TаTELÓTηS (25) was possibly borrowed from Herodotus (iv. 22. 10). It occurs nowhere else in the history, as indeed the adjective TαTEιós occurs only once (ii. 61.12). ȧvтí (26) with articular infinitive occurs only once more in Thucydides (i. 69.24), and the same construction without the article occurs also just twice in Herodotus. Tidńμioμa (28), presage, ill-omened word, occurs only here in Thucydides, and even Bloomfield has been able to find it elsewhere only in Josephus (Bell. vii. 5.1 Ant. xviii. 5.2) and Libanius (Or. p. 509). It was coined doubtless after Herodotus' use of the verb ἐπιφημίζεσθαι (iii. 124.8). ναυβάτης (28) is τραγικώτερον, according to Pollux (i. 95), as indeed the examples of its use prove. To sum up then, there are in this chapter the following åra§ εἰρημένα: ἀντιβολία (9), έκκρεμάννυσθαι (11), ἐπιθειασμός (12), κατήφεια (15), ἀπηυτομολεῖν (20), αἰκία (22), κούφισις (23), ταπεινότης (25), éπinμoμа (28). The following seem to have been coined by Thucydides: ἀντιβολία (9), ολοφυρμός (9), ἐπιθειασμός (12), κατάμεμψις (16), ισομοιρία (22), κούφισις (23), ἐπιφήμισμα (28), From poetical usage seem to have been borrowed the following: ȧλyewȧ (5), κείμενος (7), ἐπιβοώμενοι (10), προλίπεῖν (12), ὀλίγος (12), ομωγή, (13), κατήφεια (15), αἰκία (22),αΰχημα (24), ναυβάτης (29), and the constructions δάκρυσι πλησθέν (13), μείζω ἢ κατὰ δάκρυα (14), ἐς οἵαν (24). οὐδ' ως (23), and ἀπὸ οἵας A fuller discussion of three phrases is appended. οὐκ ἄνευ ὀλίγων éπideiaσμшv: the vulgate has been objected to by almost all editors. The sense that would at first sight seem to be required is not without many imprecations, and Valla translates non sine multis obtestationibus ac ploratibus. To get this sense, Arnold explains that the negative must be repeated, as if we had οὐκ ἄνευ οὐκ ὀλίγων. Classen offers an explanation which I once rejected, but am now inclined to favor. He understands oλiywv of "the weak, scarcely audible voice of the dying, in their last complaints and appeals to the gods." In support of this view he cites Hom. 492, 00€ɣ§áμevos ὀλίγῃ ἐπί, and c. 44.19, κραυγῇ οὐκ ὀλίγῃ χρώμενοι, where the meaning is evidently not much but loud crying. Possibly also in i.73.3 αἰσθόμενοι δὲ καταβοὴν οὐκ ὀλίγην οὖσαν ἡμῶν παρήλθομεν, this may be the meaning of οὐκ ὀλίγην. We may compare also ὀλιγόπνους, scant of breath (Hesychius) and óλyópwvos, with little tone (Aristid. Quintil. p. 43); also ¿λɩyodpavéwv, doing little, feeble, (Hom. O. 246, Π, 843, X 337) ὀλιγοδρανής (Ar. Av. 686), ολιγοδρανία (Aesch. Prom. 548). Not unlike in force is àpatá in Theocritus xiii. 59, those lovely lines of which Tennyson said, "I should be content to die if I had written anything equal to this." Heracles is seeking his love, the lost Hylas: τρὶς μὲν Ὕλαν ἄυσεν, ὅσον βαθὺς ἤρυγε λαιμός· τρὶς δ ̓ ἄρ ̓ ὁ παῖς ὑπάκουσεν, ἀραιὰ δ ̓ ἵκετο φωνά ἐξ ὕδατος, παρεὼν δὲ μάλα σχεδὸν εἴδετο πόρρω, "Three times he called Hylas, as loud as his deep throat could call, And three times the boy heard, but faint came his voice from the water, And near though he was seemed to come from afar." This is about the force too of exiguam in Vergil, Aeneid vi. 492. When the chief of the Danai sees the mailed hero, pars tollere vocem exiguam—a passage which Tennyson may have had in mind when he wrote: "And if his fellow spake, his voice was thin, as voices from the grave." Cf. Death of Oenone, "Anon from out the long ravine below, She heard a wailing cry, that seemed at first Also M. Arnold, In Utrumque Paratus: bra. "Thin, thin the pleasant human noises grow, And faint the city gleams." visa est The same general quality of voice is implied in Suetonius, Nero 20, quamquam exiguae vocis et fuscae. Cf. Ovid, Fasti V. 457, Umhaec exiguo murmure verba loqui. Similar in English is the use of small in the following passages, i Kings 19.12, "And after the fire a still small voice"; Shaks. Mid. N. D. 1.1, "You may speak as small as you will." "I'll speak in a monstrous little voice"; M. W. of Windsor 1.1, "She has brown hair and speaks small like a woman"; Chaucer, Miller's Tale i. 174, "He syngeth in his voys gentil and smal"; "Lytell Geste of Robin Hode (Child's Ballads v. 121), "He herde the notes smal Of byrdes mery syngynge"; Tennyson, The Two Voices, “A still small voice spake unto me, Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?" and Quain, Med. Dict. p. 112, "The small hard wiry pulse." δάκρυσι πᾶν τὸ στράτευμα πλησθέν: the use of the dative instead of genitive is a poetical construction. Cf. Hom. II 373 oï dè laxō φόβῳ τε πάσας πλῆσαν ὁδούς ; Aesch. Pers. 136 λέκτρα δ' ἀνδρῶν πόθῳ πίμπλαται δακρύμασιν; Aesch. Sept. 459 μυκτηροκόμποις πνεύμασιν πληρούμενοι; Soph. Ο. Τ. 779 ἀνὴρ γὰρ ἐν δείπνοις μ ̓ ὑπερπλησθεὶς μέθη; Soph. frg. 483 πέμφιγι πλήσας ὄψιν; Eur. Or. 1363, δακρύοισι γὰρ Ελλάδ ̓ ἅπασαν ἔπλησε. μείζω ἢ κατὰ δάκρυα, too great for tears. For other similar turns of construction in Thucydides, cf. i. 76.17 δικαιότεροι ἢ κατὰ τὴν ὑπάρχουσαν δύναμιν γεγένηνται ; ii. 50.2 γενόμενον γὰρ κρεῖσσον λόγου τὸ εἶδος τῆς νόσου τά τε ἄλλα χαλεπωτέρως ἢ κατὰ τὴν ἀνθρωπείαν φύσιν προσέπιπτεν ἑκάστῳ; ν. 102. 2 ἀλλ' ἐπιστάμεθα τὰ πῶν πολέμων ἔστιν ὅτε κοινοτέρας τὰς τύχας λαμβάνοντα ἢ κατὰ τὸ διαφέρον ἑκατέρων πλῆθος ; vi. 15.10 ταῖς ἐπιθυμίαις μείζοσιν ἢ κατὰ τὴν ὑπάρχουσαν οὐσίαν ἐχρῆτο ἔς τε τὰς ἱπποτροφίας καὶ τὰς ἄλλας δαπάνας ; vii. 45.5 ὅπλα μέντοι ἔτι πλείω ἢ κατὰ τοὺς νεκροὺς ἐλήφθη. As to the passage under consideration, Bloomfield says, "For this truly elegant turn of expression more adapted to lyric poetry than the plain prose of historical narrative our author was probably indebted to a passage of Bacchylides cited by Wasse, μεῖζον ἢ κατὰ δάκρυα.” The passage in Bacchylides, which seems to have been incorrectly quoted, was probably frg. 45 αἰαὶ τέκος ἁμέτερον, μεῖζον ἢ πενθεῖν ἐφάνη κακόν, ἀφθέγκτοισιν ἴσον. Cf. Hdt. iii 14.40 μέζω κακὰ ἢ ὥστε ἀνακλαίειν. With the sentiment may be compared Seneca's curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent and Shakespeare's "Light sorrows speak, great grief is dumb." So Shakespeare again (Macbeth iv. 3.209), "Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak And here Coleridge's Dejection naturally suggests itself, A stifled, drowsy, unimpassioned grief, Which finds no natural outlet, no relief, In word or sigh or tear." But exactly the Greek idiom is found in Wordsworth's Ode on "To me the meanest flower that blows can give and in Browning's Colombe's Birthday, Act IV, "I laughed for 'twas past tears-that Cleves should starve." CHARLES FORSTER SMITH. University of Wisconsin. [Under ordinary circumstances the field of classical scholarship and the company of distinguished Grecians and Latinists, however tempting to an adventurous man of letters, would not have lured me from the labyrinth of anonymous early eighteenth century English literature, in which, for many years, I have pursued solitary wanderings. There was nothing ordinary, however, in the invitation that came to me to take part in a group of classical studies in memory and honor of Charles Wesley Bain. That was an invitation there could be no thought of declining, because it was a call to express, in some measure at least, under appropriate academic auspices, the admiration and affection I had felt for over thirty years for one of the dearest of all my friends. To think of the figure I might cut in the company I was asked to join, was to think of myself; to accept the invitation without hesitation was to think of my friend, was to think of rendering to his memory all the homage in my power. The privilege to know Charlie Bain, as I always called him after our friendship began at the University of Virginia in the autumn of 1883, carried with it the privilege of knowing one of the few men I have ever encountered who was full to the brim with love of Greek poetry and equally full with knowledge of it. Generally-and the remark applies to other literatures as well-I have little difficulty in forming an opinion, erroneous or not, as to whether the balance tips toward learning or toward love; but in Bain's case I could never discern the slightest tipping. He was a most accomplished Latinist also, and, if my memory serves, it was Latin literature, and particularly Horace, that we most talked about when our friendship began, consule Planco. When years afterwards we were colleagues at Sewanee, I learned to know that his heart was, as mine was, with the Greek. If I could have been mean enough to envy him anything, I should have envied him his superb knowledge of the language and the literature of that most fascinating of peoples. In those days I was studying for special purposes the Greek elegists, and many were the talks we had about them. Unless he changed later, I am inclined to say that the centre of his intellectual life was Greek literature, and that the centre of that centre, if I may be allowed the expression, was Greek lyrical poetry. How deeply since his death I have regretted that then I did not know enough to talk with him about the consummate master of all lyric poets, Pindar! Certainly, if I could shape this contribution to these studies—a too ambitious and formidable phrase—in accordance with my own wishes and with my conception of Bain's highest achievements and aspirations, I should choose a subject having some connection with things Greek. But alas! love and learning do not with me, as they did with him, go hand in hand. It is one thing to read almost daily in the Greek poets—the best thing I know, by the way, both for oneself and for one's students in any other literature-but it is quite another thing to write about them, especially when one's amateurishness has none of the grace of leisureliness. But when I reflect that I am still less of a Latinist, that even my modest studies in the medieval Latin elegists and in Milton's Latin poetry and prose lie years behind my present occupations, I am left wondering what I am to do in order to live up to the engagements so reverently made. |