese-cloth for that reason) is used 
in making cottage cheese. This process was preparatory to pressing 
it firmly together into the large and solid cheese cakes at some later 
occasion. We have already observed that the milk was artificially 
curdled, but how? At present rennet is regularly used for this pur- 
pose, and such use of rennet was known to the Greeks also, but that 
was not the earliest process employed, nor the commonest. Origi- 
nally they extracted the juice of the wild fig tree, dmds they called it, 
and stirred a few drops of it into a bucket of milk, which then coagu- 
lated with great rapidity. Aristotle in several passages describes 
and tries to explain the process (see the index of Bonitz, s.v.), and 
references to it are frequent in the lexicographers.: Empedocles? 
described his world-constructing force of ¢cA/a under the figure of 
the ozres, “which bolts and binds the white milk.” But, more to the 
point, Homer was himself perfectly familiar with the process. In 
the Iliad (E 902 ff.) the physician-god Paieon heals Ares by rub- 
bing ointments over the wound, and then: “Even as fig juice 

1 Apoll. Soph. Lez. Hom. 122, 3: émés* 7d r&v dévipwv Sdxpvoy ... . eldicds 
uévrot “Ounpos older dwrdv ruva Aeyouevov ws Srav héyy xTA; Hesych. s.v. rurlwy (MSS) is 
inaccurate in speaking of it as Bordyn tis, &:’ of wiyyyurac 7d yadda; Suidas (s.v.), 7d 
droord\ayua Tod ydXaxros, and s.v. ruria: 6 drds 6 rupedwy 7d yadda, Compare further 
especially Dioskorides I, 184 (copied by Pliny 23, 7) and Varro, R.R. 2, 11. 

2 Frg. 33 Diels? ap. Plut. Mor. 95a. 


[o7rds'] maketh haste to thicken white milk, that is liquid but curdleth 
speedily as a man stirreth, even so swiftly healed he impetuous Ares”’ 
(Lang, Leaf and Myers). The “unmixed milk” is now perfectly 
plain. The Cyclops had stirred a few drops of dds into half of his 
milk in order to curdle it for making cheese; the rest of his milk he 
left as it was for drinking purposes, i.e., he did not mix in any of the 
coagulating juice; it was therefore, properly speaking, the ‘‘ unmixed 
milk’’ which he drank later on, after supper. We might have called 
it the “sweet,” or the “straight,” or “ordinary” milk, but it was 
strictly and literally “unmixed,’”’ exactly what the poet called it 
without any danger of being misunderstood by his audience, ruder 
perhaps, but in this detail at least more sophisticated than some of 
his later commentators. Some, I say, for I believe the source of the 
scholium in H had the correct idea. At present (in Dindorf’s ed.) 
it reads thus: drepimyés éyov nai doppades Kal rd Tupddes Kal TO 
édai@des. This is obviously corrupt, even for scholiastic Greek. We 
should read azrepimuyés + Exov kal <7d> oppades err, and this read- 
ing is substantiated by the form which originally the same note takes 
in Eustathios (1630, 39, ad loc.): dxpnrov Sé yadda reyes ev @ eorw 

éru TO Tup@des Kal TO EXaLBdes Kal Td op@des, which means “unmixed 
milk is that which still contains the element of cheese [the curds], 
that of oil [the butter, or cream] and that of whey,” in other words, 
milk which contains its three most obvious parts as yet unseparated 
either by standing (for the cream), or by curdling for the separation 
of curds and whey.? 

1 As a lexicographical note might be added the following: érés=rennet as the 
curdler par excellence. Schol. B on E902: 6 dé dds 4 wapd rots liuéras Neyouern 
mirba* Enor dé Aéyouet Tov dd TS cbKwy drby* Bérriov dé 7d rpSrov; and Eusth. ad loc., 
619, 41: xuplws drds kadetrat } Tov TUpdy cumMHrrovea muerla . .. . TH Tis 5é wadady 
onow’ érds } wutla . ... obviously, as the quotation shows, a usage very much 
older than the time of even Schol. B. This is perhaps what Dindorf had in mind 
in the Thes. s.v. rurla with the observation: ‘“‘alio nomine érés dictum kar’ éfox Hv,” 
but he has not expressed himself with perfect clearness. 

The byform miréa for rurla for rverfa, rennet. See Theophrastos, Hist. Plant., 
9, 11, 3, @wxns mirdg, and frg. 125 (Phot. Bibl. 278, 8), ) piwxn tenet Thy mervav; 
Schol. B on E 902 (above). It is also a variant reading in Aristotle rep @avyas. dxovop. 
77 (835b, 31), which is a close parallel to the passages from Theophrastos, and again 
in rept {wy yer. 1, 20, 18 (729a, 12). Compare further Hesych. wiria, changed by 
Schmidt to wurla, and Schneider’s Theophrastos (Leipzig, 1821), V, 480. 

ad 2 Much interesting material regarding the names for milk and the value set upon 
it in. Indo-Germanic times is contained in Hermann Brunnhofer’s interesting mono- 
graph: I'dda, Lac, der graeco-italische Name der Milch, Aarau, 1871. 


II. xoupidi0s ddoyos A 114 et passim 

Very different is the question concerning the significance of 
xoupidios, an adjective occurring frequently in Homer! in agree- 
ment with words referring to the marriage relation, and but rarely 
elsewhere.? One is here embarrassed by the multitude of counselors. 
The true etymology and the original significance of the word were 
in dispute already in antiquity, and frequent have been the discus- 
sions in modern times.’ It would take many pages to enumerate 
the different explanations that have been offered and to point out 
their shortcomings in detail, so I shall merely state my own opinion 
and then give the arguments for it at some length, not because it is 
an entirely new view, but because no elaborate attempt has yet 
been made to demonstrate the correctness of it. 

I feel certain that the adjective is derived from xodpos or xovpn, 
xépn to which the suffix -/8cos (originally doubtless -¢/Svos; cf. Brug- 
mann’s discussion cited in note 3, below) has been added, as viudn, 
vupdldios, etc., and that the primary significance is “of or pertaining 
to youth,” either male or female, in the widest sense. At the same 
time the word in Homer, frequently at least,‘ means “of or pertaining 

to formal marriage,” and universally bears this meaning in the later 
literature. The difficulty of squaring these two facts has called out 
several very different etymologies, no one of which, however, can be 
considered plausible. The derivation from «xodpos, “youth,” is certain 
for the following reasons: (1) it is so obvious that if any reasonable 
explanation can be given it must be accepted, and this explanation 
can in my opinion be furnished; (2) it is the derivation which the 

1It is used with ddoxos, A 114, H 392, A 243, N 626, T 298, & 245, 0 356; mwéers, 
E 414, 430, y 150, w 200; dvjp, r 266, w 196; yur}, » 45; pldos, 0 22; Saya, 7 580 
(= 78); Aéxos O 40. 

2 The best survey of the usage is in L. Meyer, Handbuch der griechischen Etymologie, 
II (Leipzig, 1901), 386 f. 

3 The earlier literature is best summed up in Ebeling’s Lezicon, s.v. I add the 
most important contributions with which I am familiar since the date of that publi- 
cation: W. Schulze, Quaest. Epic., Giitersloh, 1892, p. 85, n. 2; W. Prellwitz, Bezz- 
Beitr. XIX (1893), 318, n. 1; L. Meyer, loc. cit.; A. Bezzenberger, Bezz. Beitr. XX VII 
(1902), 170; K. Brugmann, Indog. Forsch. XVI (1904), 492; W. Prellwitz, Etymol. 
Worterb. d. griech. Sprache? Gottingen, 1905, p. 240; Emile Boisacq, Dictionnaire 
étymologique de la langue grecque, Heidelberg and Paris, 1911, pp. 503f.; Zubaty, 
Listy filologické, 31 (1904), 409-19, has not been accessible. 

4See below at the end. 


Greeks generally gave; and (3)—a point which has never been noted 
but seems quite conclusive—as a cult-epithet of Apollo (who had 
nothing specifically to do with marriage), the original significance “‘of 
or pertaining to youth” is maintained.' Considering the extreme 
tenacity of cult-titles and appellations, this usage unmistakably points 
to a time when xovpidios was commonly recognized to mean that 
which on its face it should. Apollo was a god of youth and youths 
under this name, and any other interpretation of it is impossible. 

In order to explain the postulated development and restriction 
of meaning it is necessary to look a little outside Homer for a better 
understanding of the conditions obtaining in primitive marriage. 
Aristarchos’ principle, “Ounpov é& ‘Ounpov cadnvifav, was needed 
at his time, and always will be, in order to guard against confusing 
ideas and attitudes of mind that belong to quite different levels of 
culture, and not a little modern criticism, as well as a very great deal 
of what the ancients did, is useless for this very reason. But to 
compare Homer with the same general stage of culture as his own, 
a stage which, in externals at least, has been reached pretty much 
over the whole world, and on points where he is reticent or obscure 
(as, for example, precisely in this matter of the marriage relation) 
to contrast the well-understood conditions which have prevailed in 
similar civilizations, past and present, is not only justifiable, but 
necessary, if we wish to understand the little which the poet actually 
does tell us. 

Now among polygamous peoples, who, in general, are at about the 
same level of culture regarding the social status of women as Homer, 
we find marriage primarily an economic institution, rarely and then 

1 For Apollo xovpléios see Hesych. s.v., and especially at Amyklai and Sparta 2.0. 
xuvvaxlas; Sosibios (F.H.G., II, 627, 11); cf. Libanios II, p. 371 M, etc. That this 
Apollo was rerpdxep and rerpdwros has no apparent significance for the name 
xouptdwos, cf. Wernicke in Pauly-Wissowa II, Sp. 70, 31 ff. The function referred to 
in this name is evidently the same as that meant by xovdpeos (at Teos, B.C.H., 1880, 
p. 168), xouporpépos (schol. on Odyssey 7 86; Eusth. J/., 1293, 3, and Od., 1856, 33), 
etc., as Apollo was to a striking degree the god of young persons (see the latest very 
excellent discussion of this point in Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, V, 1907, 148, 
and the references, pp. 371f.). Athene was also closely related to Apollo in this 
aspect as she too was one of the Geol xovporpdgo (cf. Farnell I, 1896, p. 328, and 
Gruppe, Griech. Mythol. u. Religionsgeschichte, pp. 1205 f.). Compare her titles copia 
(Paus., 8, 21, 3) and xopnola (Steph. Byz. s.v. xépcov), and for the close connection 

between Apollo and Athene in this aspect, the dissertation of C. Bruchmann, De 
Apolline et Minerva deis medicis, Breslau, 1885, p. 37 (not 36 as Gruppe cites it). 


mainly by accident illumined by that romantic halo which we con- 
ventionally assume for it. A woman represents among the poor 
either so much labor-power, like an ox or a mule, and so is carefully 
bargained for, or else, as among the rich and powerful, she brings in, 
by cementing friendly relations with influential folk, such prestige, 
power, or wealth, that the most elaborate covenants and contracts 
are drawn up between her past and her future owners. Indeed, so 
prosaic a thing is marriage to the vast majority of the human race, 
past and present, that a wedding without first buying up the bride 
and her parents, or else bribing the husband and his relatives, is 
difficult to imagine. Now this purpose of strengthening the hus- 
band’s family by an accession of labor-power, capital, or prestige, 
being the dominant motive for marriage, it naturally follows that 
there is everywhere felt a strong inclination toward early marriage, 
while the son is yet a member of his father’s house. Benziger' gives 
a vivid description of how among the fellaheen of the Turkish empire 
the marriage is completely arranged for in all its business details by 
the parents of the prospective bride and groom (who are always in 
their early teens when not even younger), and how the son and his 
young and vigorous wife remain under the parental roof and help to 
maintain the establishment. It is stated of the Basutos of South 
Africa, that “the choice of the great wife [i.e., the first wife] is gen- 
erally made by the father, and all the relations are interested,” while 
the later wives are significantly called “the heels,” and the father is 
not expected to contribute to their support.2 Similarly Hagar sees 
to getting an Egyptian wife for Ishmael (Gen. 21:21), Abraham feels 
the responsibility of securing a wife for Isaac (Gen., chap. 34), and 
even the footloose and unconventional Samson came to his father 
and mother and said» ‘‘I have seen a woman in Timnath of the 

1 Hebraische Archdologie (1894), pp. 138 ff. Cf. also W. Nowack, Lehrbuch der 
hebraischen Archdologie, I, 156 ff., Baldensperger’s ‘‘Woman in the East,’’ Palestine 
Explor. Fund, Quart. Statement, 1899, 1900, 1901, and the most systematic and detailed 
discussion by Thad. Engert, Ehe- und Familienrecht der Hebrader, Minchen, 1905, 
pp. 40 f., as well as A. S. Cook, The Laws of Moses and the Code of Hammurabi, London, 
1903, pp. 74f., for similar customs in ancient Israel, Arabia, and Babylonia. The 
elaborate care with which all the details of a marriage among the powerful in early 
Canaan were agreed upon beforehand is excellently illustrated in the Tel-el-Amarna 
Letters, Nos. 17, 21, and 23. 

2 Westermarck in the work cited below, p. 446. 


daughters of the Philistines; now therefore get her for me to wife” 
(Judg. 14:2)!; or, to take an example from Homer, Achilles repudi- 
ates the offer of one of Agamemnon’s daughters in marriage with the 
remark: “If the gods save me and I reach home, then will Peleus 
hunt me out a wife himself” (I, 393f.). These are only typical 
cases whose number might have been multiplied indefinitely from 
the world-wide prevalence of the custom. Such being the economic 
basis of marriage in primitive conditions, one can easily understand 
the temptation toward child-marriage, which has been, and is, very 
widespread, not only in Islam and India, but among Semites, Africans, 
Australians, etc. Where the economic feature of marriage is espe- 
cially prominent, the head of the household, who is socially respon- 
sible for the support of his family, naturally seeks to get all the 
advantages he can from the wedding of a son or a daughter, so that 
marriage in the tenderest state of infancy is frequent enough, and 
betrothals of the yet unborn not unknown.? 

The first wife is therefore among all polygamous peoples married 
in comparative youth, her selection is made with all the care and 
forethought that an interested kinship can bestow upon the cement- 
ing of a lasting relation, and of course the best and sharpest bargain 
is driven. By virtue of the dowry she brings with her, or because 
of the total loss of the bridegift if she be divorced (not to speak of 
the offense that would be given her kin and the weakening in capital 
or labor-power that would result to her husband’s house), the first 
wife is strongly fortified in her position by permanent economic 
considerations of a very substantial sort. Being thus carefully 
chosen, there can never be any doubt of the perfect propriety and 
legitimacy of this marriage, and of course under normal conditions 

1If Samson’s marriage was, as has been very plausibly suggested, originally of 
the mot'a type, it is especially significant that the redactor, in trying to make an 
older tale agree with the regular conventions of his time, chooses just this circum- 
stance as characteristic of the typical Hebrew marriage. 

2 It may not be commonly known that child-marriages took place in England even 
as late as the times of Queen Elizabeth. The depositions that were taken in the 
Bishops’ Court of the diocese of Chester in the trial of certain of these cases during 
the years 1561-66 have been edited by Mr. Furnivall for the Early English Text 
Society (1897), and make very surprising reading. In 1564 a witness deposes con- 
cerning the marriage of John Somerforth, aged three, to Jane Brerton, aged two, and 
we can readily believe another witness who testified that “it was the youngest Marriage 
that cuer he was at.” 


the first wife becomes the mother of the cherished firstborn son. It 
is therefore inevitable that the first wife should tend strongly to 
occupy a leading position in the household, no matter how many 
legal wives or concubines' may succeed her, and this is indeed 
the case, except under very unusual circumstances, as for example, 
when the husband materially improves his social status after the 
first marriage, when the first wife remains childless, or when her 
family becomes humiliated or ruined. Now this primacy of the first 
wife is an actual fact among practically all polygamous peoples, past 
or present. I have tried to classify the peoples and religions among 
which this custom prevails, and while all the details are wearisome 
the general outlook is most significant.2 The first wife holds the 
position of primacy and precedence which I have mentioned, of 
course with numerous inconsequential variations under different 
local conditions, among the Greenlanders, Alaskans (especially the 
Tlinglits), Aleutians, Indians of the Northwest coast, Californian 
Indians, Crees, Sioux, Omahas, and Algonquins, the Mormons, the 
Mexicans, Central and South American tribes, especially those of 
Western Brazil, the Samoans, Tahitans, Ainos, Kamtschatkans, 
Mongols, Chinese, Siamese, Burmese, the inhabitants of the East 
Indian Archipelago, the Kalmucks, Central Asiatic Turks, the tribes 
of East and South Africa, especially the Zulus, the natives of Mada- 
gascar, and throughout the whole of Islam; from earlier times, 
among the pagan Prussians, the pagan Russians, the Egyptians,’ the 

* For the purposes of our argument it is unnecessary to distinguish sharply between 
‘“‘polygamy” as the possession of several regular wives, and ‘‘juridic monogamy,” 

where all wives but the first are really concubines. I use ‘‘polygamy”’ in its general, 
non-technical sense. 

2 For the detailed citation of the authorities in each individual case one may refer 
to E. Westermarck, The History of Human Marriage, London, 1894, pp. 443-48; 
G. E. Howard, History of Matrimonial Institutions, Chicago, 1904, I, 143f.; J. G. 
Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy, London, 1910, p. 277 and p. 576. 

?Thus the Pharaoh added the name of only one wife on his inscriptions, and 
among the common people ‘‘a man possessed but one legal wife who was the mother 
of his heirs’’ (Breasted, A History of Egypt, New York, 1905, p. 85), though he might 
have a harem and concubines ad libitum. This wife was called ‘‘the dear wife,” ‘‘the 
lady of the house.”” Regular bigamy was rare, though Erman (Life in Ancient Egypt, 
tr. Tirard, London, 1894, p. 152) cites occasional instances from the Pharaohs on down 
to the thieves of the royal tombs. The case of Cheuemhotep is interesting: Chety is 
his ‘‘ beloved wife,’”’ ‘‘the lady of the house,” and likewise the heiress to the Jackal 
nome which her son inherits, yet Tatet, doubtless his real favorite, is also called his 


old Persians,' the Parthians,? and the same conditions prevailed in 
Chaldea in the twenty-second century B.c., as evidenced by the 
great code of Hammurabi.’ Very significant is the case in Islam. 
Despite the fact that Mahomet attempted to guarantee the complete 
legal and social equality of the four regular wives allowed the Moslem, 
there has everywhere, out of the economic conditions referred to 
above, grown up the custom which makes the first wife “the great 
lady,”’ before whom the other wives, despite their recognized legal 
position, and despite any preference that the husband may have for 
any one of them, because of youth, beauty, or other advantages, 
take an inferior position, and to whom they frequently act in the 
réle of servants. Anyone who has lived in Moslem countries remem- 
bers the pomp and circumstance which attend the first and formal 
wedding, the ceremonies lasting frequently for several days, while a 
second, or third, or fourth wife is generally taken in so quiet a fashion, 
that it is frequently only by the outbreak of those noises and scenes 
peculiar to feminine combats that even the immediate neighborhood 
is apprised of a fresh matrimonial venture. So frequently, as among 
the modern Turkish fellaheen and the ancient Hebrews, the first 
wife is of equal social station with the husband, whereas the subse- 
quent wives may or may not be, according to circumstances. 

wife, and occupies with her children a place on the inscription behind Chety and her 
heirs. The precedence which the heiress obtains is thus typically expressed here. 
A peculiar Egyptian form of marriage by which an heiress might take a husband on 
contract and dismiss him later at pleasure with some pecuniary compensation (cf. 
Spiegelberg, Schriften d. wiss. Gesellschaft in Strassburg, I, 1907) may have helped 
a little in securing a somewhat superior position for woman in general. It finds a 
close parallel in the contract marriage of pre-Islamitic Arabia, in which various stipu- 
lations (generally against a second wife) might be made by the woman. See J. Well- 
hausen, ‘‘Die Ehe bei den Arabern,’’ Nachr. d. kgl. Ges. d. Wiss. zu Géttingen, 1893, 
pp. 466 f. 

1The Persian king had four regular wives, but only one queen, who was legally, 
at least, mistress over all the rest, and this same situation doubtless recurred among 
the nobility, who likewise had several wives. Cf. G. Rawlinson, The Five Great 
Monarchies of the Ancient World, III, 216 ff., London, 1871, and for details, Fr. Spiegel, 
Eranische Altertumskunde, III, pp. 677 ff., Leipzig, 1878. Strange to say, the new 
Grundriss der Iranischen Philologie seems nowhere to mention this phase of the subject. 

2G. Rawlinson, The Sixth Gt. Orient. Mon., London, 1873, p. 423. 

3 See paragraphs 140 ff. and 170 of the Code, and Cook’s excellent discussion of 

these details, contrasting them with the Hebrew usage, op. cit., pp. 110 ff. It may be 

remarked that these paragraphs of the Code are in accord with other early Babylonian 
legal documents. 


Now this Homeric word «oupédvos is peculiarly appropriate as a 
designation of the first bride, the one taken in her own and her 
husband’s youth, that is to say, she is “the bride of youth.”” For we 
know that the old patriarchal family was the prevailing institution 
in the Homeric age. The sons brought their wives to the father’s 
house, where each had his special apartment, though an especially 
favored son might have a separate house, as Hector and Paris in 
Ilion. So the family of Nestor, of Aiolos, of Alkinoos, of Laertes 
(where Odysseus builds his own bridal chamber onto his father’s 
house), and especially the house of Priam, which must have looked 
like a fair-sized village settlement—a state within the state. I need 
not here rehearse details of bargaining for a bride in Homer, as they 
are familiar to all. The name given to maidens, rdpOevor adqeci- 
Sova, meaning ‘those who bring in possessions of cattle,” epito- 
mizes conveniently Homeric usage.! A typical case, too, is the 
formal proposal of marriage to one of his daughters, with detailed 
specification of the gifts that go with her, which Agamemnon makes 
to the offended Achilles (I, 141 ff.). In a word, the economic con- 
ditions prevailing in Homer in the general feature of the marriage 
relation are quite those of the polygamous peoples we have mentioned. 
More than that, we can parallel even the expression. Three times 
in later Hebrew literature the very same idea occurs: Prov. 5:18, 
“Let thy fountain be blessed, and rejoice in the wife of thy youth’; 
Mal. 2:14, “The Lord hath been a witness between thee and the 
wife of thy youth against whom thou hast dealt treacherously,” and 
vs. 15, “Therefore take heed to your spirit and let none deal treacher- 
ously against the wife of his youth”; and Trito-Isaiah 54:6, ‘“‘For the 
Lord hath called thee as a wife forsaken and grieved in spirit, even 
as a wife of youth when she is cast off, saith thy God.’? Now it is 
impossible to fail to observe here a distinct preference felt for the 

1Cf. G. Murray’s interesting remarks 4 propos of these names in -fo.a, The Rise 
of the Greek Epic, 2 (i.e. 2d ed.) London, 1911, p. 186. 

2Cf. Jer. 3:4, where, in speaking of Jahve as the spouse of Judah, the prophet 
calls him ‘‘the guide [or companion] of my youth,” i.e., the regular, legal husband of 
first marriage. See Robertson Smith, Kinship and Marriage in Early Arabia, Cam- 
bridge, 1885, p. 118. A striking parallel to this more tender sentiment toward the wife 
of one’s youth appears in the Leyden papyrus No. 371 (of a late period), where a 
widower in pathetic address to his dead wife cries, ‘‘thou didst become my wife when 
I was young, and I was with thee ” (Erman, l.c.) 


first wife, that “of thy youth,” divorce or even neglect of whom 
seemed a much more heinous sin than similar ill-treatment of another 
wife, and such expressions presuppose a well-developed recognition 
of the social precedence of the first wife, however little this may have 
been embodied in actual law—precisely as we have seen in the case 
in Islam. Nevertheless, there is evidence from extremely ancient 
times of the preferential position of the first wife and her offspring. 
Thus in the most primitive scheme of social differentiation between 
Bedouin tribes (Gen. 4:19 ff.), the sons of Adah, Lamech’s first wife, 
are those that dwell in tents and have possession of cattle, together 
with the musicians (like the Homeric, while the children of 
Zillah, the second wife, were Tubal-Cain, the ancestor of the black- 
smiths (an inferior caste among the Bedouin to this day), and 
Naamah, “the lovely,” very probably the ancestress of the prosti- 
tutes, as Ed. Meyer suggests. See his illuminating discussion of this 
passage in Die Isrealiten und thre Nachbarstamme, Halle, 1896, p. 218. 
In fact, Meyer has no hesitation in classing Hebrew and old Sumerian 
and Akkadian customs together, asserting flatly that there were only 
the Hauptfrau and Nebenfrauen along with Kebsweiber among all these 
peoples. See his Geschichte des Alterthums, I, 2, paragraph 422. 
Bigamy was of course the common rule among the Hebrews, and 
Ezekiel speaks without any constraint of Jahve and his two wives, 
Aholah and Aholibah, Israel and Judah.! The second wife was 
commonly called “the foe,’’ and the two wives were frequently dis- 
tinguished as ‘‘the loved” and “the hated.” Nevertheless, the very 
fact that the second wife, however beautiful and fruitful she might 
have been, was rarely able to accomplish the divorce of the first 
wife, despite the fact that she had supplanted her in her husband’s 
affections, proves that the first wife was securely intrenched in her 
position both by custom and by the husband’s self-interest.2 The 
three passages just cited are probably all later than the sixth century 
B.c.—along with the Jahvist account of creation, a single equal help- 
1See Engert’s excellent discussion of this point, op. cit., pp. 27 ff. The great 

antiquity of this institution is proved by the existence in the primitive Semitic Gemein- 
sprache of the word for a second wife; see Wellhausen, op. cit., pp. 448 f. 
2The Deuteronomistic code especially intervened to guarantee the claim of the 

firstborn son, even though he be the child of ‘‘the hated,” that is, under normal con- 
ditions, of course, the first wife (Deut. 21:15-17). 


meet for a single man—and they are significant of a refinement of 
sentiment regarding the wife of youth that before long led to the 
monogamy which prevailed in the time of Jesus and thenceforth.! 
And so in spite of the comparatively late date of these utterances 
regarding the first wife, the arguments which have just been given, 
combined with the perfectly clear-cut way in which Hammurabi’s 
Code recognizes the primacy of the first wife, make it highly prob- 
able that even from the very first the wife of youth among the 
Hebrews also was felt to be, other things being equal, in a position, 
conventionally at least, regarded as superior to that of her successors.? 

To all this the objection is certain to be raised that the Indo- 
Europeans were monogamous, and hence the Homeric Greeks like- 
wise, while the present argument tacitly assumes a plurality of wives. 
Now it is indeed probable that the Indo-Europeans were, as a general 
thing, at least as far as the common people were concerned, conven- 
tionally monogamous. But we must remember that in all the cases 
with which we are dealing in Homer we have princely or heroic 
houses, and it is almost a platitude to observe that at all times and 
circumstances the nobility have allowed themselves far greater lati- 
tude in sexual and other forms of license than the common man has 

1S0 gradually did this most important modification of a great social institution 
come about, that without rescinding any of the old law, either by new revelation or 
otherwise, and with scarce a single hint in any of the very considerable literature of 
that and subsequent times, bigamy so completely passed out of existence that neither 
John, nor Jesus, nor any writer of the early church felt it of sufficient importance 
even to mention the matter. And so, curiously enough, the Old Testament law has 
remained apparently in actual force, to the considerable confusion of the church. 
Witness Luther’s famous quibbling on the matter, and the justification which the 
Mormons and Mohammedans have drawn for their practices; indeed, I am told on 
credible authority that in one of our northern states, little more than a generation 
ago, it was found impracticable to dismiss a prominent member of one of the greatest 
Protestant denominations who persisted in maintaining a harem and who defended his 
actions by the authority of the patriarchs and the Mosaic law. 

2 Cook, in the work just cited, has set forth a large number of the differences 
between the Code of Hammurabi and the laws of Moses. They arise primarily from 
the different conditions of life which prevail in nomadic and in agricultural society. The 
status of woman, however, seems not to be related in any essential way to the circum- 
stances of a settled habitation and more elaborately developed commercial institu- 
tions. Too much cannot be inferred from the silence of the Mosaic legislation relative 
to the primacy of the first wife. From the Koran alone no one would expect to find 
the first wife in Islam occupying the position of superiority which is actually hers, 
and the same may be true of the Old Testament. Compare, for example, the very 
singular omission to specify the cohabitation of father and daughter among the illicit 

relations (Lev., chaps. 18 and 20), though there can be no doubt that this was not 


been granted or could afford. In the rather trenchant words of the 
Kalmuck proverb, ‘‘the great people—and dogs—know no bonds of 
kin.” There is, moreover, a great mass of testimony to prove at 
least sporadic prevalence of polygamy among many of the Indo- 
European peoples, which Schrader (Sprachvergl. und Urgsch.,* III, 
341 ff.) has collected. The Rig-Veda is full of it among kings and 
nobles; Herodotos i. 135 attests polygamy for the Persians; Caesar 
tells us that Ariovistus had two wives, and Tacitus (Germania 18) 
speaks of the numerous wives that the powerful German princes 
had; the Kelts in Gaul had several wives apiece, according to Caesar; 
bigamy is common in the old Norse Sagas and it is likewise well 
attested for the Thracians, the Paionians, the Old Prussians, the 
early Slavs, etc. There is thus any amount of antecedent probability 
that the heroes of the Homeric age were, as far as they wanted to be, 
polygamous, and there are many facts to bear out the assumption. 
To be sure, that has been denied by some scholars under the influence 
of the romantic idealizers who wished to find every virtue blooming 
in pristine freshness among the Hellenes, and this single false preju- 
dice has done most to obscure the meaning of xovpédvos. Certain 
obvious facts there are, however. For example, there is no word 
which means exclusively “wife” in Homeric Greek, or in any other 
Greek, for that matter, dAoyos, which comes nearest to it, including 
persons whom we should not call wives at all. Thus Achilles calls 
Briseis the d\oxvos of Agamemnon (I 336), and uses @Aoxor of mis- 
tresses in general (vs. 340), and Hermes calls Leto an aXoyos of Zeus, 
though she was so only upon occasion (® 499). Again, the great 
court of Priam was manifestly typical of the patriarchal family house, 
as economists and historians have generally recognized, and Priam 
had besides Hekabe, his chief wife, Laothoe and Kastianeira as regular 
wives, not to mention the concubines who were the mothers of his 
bastards. Now it is incorrect to call this an oriental harem and stig- 
matize the Trojans as SapSapor in this respect,! for there is nothing in 
Homer to justify such a position. Indeed, the most beautiful and affect- 
ing scene depicting the ideal wedded life is setin Troy with the charac- 
ters of Hektor and Andromache. Among persons so frankly irregular 

1 Compare the sensible remarks of K. Koch on this point in his Program: Zur 
Steilung der Frau bei Homer, Eisenach, 1909, p. 9. 


as were the Homeric chiefs it is idle to dispute about the question of 
any strict monogamy. Did not each of the heroes have his beautiful 
captive to cheer him in the intervals of battle? Does not Agamem- 
non, even in offering Achilles his own daughter, frankly add seven 
beautiful Lesbian women and the twenty most beautiful Trojan 
women after Helen, obviously to fill the harem of his prospective 
son-in-law? Did not Menelaos, when Helen remained childless, 
take to wife a slave woman, who bore him Megapenthes? And it 
was this latter’s wedding that he and Helen were celebrating on a 
grand scale, when Telemachos dropped in for news of his father. 
The poet obviously sympathizes deeply with poor Laertes, who paid 
a huge price for the beautiful Eurykleia and yet was disappointed 
after all, because he was afraid of the wrath of his wife—as Homer 
puts it—a testimony much more to the vigorous personality of 
Antikleia than to any recognized institution of monogamy. Besides, 
the poet is quite inconsistent regarding this unusual virtue on the 
part of Laertes, for later on, in an undoubtedly most ancient episode 
of the Nostos, Eurykleia appears unequivocally as the wet-nurse of 
the infant Odysseus, t 482, od 5¢ wérpedes airy | TO o@ eri palo, 
“Tt was thou that didst nurse me there at thine own breast”’ (B. 
and L.), and infidelity toward Laertes would have been cruelly 
punished, while there is neither hint nor likelihood of her having 
been married to any retainer. 

Again, if the anthropomorphic Gods of Greece were such in their 
marital relations as in all others, our argument were proved beyond 
all doubt; it is sufficient merely to hint at the highly gallant and 
certainly not infrequent adventures of a Zeus or an Apollo, 
and the former had at least two regular wives, Dione and Hera. 
Furthermore, the very kernel of several heroic tales involves the 
motive of recognized polygamy. Even under the modernizing hand 
of Euripides, Jason weds Kreusa in Korinth without the least hint 
of divorcing Medea, who leaves quite on her own initiative. Like- 
wise in the Trachiniai of Sophokles, Herakles takes the new wife Iole 
without any indication of divorcing Deianeira or making her position 
untenable,! and she seeks merely to guarantee the continuance of his 
love by forwarding the robe of Nessos. But all this, together with 

Kowwvotca THv abray yduwr, 


much more similar evidence, has been gathered together by Ernst 
Hruza in his Polygamie und Pellikat nach griechischem Rechte, Leipzig, 
1894, 11 ff., especially 25 ff., who traces instances of bigamy even 
down into Athens of the fourth century and elsewhere in Greece, so 
that the two most famous instances of historical times—Anaxandridas 
of Sparta and Dionysios the First of Syracuse—are really not so 
isolated as has often been thought. 

It remains but to consider now in detail the instances of the 
occurrence of «xovpidvos in Homer. Several passages are very 
favorable to, if they do not distinctly imply, the original meaning 
which we have posited for the word. For example, both Paris and 
Menelaos speak of Helen as the covpidin ddoxos of the latter (H 392, 
N 626), though there is nothing to imply that she is not the legal 
wife of Paris also, who is called her wéors and her mapdxoiTis, cap- 
ture being in all civilizations recognized as a legal form of marriage, 
where it is not actually enjoined upon the bridegroom. More sig- 
nificant is the passage where second marriage is spoken of: Athene 
addressing Telemachos in a dream observes (0 21 ff.): “Thou know- 
est of what sort is the heart of a woman within her; all her desire is 
to increase the house of the man who takes her to wife, but of her 
former children and of her dear lord she has no more memory once 
he is dead, and she asks concerning him no more” (B. and L.). 
Here the first husband is the xoupid:0s pidos, “the dear one of youth,” 
the second is merely xeivos 6 Kev oruiy. Now it is obvious that 
here xovpidvos cannot mean merely “legally wedded”—the second 
husband was just as legally wedded as the first, but only the first 
could be the “husband of youth,”’ precisely as Menelaos is so char- 
acterized even on the lips of Paris, though the latter would be the 
very last person to emphasize his rival’s legal advantages over him, 
if that implication lie in the word. On the other hand, Menelaos 
was the husband of Helen’s youth—there was no denying that—and 
the use of this appellation was merely a convenient way of distin- 
guishing Helen’s former from her present husband. This meaning 
is also peculiarly appropriate in A 241 ff., where Iphidamas “slept the 
sleep of bronze, wretched man, far from his wedded wife, defending 
his fellow-citizens, even the wife of his youth, of whom he knew no 
joy, though he paid a great price for her, etc.’”? The same holds true 


for the three passages in the Homeric Hymns where the word occurs, 
6, 17; 2, 1386; and especially 5, 127, where Aphrodite persuades the 
not unnaturally very credulous Anchises that she is the virgin 
daughter of Otreus of Phrygia, come especially to wed him. In only 
one case might there be a reasonable doubt, that where Patroklos 
promises to make Briseis the xovpiévos a@doyos of Achilles, on his 
return from Troy (T 297 ff.). Now Briseis had been married before 
(vss. 291 ff.), but Achilles was as yet unmarried, and in taking 
Briseis he would be taking a “wife of youth” in a perfectly literal 
sense, though even then it is more likely that the adjective bears its 
secondary meaning, “lawfully wedded.” For this secondary mean- 
ing undoubtedly appears in Homer, as is evident from its combination 
with Adyos and Saya, which are obviously not “youthful” in any 
sense, but “belonging to the wedding of youth,” i.e., the formally 
solemnized and hence the most regularly recognized one. Such a 
change in the meaning of the word in Homer signifies that the 
ground for the formal distinction between the wife wedded in youth, 
and the one wedded later, was rapidly being lost in the tenth and 
ninth centuries B.c. in Ionia, where monogamous marriage prevailed, 
and that therefore the secondary meaning was coming to be the only 
one commonly understood, as from the sixth century onward it is 
the only meaning for the word which Greek literature recognizes. 



Harry Langford Wilson, professor of Roman archaeology and epigraphy 
in the Johns Hopkins University, died suddenly of pneumonia on February 
23. Born at Wilton, Ontario, October 28, 1867, he was in the prime of his life 
and usefulness. His undergraduate course was taken at Queen’s University, 
which later honored him with the degree of Doctor of Laws; in 1896 the 
doctorate was conferred upon him by the Johns Hopkins University. In 
1906-7 Professor Wilson was the annual professor of Latin in the American 
School of Classical Studies in Rome, and recently, in December, 1912, he was 
elected president of the Archaeological Institute of America; he was a 
foreign member of the Imperial German Archaeological Institute. 

With his high qualities as an administrator, Professor Wilson combined 
rare personal traits. He was most friendly and approachable, interested in his 
students and eager to assist them; he was ever impartial and fair-minded and, 
as by his manner he invited the co-operation of his friends, so he inspired 
confidence in his judgment. Professor Wilson was an able teacher and put 
all his energy into his work. As a result the subjects which he taught at the 
Johns Hopkins University received a strong impetus, and the equipment 
which was provided in a comparatively short time, largely through his 
efforts, both in the library and in the collection of antiquities and repro- 
ductions, is surprisingly large. 

To the world of scholars Professor Wilson is perhaps better known for his 
excellent edition of The Satires of Juvenal (1903); he was also author of The 
Metaphor in the Epic Poems of P. Papinius Statius (1898), and of numerous 
articles in various archaeological and philological journals. Aside from the 
personal loss, which his friends feel so grievously, it is a matter of great regret 
that one whose life was so full of promise was cut off so early in his career. 
Sit tibi terra levis. 

W. D. 



I am not aware that I have ever said that men of English speech cannot 
read Greek lyrics, nor does that seem likely. I have been reading them all 
my life. In a monograph published four years ago I did remark that ‘these 
Greek songs were never intended by their composers to be read by anybody, 
Greek or barbarian.’ Much less have I ever said (God forbid!) that we 
moderns cannot read Greek Aeolic verse in any other than the ‘logaoedic’ 
manner. On the contrary, I have been reading it, in conformity with what 
I believe is its true metrical form, for half a dozen years with increasing ease 
and pleasure and have discussed the matter with many correspondents. 
What I have said is that the allegation that ‘the metrical structure of Aeolic 
verse must have been logaoedic because we moderns cannot read it in any 
other manner’ is not convincing. I am responsible for no part of this 

A review of my recent book on the Verse of Greek Comedy, published in 
the last number of this journal, prompts and will perhaps be thought to 
warrant these personal affirmations. Three times in this review I am 
saddled with statements that I repudiate, not to mention a considerable 
residuum of criticism that leaves me uncomfortably in doubt just what it is 
I am supposed to believe. This fact sensibly abated the complacence with 
which I read at the beginning of the review that I had given in my book ‘“‘a 
perfectly lucid and intelligible account of a matter which perhaps it is no 
exaggeration to say that not more than two or three men in America or ten in 
Europe have hitherto understood.” 

The attempt to conform the metrical structure of Greek melic odes 
composed in one or more of ten distinct rhythms to the four elementary 
rhythms of modern recited poetry implies, I think, a fundamental miscon- 
ception of facts and is due to the same confusion of mind that fails generally 
to appreciate well-defined differences between Greek and English poetry. 
The manner in which we find it natural to read English accentual poetry has 
not, in my opinion, the least significance in the scientific determination of 
the form of Greek quantitative melic verse. Quite apart from this is the 
question how we moderns shall now render the different sorts of Greek verse. 
This question is both practical and important and is worthy of serious 

There was nothing in the manner of rendering a comedy in the theatre 
that distracted the attention of the man on the seats from the play itself. 
He was born to it. But a modern put there would inevitably have had his 


Nores AND DIscussIONs 215 

attention drawn from the play to the player. Apart from strange external 
conditions, he would have been strongly affected by the actor’s mode of 
rendering: his exact observance of syllabic time, the lack of stress, and in 
non-melic verse the varying but constant rippling succession of tones within 
small compass. The total impression at first would probably have been that 
the rendering was sing-song. He would have got the same general impression 
on hearing Plato read one of his dialogues. When the actor or the chorus 
begins to sing, his impressions are enlarged. The tones have now been 
absorbed in the melody, but this is simple and not of great compass. The 
music sounds strange, but happily he can distinguish and understand the 
words of the song. There is still no stress. The rhythm flows smoothly on; 
the leader marks the time, appealing silently to the performer’s eye or lightly 
to his ear, just as in all forms of non-melic verse, except the comic trimeter, 
the time was marked by a flute. Presently our man hears songs in rhythms 
with which he is not familiar, but his soul is the soul of a Greek and rejoices. 
This is the picture that I get of that blessed but bewildered modern. I am 
not unaware that the fact of ictus is still in debate. 

The question how far we should now attempt to repeat the distinctive 
features of the ancient rendering is one that every man interested in the 
matter should be allowed to settle for himself, even when one says, “I 
propose to read my Greek poetry as I read English poetry, without attention 
to petty ancient details, for I wish to be understood.” That is an intelligible 
attitude, even if extreme. His forefathers pronounced Greek like English 
for about the same reason. He will fall into difficulties, but these are his 
own affair. At the other extreme, everybody must agree that there is one 
ancient feature that cannot now be repeated. The music to which these 
songs were sung is irretrievably lost. This is a staggering loss, the play with 
Hamlet left out. We must now either simply read them or compose new 
music for them. Most of us probably will read them, but we need not 
lose heart. So did the Alexandrian scholar, who was sometimes himself a 
poet. So did the cultivated Roman. Horace did not sing Alcaeus. For 
that matter did he sing his own odes? Otto Jahn thought that he did, but 
he supports his contention only by indirect evidence and overlooks the 
significant fact of Horace’s persistent peculiar use of caesura or diaeresis 
in verse that Jahn nevertheless thinks was melic. 

How shall we deal with the other features of the ancient rendering? 
How far is it wise to neglect these, if preserving them seems to distract 
attention from the matter to the manner? That would really be neglecting 
the ancient mode in order now to secure an effect comparable with the 
ancient effect. The play’s the thing! I myself grow distracted if I attempt 
to reproduce the variations of pitch signified by the written accents; every 
other feature is hopelessly outbulked. To forego stress is much easier, and 
just here I again protest that I have never said that we moderns cannot read 
Greek poetry without it. But there must be no quarreling! If anybody 

216 Notes AND Discussions 

feels that it is for him “physiologically and psychologically impossible” 
to recite verse without an ictus, let him ‘stamp’ and ‘clap’ and stress his 
theses in reading Sappho and Alcaeus to his heart’s content. The wise Aris- 
tophanes has said it: wdpes wdpes rps Tov Oedv aire Siappayjvat! 

Most teachers probably will agree that one feature of the Greek render- 
ing must be preserved at any cost—observance of the quantity of the syl- 
lables that constitute the feet. The man who believes that he does this, in 
the Greek manner, in reading English poetry will not think this difficult, but 
he had best look sharp. Let him compare his reading of the line: “This 
is the forest primeval, the murmuring pines and the hemlocks,” with his 
rendering of a verse from Homer or Vergil. Omond, an English prosodist of 
acknowledged authority, holds that the English rhythm we are pleased to 
call dactylic is in triple time, the simple feet being tribrachs, and he quotes 
Longfellow’s line in illustration. He holds similarly that the English heroic 
line is in duple (common) time, the simple feet being isomeric. Each 
rhythm thus becomes the converse of its Greek prototype. So widely do 
opinions differ as to quantity in English verse. 

Perhaps the Greek verse that an Englishman reads most readily, with 
due observance of the quantities of the syllables composing the simple feet, 
is the anapaestic tetrameter. No syllable in this verse is irrational and the 
spondaic anapaest with resolved thesis is the only form of the simple foot 
of which the movement is strange. The sweep and volume of the verse 
(Dionysius remarks on its dignity) seem even to us to demand a measured 
and cadenced rendering. Swinburne has shown what can be done with it 
in English in his translation of the parabasis of the Birds, but his brachy- 
catalectic tetrameters appear to me to be more effective: 

Such glory, such terror, such passion, as lighten and harrow the 
far fierce east, 

Rang, shone, spake, shuddered around us: the night was an altar 
with death for priest. 

The observance of syllabic quantity in spoken and recitative Greek verse in 
diplasic rhythm is for me more difficult and the effect is somewhat alien, 
possibly because I read English iambic and trochaic verse badly. The Greek 
comic trimeter, in particular, requires practice, in consequence of the dis- 
turbance of iambic sequence caused by the frequent occurrence of irrational 
and anapaestic simple feet. 

The necessity of marking syllabic length with precision is absolute in 
reading melic verse; otherwise, distinctions of rhythm are lost, but it is just 
the wealth and splendor of its rhythms that differentiates Greek melic verse 
from modern poetry and makes it a great treasure-house of new effects. 
Five of these rhythms, including true logaoedic rhythm, will not seem strange 
to us, although each will gain in significance and seem a more delicate means of 
rhythmical expression, if the verse is rendered with the quantitative precision 

Notrs AND DIscussIoNs 217 

that the Greek text makes easily possible. Aristophanes reveals to us a 
new and spirited sixth rhythm in his paeonic verse. As to ionic rhythm, few 
modern scholars, happily, have the temerity (to characterize this procedure 
mildly) to maim and dismember it and reduce it to a series of. dragging 
logaoedic metres consisting each of a cyclic and a triseme anapaest in 
unvaried order and succession. The passion, terror, and despair inherent in 
dochmiac verse in tragedy can be expressed, in a fashion, even with the 
speaking voice, although I find it difficult to imagine Sophocles reading his 
dochmiacs. There remain two rhythms, prosodiac-enoplic and Aeolic, of 
which the rhythmical structure is now in debate. Within a century both 
these rhythms, as well as paeonic and ionic, have been consigned by 
some extreme theorists to the class that Henri Weil expressively named les 
prétendus logaédes, a veritable muck-heap. All four may be submitted with 
confidence to the test of a rendering with the speaking voice, but this must be 
quantitatively exact, there must be no scrimping of ‘times.’ This is an infe- 
rior test, since the Greeks themselves employed these rhythms in song, but 
it will serve. It might begin with the second strophe of Sophocles’s Song 
of Foreboding in his first Oedipus, Sava pév otv, Sava tapdcoa, which 
will bring two of these rhythms to the proof. Let the strophe be rendered 
first as a combination of Aeolic with ionic rhythm, and then as ‘logaoedic,’ 
with the time of each triseme syllable fully given in the latter. 

We shall gain a new sense of the significance and importance of syllabic 
time in all forms of Greek rhythm, if we sing the odes composed in them, and 
I make the suggestion seriously. Some of us are careless (if it is carelessness) 
in reading English verse, but when we sing it, we mark ‘times’ with pre- 
cision. Anybody can invent, as he proceeds, a simple melody within the 
octave to which to sing his Greek ode, but first experiments perhaps had best 
be confined to his private apartments. If this seems too venturesome, there 
is a deal of good music at command that has been written to accompany the 
Greek plays presented in recent years in the original at English and American 
universities, but this is modern music and must be adapted. The melody 
can be appropriated (with apologies to the composer) and the time adjusted 
to the rhythm in which the ode is actually written. Professor John K. Paine 
wrote beautiful music to the first Oedipus and to the close of the Birds. His 
music to Aristophanes’s woAAa 3) xai xowa renders the original rhythm 
almost exactly. 


Professor White is, of course, the final authority on his own intentions 
and practice. He says that I misunderstood him. But he cannot intend 
to say that I meant to misrepresent him. For my statement was explicitly 
given as as inference from his own words which I now quote more fully 
(p. xxii): ‘Regret that we cannot teach our pupils to render the Odes of 


Pindar as Greeks rendered them is an amiable sentiment, the resolution to 
read them even at the cost of reading them in the wrong fashion is prompted 
no doubt by a generous impulse, but neither has the least significance in the 
scientific determination of facts.” 

Whatever this means for Professor White’s own theory and practice, 
its general acceptance would, I believe, mean the abandonment of the attempt 
to read Greek lyrics in our classrooms which I, it seems mistakenly, assumed 
to be satirized as an amiable weakness by Professor White. I have taught 
Greek metric in a practical way, perhaps somewhat more persistently than 
the majority of my colleagues, for twenty-five years. There are some 
students in every class who can learn to read with pleasure to themselves and 
their hearers by the schemes of Jebb’s Sophocles and Gildersleeve’s Pindar. 
They can in my experience make nothing of the schemes of the new metric. 

Still I am also interested, though less so, in the purely “scientific deter- 
mination of facts,” provided I can get any light upon them. Professor 
White’s reply throws less light on the subject than I had hoped for. Elo- 
quence, wit, an implied Aristophanic comparison of rév éué to the stressful 
and distressful Cleon, a brilliant ‘‘time-machine” picture of a modern new 
metrist’s experience when translated to the Dionysiac theater, the repeated 
purely abstract and general protest against assimilating Greek poetry to 
English—these excellent and entertaining things I find. They occupy most 
of his space. Specific argument on the issues is limited to a few suggestions 
toward the end. 

Professor White repeats the oft-refuted charge that the “logaoedist”’ 
neglects quantity and “scans” with an English sing-song exaggeration of 
his stresses. There is plenty of bad and careless reading on any theory. 
But these particular faults have no necessary or logical connection with the 
logaoedic doctrine. A “logaoedist”’ may be, perhaps is, as careful of his 
quantities as another, and though he may sometimes intentionally exaggerate 
the stresses for pedagogical purposes, he may and often does stress lightly 
and read freely to bring out the thought and feeling of the poem. The bad 
practice of overstressing has nothing to do with the problem of the existence 
of rhythm without any stress at all. It is, I think, impossible to produce 
any modern example of entirely stressless rhythm. The French alexandrine 
is sometimes cited as a case in point. As a matter of fact its “tune” is 
distinctly anapaestic as Dryden, Moore, and Lowell have pointed out, and 
many of the more intelligent French critics admit. There is normally a 
strong stress on the twelfth and sixth syllables and frequently one on the 
third and eighth. This makes it no unjustifiable assimilation of French to 
English meter to affirm that the alexandrine is in essence an irregular or free 
anapaestic movement of four feet; that it is not either six iambic feet or a 
purely syllable counting verse of twelve syllables. 

One may be able to define and reproduce in his own reading the different 
effects of which Greek, English, and French poetry are capable, and yet 

Notes AND Discussions 219 

perceive, what is the plain fact, that the movement of déexarov piv éros 708’ 
érei IIpuduov is essentially the same as that of “Dans vos cieux au dela de 
la sphére des nues”’ (in spite of the spelling of dans and au) and that of “And 
the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea”’ (in spite of the Byronic 
bad prosody of ‘‘like”’). 

Professor White’s other chief argument is a repetition of the familiar 
fallacious illustration of the English hexameter coupled with the old warning 
against reading Greek hexameters in $ time. I should be more impressed by 
Omond’s statement that English dactylics are tribrachs if he had not also 
said on page 155 of his book that Byron’s “Song of Saul” is in dactylics. 
As the poem is certainly in the main irregularly anapaestic, this for me places 
the ‘‘acknowledged authority” of Omond precisely on a par with the acknowl- 
edged authority of Hephaestion. An “authority” is no argument in metric, 
but if I wanted one I should appeal to Poe, who, despite some absurdities due 
to imperfect scholarship, is the best metrician and one of the clearest reasoners 
that America has produced. Most English hexameters are simply bad and 
that is all there is to say of them. A few are pretty good, as Kingsley’s 
“Lingered in rose-red rays on the peaks of Ionian mountains”; and may and 
should be read in 7 time. There is no real difficulty in reading Greek 
hexameters in 7 time. To read them in any other way is mere carelessness or 
haste. There is no logical connection between the careless or unconscious 
shortening of the dactyl in the hexameter and the deliberate and conscious 
adoption of the “cyclic dactyl” as a necessary element in Greek lyric. The 
validity of this latter assumption must be argued on its own merits. I find 
no further elucidation of the matter in Professor White’s note—nothing but 
the affirmation that music can do or that he personally can do what I have in 
“choriambic dimeter’’ given definite reasons for believing that nobody can do 
with the reading voice. It is possible to read the dactyl of the choriamb in its 
literal time, but only, I think, at the cost of developing another secondary 
stress. I suppose that most of us sometimes sing our Greek choruses in 
private; personally I do not believe that it improves them any more than 
flesh-coloring would better the “Hermes” of Praxiteles. But that is a ques- 
tion of taste. 

Professor White will, I am confident, agree with me that, though con- 
troversy is usually unwise, in these remote philological matters it can do no 
harm, and may serve to clarify our ideas. Opinions which (in substance) 
he himself held for the larger part of his life may be wrong, but can hardly 
be inexplicably perverse. As controversialists each of us naturally endeavors 
to prove himself in the right. But our chief common task is to bring out of 
the confusion and define a few issues which may admit of testing by exact 
philological inquiry, by laboratory experiment, or by the consensus of intelli- 
gent observation, concentrated upon one point at a time. In the words of 
one of Plato’s most authentic precepts, “If anyone assailed your hypothesis 
you would not answer until you had considered the consistency or the 

220 Notes AND DISscuUssIONS 

inconsistency of its consequences. Then if required to render an account of 
the hypothesis itself you would assume and refer it to a more general prin- 
ciple, the best you could find, until finally you reached something sufficient 
(and acceptable to both sides). But you would not in eristic fashion confound 
and confuse the discussion of the principle and its consequences if you desired 
to discover the truth.” This question of stress is such an dpxy. It has to be 
settled before anything else can be determined. I genuinely believed that 
Professor White had adopted the to me unthinkable but logically impreg- 
nable position that, though we cannot feel rhythm without stress, the Greeks 
could. I now understand him to say that we can, and that he has been 
reading by pure quantity and without stresses for the past six years. I 
believe that he must be under an illusion. Some method I am sure will be 
found to decide this issue of fact, any uncertainty about which makes all 
discussion of metric a mere game of cross-purposes. 

I have stated and shall continue to state as trenchantly as I can the argu- 
ment for the logaoedic reading in which I believe. But in so delicate and 
difficult a matter I recognize the broad human probability that I may be 

entirely mistaken. 


The list of Delian gymnasiarchs published in the last issue of the Bulletin 
de correspondance hellénique (XXXVI [1912], 395) gives what at first sight 
seems to be a “knock-out” blow to the system of chronology arranged by me 
for the ten years before and after 150 B.c. Gorgias, the son of Asklepiades, 
of Ionidae occupies the twentieth place in the list, which, assuming with M. 
Roussel that the first gymnasiarch to hold office in Delos belongs to 167/6 B.c. 
and that one name belongs to each year thereafter, appears to be 148/7 B.c. 
Gorgias, however, was gymnasiarch in Delos in the archonship of Archon 
in Athens, who, in turn, was the immediate predecessor of Epikrates. Since, 
now, the secretary for Epikrates’ archonship belongs to the deme Sypalettos 
of the tribe Kekropis, Archon is placed by the “tribal cycle” of the secre- 
taries in 151/0 B.c., or twelve years earlier or later. The contradiction 
seems clear and decisive. 

The “tribal cycle” is established with certainty in 168/7 B.c. and again 
in 140/39 s.c. Thereafter, moreover, it continues for twelve-year period 
after twelve-year period without a break. There is no sign of a disturbance 
between 168/7 and 140/39 B.c., and, if a disturbance did take place in that 
interval, it must have been arranged in such a way that the succession of 
the tribes proceeds in 140/39 B.c. as if it had not occurred. The objections 
to dating the gymnasiarchy of Gorgias and the archonship of Archon in 
148/7 B.c. are, accordingly, serious. 

Let us, therefore, look at the list of gymnasiarchs a little closer. The 
title tells us that Phocion, son of Aristokrates, of Melite, the thirteenth in 

Notes AND Discussions 221 

the catalogue, yupvacupyyjoas dvéypayev trois yuuvacupyynoavtas ad’ ov 6 
Spyos 8a Pwyowv dvexryocaro tiv vnoov. “Il semble, d’aprés l’écriture,” 
says M. Plassart, to whose courtesy I am indebted for a reprint— 
rather preprint—of his publication of the document in question, “que le 
début de la liste ait été gravé sous son successeur.” The tribes of the first 
fourteen gymnasiarchs, numbered in terms of the official order, succeed 
one another as follows: 7, 1, 1, 6, 2, 11, 6, 3, 7, 8, 6, 1, 8, 5. That is as 
things should be when the names are listed in the order in which the gym- 
nasiarchs, xeporovnbérvres, held office. The nine gymnasiarchs who come 
next in. the list, however, are arranged on the stone, which is less easily 
legible here than elsewhere, as follows: 
No. of Tribe Name of Gymnasiarch 
2 [’ A]ewor[buJax[o]s Avolov (éy) Muppivobrrns 
"Apeus’ A[pé]ws [II p]acceds 
dns’ Apioroxdéous Pdvevs 

2 ee eT. AZ Temodéov ’ Axapveds 

[Ilo]\véevos Av[r16]xov Mapadudmos 

[T'op]-ylas * AoxAnmiddov "Iwvldns 

ov IladAn[v] eds 
= O[pajodéov Z[ov] evs 

The point which M. Plassart has failed to note in regard to this lot of names 
—which, if the published plate does not mislead me, was added on the stone 
by the same hand, and therefore, in all probability, at a single point of time— 
is that with one exception the gymnasiarchs included in it succeed one 
another in the official order of their tribes. In other words, these nine names 
are not listed in the order in which the gymnasiarchs served. For it is incon- 
ceivable that the haphazard of election should have brought it about that 
the tribes to which the gymnasiarchs belong move steadily in one direction 
along the official order. Nor does any such progression exist elsewhere in 
the list where the order of the names is demonstrably the order of election 
to and tenure of the office (see below, p. 222). On the other hand, it was a 
well-established Athenian practice to arrange names according to the 
official order of the tribes even when some of the tribes were not represented 
and others were represented by several members (JG, IT, 859). 

The conclusion thus reached as to this lot of nine gymnasiarchs is not 
vitiated by the fact that one of the number violates the rule that the names 
are arranged in sequence according to the official tribal order. This one 
exceptional official is Gorgias himself. An examination of the stone may 
determine why his name appears out of its proper place, which is before 
or after that of Aristomachos, son of Lysias, of Myrrhinutta. In the plate 
(VI) the name stands out with exceptional clearness and looks as if it had 
been cut deeper than the others. Is it a correction made in the groove where 
an earlier name was excised? Such an excision was actually made in line 
34 of the document. 


However that may be, the misplacing of a name in this way is 
not unknown in similar lists. Thus in the catalogue of the thesmothetae 
for 224/3 B.c. (IG, II, 859, frg. ab, 1. 60; cf. Bates, ‘The Five Post- 
Kleisthenean Tribes,” Cornell Studies, VIII, 3) the officer from the tribe 
Leontis appears out of his proper position, although, generally speaking, 
the official tribal sequence is followed in all the catalogues of thesmothetae 
cut on the stone. Another exception, however, occurs either in the catalogue 
for 228/7 B.c. (Frg. ab, 1. 22) or in that for 222/1 s.c. (Frg. d, 1. 9), unless 
it really be that the little deme Anakaia belonged at the same time partly 
to Hippothontis and partly to Demetrias (Bates, op. cit., p. 23; Kirchner, 
Rhein. Mus., LIX [1904], 298f.). See also JG, II, 467, 1. 143; cf. Bates, 
p. 52: IG, III, 1091; ef. Pauly-Wissowa, V, 38: JG, III, 1280; ef. P.-W., 
V, 58: IG, II, 469; cf. P.-W., V, 102, where in each instance a name appears 
out of its proper tribal group. 

The rest of the gymnasiarchs in the list are distributed among the tribes 
in the following order: 8, 8, 4 (described as [xeporovy]Oels ? bd rod 
émueAnTov Kal Tov drEouevwv, in regard to which specification M. Roussel 
(BCH, XXXVI, 436 ff.) has made the proper remarks), 2, 3, 11 (all three 
defined as yxeporovnfels irs rot Sjpov), 11, 6 or 11, 11, 5, 1, 7, 4, 8, 12, 
10, 6, 10, 2, 2 or 12, 9, 2, 6, 2 or 8, 12, 6, 10, 2, 6, 5, 11, 10,10. The 
irregularity of the succession shows that here, as in the case of the first 
fourteen, we have to do with a list arranged in the order of office-holding; 
and, in fact, the coincidences noted by M. Plassart between gymnasiarchs and 
archons in the years 127/6, 123/2, and 118/7 B.c. prove clearly that this is so. 

It should be observed, moreover, that on my interpretation of the docu- 
ment, no less than on that of M. Plassart, the list gives us what it professes 
to give—‘‘the gymnasiarchs from the time the island was received by Athens 
at the hands of the Romans.” The purpose of the list was primarily to 
preserve the names of the officials, not to show in what order they held the 
position; to gratify the vanity and stimulate the generosity of those elected 
to preside over, and often to finance, the gymnasium and the various 
activities which centered there, not to construct a table for chronological 

Hence all that the new catalogue proves in this connection is that 
Gorgias was gymnasiarch in some year between 154/3 and 145/4B.c. That 
is to say, he must still be assigned to a precise year on the criterion of the 
tribal cycle of the secretaries; whereupon, however, he falls definitely into 
the year 151/0 B.c. This year must also be assigned to the Athenian archon 
Archon and .150/49 B.c. to his successor Epikrates. Since the new list of 
gymnasiarchs dates Timarchides in 136/5 B.c., Xenon in 1383/2 B.c., and 
transfers Metrophanes and his successor Er-(?) from 1383/1 to 145/3 B.c., 
its aid in straightening out the Athenian archon-list for this period is very 

Witu1am Scott Fercuson 

Nores AND Discussions 


It is a much-vexed question whether the six thousand votes required to 
ostracize a citizen of Athens constituted a majority ora quorum. Plutarch’s 
statement in his life of Aristeides (7) is explicit and conclusive in favor of a 
quorum: of & dpxovres rp@rov pev dinpiOpow 75 cvprav év Taito TOV doTpa- 
cov wAHOos: ei yap ELaxiryiAiwy éddrroves of Hépovres elev dredjs Fv 6 é- 
ootpaxipds* ereata tev dvopdtuv exacTov idia rUevres Tov brs Tov TAEioTwV 
yeypappévov éexnputrov eis ery déxa. But Plutarch is the only ancient 
writer who states explicitly that six thousand votes constituted a quorum. 
Diodorus (xi. 52, 2) simply says that the man who received the majority 
of votes cast went into exile. The article in the Etymoligicum Magnum! 
mentions a minimum vote of six thousand without specifying whether it 
was a quorum or a majority. In favor of a majority the strongest evidence 
is a quotation from Philochorus in Pollux*?: dupibpnbévrev 8 (rav dorpd- 
xov) Otw mrdiora yévouro Kal py éAdtTw éaxwryiAiwy Tovrov a... . év 
déxa Hucpars peracryvas THS woAEws Eryn Séxa. Vorepov Se éyevovro revte. 

It is well known that quotations in ancient writers are frequently inac- 
curate. Even orators and historians do not always reproduce the exact 
wording of laws and treaties. Greater fidelity is not to be expected from 
the compilers of notes, lexicons, and handbooks. As it stands, the passage 
bears evidence of compression. It is entirely possible that in the process 
of compression and transcription the meaning was changed. This is not 
a gratuitous suspicion. For the statement in the last sentence that the 
term of banishment was subsequently reduced to five years is manifestly 
incorrect. It behooves us, therefore, to be cautious in rejecting the clear 
statement of Plutarch on the strength of a lexicographer’s report of the 
account of Philochorus which in at least one particular is incorrect. 

It is now generally recognized that ostracism belongs to the class voyor,* 
or Yndiopara én’ dvdpi, for which a minimum vote of six thousand was 
required. But unfortunately here also the sources are ambiguous. The 
plaintiff in Theomnestes v. Neaera (Demos. lix. 89) recites the condition of 
a vote conferring citizenship in language that clearly implies a quorum. 
ovdk 4 (6 vouos) Kupiay yevéoOar rHv oinow, éav py TH WHdYw cis Thy émoicav 
exxAnoiav trepegaxryxirvor "AOnvaiwy Ynpicwvrar kpvBdnv Wydfopevor. 

1S.v, "Egoorpaxwpds: éefaxirxiAlwy 5¢ yivoudvwy (ra&v dorpdkwv) gvyh dexaeris 
Wnoglierat rod xpivopévov. 

2 Appendix, p. 67, ed. Porson. Cf. Lex. Cantabrigense, s.v, doTpaxiwpyod tpéros. 
The scholiast on Aristophanes’ Knights 855 to the same effect has no independent 

*Gilbert, Griech. Altertiimer, p. 346, n. 4; Martin, Notes sur l’ostracisme dans 
Athénes, p. 39. 

‘They are yndiouara rather than véuo, and include votes conferring immunity 
(ddea) and citizenship; cf. Martin, op. cit., p. 42. Carcopino, Histoire de l’ostracisme, 
p. 156, seeks to differentiate ostracism from ynd¢loyara ém’ dvdpl. But this technical 
differentiation does not alter the fact that the same principle is involved in both. 


But elsewhere Demosthenes (xxiv. 45) puts the restriction less clearly: 
éav py Wndiapévov “APnvaiwy tiv ddaav mpdrov pi eAarrov éaxurxriwv, ols 
dv d0fn xpvBonv yndLouevos. In the summary of the law which follows, he 
uses pi) €Aatrov 7H éfaxiryiALwv Yynpoapevwv to express the condition. Ando- 
' eides (i. 87) quotes the law in practically the same form as Demosthenes. 
Those who believe that the six thousand votes both in ostracism and in 
Yndicpata én’ dvdpi constituted a quorum rightly point out that the words 
ots dv 86m do not imply a unanimous vote any more than the formula in 
decrees éSofev 777 BovAy xai 7 Syuw implies a unanimous vote of the senate 
and the assembly. 

Such is the material available for deciding this important question. 
Much ingenuity has been exhibited in adducing arguments on both sides; 
but the latest and most exhaustive discussion of the subject shows that on 
the basis of this material no final solution is possible. There is, however, 
a phase of the question which has been strangely neglected. It is the rela- 
tion between the minimum number of jurymen annually selected by lot and 
the minimum vote in ostracism and Wydicpara éx’ dvdpi. 

Though the dicasts commonly performed their functions in distinct 
sections they really constituted a single body under the chairmanship of 
the Thesmothetae. The heliastic oath was annually administered to them 
in a body.? On occasion the whole panel sat in judgment.? Under certain 
circumstances the ecclesia acted as a judicial body; under others it was repre- 
sented by the dicasts sitting as a body or in sections.‘ The representative 
character of the juries is shown by the forms of address & *"A@nvain, & av- 
Spes "A@yvain. In joining the senate in the oath confirming the treaty with 
Chalcis the dicasts acted for the assembly.’ Indeed Frankel argues that 
“six thousand Athenians” and “all Athenians” are in certain connections 
equivalent expressions.® 

The requirement that this representative body should number six 
thousand cannot be accidental. The number must possess some signifi- 
cance. The most natural explanation is that under certain circumstances 
a quorum of the assembly was required to be present. The notion of a 
quorum was familiar to the Athenians. In a decree of a deme occur the 

1Carcopino, op. cit., pp. 150 ff., presents the strongest possible arguments in favor 
of the majority theory. 

2 Gilbert, op. cit., pp. 439 ff. 

* Andocides i. 17. Lipsius, Das attische Recht, p. 135, n. 3, points out that the 
reference is not to a meeting of the assembly as Frankel argued. 

¢‘* Verisimilmente eliea non é stato in origine che un altro nome della éxxAnola, 
l’assemblea popolare. Poi il significato dei nomi s’ é differenziato: l’uno 6 passato a 
significare l’assemblea popolare in quanto emana leggi e decreti: |’altro l’assemblea 
in quanto giudica e di qui, con facile passagio, i tribunali popolari.”—De Sanctis, 
Storia della Repubblica Ateniese, p. 250. 

5 CIA, IV, 29a. 

* Die attischen Geschworenengerichte, p. 16. 

Nores AnD Discussions 225 

words 6 Syjpapxos . . . . dddrw rHv Ydov éav wapHow py HAdrrovs 7 AAA." 
And the phrase dju0s zAnbiwv evidently describes a quorum.? There is no 
trace of a quorum in the case of the regular deliberative meetings of the 
ecclesia. But the practice in connection with ostracism and Wydicpara én’ 
dvépi suggests that precautions to secure a representative vote were taken 
when the interests of an individual were at stake, i.e., when the assembly 
was exercising judicial or semijudicial functions. Direct proof of this theory 
is lacking; but Frankel adduces, in support of his view that “ six thousand 
Athenians” and “all Athenians” are synonymous expressions, some argu- 
ments that are of interest in this connection. He cites a passage from 
Demosthenes (xxiv. 46) dealing with ddea in which the condition p) édar- 
tov 7} eaxicxiArLwov Wydioapevww is repeated by «i waow "AOnvains éddxe. 
Another instance of this technical use of “all Athenians” as the equivalent 
of ‘‘six thousand Athenians” occurs in Xenophon’s Hellenica (i. 7, 9). 
KadAékevos elrev: ered) trav Te Katnyopowrwv Kata Tav oTpaTyyav Kai éxeivwv 
dmoAoyoupévwv ev TH mpotépa éxxAnoig axnxdacr, Suyndicacba 'APyvaiovs 
mavras Kata pvAds. It is only reasonable to suppose that the same care 
that was taken to protect the interests of a citizen in the case of ostracism 
or the interests of the community in the case of yndiopara én’ dvdpi should 
be taken to protect the interests of a citizen on trial before the assembly. 
It is true that this object could be achieved by the requirement of a fixed 
majority of six thousand. But the majority theory furnishes no explana- 
tion of the practice of selecting a jury panel of six thousand. If, how- 
ever, 2 quorum of six thousand was required in an assembly performing 
judicial functions, it was entirely natural that when judicial functions 
were delegated to a smaller body of citizens their number should corre- 
spond to the quorum. The representative character of the dicasts accounts 
for their being regarded as a single body even though they were divided 
into sections. 

The theory that six thousand constituted a quorum has the advantage 
of affording a single explanation of all occurrences of six thousand as a 
minimum requirement. When once it is recognized that a single principle 
is involved,’ there can be no question of a majority. The conclusion that 
six thousand constituted a quorum is inevitable. 

Rosert J. BONNER 
University or CHIcaco 

1 Haussoulier, La vie municipale en Attique, p. 7; cf. Martin, op. cit., p. 49. 

2 CIA, I, 57, cited by Glotz, s.v. ‘‘ Ekklesia,” Dict. des antiquités. 

‘Keil recognizes this principle. ‘‘6000 Stimmen gelten als die die politische 
Gesamtbirgerschaft voll reprasentierende Stimmenzahl, wie sie fiir gewisse Beschliisse 
(véuo. ér’ dvdpl) gesetzlich gefordert war: 6000 ist die Gesamtzahl der Zahl der 

i In der éxxAnola ist der gesamte duos als politische, in der 7Aala als 
richterliche Kérperschaft susammengefaszt.—Gercke and Norden, ‘“‘Griechische Staats- 
altertiimer,” in Einleitung in die Altertamswissenschaft, III, 362. 

Notes AND Discussions 

NOTE ON HORACE ODES i. 27. 21-24 

Quae saga, quis te soluere Thessalis 
Magus uenenis, quis poterit deus? 
Vix inligatum te triformi 
Pegasus expediet Chimaera. 

The key to the interpretation of these lines hangs on inligatum. The 
stock explanation of its function here is ‘“tamquam draconis flexibus.”! 
Commenting on “‘Thessalis . . . . uenenis,’”’ Orelli utters the warning? that 
we are not to be influenced by inligatum into reading an allusion to xardSec- 
pos. But Kiessling (see n. 1) does read such an allusion in these words, 
and yet, strange to say, clings to the stereotyped explanation of inligatum. 
Our present contention is that throughout the quatrain Horace has clearly 
in mind the magic process rejected by the distinguished editors. 

Although our knowledge of defizio and allied magic has greatly increased 
in recent years, yet we can find in that department only evidence of a col- 
lateral character to support our thesis. Jnligare is not found in any extant 
defixio; ligo, however, and certain compounds other than inligare are found,* 
and also implicare,‘ a common synonym of inligare. Owing to the specialized 
manner in which these words are used in magical formulae, they are almost 
wholly denuded of their usual individual meanings, and all alike are invested 
with the single magical meaning “‘to bind”’ or “to detain with a spell against 
one’s will.” It would seem, then, quite accidental that inligare has not been 
preserved for us in a magic document. Even from this indirect evidence 
there emerges a reasonable probability that Horace, no mean authority on 
the ways and terms of the sorcerer,’ intended to clothe inligatum with a 
magical connotation and thus to conclude the stanza in a manner that accords 
with its beginning. 

We have, moreover, a Tacitean example of inligare where it has funda- 
mentally the same meaning that we claim for the word in the Horatian line, 
viz., ‘ut Abdum specie amicitiae uocatum ad epulas lento ueneno inligaret”’ 

1 Orelli (Baiter-Hirschfelder), ad loc.; Kiessling, Oden und Epoden, ad loc.; Wick- 
ham, Odes, Epodes, and Carmen Saeculare, ad loc. 

2 ‘De xaradécuots propter seq. u. illigatum non cogitandum”” (loc. cit.). 

* The figures refer to Audollent, Defixionum Tabellae, Paris, 1904. 

ligo—103, 3; 219a, 3; 247,10; 252,38; 253, 12-13, 19; 268, 6; 303, i, 6; ii, 11, 12. 

adligo and alligo—217a, 4; b, 2, 6; 218, 6-7; 250b, 10; 277, 11; 279, 20; 283a, 
26; 284, 29; 303, II, 3, 11; III, 2; V, 5. 

colligo—203, I, 6; II, 3, 11, 12; ITI, 2. 

deligo—199, 6-7; 217a, 4; b, 6. 

obligo—219a, 3, 12; 247, 9, 12, 15; 248a, 12; 250a, 2, 22; b, 12; 251, III, 2; 
256, 36, 37, 41; 253, 18, 50, 58; 268, 1; 275, 29; 277,11; 279, 20; 282a, 24; 283a, 
26; 284, 29; 295, 11,17; Winsch, Bonn. Jhbr., 1910, pp. 1 ff., No. 24. 

perobligo—250a, 2, 22. 

* impli[co] (Aud. 248a, 13-14). 
& Ep. iii, v, xvii; Sat. i. 8. 

Notes AND Discussions 227 

(Ann. vi. 32.7). Here there is stated the cold, matter-of-fact, physiological 
effect of poison. The transition from this to the erotic and poetical sphere 
of the stanza of Horace is easy if we remember that “aetas et corpus tenerum 
et morigeratio, haec sunt uenena formosarum feminarum’” (Afran. ap. 
Non. ii. 7.)! Horace therefore plainly but delicately tells his youthful and 
susceptible friend that he is “inligatum? Thessalis uenenis triformis 
Chimaerae,”’ much in the same way in which Keats’s knight-at-arms was 
made aware of the identity of his charming captor: 

. . . « La Belle Dame sans Merci 
Hath thee in thrall. 

Moreover, so potent was the spell that only a professional trafficker in magic 
or some god could set him free. To enlarge further would be superfluous, 
as the charm of femininity has become a stock idea not only of all modern 
literatures but of daily speech. The word ‘‘charm”’ itself gives the idea a 
magical setting. 

But let us consider for a moment the rejected interpretation—“tamquam 
draconis flexibus.” At a glance it can be seen that this involves physical 
contact,* a suggestion quite unnecessary here,‘ and, in our judgment, destruc- 
tive of the delicacy of the poem. To be sure, inligatum originally implies 
physical contiguity, but not so in the figurative sphere. Furthermore, it 
seems likely that Horace in his use of the word was influenced in large part 
by the Greek évdéw, which occurs frequently in connection with magical 
practices, and therefore figuratively: as ydpwv évédyoe dra (Soph. Oecd. 
Col. 526); dry évédnoe Bapeiy (Hom. ii. 11. 111); Josephus A.J. IV. vi. 5; 
VIII. ii. 5 (where variant readings are significantly évgddpeva and évdovpevor) ; 
éxdueBa, dvayxain évdedecpevoe (Her. ix. 16); évdedérPo. Spxios (iii. 19); 
peydrAos Spxas évdnoapeva Tov Katapatov moow (Eur. Med. 161-63). 

But still another point demands our attention. Most editors happen 
to leave with the reader the impression that they and Lucian Miiller® are 
single-minded in seeing in deus a reference to a major divinity only, as Apollo 
or Aesculapius, both of whom are credited with the use of drugs in healing. 
This arises, apparently, from regarding “Thessalis . . . . uenenis” as an 

1 Cf. Verg. Aen. i. 688. 

2 Inligatum merely seems to be structurally absolute here; see next note. 

*As adligare in ‘“‘amplexa suo manus meas adligauit’’ (Sen. Conir. i. 4. 9); 
[“uirginem] uictam deus fluuialis alligat unda’’ (Val. Fl. v. 28). But this verb often 
has the figurative meaning allied to that which in our passage we attach to inligatum, 
as Ter. Ad. 844 (cf. Don. ad loc.); Apul. Met. vi. 23; Claud. xxxvi, 258; Buech., 
Carm. Ep., 944. See further n. 4, s.v. 

‘This comes from needlessly linking together structurally inligatum and triformi 
Chimaera. In the other Horatian passages where inligo is used (Zp. i. 25; iii. 11) it is 
followed by forms that may be either ablative or dative; but the casual reader would 
probably feel them as datives. 

5 Oden und Epoden, II, 104. 

228 Notes AND DISscUssIONS 

ablative of instrument rather than of separation. Now it is undoubtedly 
the latter if our interpretation of inligatum be correct. Granting, then, 
that it is a question of loosing from the spell of Thessalian potions, we are 
not restricted in deus to one of the drug-using healing divinities. On the 
contrary, we may draw virtually on the entire pantheon, for the magician, 
being no respecter of gods save so far as his own immediate ends are served, 
is likely to call summarily on any god, of high or low degree, to cast or to 
dissolve a spell.! In the light of this explanation the four lines appear in 
style and structure as more worthy of the artist Horace. If deus points to a 
major divinity only, then the strength of the climax “saga .. . . magus 
. . . . deus” is nullified by the sudden fall to the level of Pegasus, who is, 
according to Horace’ own conception, not a thoroughbred deus but only a 
hybrid offshoot;? in short, the ladder would be broken at the topmost 
round. But with our interpretation the climax would produce the illusion 
of being heightened by the introduction of the name of Pegasus, for this 
would follow deus on the same level, as a “for instance” illustration.? From 
the point of view of fact the climax remains as it is, but from the point of 
view of effect, which is the chief concern here, the climax is most imposingly 

May we not now offer the following rendering of the stanza in question: 
“What witch, what sorcerer, what divinity can free thee from Thessalian 
potions? Even Pegasus will be greatly tasked to free thee, bewitched (with 
potions) as thou art, from the three-bodied Chimaera” ? 

W. SHERWwoop Fox 

November 22, 1912 


Prantl, in his History of Logic (I, 698), tells us that the technical expres- 
sion conversio per contrapositionem occurs for the first time in Boethius. 
Martianus Capella describes it as secunda conversio, and Apuleius (ibid., 585), 
though he has no technical term, explains that omnis homo animal is con- 
vertible as omne non animal non homo, which is also Boethius’ example. 
Galen (ibid., 569) uses the general term ivrucrpépov for the same form of 

In all this Prantl and all the Greek lexicons known to me have over- 
looked the Greek technical term dvructpody ov dvriOéoa from which the 

1 Winsch, Defizionum Tabellae Atticae, I, G, iii, 3, ind., p. 47; Aud. op. cit., ind., 

pp. 460-70; Fox, ‘‘The Johns Hopkins Tabellae Defixionum,” Am. Jour. Philology, 
XXX, 1, suppl., ind., p. 66. 

2 deorum sanguinem (Odes iv. 2. 13-14). 
* To object that Pegasus appears in no extant charm or counter-charm is idle, for 

Horace is here in a fun-making mood, a mood that brings to shape in poets’ minds many 
stranger conceptions than this. 

Notes AND Discussions 229 

Latin conversio per contrapositionem is plainly derived. It occurs in Olympio- 
dorus on Plato’s Phaedo 68B (Finckh, p. 88): dri ei pirdcodos, adens mpds 
tov Odvarov ei dé pay ddejs, ov dirdcodpos’ ow dvribécan yap dvrictpéde. 
Before Olympiodorus the expression can be followed through the Aristo- 
telian commentators as far back as Alexander; cf. Alexander in Analyt. 
Prior., p. 29, 10 ff., p. 46, 6 ff., p. 327, 1; idem in Top., pp. 191, 192; 
[Alexander] in Sophist. Elench., p. 49, 5 ff., p. 178, 1 ff.; [Ammonius] in 
Analyt. Prior., p. 68, 25 ff.; Philoponus in Analyt. Prior., p. 42, 9 ff.; idem in 
Analyt. Post., p. 174, 37; Anonym. Paraphrasis in Sophist. Elench., p. 15, 
23, 33; Elias in Cat. 179, 18. Alexander’s own use of it as a technical term 
is quite clear and explicit. He writes, for example, in Analyt. Prior., p. 
46, 5 ff: éori yap mporacews dvtiurtpody) Kowwvia mpordcewy Kata Tovs dvo 
dpous dvamadw TiWepevous peta TOV cvvaArnBevey. Grav pev ovv KaTa TO movdv dia- 
Pépworr, ai rowtrar dvtictpodai yiyvovrai te kai A€yovras THv mpoTdcewy civ 
dvréoa. drav 8 ai avral Kara Td rowdy dow, ai orws AapBavopevar Kai ovva- 
AnBevovoa. dvtistpodai xwpis dvtiBécews yiyvovra. I have not found it 
earlier than Alexander but have no doubt that it was in use. 

Its origin and the force of dvri@ec1s in this connection may, I think, be 
derived from certain passages of Aristotle. Aristotle was not unacquainted 
with this form of conversion, though Prantl seems to have overlooked it 
and Zeller explicitly says (II, 2, p. 225, n. 3): “Die Conversio per Con- 
trapositionem kennt er noch nicht.” It is clearly described in Topics, II, 8, 
113, 6 15; ofov, ei 6 dvOpwmros Lov, 7d wy LGov ov dvOpw7os, which it will be 
remembered is the very example of Apuleius and Galen supra. 

Elsewhere he employs the word dvriGeois in a way that may well have 
suggested the use we are considering. In Metaphysics 1055 b 32 év dyribéca 
is used of the alternative Aevxdv 7 od Aevxdv. More to the point is the 
description in Analyt. Prior., p. 32, a 32, of the equivalence of évdexduevov 
dva: and évdexopuevov py evar. Such propositions are said to be doa: xata- 
garikov Exover 7d oxHpa Kata THv dvtiMecw. In other.words, as Alexander ad 
loc. explains at length, the propositions as a whole are both affirmative in 
spite of the negative uy accompanying ¢elva: in one of them. That difference 
between ¢lvac and py elvar is indicated by the phrase xara tiv dvriBeow. 
Though affirmative as a whole they are internally antithetic in the opposi- 
tion of elvar to wy elvaz. It would only be a step further to speak of a con- 
version which required the addition of the negative as a conversion accom- 
panied by antithesis, civ dvriéoa. And this translated into Latin gives us 
the meaningless conversion by contraposition of the textbooks. 


tis obv otTw maxis Ti Yuxjv, Os od ovvinow Ste Si “Eppod pev Kai "Adpod- 
tys dvaxaXdeirar mdvTa mavTaxov Ta THs yevéerews ExovTa TS Evexa TOD mavTN Kal 
mdvTws, 6 TOD Adyou padora idiov €or. For 7d evexa rod, etc., read rd evexd 

tov (cf. Ar. Met. 10654 26 and De part. an. 6396 14). 

230 Notes AND Discussions 

The text is translated by Mau, Die Religionsphilosophie Kaiser Julians, 
p. 169, as follows: “Wer ist denn so stumpfen Geistes, dass er nicht begreife, 
wie durch Hermes und Aphrodite alles Werden iiberall aufgerufen wird, 
das den Zweck des Uberall und Durchaus hat, der dem Logos besonders 
eigentiimlich ist ?”’ But this is quite impossible both in sense and grammar. 
I doubt if any parallel can be found for the expression ro évexa rod ravrn, 
etc. On the other hand, it is familiar Platonic and Aristotelian doctrine 
that the things of generation, and especially the things of the organic world, 
are always purposive or teleological, have a final cause, a réAos or évexd 
tov (more frequently ot évexa), in Aristotelian terminology. The mis- 
understood zdvrn xai mavrws is merely characteristic Platonic, and still 
more neo-Platonic, intensity and fulness of expression, like ravra wavraxod 
above. What Julian says, then, is that Aphrodite appropriately represents 
the things of generation, and Hermes (Adyios) their purposiveness, which is 
a characteristic of Adyos. 

In the same oration, 166A, for the meaningless ovnévra 88 ody ds dAAov 
GAAy, GAN’ olov avrd eis Tovro trodepopevov, we must read, I think, airé «is 
€avr6, or rather avrov eis €avrov. This yields the paradoxical or “‘ Pickwickian” 
sense so dear to the neo-Platonic mind. The word cvméva is used, but 
we are warned not to take it in its normal meaning. God goes forth— 
yet abides. Gallus is united—yet not with another but with himself. For 
the phrasing cf. rpds atrynv . . . . €vnévacin Plato Tim. 58A. Philebus 32B: 
tiv & cis THY atradv ovciav Sdov, and my emendation of Tim. 57B from «is 
avira ty to eis abra ty which may be further supported by Hermias Irris. 7: 
eis 5¢ THY avTod piow éraviwv dnp; and by Diogenes Laert. viii 4: eis Eiop- 
Bov é\Geiv (of transmigration). 



Sir Arthur Evans’ argument (Syracusan “Medallions,” pp. 59-60= 
Numismatic Chronicle [1891], pp. 263-64) for Eumenés as the true form of 
the Sicilian die-engraver’s name seems to have carried more or less convic- 
tion to the minds of several numismatists. Mr. G. F. Hill, who, in his 
Handbook of Greek and Roman Coins, p. 194, impliedly commits himself to 
the form Euménos, in his Coins of Ancient Sicily (pp. 60-62) and in his 
catalogue of the Ward collection (Greek Coins and Their Parent Cities, 
pp. 41-42) writes “‘Eumenes.” Dr. Regling proposes (Sammlung Warren, 
under No. 369) to recognize Euménos and Eumenés as two different artists. 
In the new edition of the Historia Numorum Dr. Head—or is it Mr. Hill ?— 
gives us (p. 175; ef. pp. 116, 937) “Euménos or Euménes,’” apparently 
declining to assume two persons, but leaving the name to the choice of the 

The name, when not abbreviated, appears in the two forms EY MENOY 
and EYMHNOY. Is it necessary to remind scholars that the genitive of 

Notes aND Discussions 231 

Evipeévys is Eipévous? To be sure, the name of Eumenes II of Pergamum 
does appear in the genitive on one group of his tetradrachms in the form 
EYMENOY, but this is much later. In Attic inscriptions such forms occur 
only after ca. 350 B.c. (Meisterhans, Grammatik der attischen Inschriften, 3d 
ed., §53, 11). It is rash to assume this development at Syracuse in the fifth 
century B.c. If so, we must fall back on the simple old explanation, that 
Eumenos, living in a community which was only gradually adopting the 
Ionic alphabet, wavered between the older and the newer way of writing 
his name. Since the publication by Dr. Jacob Hirsch (Auctions-Catalog 
XIX, No. 252) of the tetradrachm with slow quadriga and the signature 
YONUMYG, it is impossible to assert, as Sir Arthur Evans did, that the 
engraver at the beginning of his career used the Ionic letter, H, in the 
second syllable of his name. 

It is true that the name Eumenos is not known to occur elsewhere. 
But, unique though it be, it is supported by the analogy of Everys and 
Eiyjpepos, as was pointed out long ago by Letronne. See Fick, Die griechi- 
schen Personennamen, 2d ed., p. 207. 

F. B. TarBe.n 


Plato’s Phaedo. Edited with introduction and notes by JoHN 
Burnet. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1911. 

Professor Burnet has given us the latest and best complete text of 
Plato, the best English treatise on the pre-Socratic philosophers, the best 
edition of Aristotle’s Ethics, and to these he now adds the best annotated 
edition of the Phaedo. By “best” I mean not the fullest or the most erudite, 
but the soundest, most accurate, and least misleading. In this edition 
as in his edition of the Ethics, Professor Burnet shows himself a master of 
the art of practically helpful annotation. In the combination of pertinency, 
precision, and brevity, his notes are models. He quotes precisely the relevant 
passage needed to bring out a point or clear up a difficulty, and quotes no 
more. Without making the interpretation of the Phaedo a pretext for 
grammatical disquisition, he sums up the conclusions of syntactical specialists 
in happy and convenient working formulas. Above all he seems to possess 
the instinctive right feeling for Greek idiom, the lack of which is the fatal 
defect in so much brilliant and ambitious work of our day. If these qualities 
sometimes seem to suffer temporary eclipse in the interesting but unveri- 
fiable speculations of the introduction, this is an accident most incident to 
philologians when they undertake to argue a thesis in the Aristotelian sense 
of the word. 

The detailed discussion of the questions raised by Professor Burnet’s 
introduction exceeds the scope of a reviewer. His general drift is to empha- 
size the Pythagorean element in Socrates and to attribute to him the doc- 
trine of Platonic ideas and much further metaphysics on the ground that 
Plato could not have misrepresented his master in so solemn and pathetic a 
work as the Phaedo. These theses have not won much acceptance as yet, 
and I find it difficult to believe that on reconsideration Professor Burnet 
himself will maintain that the use of dayév in Plato and Aristotle raises a 
very strong presumption that the speaker is professing adherence to a school, 
or that Aristotle is really contrasting Socrates with the “friends of ideas” 
in the Sophist, and not with Plato when he says that Socrates did not 
“separate” universals. Similarly I believe that his second thoughts would 
cancel the statement (p. xxxvi) that “the Strong Man which is the subject 
of the Gorgias . . . . is also the theme of the Heracles of Euripides.” This 
is a momentary concession to the fallacy of the capital letter as practiced 
by a school of philology to which Professor Burnet does not belong. Surely 
the Heracles of Euripides is, in the words of Jebb (Trach. XI), “the strong 


Book REVIEWS 233 

man who secures peace to the husbandman and an open path to the sailor,” 
while the strong man of the Gorgias is the Nietzschian superman who refuses 
to be bound by bourgeois morality. They are both undoubtedly “strong,” 
but to identify them as a theme of fourth-century discussion and debate is 
pure equivocation. The Cyclops and the Phoenissae offer remote parallels 
to the Callicles of the Gorgias, but the only strong man of the Heracles in 
this sense is the tyrant Lycus, to whom, I presume, Professor Burnet does not 
intend to refer. But waiving further discussion of the introduction, I will 
conclude by submitting to Professor Burnet’s consideration a few dissenting 
judgments from some of the statements of his admirable commentary. 

61 A 3: dirogodias . . . . ovons peyiorns povowns. The argument 
that this is distinctively Pythagorean doctrine is supplemented by Platonic 
parallels that will not bear scrutiny. In Laws 689D the “fairest harmony 
which would rightly be called the chief wisdom” is the harmony of belief and 
practice. And this so far from being “quite different from the metaphor” 
in Laches 188 D 3 is in moral effect virtually identical with it. There, 
says Professor Burnet, “the povowxds dvjp is he whose character is tuned 
in a noble key.” But Plato is much more specific than that. The true 
musician is ypyoopévos airos abrov tov Biov avpdwvov Tois Aéyos mpds Ta 
épya, which is in substance the statement of the Laws. 

In 65 D it is surely misleading to say that ris otoias, “the reality,’ 
means the same thing as ryv mavrwy ovciav in Cratylus 401 CD, which 
refers to the essence or nature of the world or things as a whole. In 69 AB, 
in the famous comparison of ¢pdvyos to the true voyucpua, he brackets as 
interpolations the words xai rovrov pév mdvra and dvovpevd te xai 
murpacxopeva both for the sake of the sense and because “it is hardly 
credible that Plato should use dvoveva as passive or mumpackopeva. at all.’’ 
This requires him to pronounce mmpackopevny in Sophist 224 A 3, which 
Campbell retains, an interpolation also. I do not believe we know that 
Plato could not have used mimpackopeva, but it would be easy to substitute 
GA\Aarropeva. At all events, these omissions destroy Plato’s characteristic 
fulness of edifying expression and leave a curtailed sentence, the inadequacy 
of which is disguised by the rendering ‘When accompanied by this [i.e., 
wisdom] our goodness really is goodness.”” Where in the Greek do we find 
the first “goodness”? What Plato says is that wdvra (that is, all action 
and conduct) when so accompanied and so bought and sold (that is, 
exchanged, tested, measured) become true virtue. The meaning if not 
the precise syntax of this construction is repeated below in the words 
xupopeva .... Kal dddarropeva.... py oKuypadia tis y TowvTH 
dpern. The objection then “that we are not supposed to buy and sell 
goodness for wisdom” falls to the ground; and in any case that kind of 
argument presses the image too hard. The passage'is a characteristic 
Platonic protest against two ideas: (1) the idea that pleasure, not dpdvycis, 
is the measure or standard; (2) what is virtually the same thing, the idea 

234 Boox REvIEws 

that there is no absolute standard, but things or acts are weighed against 
one another in that mere Heraclitean relativity; which Plato combats in 
every department of thought. Cf. Theaetet. 160B, addAnAos yiyvecba, 
182 B apis GAAndo. In 74D he reads } évdet te éxeivou ta Towdrov 
‘ ¢lva olov rd ioov as the “dative of that in which one is deficient.” This 
is very harsh with the articular infinitive. I would emend évdet ri éxeivors 
rov—they (i.e., ra év rois €vAos) lack something of being such as 76 igov. 
In 82E he interprets Sevérns as “cleverness,” “ingenuity”: would it not 
be confined to persons in this sense ? 

The harmony passage (93) and the final proof of immortality (103-5) 
are too complicated for discussion in my space. Much qualification is 
required of the statement (93 A) that ‘Olympiodorus representing the school 
tradition is quite explicit” in affirming that Plato’s argument rests on the 
hypothesis that harmony does not admit of degree. Olympiodorus gives 
also another interpretation incompatible with this which I think is more 
nearly right. Similar qualification is needed to the statement in 105 D 
that the assumption that the soul itself is a form or «dos is not required 
by the argument. Plato is not explicit; but the argument requires the soul 
to be an immaterial entity indissolubly associated with the idea of life, 
What save an idea can be thus indissolubly bound up with an idea? Cf. 
Rep. 476. 

I am pleased to observe on 99 D the statement that dvra are things in the 
ordinary sense of the word; on 99 E that there is not any justification in 
Plato’s writings for contrasting Socratic Adyo. with Platonic «dy [cf. my 
“‘Tdea of Good in Plato’s Republic,” University of Chicago Studies in Classical 
Philology, 1, 236; A.J.P., IX, 304], and that it is not really the case that 
the Adyo are mere images of ra dvra [cf. A.J.P., IX, 304]; and on 101 E 
the note: ‘‘éwi ru ixavdv that is to an dpyy which no one will question.” 
I had feared that the opposite doctrines were too firmly established in English 
opinion to be dislodged by argument. Professor Burnet discreetly eschews 
polemic; cf. my “Idea of Good in Plato’s Republic,” University of Chicago 
Studies in Classical Philology, I, 230-34; and A.J.P., X, 45. 

Paut SHoREY 

Lucian, with an English Translation. By A.M. Harmon. Vol. I. 
“Loeb Classical Library.” New York: Macmillan. $1.50. 

It required no little courage to undertake a new translation of Lucian 
so soon after the admirable work of the Fowlers. But to judge by this 

1 T cannot suppose that by the words ‘This is not necessarily an dpxy} dvumd0eros 
Rep. 5106 7” Professor Burnet meant to imply that he differs from me on this point, 
though a careless reader might infer that he did. On p. 233 I explain both the ixavéy 
and the dyvré@erov by willingness ‘“‘to push the argument back until some common 
ground is reached,’”’ and on p. 234 I enter an explicit caveat against the supposition 
that I intend a literal and mechanical identification of expressions which I pronounce 
virtually equivalent in their logical function. 

Boox REvIEWws 235 

first volume, the quality of Mr. Harmon’s version will more than justify 
its existence. It is quite as readable and racy as that of the Fowlers, and, 
as befits a Loeb translation, follows the text more closely than their purpose 
required them to do. Mr. Harmon is generally very happy in rendering 
idiom by idiom, and technicality by technicality; his descriptions vie with 
the original in aptness and variety of phrase, and in the turning of scabrous 
passages he exhibits a periphrastic ingenuity worthy of a purer cause. 
The explanatory and critical notes, though brief, are helpful, to the point, 
and up to date, and will make this edition of value even to scholars. 
Mr. Harmon evidently knows his Lucian. Errors and oversights are very 
few. I give what I believe to be a nearly complete list of his mistaken or 
disputable renderings: 

Lapiths 26: mpis xépw aire oiveotw is not “likes to be with him” but 
is an indulgent (over-complaisant) tutor; cf. Demosthenes’ zpos ydpu 

Ibid. 28: otf av éumapacyeiv éavtov Trowovrw twi does not refer to 
Aristaenetus but to Hetoemocles, and means not “he would not expose him- 
self to any such treatment,’’ but “he, the philosopher, would not condescend 
to [take part in] such [a festivity].” 

Ibid. 30: dws mperBurixa‘, not “how senile” but, ironically, “how 
worthy of an elder.” 

A True Story i. 32: éwet 3: Sn eOddes rH SuatpiBy eyevoueOa, not 
“when we finally tired of this pastime,” but rather “when we had become 
wonted to the place.” 

Ibid. ii. 1: +7 pov is, of course, not “loneliness” but “delay.” 

Ibid. ii. 7: mdpevov is, of course, not aorist “after taking a dose of 
hellebore,” but future. The hellebore is a part of the treatment to be 
given by Hippocrates. 

Ibid. ii. 23: kai 7d mpdcwmrov drperros jv, not “kept his face to the 
front,” but “did not change color or countenance.” 

Phalarisi. 4: xai civ pOdvw xaparnpov, not “when attended by jealousy; 
a burden,” but “both burdensome and invidious.” 

Dionysius 7: dwvy te Aaurpa is not quite “a splendid flow of language.” 

Heracles 4: qiArdcodos oluat ta émywpu is rather “learned in local 
antiquities and mythology” than a “scholar from the native standpoint.” 


Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Metaphysik des Aristoteles. 
Von Dr. WERNER WILHELM JAEGER. Berlin: Weidmannsche 
Buchhandlung, 1912. M. 5. 

It is not certain that Aristotle’s Metaphysics as it stands is more badly 
composed that the second part of Wilhelm Meister. But Goethe has told 
us how Wilhelm Meister was eked out and filled up to meet the demand for 

236 Book REviews 

additional copy. For the composition of the Metaphysics we have no such 
revelations. We do not know how much of it Aristotle intended to make 
part of a consecutive treatise, how much he may have interpolated or added 
from earlier or later lectures, or lastly what detached papers his editors may 
have arranged under the comprehensive rubric ra pera ta gvorxa, the 
things after physics. 

These are the problems which Dr. Jaeger undertakes to solve by 
sheer force of philological analysis. The little book A éAarrov is apparently 
an introduction to general physics, and its omission does not break the 
connection between Books A and B. Book A, a specimen of a lexicon of 
equivocal philosophical terms, could be easily spared, and the apparent 
cross-references to it in other books may, like other cross-references in the 
Aristotelian treatises, be kept or explained away according to the exigencies 
of the interpreter’s thesis. There is, however, pace Dr. Jaeger, no necessity 
for dropping this book. Aristotle is at any time liable to digress on his 
favorite topic of wodAax@s Aeyoueva. And as all metaphysics is largely an 
abuse of equivocal terms, we need not scrutinize too closely the artistic 
relevancy of a special book on the subject in a metaphysical treatise. Wher- 
ever inserted, it would seem to interrupt the continuous argument. It would 
be an appropriate but very dry and unimpressive introduction to the whole 
work, and placed at the end it would be an anticlimax. 

Similar considerations pro and con apply to Book I, which treats of the 
one and the many and the ideas of opposition and difference—traditional 
topics of metaphysics already in Plato. The first part of Book K reads like 
either a résumé or a preliminary sketch of BTE. Doctor Jaeger accounts for 
the peculiarities of the style and the un-Aristotelian use of ye ynv by the 
hypothesis that it is a student’s notes of an independent shorter course of 
lectures. ‘Wie oft wird Aristoteles iiber Metaphysik gelesen haben.” 
Perhaps. But this chapter is a striking illustration of the superiority of 
negative over affirmative arguments in these uncertain matters. Dr. 
Jaeger’s twenty-page refutation of Natorp’s theory that K 1-8 is spurious 
and Platonic is the best piece of reasoning in his entire book. Nearly every 
point is well taken, and his interpretations of the text against Natorp are 
in nearly every instance, I believe, right, and are usually supported, I may 
add, by the excellent translation of Ross. The second part of K, chaps. ix 
to xii, is an extract sometimes almost verbatim from the Physics. Book A 
in its main content seems to crown the edifice by connecting the abstract 
ontology of the metaphysics with the prime mover of the de caelo on the one 
hand, and the self-thinking vots of the de anima on the other. But the 
interrelations of these ideas are so confused and tentative in statement 
that, despite the immense historical influence of the book, it is quite possible 
to deny that Aristotle really intended to complete his system on these lines. 
Furthermore, the style of the book is in many places that of memoranda or 
excerpted notes, while in others it rises to religious eloquence. It is open to 

Boox REVIEWS 237 

argue, then, that we have here notes of an early work never really intended 
for this place, or that, on the contrary, the book is the unfinished sketch of a 
final philosophy which Aristotle was either unable or unwilling to complete. 
In any case, if A as it stands concludes the main metaphysical argument, 
Books M and N, which deal minutely with the history of and the polemic 
against the doctrine of ideas and ideal numbers, must be either a gross anti- 
climax or an appendix. 

Dr. Jaeger is certain that these last two books could not have been 
intended for their present place. He explains away the anticipatory refer- 
ences to them in 1037 a 10, and 1042 a 22, and sets up the thesis that together 
with Book I they belong in the main series of metaphysical lectures instead of 
ZH®, which have usurped their place. His thesis rests on an exaggeration of 
the degree and kind of consistency to be expected in a metaphysical treatise 
which I have no space to controvert. I can only test its application in this 
place. His first argument is that Books ZH® treat of aic@yri) oiia, which 
Books MN regard as belonging to physics, not metaphysics. He writes 
(p. 110): “Dass Aristoteles M. 1, 1076 a 6f. und M. 9, 1086 a 21 f. nicht so 
sprechen konnte, wie er es tut, wenn Z-® vorhergingen, bestreitet weder 
Brandis noch Bonitz, noch ist es iiberhaupt bestreitbar.” Let us see. 
Book M begins (1076 a 1): ‘‘We have discussed the ovoia of aicOyrd in 
respect to their matter or potentiality in the physics and in respect to their 
energy [actualization or form], later.” What is meant by “later”? Trans- 
lators and commentators generally refer it to ZH@, and they are probably 
right. At any rate, in Z 11, 1037 a 10 ff. Aristotle tells us that the purpose 
of his analysis of the relation of matter and form in aic@yrai oicia is to 
prepare the way for the discussion of the problematical existence of other 
kinds of ovcia wholly beside and independent of matter. For, he adds, 
the study of aic@yry ovcia belongs in a fashion to physical and secondary 
philosophy. Aristotle then recognizes this fact as clearly in Z as in M. 
The absolute separation of physics and metaphysics which Dr. Jaeger seems 
to demand was no more possible for Aristotle than it is for us, and there is 
no reason for postulating a main series of metaphysical lectures from which 
all consideration of aic@yrai otcia. was excluded. 

In 1086 a 21 the matter is still plainer. Dr. Jaeger overlooks the limit- 
ing word povys, with which cf. pdvov, in 989 b 22. Aristotle says in effect: 
“The opinions about first principles, causes, and elements of those who dis- 
cuss only aio@yr ovcia have partly been set forth in the Physics and in part do 
not belong to the present method.” Those who discuss only aic@yr} oicia 
are clearly the materialistic pre-Socratics, who are considered not only in the 
Physics, but in the historical review in the first book of the Metaphysics, 
where it is also said that they pertain properly to physics (989 b 21-3). 
They of course do not belong to a “method” especially reserved for the 
study of alleged immaterial ideas and numbers. But Dr. Jaeger is hardly 
justified in first referring the designation ris peOodov ris viv to the whole 

238 Boox REVIEWS 

subject of first philosophy, and then assuming that the exclusion of pre- 
Socratic materialists from metaphysics here is incompatible with Aristotle’s 
discussion elsewhere in the Metaphysics of the problem of matter and form 
in aic@yrai ovoiu or his treatment in A of the “divine” aic@yr) ovcia 
of the heavenly bodies and the spiritual powers that move their spheres. 
Aristotle himself tells us, on the contrary, that the aim of codé is to 
explain 7a davepd, and his chief objection to Platonism is that its assumption 
of immaterial ota‘a contributes nothing to such an explanation (992 a 24 ff.). 
More weighty is the casual suggestion that the topics of ZH® are rather the 
preparation for, than the main body of, a metaphysical system. But the 
answer to this is that all metaphysics and especially the metaphysics of 
Aristotle consist mainly of introductions and preparations and false starts 
and recapitulations. 

A final proof of the impossibility of admitting ZH® in the same series 
with A and MN is said to be that Z regards the ideas as not yet refuted 
whereas they have been explicitly refuted in A 8-9. But every reader is 
aware that Aristotle always regards the ideas as sufficiently refuted for a 
sneer (repericpara) and sufficiently an open question for a renewal of the 
assault upon them. Z regards the ideas as unrefuted only in the sense that 
it keeps returning to the attack, and this is almost equally true of MN. I 
am not arguing for the retention of MN in their present place, but only 
against the throwing-out of ZH® on insufficient grounds. I do not think 
that we have evidence enough to determine the history of MN; but what 
we have points to them as an appendix especially reserved for the more 
detailed discussion of ideas and numbers. 

The numerous repetitions and awkward transitions in the Metaphysics 
supply Dr. Jaeger with material for a great many more ingenious minor com- 
binations which it would require a volume as large as his own to test. There 
is a certain plausibility in the general assumption that variant doublets 
represent substituted or alternative lectures in repeated courses. But he 
often finds such doublets where we probably have nothing more than the 
natural self-repetition of a hurried metaphysician possessed of some fixed ideas, 
but uncertain of his goal. Twice in A 7 Aristotle triumphantly proclaims 
that the pre-Socratics had suggested no idea of cause not included in his 
own classification. There is nothing surprising, then, in the recurrence of 
this complacent remark in A 10. By dzopiau Aristotle sometimes means 
objections to the systems he is criticizing and sometimes the problems which 
they suggest for his own thought. His use of the word supplies no basis for 
theories of the construction of the Metaphysics. He is at any time capable 
of using the same word in different senses in the same paragraph. There 
are few writers whose style will less bear pressing by the rigor of philological 

But though I am unable to share Dr. Jaeger’s confidence in the power of 
pure philological analysis to reconstruct with certainty the composition of 

Boox REvIEws 239 

the Metaphysics, no student of Aristotle can fail to derive a great deal of 
instruction and stimulus from his close grappling with the many problems 
presented by the text as it stands. Especially interesting is the second part, 
entitled ‘‘Die literarische Stellung und Form der Metaphysik,” which is 
elaborated, evidently under the influence of von Wilamowitz, into some- 
thing like a systematic history of the delivery and publication of professional 
lectures in antiquity. 
Pavut SHoREY 

Sophistik und Rhetorik. Das Bildungsideal des ed Aéyev in seinem 
Verhaltnis zur Philosophie des V. Jahrhunderts. Von H. 
Gomperz. Leipzig: Teubner, 1912. Pp. vi+292. M. 10. 

The writer, who must be distinguished from his father, the author of 
Greek Thinkers, has chosen for his special domain the border-land of philoso- 
phy, rhetoric, and sophistic in the fifth and fourth centuries. The main 
thesis of the present volume is that sophistic was in its essence rhetoric— 
the theory and practice of the art «3 Aéyev—and that all philosophic, 
scientific, or other special interests which modern historians of philosophy 
attribute by tradition to the fifth-century Sophists are to be taken in strict 
subordination to this dominant end. In confirmation of this presumption, 
he undertakes a broad and somewhat prolix survey of the extant tradition 
as conveniently collected in Diels. Gorgias’ treatise on Nature or the Non- 
existent is not a serious exposition of critical skepticism, but the maintenance 
of a paradoxical thesis in the style and the logical divisions of his Praise 
of Helen and his Defence of Palamedes, the genuineness of which Gomperz 
defends at length. Thrasymachus did not teach the ethical nihilism attrib- 
uted to him by Plato. The famous fragment to the effect that the gods do 
not concern themselves with human affairs since men obviously make no 
use of justice must have been a mere jest of one of the irepBaddAovres or 
exaggerating discourses. The Thrasymachus of the first book of the Republic 
is merely a dramatic representative of an unknown contemporary attacked 
by Plato—the author of the Clitophon which Gomperz thinks was written 
about 390. This unknown writer, after there exposing the negative and 
unsatisfactory character of all Socratic definitions of justice, probably went 
on in a lost supplement to the Clitophon to develop as his own definition 
the formula which Plato attributes to Thrasymachus—that justice is the 
advantage of the stronger. 

Antiphon the Sophist is to be distinguished from the orator. Though a 
student of Empedocles, he is not properly speaking a philosopher; he is the 
rhetorician of the elevated commonplace, as Gorgias is the rhetorician of 
the paradox. The predominance of the merely formal over the substantive 
interest in Hippias, the Anonymus of Iamblichus, and the Dialezeis is easily 
demonstrated. Prodicus’ advanced course in synonyms was not a scientific 

240 Book REVIEWS 

study of semasiology, but a practical guide to the use of the effective word 
in oratory and debate. His Choice of Heracles was doubtless an edifying 
discourse for young men to hear, and to that extent he, like other Sophists, 
“taught virtue.” But this is not enough to constitute him either an ethical 
philosopher or a moral idealist of the Socratic or Platonic type. 

Some twelve pages of Diels suffice for the collection of all that antiquity 
has told us about Protagoras. Gomperz’ comment fills some hundred and 
fifty pages of his book. He is not the first and will not be the last to write 
at inordinate length about Protagoras, and I mention the fact, not by way 
of censure, but as one more illustration of the paradox that philologists 
tend to enlarge their treatment of a subject in the inverse ratio to 
available evidence—rois puxpois wéyefos mwepiOeivax. We have no means of 
reconciling the seeming contradiction between the dialectic helplessness of 
the Protagoras of the dialogue which bears his name and the subtle psy- 
chology of the apology attributed to him in the Theaetetus. The probabilities 
can be stated in a paragraph. The systematic exposition of a coherent 
doctrine of relativity and positivism, or pragmatism as the fashion of the 
day calls it, is probably a Platonic development of suggestions latent in 
isolated Protagorean paradoxes and epigrams. On this point Gomperz 
seems to agree with me against his father, as he does in maintaining that 
Protagoras would have hardly distinguished between the generic and the 
individual interpretation of homo mensura, though if option is forced, we 
must decide for the individual interpretation. But though he believes that 
the systematic form of the exposition is Platonic, he thinks it possible to prove 
that the main doctrinal content is Protagorean. In the details of this 
demonstration I cannot follow him. His conclusion is that Protagoras is 
the only Sophist who is at the same time an original philosophic thinker. 
Yet the philosophy even of Protagoras is merely an introduction to, or a by- 
product of, his rhetoric. The principle of relativity and the universal 
anthesis of the two logoi are symbols and reflections of the opposing theses 
and arguments in rhetorical debate. 

Into this rhetorical world of beautiful plausibility Socrates enters with 
the questions: How is the thing really? What is the truth of the matter? 
The development of these questions by Plato and Aristotle opposed a new 
ideal of scientific education and culture to the purely formal ideal of the 
Sophists. Yet (p. 290) “‘so wire Platon nicht Platon geworden, hiitte er nicht 
die erfinderische Vielseitigkeit des Gedankens und die kiinsterlische Vollen- 
dung der Sprache von den Sophisten tibernommen und sie in den Dienst 
der socratischen Postulate gestellt.”’ 

The style is readable and the book is full of interesting suggestions. It 
is, however, by no means free from the false point-making, straining of evi- 
dence, forced parallels and perverse ingenuity which are the bane of present- 
day philology. As I have harped perhaps too often upon this string, I will 
here confine myself to one example. On page 164 the author argues that 

Book REVIEWS 241 

the verbal coincidence of the Dialexeis and the pseudo-Platonic mepi dixaiov 
in the expressions év r@ déovre and xarp@ prove beyond a doubt that both 
used a common fifth-century source, and further justifies the conclusion 
that the wept dixaiov belongs to about the first decade after Socrates’ 
death, and that its doctrine of xaspds is derived not from Gorgias but from 
Protagoras. Now as a matter of fact (1) almost any Greek writer could 
use those innocent expressions and xa:pds is one of the earliest of Greek 
commonplaces; (2) they are not found together in the Dialezeis, but xapo 
occurs in number 2, and éy déovr. in number 4; (3) the epi dixaiov is 
steeped in Platonic reminiscences, and if its author required a source for 
év (r@) Séovre he could have found it in Rep. 414B, as he could have found 
his similar application of ér’ ddedrcig in Rep. 389B and 334B, and as he 
could have found in Symp. 181A the entire thought (though not the words) 
of the argument that no act is good or bad in itself, but only through the 

manner of its performance. 

Luciani quae feruntur Podagra et Ocypus. Praefatus edidit commen- 
tatus est JOHANNES ZIMMERMANN. Lipsiae: in aedibus B. G. 
Teubneri, MCMIX. Pp. 82. 

These two short pieces in verse have led a shifting existence, now accepted 
by some editors as legitimate Lucianic offspring, now rejected by others as 
supposititious twins, while by a smaller number of commentators their 
claims have been differentiated and the Tragopodagra alone admitted to the 
list of the author’s genuine writings. Few, even of seasoned Lucian students, 
have cared to give them much more than cursory attention. Most readers 
are well content to reject them as spurious or to accept them apologetically 
as indicative of the advanced senility of the ex-rhetorician, dropping into 
verse as he shuffled into his grave. 

M. Croiset, however, after admitting (La vie et les euvres de Lucien, p. 
84) that these two dialogues alone would never have won immortality for 
the writer, adds: ‘Mais il y a de l’esprit, du trait, et ce genre d’enjouement 
ironique et moqueur qui lui était propre. Nous n’avons donc pas de raison 
suffisante pour les déclarer apocryphes.’”’ A verdict based upon such grounds 
from a writer usually so keen to detect the true Lucianic hall-marks would 
have greater weight were it not that an attentive reading of the two pieces 
brings out so clearly the jejune banality of the Ocypus, both in matter 
and manner, that it would seem probable that M. Croiset has transferred 
the merits, belonging to the Tragopodagra alone, to his estimate of both on 
the ground that they must stand or fall together. 

It is just here that Zimmermann’s monograph forms a real contribution. 
He dissociates the two, claiming that the Tragopodagra is genuine and the 
Ocypus spurious, and proceeds to examine them with somewhat meticulous 
Teutonic detail and occasional over-emphasis of nonessentials. 

242 Book REvIEws 

In the preface Zimmermann gives an account of the nine codices upon 
which he mainly relies. Then follow: the Greek text of the two pieces, 
with critical notes; a general commentary; statistics and analysis of the 
meters; analysis of the vocabulary employed; literary reminiscences and 
imitation; discussion of authorship. 

The choice of readings and the emendations of the text are, as a rule, 
well considered (though on Pod. 19 wd@os for répovs seems hardly warranted). 

The general notes contribute items of interest, especially the observa- 
tions on the meters of the chorals in the Tragopodagra, which may well be 
Lucian’s handiwork, either as reminiscent of Anacreontics or as mocking 
imitations of the curtailed anapaests—“ Hinkanapaests,” i.e., ending in an 
iambus—current in the second century after Christ, or of the so-called 
dactylic “hexametri miuri’”—i.e., with an iambus substituted for the last 

In the case of the parody of the conventional tag appended to four plays 
of Euripides (which Zimmermann somewhat carelessly speaks of as an 
imitation of Euripides himself), it might have been some slight reinforcement 
to his contention for the genuineness of the Tragopodagra to cite the con- 
clusion of Lucian’s Symposium. 

Zimmermann’s notes on the Ocypus—a composition: denuded of any 
choral charm, marred with false syntax, late forms and vocabulary, and 
devoid of any suspicion of humor—prepare us for his subsequent verdict 
against its genuineness. The use, however, of wot for wrod (line 68), estab- 
ishing, as it does, Euripidean reminiscence, need hardly be cited as a “‘not- 
able” slip. 

The minute discussion of metrical details not only establishes greater 
carelessness on the part of the author of the Ocypus but indicates that the 
metrical habits of the writers of the two pieces were divergent. 

Although in summing up the vocabulary of the Tragopodagra there is 
given a somewhat formidable list of Ionic! forms (justified, however, by 
tragic coloring) and of words not elsewhere used by Lucian, yet Zimmer- 
mann’s contention is not unreasonable that this would be quite in keeping, 
in verse composition, with Lucian’s well-known characteristic of employing 
a special vocabulary for a specific purpose. Both the bad syntax and the 
inane repetition of dull expressions present in the Ocypus, are at least 
inconspicuous in the Tragopodagra. The conspectus of reminiscences from 
the Tragedians is not very convincing but the tragic coloring of the vocabu- 
lary in the Tragopodagra is evident. 

The argument from the order observed in the various codices is ingenious 
and adds weight to the rejection of the Ocypus. Lucian’s satire of his con- 
temporaries is perhaps responsible for the Orphic suggestions and perhaps 

trv, Tragopod. 10, is ignored. Compare Lucian’s experiment with imitating 

Ionic in de dea Syria if this, as is at least possible, be accepted as Lucianic contrary 
to the general opinion. 

Boox REvIEws 243 

for the further use of the current fashion of unusual metrical schemes. As 
Zimmermann suggests, the Carmen Diophantis also employs the “cholana- 
paests”’ in introducing a sufferer with the gout. 

One phase, as it may seem, Zimmerman develops insufficiently. While 
he does emphasize the mocking satire upon the orthodox gods in the claims 
put forth by Podagra, and in one sentence briefly remarks: ‘Nec sane 
Podagra fabula tam facete composita Luciani ingenio indigna est,” yet he 
might well have supplemented the more obvious suggestions of vocabulary 
and meter by a fuller discussion of the delicate criteria of Lucian’s humor 
which may, perhaps, be detected in the Tragopodagra. 

Although the argument that Lucian would not have repeated this same 
theme in a second piece seems hardly cogent in view of the many instances 
to the contrary in the Lucianic canon, the inferior character of the Ocypus 
itself is made out well enough. 

Zimmermann, finally, tries to prove that the Ocypus was written in the 
year 364 a.p. by Acacius the friend of Libanius. This is based on a reference 
in one of Libanius’ letters to a “witty” piece on this theme which Acacius 
had sent him. Since Acacius and Libanius were both at this time victims 
of the disease, it would perhaps be only charitable to think of them as already 
sufficiently punished without attributing to the one the authorship or to the 
other the commendation of this jejune piece. 

If the Ocypus was really written by Lucian, and not by Acacius or some 
other unknown author, we must assume that the gout had by this time 
attacked him in both feet. In the T'ragopodagra he limps, indeed, but can 
still bustle about like Hephaestus with his cup of humor not wholly emptied. 

Francis G. ALLINSON 

Die Dioskuren als Retter zur See bet den Griechen und Rémern, und 
thr Fortleben in christlichen Legenden. Von Karu JAIstE. Dis- 
sertation. Tiibingen, 1907. 

This dissertation is divided into two parts: a good collection chrono- 
logically arranged of the references in Greek and Latin literature and inscrip- 
tions to the Dioscuri as protectors on the sea, and a discussion of the supposed 
survival of these gods in Christian saints. The former has considerable value 
as a collection of material; the latter is of little worth. 

In the Iliad and Odyssey, as every reader of Homer knows, Castor is 
only a master-driver and Polydeuces a master-boxer. But in the Homeric 
hymn 33, which probably belongs to the sixth century B.c., the brothers 
appear (vss. 6 ff.) with their later function fully developed: they are owripes 

. » €myOovinvy dvOpdrwv dxurdpwv te veov. Thenceforth they have this 
office clearly defined in Greek literature and in Latin poetry influenced 
by the Greek, without losing their general character as horsemen who assist 

men in time of battle or of other need. This specialization of function can 

244 Boox REvVIEws 

hardly be explained in the simple way suggested by Jaisle (p. 4). It is 
quite possible that the Jliad and Odyssey in this matter, as elsewhere, show 
us only one phase of current thought, and that the belief in the Dioscuri as 
general protectors and helpers may have developed at a period anterior to 
- the Homeric epics, although it was hardly inherited from the ‘‘Indo-european 
period.” On this point Jaisle should have consulted not Myrianthus, but 
Charles Reuel, L’évolution d’un mythe, Agvins et Dioscures, Paris, 1896—a 
book from which he could have learned much. Nor should he have neglected 
Oldenberg, Religion des Veda, 50, 207-15. 

The paucity of dedications to the Dioscuri in their special office is strik- 
ing. Jaisle gives three Greek inscriptions (JG, IV, 1279; VII, 1826; XIV, 
2461), all of the Roman period; the two Latin (CIL, VI, 413; XIII, 3026) 
are not certainly to the point. 

So far as the second part of this dissertation is concerned it had better 
not have been written. There is no proof that the martyrs Castor and 
Pollux, or the saints Castor of Coblenz, Polyeuctus of Melitene, and Phocas 
of Sinope (who is related to Priapus!) have anything to do with the Castor 
and Pollux of pagan legend and belief. On the other hand, Peter and Paul 
in Naples inherited certain functions of the Dioscuri with their temple— 
Peter opening, Paul closing the floodgates of heaven. 

The long delay in noticing this dissertation has been due in large measure 
to an oversight on the part of the reviewer, for which he would express his 

Cuirrorp H. Moore 

Xenophontis Scripta minora. Fasciculus posterior opuscula politica 
equestria venatica continens post Ludovicum Dindorf edidit 
Franciscus Rurenyt. Accedunt Simonis De re equestri quae 
supersunt. Leipzig: Teubner, 1912. 

Of the six essays of Xenophon contained in this volume we now have 
three at least, the Hipparchus, the Cynegeticus, and the De re equestri, in a 
much less corrupt form than when the first Teubner edition appeared. 
This is due to the rediscovery by Ruehl of the Codex Vaticanus Graecus 
989 (V), which contains all three and is far superior to those previously used, 
and to the finding of Codex Vindobonensis iv, 34 (W), containing the Cyne- 
geticus and the De re equestri, an authority reckoned superior even to V. 
On the basis of these two codices, together with the inferior class, a group of 
Italian scholars, Cerocchi, Tommasini, and Pierleoni, have published in the 
Weidmann press separate editions of the Hipparchus (1901), the De re equestri 
(1902), and the Cynegeticus (1902), which have received the unanimous praise 
of the reviewers. Pierleoni has also given us an excellent edition of the 
Respublica Lacedaemoniorum (1906). The De vectigalibus, then, is the only 
one of the six which has not recently been given the dignity of a separate 

Book REVIEWS 245 

edition,’ the Respublica Atheniensium, of course, having received abundant 
attention, the last edition being that of Kalinka (1898). 

The present volume gives us all six together in handy form and adds the 
De re equestri of Simon. The editor, Fr. Ruehl, has been known as a student 
of Xenophon for more than thirty years. He has made new collations of the 
principal MSS and many others have been placed at his disposal. His own 
labors, aided by the editions just referred to, have given us a reliable critical 
apparatus and as satisfactory a text as we are likely to have. A full and well- 
selected list of conjectural emendations accompanies the variant readings. 

In the Respublica Atheniensium Ruehl has gone farther than Kalinka in 
inserting emendations in the text. This course is defensible where, as is so 
often the case here, it is perfectly clear what the writer intended to say, and 
the text is unreadable without the insertions. It is perhaps unfortunate 
that the same brackets are used for insertions (1) that merely restore the 
sense, without the exact words being attainable, for those (2) where the 
exact words are supplied by the context, and for those (3) which are given 
by Codex Mutinensis, though Ruehl is no doubt right in denying to that 
Codex the authority given it by Kalinka. 

As between V and W, Ruehl does not hold the latter so highly as Pierleoni 
and Tommasini. It is difficult to approve his course in the proemium of the 
Cynegeticus, which is lacking in V, and in which the inferior MSS contain 
several passages not found in W. Ruehl does not here follow W. However, 
a decision based upon one’s critical judgment of the inserted sentences rather 
than upon the relative value of the MSS is particularly difficult in a chapter 
of such peculiar style as this one. Ruehl, by the way, nowhere in this 
edition expresses his opinion upon the Xenophontine authorship either of the 
Respublica Atheniensium or of the first and last chapters of the Cynegeticus. 

Elsewhere he has taken the conservative point of view. 
A. G. Larrp 

M. Tulli Ciceronis Orationes (Cum senatui gratias egit; Cum populo 
gratias egit; De domo sua; De haruspicum responso; Pro Sestio; In 
Vatinium; De provinciis consularibus; Pro Balbo). Recognovit 
brevique Adnotatione Critica Instruxit GvLIELMvs PETERSON. 
Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1910. Pp. 306. 2s. 6d., paper; 
3s. 6d., cloth. 

M. Tulli Ciceronis Orationes (Pro Tullio; Pro Fonteio; Pro Sulla; . 
Pro Archia; Pro Plancio; Pro Scauro). Recognovit brevique 
Adnotatione Critica Instruxit ALBERTVs Cvrtis CLarRK. Oxford: 
Ciarendon Press, 1910. Pp. 188. 2s., paper; 2s. 6d., cloth. 

Principal Peterson gives in the short introduction to his volume a very 
brief history of the critical battle that has raged about the four orations— 
1 Pierleoni has included this with two or three of the others in an Italian edition. 

246 Book REVIEWS 

Post reditum in senatu, Post reditum ad Quirites, De domo sua ad Pontifices, 
and De haruspicum responso (-is)—and an equally short discussion of the 
Codex Parisinus (P) and the relation of the rest of the manuscripts (B, &, 
G, E, H, 5, 6, c, k, 8) to it. He argues in favor of the genuineness of 
- the controverted four speeches and bases his text, with but few conjectures, 
on P. 

With the publication of Mr. Clark’s small volume the Oxford edition of 
Cicero is completed. This editor’s scholarship has contributed much to 
establishing the text of Cicero, and this latest contribution will be weleomed 
by all students of the great orator. 

He devotes a considerable part of his introduction to the interesting story 
of Petrarch, his Ciceronian studies, his zeal in copying and diffusing manu- 
scripts of his works. He establishes two families of Cicero manuscripts—a 
German and a French. The former, including T, E, G, ¢, z, is at almost 
every point superior in quality, though the latter family boasts a larger 

In keeping with the general plan of the series, a brief critical apparatus 
with the most important variant readings is found at the bottom of each page. 


Ausgewahlte Komédien des T. Maccius Plautus fiir den Schulgebrauch 

erklart von Julius Brix. Zweites Bandchen: Captivi. Sechste 
Auflage bearbeitet von Max Niemeyer. Leipzig und Berlin: 
B. G. Teubner, 1910. Pp. 117. M. 1.40. 

Niemeyer has now thrice revised Brix’s well-known edition of the 
Captivi. Formerly, he was restrained, he says, by Pietdét; now the revision 
“ist... . griindlicher gewesen.” He is still, however, profoundly impressed 
by Brix’s acumen and scholarship, and gives generous attention, in the Anhang, 
to his views. 

In this revision the Hinleitung has been entirely rewritten, and the 
commentary has been brought up to date. Thus, there are references in 
the commentary to the recently discovered fragments of Menander. Again, 
much space is given to the views set forth in 8. Sudhaus’ Der Aufbau der 
Plautinischen Cantica, published at Leipzig in 1909. To the cantica of the 
Captivi Niemeyer has enthusiastically applied Sudhaus’ schemes; in his 
brief Vorwort he exclaims: “Und siehe da, ich fand sein Gesetz iiber den 
Stollenbau durchaus bewihrt.” He sent his results for the Captivi to 
Sudhaus, and found, to his delight, that Sudhaus had reached the same 
conclusions; in all this he sees striking confirmation of Sudhaus’ theories. 
Attention may, however, be called here to Leo’s objections to these theories, 
voiced in Gétt. Gel. Anz. for 1911. 

Book REvIEWws 247 

The Einleitung covers only 10 pages. There is no discussion here of 
the meters; in this respect the book is far less valuable, even when rein- 
forced by the treatment of the meters in Niemeyer’s edition of the Trinum- 
mus, 14-25, than Lindsay’s editio maior of the Captivi (London: Methuen, 
1900), with its masterly survey of the meters, 12-102, which gives control 
to tyro and scholar both of all the work done on Plautine meters up to that 
time. The comparison of the two books here is not unfair, since “ Biicher 
fiir den Schulgebrauch erklirt,’”’ such as Brix’s editions of the plays of 
Plautus and Dziatsko’s of those of Terence, are in reality works of high 
scholarship, making real contributions. In his brief outline of the plot, 
on p. 1, Niemeyer tries, unsuccessfully, I think, to meet one criticism of the 
plot of the Captivi. He asserts that such exchange of identity as we have 
in our play must have been common enough: “Ein vornehmer Gefangener 
war ein Kapital. Da galt es zu iiberlisten; solche Verabredungen zwischen 
Krieger und Waffentriger mochten wohl vorkommen.” But, I ask, assum- 
ing that our captives could have foreseen Hegio’s proposal, where lay the 
profit of such Verabredung for them? Here we have no effort whatever at 
Ueberlistung: Philocrates keeps his bargain faithfully. We had better accept 
the device of the exchange of identities as one that leads to very pleasing 
results, however little it will bear coldly logical examination. Niemeyer 
rates the Captivi highly; he does not refer to Professor Morris’ suggestion 
(Introduction, pp. xxxvi-xxxvii) that Plautus had sadly misconceived his 
original, and had in particular vulgarized the character of Hegio. On 
pp. 4-5 Niemeyer discusses Plautus’ disregard of geographical accuracy; 
he might have referred to my remarks in Classical Philology, II, 14, note 1. 
There are, further, interesting remarks on the relation of Plautus to his 
original; the genuineness of the prologue to the Captivi is defended, in 
particular against Ritschl’s arguments based on the theory that there were 
no seats in the theater in Plautus’ time. In the account of the editions of 
the Captivi there is one very curious omission: no reference is made to 
Lindsay’s text (“Oxford Classical Text Series’’), published in 1903. 

There is not space here, unfortunately, to discuss the notes throughout 
in detail. A good commentary has been improved; there is a long array 
of excellent notes, and an equally long array of notes that, whether they 
command assent or not, will stimulate thought. I shall confine myself, 
in the rest of this review, to the passages of which Niemeyer has made 
special mention in his preface. , 

In 201 Niemeyer reads (CA. Oh Oh Oh) LO. Eiulatione haud opus est: 
oculis aciem minuitis. Brix had read oculis multam iram editis. The MSS 
give multa oculis multa miraclitis. Evidently palaeographical considerations 
do not trouble Niemeyer. Because in Awl. 795 ei mihi is followed by cur 
eiulas? and in Mer. 624 heu me miserum! is followed by omitte flere, Niemeyer 
concludes “also ist’ bei eiulatio wohl auch an Trinen gedacht.” But a 
reference to weeping by our captives comports ill with their bearing 

248 Book REVIEWS 

throughout the play; see especially 262. The phrases cited by Niemeyer 
in support of his oculis aciem minuitis do not help him at all. That 
Plautus’ phraseology must be respected in emendation even Professor 
Lindsay needed to learn; in Truc. 804, following Kampmann, he reads a 

‘form of dono donare: Plautus’ phrase, as Professor Lodge’s Lexicon Plautinum 
has shown, is invariably dono dare (20 examples). In Cap. 201 the reading 
in Lindsay’s editio maior, oculis multa mira aitis, is less bad than Niemeyer’s, 
though I cannot believe it Plautine. 

In 215 B-17 Niemeyer reads TY. Obnoxii ambo vobis sumus propter hanc 
rem, quom, quae volumus nos, copiast, ea < fide> facitis nos compotes. Lindsay 
(editio maior, Oxford Text) had all this except fide; Goetz-Schoell mark 
the last line as corrupt. Here again I cannot follow Niemeyer, who merely 
says: “ea fide, quam concedendo, abeundo praestatis.” Why insert words 
so freely? Further, how does the notion of good faith find an entrance here ? 
The captives have been in no position to strike bargains or exact promises. 

In 772 Niemeyer reads Nec quoiquam homini supplicare <nec deo> 
nunc certumst mihi. Editors have long sought to alter this line, in accordance 
with their theories of the meter. Brix, after Geppert, had changed nunc 
to nunciam; Lindsay, editio maior, has proved this change inadmissible. 
I do not think any change needed. Certainly, Niemeyer’s is inadvisable; 
it imports into the parasite’s words a defiance of heaven he shows nowhere 
else in the play, and which is not justified by the context. If the MSS gave 
nec deo, then indeed we could readily see with Niemeyer a fine Steigerung 
and a contrast to the thanks just given to Iuppiter supremus. But, as the 
text stands, we get an even finer contrast, that between the helpful Iuppiter 
supremus who has so substantially aided Ergasilus—and mere man, to whom 
he surely bowed the knee before (see his long lament on that subject in 
461-97) but to whom hereafter he will render no homage. 

In 880-82 Niemeyer reads HE. Et servolum (sc. vidisti) meum Stalagmum, 
meum qui gnatum surrupuit? ER. Nai ray Kopav. HE. Iam <ho>die 
ER. Nai rav Ipawéornv. HE. Venit? ER. Nai rav Scyviav. HE.Certon’? 
ER. Nai rav ®pvowova. HE. Vide sis. The MSS give tam diu. Editors 
commonly supply with iam diu the verb venit. But this can have no mean- 
ing. If venit is to be supplied at all, then Professor Morris was right in 
declaring the text corrupt. Niemeyer’s text means (he too supplies 
venit), “Is he come back so soon?” By “he” Niemeyer understands 
Philocrates! On this arbitrary and wrong procedure he bases the following 
comment: “So fragen wir alle mit dem begliickten Vater, doch—den Poeten 
bindet keine Zeit.” He might have referred to the short passage in the 
introduction (p. 3), in which he declares that he emended in 882 to make it 
plain that Plautus himself was aware of the one downright impossibility 
in the play—the return of Philocrates on the same day: ‘Das wird auch 
durch die Unglaiubigkeit des Hegio und durch einen iiberreichen Schwurap- 
parat des Bearbeiters prichtig und griindlich unterstrichen.” To all this 

Boox REVIEWS 249 

there are many answers. Plautus cared nothing at all about such matters. 
His indifference to matters of art everybody knows; if illustration of it 
must be had, see e.g., my remarks in Classical Philology, II, 14, note 1, II, 6, 
note 1. Further, after 880-81, Stalagmum meum qui gnatum surrupuit? 
the only possible subject of the verb venit in 882, as read by Niemeyer, is, 
not Philocrates at all, but Stalagmus. Between Philopolemus and his 
father’s thoughts two other personalities have come—Stalagmus and the 
boy lost twenty years before. Jam hodie <Stalagmus venit>, “Has Stalag- 
mus come back so soon?” is wildly absurd. To the father’s heart the 
twenty years of Stalagmus’ absence had been a long, long time (compare 
the implications of the prologue and of 759 ff.). There is also a grievous 
psychological flaw in Niemeyer’s text and introduction. Plautus knew 
humanity, if he did disregard art; he knew too well the soul of a father 
bereft to make him think, when face to face with a great and unexpected 
joy, the recovery of a long-lost son, of the trifling and irrelevant question of 
the possibility or impossibility of making a given journey in a given time. 

It is, moreover, entirely possible to keep the manuscript reading. Pro- 
fessor Elmer nearly saw the truth. He gave the traditional text, but had 
the acumen to connect iam diu with the preceding surrupuit. Let us bring 
this out by proper punctuation, by putting a dash after surrupuit, instead 
of a question mark; Ergasilus cuts in while Hegio is speaking. The effective- 
ness of the passage could be brought out far more easily in acting than on 
the printed page. What Niemeyer has to say about the Schwurapparat 
applies equally well to the manuscript text, as just interpreted. 

On 912 A (912 B in Niemeyer), which is given only in A, in a sadly 
corrupt state, Lindsay, editio maior, remarks that Studemund showed that 
in this part of the Captivi A had many more verses, perhaps forty more 
than appear here in the other manuscripts. In 911 ff. Niemeyer inserts two 
whole verses; in 912 (912 B in his numbering) he inserts several words, mak- 
ing the verse readable. In 912 B his text strikes me as unhappy, in that it 
produces a very ineffective hysteron proteron. The insertion of verses 
to fill up the gap in A in this part of the play is an entertaining exercise for 
those who like that sort of thing, but the results are not likely to carry con- 
viction to others. If anyone doubts this, let him compare the readings of 
Cap. 907, before the Ambrosian palimpsest was clearly deciphered here, with 
the text of that verse as now given in all the editions!! See Halledie ad loc. 


Etudes sur le style des Discours de Cicéron. Avec une esquisse de 
Vhistoire du “Cursus.” Par L. LavRanp. Paris: Hachette. 
Pp. xxxix+388. Fr. 7.50. 

In the first of the three books into which this work is divided the author 
examines the language of Cicero’s speeches; in the second, his use of clausulae; 

250 Book REvIEws 

and in the third, the different types of oratorical style. He has evidently 

made a careful study of Cicero’s rhetorical treatises, especially of the Orator, 

and in his analysis of the speeches compares practice with theory, repeatedly 

demonstrating how Cicero, in some point of style or choice of diction, has 
- adhered strictly to principles expounded in his rhetorical writings. 

While the work is based on an original investigation of the speeches 
themselves, Laurand has made himself familiar with the results of the 
innumerable monographs and articles that have been published on various 
phases of the subject. He examines conflicting views with a nice discrimi- 
nation. He is fair in judging other men’s work, and for the most part his 
decisions are sound. The range of his studies may be inferred from the 
elaborate bibliographies (more than thirty pages in all) with which the 
volume is equipped. Where he has not been able to get any of the books or 
articles listed, he says so. This fact in itself makes his bibliography unique. 

The Introduction discusses the question whether the form of the orations 
when published adhered to or differed from the form in which they were 
originally delivered. Laurand believes (p. 12) that there was, for the most 
part, but little change. He denies the story related by Dion Cassius,! and 
regards the changes that undoubtedly were made in the Pro Milone before 
publication as exceptional. His reasons for rejecting Dion’s story are sound, 
but it is extremely doubtful whether the modifications in the Pro Milone 
constitute a unique case. They are probably exceptional in their extent, 
rather than in their kind. Laurand does not establish his point here. He 
does not of course dispute the fact that most of the speeches were written 
after delivery. 

In chap. i the author speaks of the care which Cicero exercised in the 
choice of the words used by him in the orations. To demonstrate the 
purity of the orator’s vocabulary, he gives a series of lists: one containing 
the words occurring in quotations made by Cicero, but not used by him in 
his own speeches; another giving the words used in his poems, but not in 
his speeches; and others comparing the vocabularies of the letters and the 
rhetorical writings with that of the orations. These lists are carefully 
compiled, and will be found useful in some forms of lexical study, but they 
only bear upon the question of Cicero’s discrimination in the choice of 
vocabulary in a general way. They do not prove anything except that 
Cicero recognized the fact that different departments of literature have to 
a certain extent their own vocabularies; and this point is too patent to 
require so elaborate an array of evidence. 

The second book deals with the quality of numerus, under which term 
are included all those elements which are intended to contribute to harmony 
of speech. In the section on alliteration (p. 113) it is shown that Cicero, 

1 Hist. Rom. xlvi. 7. 3, where Calenus addressing Cicero in bitter invective in 

the Senate says: # ofec rid dyvoetv Sri undéva rSv Oavyacrdy cov robrwy doywv ods 
éxdédwxas elpnxas GAXd wdvras adrods uera Tara cvyyéypagas. 

Boox REVIEWS 251 

realizing that he had used this device too frequently in his early days, 
employed it but rarely in the period of his best speeches. In regard to hiatus 
Laurand points out that there is no inconsistency between Cicero’s theory 
as set forth in Orator xliv. 150, in which he urges the avoidance of hiatus, 
and his practice as exemplified by such passages as De Imperio Pompei 51, 
where in the course of eight lines there are thirteen examples of a final 
followed by an initial vowel. For it was the orator’s custom to blend the 
sounds of the two vowels (vocales coniungere). He did this in delivering an 
oration as regularly as in reading a poem. But the chief element in oratorical 
harmony was the clausula, and Laurand’s discussion of this constitutes the 
most important part of his book (pp. 143-218). He shows that Cicero’s 
use of clausulae accords with the principles laid down in the Orator. He 
does not set forth any new theories, but by his analysis and criticism of the 
work of Zielinski and others succeeds in bringing out forcibly the elements 
of truth that lie at the base of all the theories proposed. The treatment, 
which is characterized throughout by a sound common-sense not often found 
in discussions of this question, is easily the best introduction to the study of 
clausulae that we have. 

The third book, which deals with the different kinds of style, is inferior 
to the other two; the material collected is less important and the treatment 
is sketchy. 

G. J. Lane 

Das Plagiat in der griechischen Literatur. Von Dr. Epwarp STemp- 
LINGER. Preisgekrént von der Kgl. Bayerischen Akademie der 
Wissenschaften zu Miinchen (Marz, 1911). Leipzig: B. G. 
Teubner, 1912. Pp. vi+293. 

The book was written, as we may say, to order; that is to say, to obtain 
the prize offered by the Munich Academy for a treatise on the following 
theme: “Plagiarism in Greek literature, investigated with regard to philo- 
logical research, rhetorical and aesthetic theory, and the literary practice of 
antiquity.” Agreeably to instructions the successful treatise falls into three 
parts: I, Ancient Philological Research Relative to Plagiarism; II, Rhe- 
torical and Aesthetic Theories Respecting Plagiarism; III, Ancient Literary 

Part I treats (1) of the sources of the literature dealing with xAozai, 
discussing in some detail the contributions of commentaries on individual 
authors, of books dealing with etpyyara, of personal polemic, of scholia 
and compilations, and of pseudepigraphic literature; (2) of the treatises 
wept kXowns, Whether referring to special authors or having a general scope, 
giving the texts of the well-known sections of Porphyry and Clement of 
Alexandria, and considering them with reference to their sources and their 
classifications. Part II discusses (1) the development of literary technique, 

252 Boox REVIEWS 

relating the theoretical evaluation of gvo.s and réyvy and the practice of 
the schools with the traditio (rapadoois) of form and matter; (2) rhetorical 
training and the influence of rhetoric, reading, and paraphrase; (3) literary 
imitation (uiépnows) with its emphasis on form and relative indifference 
to matter, and the requirement of bettering one’s instruction and the rules 
of stylistic pipnows; (4) plagiarism in the strict sense. Part III treats 
(1) of the manner of indicating authorship or sources, (2) verbatim quota- 
tions, (3) free rendering, (4) unconscious borrowing. The upshot of it all 
is that, since there was neither a legal nor a clear moral recognition among 
the Greeks of rights of property in literary matters and since above all 
anything published was considered as thereby made publici juris, there 
really was no plagiarism; such reprobation as was felt toward the xAérrys 
was that which one accords to the bungler, and the charge of plagiarism 
was generally prompted by animosity or by some other ulterior motive. 
The book as a whole is useful, but there is much in it which is well nigh 
useless. Perhaps one ought in charity to phrase it differently, and say 
that the author did what seemed to be required of him, his not to reason 
why. If the subject had been treated in not to exceed one-third the number 
of pages, leaving the first part very much as it is (though that also might 
have been curtailed) and reducing the other parts to a bare outline state- 
ment with a few particularly interesting or illuminating instances or points 
by way of illustration thrown into footnotes, the service of the author would 
have been quite as great and the appreciation of the reader would certainly 
have been enhanced. As it is we receive elaborately spread before us 
morsels for the most part already tasted, with not enough that is fresh 

added to serve as tizer. 
e Tve as an appetizer W. A. Heme 


Kleine Schriften. Von Hermann Usener. Erster Band: Arbeiten 
zur griechischen Philosophie und Rhetorik. Grammatische 
und text-kritische Beitrige. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1912. 
Pp. vi+400. 

This volume, edited by Professor K. Fuhr, is according to the prospectus 
the first of a series of four destined to contain Usener’s opuscula and originally 
projected by the author’s son-in-law, Professor A. Dieterich. Since the 
latter’s premature death the execution of the plan has devolved upon others, 
pupils and friends of Usener’s. Of the remainder, Vol. II is to contain the 
Latina; Vol. III, publications concerned with literary history, epigraphy, 
chronology, and book reviews; Vol. IV the lesser contributions to the study 
of religion. It is to be hoped that the remaining volumes will be promptly 

In a brief preface Professor Rademacher sets forth the plans of the 
editors with regard to the publication of the opuscula and pays a warm 
tribute to the character, scholarship, and inspiring instruction of Usener, 

Boox REVIEWS 253 

and Professor Fuhr speaks of his editorial procedure in this volume, drawing 
attention in particular to the numerous additions derived from the author’s 
own copy and inserted in the text in square brackets. One article, “‘ Epiku- 
reische Schriften auf Stein,” was omitted because superseded by later and 
more careful readings of the inscriptions on the monument of Diogenes of 
Oenoanda. The contents, arranged under twenty-one heads, each—except- 
ing the last, which unites a half-dozen reviews—presenting a single essay 
or article, are printed in the main in chronological order beginning with 
the Quaestiones Anaximeneae (1856) and closing with De Stobaei Loco (1900). 
Five ample indices facilitate reference to matters and passages discussed 
and give an ocular demonstration of Usener’s phenomenal versatility and 
knowledge in detail. 

There are scholars of undeniable light and leading, whose labors as 
teachers and authors contribute appreciably to the volume and direction of 
the current of thought in their time without producing anything worthy 
to be set definitely apart in collected form as a milestone of human progress 
and a monument of individual achievement. But there are others, and 
assuredly Usener was one of the number, whose impact is so solid as to mark 
beyond question the force of a great personality and give rise to movements 
the understanding of which imperatively demands the study of their origi- 
nator’s life and works as a whole. With all his exemplary command of 
the technique and fundamental material, which constitutes the ideal equip- 
ment of a classical scholar, Usener, however devoted to the mastery and 
quest of detail, was essentially a pathfinder and guide bent on the conquest 
of new ground with a broader outlook. This bent, pursued with the iner- 
rancy of instinct, bore perhaps its most characteristic fruitage in studies 
which in accordance with the editorial scheme are assigned to the later 
volumes of his opuscula; but it may be seen likewise in the first. His 
Quaestiones Anaximeneae, written before he had attained the doctorate, 
carried him deep into a complex problem not yet determined; but, whatever 
the final issue, it is conceded by all that he made a lasting because solid 
contribution to its solution. Again, his dissertation, Analecta Theophrastea 
(1858), opened a large question and led directly to the dissertation of Diels 
and the Doxographi Graeci, with the consequent revolution in the evaluation 
of nearly all secondary sources of information respecting the lives and opinions 
of Greek philosophers. The volume presents also the aftermath of Usener’s 
rich harvest of research into the works of Epicurus published in his Epicurea 
(1887), which directly or indirectly occasioned the editions of Stoic and other 
philosophers and indeed of Diels’s Fragmente der Vorsokratiker. But it 
is needless to go into further details. Suffice it to express our thanks to 
the painstaking editor for presenting in thoroughly satisfactory form a 
work which has been a desideratum of every classical scholar. 


a nb A 


254 Boox REvVIEws 

Le Credenze d’Oliretomba nelle Opere Letterarie dell’ Antichitd Classica. 
By Carto Pascau. Catania: Francesco Battiato, 1912. Pp. 
xii+263 +262. 

This work, in two volumes, is divided into chapters as follows: Vol. I: 
I, “The Fate of Death”; II, “The Under-World’”’; III, ‘The Sovereigns 
of the Under-World and Their Minister”; IV, “The Death-God”’; V, “The 
Religion of the Tomb”; VI, ‘‘Dei Manes”; VII, “The Cross-Roads of 
Fate”; VIII, ‘Immortal Death and Second-Death’”; IX, “The Last 
Judgment”; X, ‘Eternal Punishment and the Rest of the Damned”; 
XI, “Sin and Its Punishment on Earth”; XII, ‘Homeric Eschatology”; 
XIII, ‘The Tradition of the Homeric Eschatology in Religious Belief and 
in Literature”; XIV, “‘The Mystic Apotheosis”; Vol. II: XV, “Mythical 
Departures to the Under-World and the Descriptions of Hades”; XVI, 
“Visions of the Other World and the Narratives of Revenants’”; XVII, 
“The Vergilian Inferno”; XVIII, ‘‘The Other World in Greater Imitators 
of Vergil”; XIX, ‘‘The Pains of Hell in Popular Tradition”; XX, “The 
Elysian Fields”; XXI, “‘The Purification of Souls”; XXII, “The Vergilian 
Purgatory”; XXIII, “Destruction and Restoration”; XXIV, “The Lot 
of Great Souls after Death”; XXV, “The Deification of Caesar and 

The general title and the chapter-heads sufficiently indicate the scope 
of the book. Non-literary sources are excluded from consideration; but 
the data of literature, primary and secondary, are well digested. The work 
is essentially a compilation, but withal a very useful one for the student who 
desires a general survey of the field and the necessary references to enable 
him at need to prosecute his own researches in detail. This does not imply 
a full bibliography, but only sufficient for an introduction to the subject. 
It would be unjust to exact more than the author has chosen to offer; the 
book is unpretentious and semi-popular, but well serves its purpose. 

W. A. Here 


M. Tulli Ciceronis Cato Maior de Senectute Liber. Recensuit Caro- 
Lus SimBeck. Leipzig: Teubner, 1912. Pp. 60. 

The text of this edition of the Cato Maior takes into account all the MSS 
mentioned by Moore in his edition (1903) and, in addition, two Laurentian 
MSS, Me (S XII) and Mb (S XIV), one at Milan, D 13 (S XIV), and one 
at Cornell University, C (S XV). These, however, as well as all the other 
late MSS, the editor considers of no independent value and their readings 
are rarely cited. Complete collations are given for the five early MSS, 
P, V, b, L, A, which are described at length in the introduction: especial 

Boox REVIEWS 255 

attention is given to b (Bruxellensis 9591), a MS used by Moore and others, 
but first cited in full in this edition. In attaching great importance to b 
Simbeck follows Vollmer, to whom he dedicates his work. These five 
important MSS are divided into two groups, P, V (from the same original), 
and b, L, A: L and A are derived from a lost MS copied from the same 
original as b. Each group has been corrected from the other. In support 
of these conclusions the editor gives lists of parallel readings which serve 
their purpose adequately, although the effect of the readings which are 
decisive is weakened by the insertion of many which are not. 

The later MSS, of which the most important is K (Vaticanus Reg. Suec. 
1762), are derived from b or A, but they have been cross-corrected from one 
or more additional MSS, and in these corrections Simbeck finds their value, 
since they sometimes show the origin of the readings of the good MSS. 
The exact relationship of most of the minor MSS is shown by a stemma 
which differs materially from that constructed by Tomanetz in articles 
(Vienna, 1883 and 1886) mentioned by Simbeck, which I have not been 
able to obtain. 

The text itself is conservative, with few emendations admitted. I have 
noted only three by the editor, of which the most important is Karthagini 
quom (K. cui MSS), § 18. This is natural, since the nearly equal value of 
several MSS and the elaborate cross-correcting that has taken place makes 
the construction of the text of the Cato Maior a choice between readings 
rather than a field for original conjecture. In common with most editors 
Simbeck regards P as of chief importance. He holds that Mommsen and 
Mueller gave too much value to L, though the difference between his edition 
and that of Mueller is not primarily due to that opinion. He inclines to 
accept the consensus of several good MSS against any one MS, even against 
P or against P+minor MSS. To this tendency are due in a considerable 
degree the differences between this edition and those, for example, of Reid 
and Mueller. On the whole the text most nearly approaches that of Moore, 
though it is somewhat more conservative in adopting conjectures. 

Readings of other editors and conjectures are rarely cited. 

The editor is consistent in writing -undus in the gerund and gerundive, 
o after u and », and wu before labials (libidinum, p. 22. 2, § 7, is apparently 
aslip). Misprints are rare, e.g., ataque for atque, p. 31. 6, § 29; necutiquam 
for neutiquam, p. 38. 1, §42. If artiwm in the phrase bonarum artium magistri, 
§ 29, is not omitted by mistake, the reading given is peculiar and unsupported. 

The ancient testimonia and references for quotations in the text are 
printed at the foot of the text. There is an index of proper names. 

The value of the edition lies in the critical apparatus, particularly the 
collation of b, and in its convenient arrangement. 


Smita CoLLeGE 

256 Boox REvIEws 

Technologie und Terminologie der Gewerbe und Kiinste bei Griechen 
und Rémern. Von Huco Butmner. Erster Band. Zweite, 
ginzlich umgearbeitete Auflage. Leipzig und Berlin: B. G. 
Teubner, 1912. Pp. xii+364. M. 17. 

After an interval of nearly forty years Professor Bliimner is issuing a 
revised edition of his authoritative work on the arts and trades of the Greeks 
and Romans, the first volume of the first edition of which appeared in 1874. 
The new archaeological material which has come to light since the first 
compilation of his work has afforded much more information along certain 
lines than we possessed then, and the studies of experts in various fields, 
embodied in such works as the Pauly-Wissowa Real-encyclopddie and the 
Daremberg-Saglio Dictionnaire, to say nothing of almost countless scattered 
articles, have claimed the author’s consideration. On the other hand, little 
that is new has been added to our knowledge of some few of the topics 
treated by Professor Bliimner. The second edition, then, in some sections 
presents an entirely new and rewritten text, in others the words of the 
original edition are repeated with additions, and a few sections are kept 
practically unchanged. 

Vol. I contains eight subheads: the preparation of bread; the manu- 
facture of fabrics; sewing, embroidering, and felting; dyeing; the preparation 
of animal skins; the making of plaited wares; paper (papyrus) manufacture, 
and the production of oils and unguents. The greatest improvement over the 
first edition, aside from the fact that it has been brought up to date, lies in 
the additions to the illustrations, which number 135 against 53 in the old 
edition. Most of those formerly used are retained, but the new cuts are far 
superior in clearness and pertinence. Half-tones from photographs of terra 
cotta figures and groups, reliefs, vases, and ruins comprise the majority of 
these additions. 

The more important supplements to, and revisions of, the text come 
in the sections on bread-making, spinning and weaving (the latter of which is 
practically new), paper manufacture, and the making of olive products. 
A new classification of varieties of wheat into wupds oyrdvos and supis 
oemdaXirns, Summer and winter wheat, is adopted (pp. 52 ff.), and is carried 
out in distinguishing the varieties of meal and bread (pp. 74 ff., which are 
practically new) among both Greeks and Romans; and in the classification of 
peeled grains the fundamental distinction is pointed out between the true 
and false varieties, yévdpos over against yidpa and xpiuva. Such enumera- 
tions and classifications of technical terms are an especially valuable feature 
of the new edition, as they were of the old, and their present greater exact- 
ness enhances their value. 

In the chapter on spinning and weaving the most important changes 
come in the discussion of xarayya, looms, and the technique of weaving. In 
the first edition (p. 106) xdrayya is mentioned as wool already spun, but no 

Boox REVIEWS 257 

account was given of it as the product of a special process, the preliminary 
rolling of the wool against the bare or clothed leg to prepare a rough yarn 
that could be more readily spun. In the new edition (pp. 112 ff.) the process 
is described and illustrated; the passage is based largely on the article of 
Hauser in the Jahreshefte d. Osterr. archdol. Instit. XII (1909), 80 ff. 

In the discussion of the loom and weaving, Professor Bliimner now 
accepts and incorporates in his text (pp. 148 ff.) the theory that the making 
of the “natural” and the “artificial” sheds for the introduction of the shuttle 
was accomplished, respectively, by means of the xaAapos, dividing the odd 
and even threads of the warp, and by the xavwv, to which the alternate threads 
were fastened, and which the weaver, like the woman in Iliad xxiii. 760 ff., 
draws toward the breast to change the relative position of the two sets of 
warp threads and to form the “artificial shed.” This was adopted, after 
discussion, in the first edition (p. 130, note 1). The illustrations and 
description of a loom from the Faroé Islands (pp. 155 f.) add much to the 
clearness of the exposition. 

The discussion of purple manufacture and dyeing has been retouched; 
one of the most interesting additions is the mention of the photochemical 
changes that occur in the making of the dye-stuff (p. 242), which have been 
investigated by De Lacaze-Duthiers. On the preparation of papyrus, too, 
Professor Bliimner, in view of recent investigations, has added to the material 
presented in his first edition. In some cases he has taken advantage of the 
opportunity to insert material available at the time of his first edition but 
not found therein—e.g., p. 315, n. 3, on the first occurrence of the word xaprn 
and the illustrations of the monument of the baker Eurysaces (pp. 39 ff.). 

There are a few typographical errors in the book, of which the most 
serious is the dropping of a line between pages 308 and 309. A self-contra- 
dictory statement is made in the description of Fig. 51 by printing ‘“‘Spindel” 
instead of “Wocken” in p. 133, line 7. 

As it now stands, Professor Bliimner’s treatise is the best repertorium 
of technical terms of Greek and Roman handicrafts, and of the loci classict 
bearing thereon, and its account of the manufacturing processes leaves little 
to be desired. With the addition in the present edition of adequate pictorial 
illustrations and extremely careful explanations of them, this exhaustive 
collection of information on ancient trades and arts may well continue to be 
the standard handbook of scholars for another forty years. 

FRANK EGLeston Rossins 

Conditional Statement in Livy. By R. B. Stente. Leipzig: Brock- 
haus, 1910. Pp. 61. 

This work belongs to the class of those which are valuable chiefly as a 
collection of data. It is essentially a catalogue of the conditional sentences 

258 Boox REVIEWS 

in Livy, designed apparently to be complete. The material is arranged for 
the most part under a purely formal system of classification with the follow- 
ing main rubrics: I, Direct Discourse: A, Indicative Protases, (a) Indicative 
Apodoses (hereunder the grouping is by tense, thus: present-present; present- 
perfect; present-future; present-future perfect; perfect-present; perfect-perfect, 
etc.); (b) Subjunctive Apodoses (with subclassification by tense as above); 
(c) Imperative Apodoses (tense as above). B, Subjunctive Protases (with 
(a), (6), (c) as above, and corresponding subgrouping by tense). At this 
point are interpolated the clauses introduced by sin (and sin minus, sin 
autem), in both direct and indirect discourse. II, Indirect Discourse (with 
subgrouping by tense). III, A, Parenthetic Conditions. Under this rubric 
the author combines the formal categories of classification with other forms 
of description, such as ‘‘a sort of causal interjection giving the piously or 
politely assumed basis of action” (si dis placet, si videtur, st vultis, si licet, 
etc.), and “polite substitutes for direct relative clauses,” as iniurias si quae 
forte fuerunt. Here he groups separately conditions introduced by nisi and 
especially nisi quod, adding as a pendant to them the frequently occurring 
clauses introduced by praeterquam quod. Sec. III, B, Comparative Con- 
ditional, is again formally subdivided (quasi, tamquam, velut, ut). The 
enumeration concludes with III, C, Concessive (1 quamquam, 2 etsi, 3 etiamsi, 
4 quamvis, 5 modo dummodo). Some statistical tables are given. The work 
appears to bear clear evidences of the influence of the method of investigation 
elucidated in Morris’ Methods and Principles of Latin Syntax. The work of 
collection and collation appears to be done carefully and conscientiously. 
Although the author has here and there interspersed comments and observa- 
tions, most of those who use the book will value it chiefly as presenting a 
broad panorama of Livy’s usage of conditional sentences. 


Latin Terms of Endearmeni and of Family Relationship: A Lezxico- 
graphical Study Based on Vol. VI of the Corpus Inscriptionum 
Latinarum. By Samuet GLENN Harrop. Princeton Disser- 
tation. Princeton, N.J.: The Falcon Press, 1909. 

The purpose of this dissertation is “to gain from a study of the Latin 
inscriptions additional information in regard to the use and meaning of two 
groups of words: terms of endearment and names of family relationship.” 
It is based upon inscriptions from the city of Rome, over 36,700 in number, 
covering a period from the second century B.c. to the sixth century A.D. 

The words merens and meritus occur with such frequency that the author 
has not thought it advisable to collect all the instances, but he estimates that 
they occur 8,000 times. Carissimus is found 1,713 times, dulcissimus 1,634. 
Nineteen other adjectives are listed, ranging from pientissimus, 907 instances, 

Book REvIEws 259 

to praestantissimus with 21. One hundred and twenty-eight others are of 
still rarer occurrence. In most cases the author gives full lists, showing 
(1) spellings and abbreviations (a brief discussion of the latter is found on 
p. 51); (2) collocation, including word order, phrases, nouns and other adjec- 
tives used with the epithet; (3) meaning. All this is followed by deductions, 
such, for instance, as these: “‘The average age of the son to whom the epithet 
carissimus is applied is 113 years, the average age of the daughter, 93’ (p. 6). 
“Everything points to the conclusion that dulcissimus is the particular 
epithet, not only of children, but of younger children” (p. 10). “ Sanctis- 
simus is distinctively the epithet of women” (p. 22). 

A statistical tabulation (p. 49) yields, by a simple method of calculation, 
results showing ‘“‘normal frequency of application” and “actual frequency,” 
thereby indicating ‘‘with accuracy the preferences shown in the use of the 
various terms of endearment”’ (p. 48). 

As was to be expected from the usage of prose literature, superlatives 
predominate over positives. Under pius it is stated that “there is a notice- 
able tendency to heap up the positive forms. There appears to have been 
an attempt to compensate for the omission of superlative forms by the use 
of a greater number of positive forms” (p. 26). 

Chap. ii deals with terms of family relationship, and the material is 
handled in much the same way as in chap. i. Genitor (p. 52), genetrizx (p. 
54), natus (p. 75), nata (p. 78) are found chiefly in metrical inscriptions. 
“We are probably safe in saying that coniunz designates husband three times 
as often as all other words put together” (p. 64). “‘Coniunz is used by high 
and low alike” (p. 64), both as masculine and as feminine (p. 67). Maritus 
is used for husband in about 12 per cent of the cases (p. 65). “ Uzor stands 
second [to coniunz, p. 67] in point of frequency among the words used to 
designate the wife” (p. 69). ‘“‘No epithet of endearment is applied to the 
uncle,” who is mentioned 28 times (p. 58). ‘Only once [out of 11 occur- 
rences] is an endearing epithet applied to the stepfather” (p. 59; per contra, 
see Pliny Ep. ii. 13). ‘The only expression of love for a mother-in-law 
[socrus occurs 4 times and circumlocutions 8 times] is found in [CZL. VI] 

Here the wife not only calls her husband’s mother carissima, 
but also speaks of her as mater” (p. 60). 

We gather from the author’s silence that several words do not occur at 
all in the whole bulk of 36,700 inscriptions: fratria, glos (8 circumlocutions 
occur, for three kinds of sisters-in-law), lewir (10 circumlocutions are found 
for three kinds of brothers-in-law); the rare ianitrices and terms for remote 
relationships were not to be expected. 

Glaring misprints are only too common in the expository part (e.g., 3,600 
instead of 36,000, p. 1; exopatissimus followed by a quoted exoptatissimo, 
p. 44; illigetimate, p. 74; inscriptives, pp. 76, 85; aprentice, p. 83); these 
raise at once the more serious question of the accuracy of the proofreading 
in the mass of quotations from the inscriptions themselves. Mellitissima is 

260 Book REVIEWS 

quoted, p. 45, as in CIL. VI 28, 720, and again, p. 61, correctly as in 28,120. 
On p. 60, line 5; the husband’s age is given as LXV, and that of the mother- 
in-law as XXXXI, exactly interchanging the numerals as given in CJL. VI, 
5,570. It is also to be regretted that the author of a dissertation of this 
sort is not surer of himself in his use of “shall” and “will.” 

In pleasant relief from the statistical part of the dissertation stand cer- 
tain striking expressions of human interest, such as are inevitably brought 
out by any extended investigation of Latin inscriptions, in strong contrast 
to the more perfunctory or stereotyped formulae (cf. Cagnat, Revue de 
philologie, XIII, 1899, 51 ff.). Dulcis anima=father (p. 55); pater et filius= 
pére et fils (p. 53). ‘The words senior and iunior appear in contrast 7 
times”; in six of these the father and son are probably meant, and in the 
seventh the older and the younger son is referred to (p. 53). Causa uitae 
stands for father (p. 53) or for mother (p. 55). “A wife is styled anima 7 
times .. . . uita once” (p. 70). Parentes occurs frequently with ‘‘a wider 
meaning than parents” (p. 56), asin all Romance languages today. Unani- 
mis describes both husband and wife (p. 46; cf. Catullus, 9. 4). A son is 
called liber, once certainly (18,611), a second instance (21,412) being more 
doubtful (cf. pater conscriptus, Cic. Phil. 13. 28). He is also called amor 
(p. 76), issulus (p. 76), refrigerium (= “comfort,” solace, p. 77—used also of 
a daughter, p. 78). ‘The alumna is called domina; anima innocentissima; 
and anima incomparabilis” (p. 86). A brother is styled anima innocens 
(p. 61). 

The epitaph of Minicia Marcella (CIL. VI, 16,631) affords no material 
for Dr. Harrod’s dissertation. That of the “sightly dame” Claudia (I, 
1,007; VI, 15,346) is cited only for the sake of the spelling gnatos; but it is 
recalled (p. 43) by 11,602 and 34,045, both of Amymone, daughter of Marcus, 
wife of Barbarus, who was 

lanifica, pia, pudica, friigi, cdsta, démisedd. 

The Laudatio Turiae (VI, 1,527) yields only scanty material. It scarcely 
seems necessary or right to discount the meaning of obsequentissimus, as the 
author appears to do (p. 45, cf., p. 76) in 20,158: P. Iulio. P. [f| Nomaeo | 
filio . optumo | rewerentissimo | obsequentissimog | huius . q. loci . totius | 
domino | uix.ann.zv.m.x.d.xxiv| P. Tul. L{y]s{t]ponus | pat. 


Cotumsvs, OnI0 

February 3, 1912