In January, 1914, I published in the Classical Quarterly an article on t1he Five Grammatical Chapters of Quintilian, in which I endeavoured to set out the general scheme of the writer and his relation to the educational practice of his time. In the present paper I propose to deal with some of the numerous difficulties of detail—difficulties both of text and meaning—which crop up in chapters 4–7. The technicality of the subject and the abbreviated method of treatment produce much obscurity, (...) even when we have no reason to doubt the text. And as to the text, one can but echo the words of Varro with regard to philological and grammatical questions, ‘librarios haec spinosiora indiligentius elaturos putaui.’ The result is that these chapters provide perhaps more problems than are to be found in the same limits in any first class Latin writer—problems which, though not perhaps of much intrinsic importance, have that interest which must always attach to questions which have baffled generations of commentators. I have divided the questions which I have treated into two classes. The first consists of passages in which I feel some confidence in the text which I have adopted or the meaning which I have proposed. The second consists of those which I fear must be left unsolved, though I hope that I have been able to advance the discussion a few steps. (shrink)

The five chapters which Quintilian has devoted to ‘Grammatica’ are in many ways the most valuable discussion of the subject which we possess. They are older than any other surviving account, except the remains of Varro De lingua Latino, and the grammar of Dionysius Thrax, and this last, though far more complete than Quintilian in its examination of the parts of speech, has nothing that compares with the other chapters on analogy, etymology, etc., nor does it give so clear a (...) view of ‘grammatica’ as a whole. These chapters do not appear to have been treated by any scholar since Nettleship published his article on ‘Latin Grammar in the First Century’ in the Journal of Philology, vol. xv. If, in the course of this paper, I traverse on certain points the opinions of so distinguished a scholar, let it be understood that I do so with much diffidence, and only after much consideration of the facts as they appear to me. (shrink)

The passage here discussed, VIII. 6. 33, occurs in one of the lacunas, and we are thus deprived of the help of the great mutilated MSS., and have to fall back upon A. and G. (the scribe who in the eleventh century filled up the lacunas in the mutilated Bambergensis. In § 31 Quintilian, in the course of his treatment of tropes, has reached onomatopoeia, and in § 32 that subdivision of the last-named, or perhaps we should say the kindred (...) subject, which he calls πεποιημένα This was as follows: uix ilia quae πεποιημένα uocant quae ex uocibus in usum receptis quocumque modo declinantur, nobis permittimus, qualia sunt ‘sullaturit’ et ‘proscripturit,’ atque ‘laureati postes’ pro illo ‘lauru coronati’ ex eadem fictione sunt. Sed hoc feliciter eualuit. (shrink)

The controversy between the Anomalists and Analogists has not, I think, attracted as much of the attention of scholars as it deserves. It was perhaps not a very practical matter, though, as I shall point out presently, it probably had indirectly some important practical results. The interest of the controversy lies rather in the spirit in which it was conducted. Anyone who reads for instance Varro, De Ling. Lat. VIII. 31–32, where the anomalist argues that as in life variety of (...) furniture and the like is necessary for aesthetic enjoyment, so in language anomaly is desirable; or IX. 24, etc., where the analogist argues from the unchanging order that prevails in the heavenly bodies, in the tides, in the continuity of species, will feel that he is moving in a world of thought very different in one way from our own, though in another rather like it. By the analogist language is conceived as a world in itself, much as we conceive of the visible world. Its phenomena are being laid bare and constantly reveal fresh signs of law and order. The investigator sometimes finds facts which prima facie suggest anomaly, but he is as confident that behind them must lie some unifying principle as the scientific man of to-day is with regard to the phenomena of the visible world, as impatient of the suggestion of disorder as he is of any miraculous interference with the order of nature. Even the anomalist, sceptic as he is, approaches the question not in a spirit of mere denial, but of aesthetic consideration. We get a glimpse of a lost point of view. The world of words had a glamour and a wonder for them which it cannot have for us. (shrink)

The various attempts to make sense of ‘sequitur,’ e.g. Palmer ‘naturally follows,’ taking pudor as subject and amorem as object, seem to me most unsatisfactory. Sedlmayer reads ‘quitur’ which Palmer calls ‘mira coniectura.’ But it is obvious that as far as sense and transcriptional probability go the correction is excellent, and also that since a passive infinitive is understood, it is grammatically right or at least would be if we found it in Lucretius. The only, and it may be thought (...) fatal, objection is that this passive use of potestur, quitur, nequitur, etc., has not been found in any writ er later than Lucretius, with the possible and not very relevant exception of Apuleius. Birt, the original author of the conjecture, met this objection by adducing other archaisms in Ovid. My purpose here is not to discuss these, but to add to them the fact that Quintilian did not consider that quitur was obsolete. (shrink)

I have never read the two great stanzas of Odes III. 3 without a feeling that the above phrase was rather inadequate, according to what I suppose to be the accepted translation. I base the word ‘accepted’ on Forcellini, and Lewis and Short, who give the reference under the head of propositum, ‘purpose,’ ‘intention,’ ‘resolution,’ ‘design.’ But the capacity of sticking to some particular purpose is not a very noble quality, and if we take the phrase in the wider sense (...) of general tenacity of purpose, I do not feel that we get the ‘iustus’ of the ode, though we may perhaps get a person who is likely to succeed in life. Taken in this way, ‘tenax propositi’ suggests the portrait of Henry VIII., with his gross face and striding legs, dominating the English Church and the High Table of Trinity. I shall perhaps be told that the context shows the meaning. It may no doubt prevent the phrase from being misleading, but it does not make it worthy of its setting. I may add that in the other two places, where I know of its occurring, it has no very lofty meaning. In Ovid Met. X. 415, ‘propositi tenax’ is used to describe the persistent efforts of Myrrha's nurse to find out what is the matter. In Quintilian XI. 1, 90, in a discourse on mild equivalents, we are told that the ‘pertinax’ may be spoken of as ‘ultra modum propositi tenax.’. (shrink)

"Not only one of the best but also the most comprehensive treatment of Stoicism written in this century." --Times Literary Supplement.

This work combines two early pamphlets by F. H. Bradley, the foremost philosopher of the British Idealist movement. The first essay, published in 1874, deals with the nature of professional history, and foreshadows some of Bradley's later ideas in metaphysics. He argues that history cannot be subjected to scientific scrutiny because it is not directly available to the senses, meaning that all history writing is inevitably subjective. Though not widely discussed at the time of publication, the pamphlet was influential on (...) historian and philosopher R. G. Collingwood. The second pamphlet is Bradley's critique of Henry Sidgwick's The Methods of Ethics. Sidgwick was the first to propose the paradox of hedonism, which is the idea in ethics that pleasure can only be acquired indirectly. Published in 1877, this work is divided into three parts, treating Sidgwick's definitions, arguments, and his view of ethical science. (shrink)

This article comments on some of Professor Huang’s theses by looking at ancient historiography. It deals with the significance of history in its respective cultural contexts; the kind of orientation that historical thinking and historiography provide; and the relationship between concrete examples and abstract rules in historical argumentation. Distinguishing between ancient Greece and Rome, it shows that Huang’s explicit and implicit East–West oppositions are more valid with respect to ancient Greece than to ancient Rome. On important points, the situation of (...) Rome is surprisingly close to that of China. Thus not only in China but also in Rome, tradition and history are highly important as a life-orienting force ; and not only in China but also in Rome the orientation that historical thinking and historiography provide is to a great extent moral . As to the relationship between concrete examples and abstract rules in historical argumentation, the paper takes up Professor Rüsen’s category of “exemplary meaning-generation,” but suggests a distinction between example in the sense of “case/instance” and example in the sense of “model/paragon.” Though the two corresponding modes of exemplary meaning-generation are mostly entwined, it appears that in Chinese and Roman historical works there is a tendency toward meaning-generation by example in the sense of “model/paragon,” whereas in Greek historiography the tendency is toward meaning-generation by example in the sense of “case/instance.”. (shrink)

ABSTRACTThis article comments on some of Professor Huang's theses by looking at ancient historiography. It deals with the significance of history in its respective cultural contexts; the kind of orientation that historical thinking and historiography provide; and the relationship between concrete examples and abstract rules in historical argumentation. Distinguishing between ancient Greece and Rome, it shows that Huang's explicit and implicit East‐West oppositions are more valid with respect to ancient Greece than to ancient Rome. on important points, the situation of (...) Rome is surprisingly close to that of china. thus not only in China but also in Rome, tradition and history are highly important as a life‐orienting force ; and not only in China but also in Rome the orientation that historical thinking and historiography provide is to a great extent moral. As to the relationship between concrete examples and abstract rules in historical argumentation, the paper takes up Professor Rüsen's category of “exemplary meaning‐generation,” but suggests a distinction between example in the sense of “case/instance” and example in the sense of “model/paragon.” Though the two corresponding modes of exemplary meaning‐generation are mostly entwined, it appears that in Chinese and Roman historical works there is a tendency toward meaning‐generation by example in the sense of “model/paragon,” whereas in Greek historiography the tendency is toward meaning‐generation by example in the sense of “case/instance.”. (shrink)

Sugar, pork, beer, corn, cider, scrapple, and hoppin' John all became staples in the diet of colonial America. The ways Americans cultivated and prepared food and the values they attributed to it played an important role in shaping the identity of the newborn nation. In A Revolution in Eating, James E. McWilliams presents a colorful and spirited tour of culinary attitudes, tastes, and techniques throughout colonial America. Confronted by strange new animals, plants, and landscapes, settlers in the colonies and West (...) Indies found new ways to produce food. Integrating their British and European tastes with the demands and bounty of the rugged American environment, early Americans developed a range of regional cuisines. From the kitchen tables of typical Puritan families to Iroquois longhouses in the backcountry and slave kitchens on southern plantations, McWilliams portrays the grand variety and inventiveness that characterized colonial cuisine. As colonial America grew, so did its palate, as interactions among European settlers, Native Americans, and African slaves created new dishes and attitudes about food. McWilliams considers how Indian corn, once thought by the colonists as "fit for swine," became a fixture in the colonial diet. He also examines the ways in which African slaves influenced West Indian and American southern cuisine. While a mania for all things British was a unifying feature of eighteenth-century cuisine, the colonies discovered a national beverage in domestically brewed beer, which came to symbolize solidarity and loyalty to the patriotic cause in the Revolutionary era. The beer and alcohol industry also instigated unprecedented trade among the colonies and further integrated colonial habits and tastes. Victory in the American Revolution initiated a "culinary declaration of independence," prompting the antimonarchical habits of simplicity, frugality, and frontier ruggedness to define American cuisine. McWilliams demonstrates that this was a shift not so much in new ingredients or cooking methods, as in the way Americans imbued food and cuisine with values that continue to shape American attitudes to this day. (shrink)