-;fPll 
 U43 
 
 lihicaKO. 
 
 Univ. - _ 
 
 inVeaLlgatlOUts ' 
 
 ^^^^'^epts ; Greek, Latin 
 
 Southern Branch 
 of the 
 
 University of California 
 
 Los Angeles 
 
 Form L I 
 
 C\3
 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped belov 
 
 JAN 9 1927^ 
 ' 193H 
 
 WAYI0J948 
 
 Form L-9-13»(-10,'25 
 
 LOS AHOKL^S, CAUF, 
 
 .S >
 
 THE DECENNIAL PUBLICATIONS OF 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO
 
 THE DECENNIAL PUBLICATIONS 
 
 ISSUED IN COMMEMORATION OF THE COMPLETION OF THE FIRST TEN 
 YEARS OF THE UNIVERSITY'S EXISTENCE 
 
 AUTHORIZED BY THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES ON THE RECOMMENDATION 
 OF THE PRESIDENT AND SENATE 
 
 EDITED BY A COMMITTEE APPOINTED BY THE SENATE 
 
 EDWAKD CAPPS 
 STARR WILLARD CUTTING ROLLIN D. SALISBURY 
 
 JAMES ROWLAND ANGELL WILLIAM I. THOMAS SHAILER MATHEWS 
 
 CARL DARLING BUCK FREDERIC IVES CARPENTER OSKAB BOLZA 
 
 JULIUS STIKGIITZ JACQUES LOEB
 
 THESE VOLUMES ARE DEDICATED 
 
 TO THE MEN AND WOMEN 
 
 OP OUB TIME AND COUNTKY WHO BY WISE AND GENEROUS GIVING 
 
 HAVE ENCOURAGED THE SEARCH AFTER TRUTH 
 
 IN ALL DEPARTMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE
 
 INVESTIGATIONS
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO 
 
 FOUNDED BY JOHN D. ItOCKIiFELLEli 
 
 INVESTIGATIONS REPRESENTING 
 THE DEPARTMENTS 
 
 GREEK LATIN COMPARATIVE PHILOLOGY 
 CLASSICAL ARCHEOLOGY 
 
 THE DECENNIAL PUBLICATIONS 
 FIRST SERIES VOLUME VI 
 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OP CHICAGO PRESS 
 
 1904 
 
 66424
 
 Copyri(jht,J903 
 BY THE UNIVERSITY,^F CHICAGO
 
 
 s 
 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 
 COI^ TENTS 
 
 ^ I. A Greek Hand-Mibror in the Art Institute of Chicago (with 
 
 Plate I) 1 
 
 By Frank Bigelow Tarbell, Professor of Classical Archaeology 
 
 II. A Canthaeus from the Factory of Brygos in the Boston Museum 
 
 OP Fine Arts (with Plates II, III) ------ 5 
 
 By Frank Bigelow Tarbell, Professor of Classical Archaeology 
 
 ' III. The Meaning of eVl t»5t (TKrjvr)<i in Writers of the Fourth Century 11 
 
 •* By Roy C. Flickinger, Assistant in Greek 
 
 a\s IV. The Procon.sulate of Julius Agricola in Relation to History and 
 
 to Encomium - - ^- ------- 27 
 
 By George Lincoln Hendrickson, Professor of Latin 
 
 V. A Stichometrio Scholium to the Medea of Euripides, with Remarks 
 
 ON the Text op Didymus -------- 61 
 
 By Tennt Frank, Assistant in Latin 
 
 VI. The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Quintus Cicero - 69 
 By George Lincoln Hendrickson, Professor of Latin 
 
 VII. A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions op Chicago - - - 95 
 By Carl Darling Bock, Professor of Sanskrit and Indo-European 
 Comparative Philology 
 
 VIII. Two Twice -Told Tales - - - - 115 
 
 By John Jacob Meyer, Associate in Sanskrit 
 
 IX. The Unity of Plato's Thought - - 127 
 
 By Paul Shoret, Professor and Head of the Department of Greek 
 
 ix
 
 Contents 
 
 X. The Toledo Manuscript of the Geemania of Tacitus - - - 215 
 By Frank Frost Abbott, Professor of Latin 
 
 XI. The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia : A Chrono- 
 logical Study in Greek Literary History (with Plate IV) - 259 
 By Edward Capps, Professor of Greek
 
 A GREEK HAND-MIRROR
 
 A GREEK HAND-MIHHOTl IN THE ART INSTITUTE 
 
 OF CHICAGO 
 
 Frank Biqelow Tarbell 
 
 It is but little more than twenty years since Rayet, in the text to Plate 22 of the 
 Monuments de I'art antique, commented upon the strange fact that Greek hand- 
 mirrors, such as are known from Attic vase-paintings and reliefs to have been in 
 common use, had not been found. The lacuna signalized by Rayet has since been 
 filled. Besides the very early hand-mirrors found by Dr. Tsountas at Mycenae, there 
 now exist in the museums of Athens and other cities not a few such mirrors or parts 
 of mirrors, of Greek manufacture, and dating from ca. 600 B. C. onward. One class 
 has the handle cast in one piece with the disk. In half a dozen known instances the 
 handle is covered with reliefs of early style, while examples with plain handles, from 
 the Argive Herseum and elsewhere, exist in considerable numbers in the National 
 Museum of Athens. Another class, which was certainly in use throughout the fifth 
 century B. C, and probably later, does not have a complete handle of bronze, but a 
 short shank, which is either of one piece with the disk or cast separately, and which 
 evidently fitted into a handle of wood, bone, or ivory, now generally lost. In case 
 the shank is of a separate piece, it is likely to have some ornamental form where it 
 joins the disk, e. g., Ionic or quasi-Ionic volutes with palmettes, as in the examples 
 published in the 'E^rifieplt'ApxaioXojiKri, 1884, Plate VI, 4 and 5; a siren, as in one 
 from Cyprus in the British Museum {Catalogue of Bronzes, No. 246); an Eros, as in 
 the one published in the Jahrbuch des archdologischen Tnstituts, 1888, p. 246; or a 
 Victory, as in one in the BibliothSque Nationale of Paris {Catalogue des bronzes, 
 No. 1349). 
 
 It is to this class that the mirror represented in Plate I belongs. It was bought 
 in 1890 of Messrs. Rollin et Feuardent, of Paris, by Martin A. Ryerson, Esq., of 
 Chicago, and has been deposited by him in the Art Institute of this city. It is said, 
 on what evidence is unknown, to have been found in Etruria. At all events, it is 
 clearly of Greek, and not Etruscan, manufacture. 
 
 The mirror-disk has a diameter of nineteen centimeters. The reflecting surface is 
 very slightly, and at present not quite uniformly, convex. The edge of the disk is 
 ornamented with the " egg^^ pattern (not visible in the illustration), within which 
 is a fine bead pattern. The back of the disk is plain. 
 
 The handle is at present detached from the disk, but the original connection is 
 sufficiently guaranteed by traces upon the latter. At the back the bronze part of the 
 handle is prolonged upward into a palmette, which served to make the attachment to 
 the disk secure. In front the ornamental feature consists of a relief of a siren in 
 
 3
 
 A Geeek Hand-Mirkor 
 
 front view, with recurved wings, surrounded by scrolls and palmettes. A strip of 
 bead pattern above the siren's head matches that on the disk. The volutes of the two 
 lower and smaller palmettes turn outward. Those of the two upper were intended to 
 turn inward, but, through an inadvertence of the artist, one of the volutes of the 
 upper palmette on the left is reversed in direction. The entire composition may be 
 compared with that on a standing mirror from Hermione in the Louvre (Reinach, 
 Repertoire de la statuaire, Vol. II, p. 702, e), where again a slight asymmetry is 
 observable. Of the two the present specimen has the advantage in the compactness 
 and appearance of solidity of the design. 
 
 An especial interest is lent to the Chicago mirror by the fact that the handle 
 proper, into which the shank of the bronze attachment fits, is here preserved. The 
 circumstance is unusual, and, as far as I know, unique, among Greek hand-mirrors of 
 the historical period. As the result of a microscopic examination kindly made by 
 Professor F. K. Lillie, it appears that this handle is of bone, and not of ivory. It is 
 eleven centimeters in length, and is bored through from end to end. The bronze shank, 
 now securely in place, seems to extend about three and one-half centimeters into the 
 tube. In form the handle is not quite cylindrical, but tapers downward, until at the 
 bottom it expands into a sort of collar. It is now much corroded, but the original 
 polished surface is preserved here and there. There is no decoration, except that 
 of incised rings; a group of three at the top, then two, then one, then two, and finally 
 two on the collar. 
 
 For determining the date of this mirror there is no evidence except the style of 
 the bronze relief. The workmanship on the face of the siren is not sharp enough to 
 afford a basis of judgment, but the composition as a whole finds its nearest analogies 
 in objects assignable to the fifth century B. C, such as the bronze handles figured in 
 the Aniiquit6s du Bosphore cimm4rien, Plate XLIV, 3 and 7, and the mirror from 
 Hermione in the Louvre, referred to above. The recurved wings of the siren, con- 
 trasted with the more truthful shape of those to be seen, e. g., on the hydria figured 
 by Professor Furtwaugler in the Sammlung Sahoiiroff, text to Plate CXLIX, if not 
 decisive, are at least favorable to this dating. So likewise is the character of the 
 palmettes, with their relatively large volutes. Signs of the archaic period, such as 
 may be seen in some of the small bronze sirens of the Athenian Acropolis (Ridder, 
 Bronzes de I'acropole, figs. 112-14), being absent, 450 B. C. may be taken as an 
 approximate date.
 
 Decennial 1'ublications, VI 
 
 Plate I 
 
 Greek Hand-Mirror
 
 A CANTHARUS FROM THE FACTORY OF BRYGOS
 
 A CANTHAUUS FUOM THE FACTORY OF BllYGOS IN 'ITfE 
 BOSTON MUSEUM OF FINE AUTS 
 
 Frank Bicjelow Tarbell 
 
 The vase wliich I am permitted by the authorities of the Museum of Fine Arts in 
 Boston to publish was acquired by the Museum in 1895 and is mentioned in the 
 Report of the Museum for that year on p. 20, under No. 24, as well as in the Arcltcio- 
 logischer Anzciger for 1890, p. 90, under No. 24. According to information believed 
 to be trustworthy, it was found in Boeotia. The drawings reproduced in the head-piece 
 and on Plates II and III are by the skilful hand of Mr. F. Anderson. 
 
 The vase is a cantharus,' measuring 0.217 meter in height to the top of the 
 handles. It has been broken, but not seriously. Only a few small bits are missing, 
 and the design has suffered no serious loss, except on the head of the female figure. 
 The preliminary sketch, made before the clay was thoroughly hardened, is distinctly 
 
 •The shape resembles closely that of an early black- 
 figured specimen in Berlin, No. 1737 (Gekhakd, Etruskische 
 und canipani^che Vasenbilder^ Plate XIII, 1-3), and of a 
 red-figured one in the Cabinet des m^dailles, Paris 
 (photograph by Giraudon, No. 92). Although this form of 
 drinking-cup is represented with groat frequency on Attic 
 monuments, chiefly vases, of the sixth century and the 
 early fifth, actual specimens are comparatively rare in the 
 Attic black-figured and early red-figured styles. For this 
 and other reasons it seems likely that the form, like several 
 others used for pottery, was designed for metal, and that 
 the representations in art were often intended to be under- 
 stood as of metal. 
 
 There is another type of cantharus {Catalogue of Vases 
 
 in the British Museum, Vol. Ill, p. 18, fig. 19), characterized 
 by a bridge extending from each handle to the rim of the 
 bowl and by a spur ou the outside of each handle below the 
 bridge. This type seems to occur somewhat more fre- 
 quently in Attic pottery than the foregoing. It is repre- 
 sented on certain coins (c. g., British Museum Catalogue of 
 Greek Coins, "Central Greece," Plate YII, 3; Plate SIII, 
 10,11,16; "Thessaly, etc.," Plate XXI, 13, 19, 20; Coins of 
 the Ancients, Plate 12, 4), but is almost unknown in vase- 
 paintings. An instance, however, is found on an unpub- 
 lished white lecythus in Munich. 
 
 A third type is exemplified by the cantharus of Epige- 
 nes {Wiener Vorlegebldtter, B, IX).
 
 A Canthabus from the Factory of Brygos 
 
 traceable in places. The hair of the woman is done in streaks of alternately lighter 
 and darker brown. Light yellowish brown is used for the lines on the upper part and 
 inside lower part of the woman's chiton, for the minor anatomical markings of the 
 three male figures, for the hair on the front of Zeus's body, for his gaiters, and for 
 the criss-cross markings of the palm tree. Purple is used for the ribbons which con- 
 fine the woman's and the boy's hair, for the woman's girdle, and for the soles and 
 straps of Zeus's sandals. The black background is of a greenish tinge. 
 
 The subjects of the designs demand but little explanation, inasmuch as they offer 
 nothing novel. On the one side (Plate II) a bearded male figure, wearing only a 
 himation and holding a scepter in his left hand, is in hot pursuit of a fleeing woman, 
 who turns toward him with a gesture of appeal. The male figure is almost certainly 
 Zeus. The woman may be intended for ^gina, as on a stamnos in the Vatican 
 [Miiseo Gregoriano, II, Plate XX), where the name is attached; but, in view of the 
 number of Zeus's similar adventures, she is best left anonymous.^ She wears an Ionic 
 chiton, which she pulls up with her right hand for greater freedom in running. Tlie 
 garment appears as if open on the right side, but this is probably only an error in 
 drawing. Over the chiton the woman wears a himation. Her back hair hangs down, 
 the ends being gathered up into a bunch, tied with a ribbon.^ Behind Zeus is an 
 altar with a palm tree, showing that the scene is conceived as taking place in or near 
 a sacred precinct,* probably of Apollo. 
 
 On the other side of the cantharus (Plate III) Zeus is seen again in pursuit. 
 He is dressed as before, except for the addition of sandals and what appear to be 
 gaiters.^ The object of his pursuit is this time an immature boy, Ganymedes.' The 
 latter wears a himation and, as frequently, carries a hoop and stick. 
 
 More interesting than the subjects is the question of authorship. It is obvious 
 that the vase belongs in the early part of the fifth century, and is the work of a man 
 of unusual talent. Nor is it difficult to narrow the determination further. The dots 
 upon all four himatia, the dotted border of Zeus's himation and his obliquely striped 
 scepter in the Ganymedes scene, the rendering of the woman's hair in shades of 
 brown, the liberal indication of hair along the median line of Zeus's body, and the 
 
 3 The same nrrangemont of the hair occurs on the cylix 
 by Peithinos in Berlin, No. 2279 (Hartwig, Meisterschalcn^ 
 Plate XXV), on a cylil in Corneto {ihid.^ Plate LXXV), and 
 on a hydrta in the Cabinet des m6dailles, Paris (photograph 
 by Giraudon, No. 7'>). Cf, also the archaic Artemis from 
 Pompeii {ROmische Mittheitumjen, 1888, p. 282). 
 
 2 0vEEBECK,Griec/i.iC«rwimytfcotoj7ie,Bd. II, pp. .398-402. high boots (ei-ipo/iiSes). But in the case before us the foot- 
 gear proper, to judge by the purple straps, ends just above 
 the ankles. I conceive that the leg-coverings are separate 
 from the footgear. Thoy may perhaps be bandages, wound 
 about the legs and hold in place by cords {indicated in 
 black). On the British Museum cylix E. 69, ascribed to 
 Brygos (Wieiicr Vorlegehldtter^VI, 2), the representation 
 is similar, except that there the dabs of brown color, in- 
 * Jahn (Archdoloffisckc Aufsdtzc, pp. 149, 150) called stead of being confined to the legs, appear also between 
 attention to the frequency with which an altar is intro- the straps of the sandals, as if the bandages were wound 
 duccd into scenes of abduction. According to him it means about the feet as well as the legs. On E. 264 in the British 
 that the event is thought of as taking place at a religious Museum the representation seems to agrtje with that on tho 
 festival, and it reflects the fact that on such occasions Boston cantharus. On E. 276 and E. 361 the black lines are 
 Greek girls had a liberty of public apjwaranco not usually drawn about the legs, but the brown dabs are (tmittcd : and 
 accorded to them. this appears to be a common mode of representation. 
 
 5Tho articles in question arc commonly described as f'OvEUUECK, SrtccA. /iTuwdiii/Hiolm/ic, Hd. 11, pp. GLMS.
 
 Frank Bigelow Tabbell 
 
 peculiar arrangement of the hair at the back of Zeus's neck ' are all in the style of 
 Brygos (if we may for convenience so call the man who decorated tlie cylices signed 
 with Bpvyo'; eiro irjaev). And, though each of these features may be found in the work 
 of one or more of his contemporaries, taken collectively they point pretty strongly to 
 him. Again, the triple ends of the hair-ribbons and of the girdle are characteristic of 
 Brygos. But more decisive still are the narrow eyes, sensitive nostrils, and parted 
 lips of the faces, and the headlong impetuosity of movement in the figures. Tln^se 
 indications are sufficient to assure us that this vase was not merely produced under 
 the influence of Brygos, but was decorated by his very hand. It is thus one of the 
 most important treasures in the Greek vase collection of the Boston Museum. 
 
 7 Cf. the satyr oa the left of the frat^ment in Castle uted to Brygos. Several instances occur also on a cylix in 
 Ashby (Haktwig, Meisterschalen, Plato XXXIII, 2), attrib- the style of Duris iibid., Plato LXVI).
 
 H 
 H 
 
 < 
 
 ai 
 O 
 
 Eh 
 
 •< 
 O 
 
 n 
 Pm 
 
 •< 
 
 H 
 o 
 H 
 
 o
 
 EH 
 
 1-1 
 Ph 
 
 O 
 
 M 
 
 < 
 o 
 
 hi 
 
 n 
 Ph 
 
 H
 
 THE MEANING OF ^^n x^s ctkiiv^s IN WRITERS OF 
 THE FOURTH CENTURY
 
 THE MEANING OF cttI Tfjs <j><r]vr\^ IN WRITERS OF THE 
 
 FOURTH CENTURY 
 
 Roy C. Flickinoer 
 
 There are several passages in Aristotle's Poetics that are of great importance to 
 the student of scenic antiquities, whatever his opinion may be regarding a raised stage 
 in the Greek theater of the fourth century before Christ. They were brought into 
 the controversy long ago, but the adherents of each theory have contented themselves 
 with merely stating their own interpretation of the isolated point at issue, in opposition 
 to that of their opponents, without careful analysis of the entire context in each case. 
 Consequently no progress toward the complete understanding of these passages has 
 been made. They were first cited as having a bearing upon the stage question by 
 Mr. H. Richards, in the Classical Review, Vol. V (1891), p. 97: 
 
 Before we accept Dr. Dorpfeld's theory that the actors in a Greek theater performed in the 
 orchestra, and not on the stage, some explanation ought to be forthcoming of certain passages in 
 the Poetics of Aristotle, in which the contrary seems to be implied. Aristotle several times uses 
 
 iirl Tiys (XKijvri^ in a way very hard to reconcile with the new theory These passages (to 
 
 which others of a similar kind could be added fi-om later writers) appear to be decisive, unless 
 any one will maintain that o-kt^i't; came to be applied to the orchestra or some part of it. But is 
 there any evidence for that ! And, f mther, does not the word eVt imply something raised above 
 the level? 
 
 In 1895 ' Mr. F. B. Jevons, in the Gardner- Jevons Manual of Greek Antiquities, 
 p. 678, wrote : " Aristotle repeatedly uses the phrase eVt t% aKrivrj<;, in which o-kijvt] 
 can scarcely mean the orchestra or any part of it, and eVi naturally means 'on' and 
 implies elevation ;" and M. Octave Navarre, in Dionysos, pp. 105 ff.: "Aristote dit que 
 la trag^die ne pent pas repr^senter plusieurs 6v6nements k la fois, mais seulement ' la 
 partie de Taction qui s'accomplit sur la sc^nc et par les acteurs.'' La scfene est, on 
 le voit, dfeign^e de la fa^on la plus nette comme le lieu affects aux acteurs." In the 
 following year Dr. Emil Reisch,^ in Dorpfeld-Reisch, Das griechische Theater, pp. 
 284 ff., published the following explanation : 
 
 Wie die Schauspieler dno (TKrjvrj'; kommen uud sprechen, so bewegen sie sich in der Kegel 
 wahrend des Spieles . eVt cr/cj;v^s, in der Nahe der Skene, ja haiilig genug bleiben sie auf den 
 Stufen des Hauses oder in dem von den Paraskenien begrenzten Vorraum des Hauses. Daher 
 konnen sie kvuzweg als oi i-irl aKryi^s bezeichnet werden; doch ist zu bemerken, dass dieser 
 Ausdiuck niemals so wie ol dwo cTKrivrj<; im Gegensatz zum Chor gesagt wird, well auch der Chor 
 
 1 In the Re\-ue critique. Vol. XXVI (1892), p. 450, Mr. S. welche das Wort cr/<i)i-^ auf das gedielte podium, oder wenn 
 
 Reinach referred to Mr. Richards's argument with apparent man das uicht zugeben will, auf den Platz beschrSnkt, 
 
 approval. Christ, " Bedeutungswechsel einiger auf das auf dem gespielt wurde," quoting Aristotle's use. 
 ff '^f''- T*"^"'", '«'^"*^"<='"'° Ausdrttcke,-; Jahrb. f. cla^s. 2 Dr. DOrpfeld agrees with his collaborator in this ; c/. 
 
 P/iii., Vol. CIL (1894), p. 39, said: " Die vierte Bedeutung, m^ p. 346 
 
 13
 
 4 Meaning of eVl t*}? o-ktjv^)'; in Wbitees of the Fourth Century 
 
 haiifig in der Xahe der Skene zu thun hat. Es ist also damit durchaus nicht eine Sclieidung der 
 Schauspielpersouen beabsichtigt. 
 
 AUerdiugs wiirde der Ausdiuck iirl (TK-qinj% von den Schauspielern auch dann gebraucht 
 warden konnen, wenn der Vorraum vor dem Hause durch eine Btihne gebildet wiirde. Aber 
 blo.ss aus diesem Ausdi'uck heraus lasst sich das Vorhandeusein einer Biihne nicht erfichliessen. 
 Denn es ware uatiirlich ein arger Fehlschhiss, wenn man aus den Worten cVi o-k»;it;s und utto 
 (TK-qvri% folgern wollte: o-kt/vj; heisst "Biihne." .... Nach dem, was wir iiber die Bedeutuug von 
 (jKTivri aiiseinander gesetzt haben, konnen ftir im. a-Krjvrji in der erwahnten typisehen Verwendung 
 (oi oder TO. ivl a-Kr]vrj^) nur zwei Uebersetzungen in Betracht kommeu: " auf dem Hause " und " bei 
 dem Hause." 
 
 Die erstere AuflFassung hatte selbst dann ihre Bedenken, wenn man in der Skene eine 
 Btihne annehmen wollte, die wie die romische Biihne eineu integrirenden Bestandteil des 
 Schauspielhauses gebildet hatte. Deun dann ware eher die Wendung iv aKrjvrj "in scaena" zu 
 erwarten. Die zweite Auffassung dagegen hat alle sprachlichen Aualogien fiir sich. Dass das 
 Vorwort iwi (mit Genetiv, Dativ und Accusativ) nicht nur zur Bezeiehnung von Hohenunter- 
 schieden, sondem auch zur Bezeiehnung der Nachbarschaft zweier auf gleichem Boden befind- 
 licher Dinge verwendet wird, diirfte wohl bekanut genug sein. Aber es ist vielleicht nicht 
 iilx'rilussig, darauf hinzuweiseu, dass ini gerade mit den Bezeichnuugeu des Hauses sehr haiifig 
 
 in diesem Sinne verbunden zu werden pflegt Die Beispiele dlirfteu genligen, um zu der 
 
 Annahme zu berechtigen, dass man die Wendung cVt o-Kr;i^s ursprtinglich im Sinne von ivl 
 o'lKias " vor, bei dem Hause " gebraucht hat. Natiirlich erhielt der Ausdruck dann sehr bald 
 formelhafte Geltung und bezeichnet kurzweg: " auf dem (vor der Skene befindlichen) Spielplatz." 
 
 Mr. A. E. Haigh, in The Attic Theatre (2d ed., 1898), pp. 18<j f., has said: 
 Aristotle in many places speaks of the songs of the actors as to. oltto t^<s o-kt/i^s, in opposition 
 to the songs of the chorus, to. tov xopo^- Further, he speaks of the actor's part as being played 
 €7ri T^s (TK-qvrji. According to the usual interpretation of these passages, he means that the 
 actors played their part " upon the stage," and sang their songs " fi'om the stage." Dorpfeld, 
 however, proposes in these cases to translate the word crKr)vri as the "background," and not as 
 the "stage." He supposes Aristotle to mean that the actors performed "at the background,"' 
 and sang their songs " from the background." He denies that the two expressions imply the 
 existence of a stage. Now, the translation that he suggests may be possible, as far as the Greek 
 is concerned. But it is very difficult to believe that they are the right translations in these par- 
 ticular passages of Aristotle. Aristotle's words seem to clearly imply that there was some 
 essential and conspicuous difference between the position of the actors and that of the chorus. 
 But if, as Dorpfeld thinks, they all performed together in the orchestra, there would be no such 
 distinguishing mark. It is true that the actors might, for the most part, be rather nearer the 
 stage buildings; and the chorus might, for the most part, be rather more distant from them. 
 But practically they would l)e standing in the same place; there would be no pronounced differ- 
 ence. Aristotle's words appear to be explicable only on the supposition that the actors appearetl 
 upon a stage, the chorus in the orchestra. 
 
 More recently Professor A. Muller, " Untersuchungen zu den Btihnenalterthumern," 
 PhihAogus, Supplemcntbaiul VII (1899), pp. 0-12, wrote: 
 
 \Vir milsscn dcrselben [i. e., Keisch's view] jedoch unsere Zustimmuug ver.sagen, da wir 
 uns verpflichtet fuhlen, auf Grund der folgenden ErOrterung das Vorhandensein einer Biihne 
 im attischen Theater als sicher anzunehmen. 
 
 3 It will bo observed tliat Ilaigh's "at the backKrouiid " by no means accurately reproduces the DOrpfeld-Kcisch 
 " auf dem Spielplatz." 
 
 14
 
 EoY C. Flickingeb 
 
 Wir f^'chou davon atis, dass die Schauspieler ihien (•if,'euthumlichen Standort in der Nahe 
 des Spielhauses hatteu, und dass dieser durch die im Dnick hervorgeholjencu Worte der 
 folgcuden Stcllen des Aristoteles bezeichnet wild, zu dessen Zeiten noch ebenso im Theater 
 
 gespiclt wurde, wie im V. Jahihundcrt (S. Dorpf., S. 379) Giebt es nun Stelleu, an denen 
 
 Peisonen, welche sich von der Paiodos aus zu dem gewohuliehen Standorte der Schauspieler 
 begeben, eiuen Aufstieg, oder solche, welche vom gewohuliehen Standorte der Schauspieler zur 
 Parados gehen, einen Abstieg voruehmen mtissen, so ist der Schluss geboten, dass jener 
 Standort erhoht war. Und solche Stelleu fiuden sich in den altesten Komodieu des Aiistophanes.* 
 .... Weuu uuu die vorsteheude uubefaugeue Erorterung einiger aristophauischer Stelleu und 
 Scholieu das Ergebuiss geliefert hat, dass der gewOhnliche Standort der Schauspieler erhoht 
 war, und wenn bei Aristoteles die Schauspieler ol airo cTKrjvrj'; heissen, ihre Partie to cVl <rKr]vrji 
 und ihre Lieder ra avo (TKr]vrj<; genannt werden, so ist der Schluss gerechtfertigt, dass dieser 
 erhohte Standort eljen a-Krjvr] hiess. 
 
 In the course of an investigation on tlie suliject of the Greek theater and drama 
 in the time of Plutarch I have found myself obliged to trace the history of the word 
 a-Ki)vn from the earliest times in order to determine, as precisely as possible, its exact 
 meaning everywhere, and particularly in such phrases as a-n-o tj)?- o-kt/i/^?, eVt t^? 
 <7K-qvr)^, and eV ry a-KTjvr), which occur with great frequency in the later literature. 
 The subject itself is not a new one. The large collection of material brought together 
 by Wieseler in 1870, in the E rsch-Gruber Encydopadie, Vol. IV, pp. 159 ff., s. v. 
 "Griechisches Theater," has furnished investigators in the field of scenic antiquities 
 with a large proportion of their instances of the word's use. Notable among these 
 scholars are Christ,'' Mtiller,' and Reisch.' The two former adhere, in the main, to the 
 outline of the successive changes of meaning of crKr^vr) laid down by Wieseler, while 
 the last-named adopts an explanation consistent with the Dorpfeld theory of the stage, 
 eliminating the meaning "stage" for the classical period of Greek literature. All of 
 these scholars have contributed to the solution of the perplexing problem in a greater 
 or less degree, but nevertheless all have, in my opinion, been too prone to classify 
 their material en masse under convenient rubrics largely determined by their own 
 position in the stage controversy, instead of subjecting each separate instance or 
 category to a discriminating scrutiny, testing first the context in which the word 
 occurs and then ranging the instances appropriately in accordance with a strictly 
 historical view of the development of the meanings of the word or the phrase. It so 
 happens, therefore, that the same passage is often used by both parties to prove things 
 exactly opposite, as is illustrated by the quotations given above concerning the 
 Aristotelian usage. 
 
 In the course of m}' study I became convinced that Aristotle's use of the term, 
 
 4 Here follows a discKssion of those passages In Aris- Fragen," Jahr.f. class. Phil, Supplementband XIX (1893), 
 
 tophanes that involve the use of ava-^aiv^iv and similar PP- 699 f., 721. 
 
 expressions. This phase of the subject has been already ^Jahrh.f. Phil., Vol. CIL (1894), pp. 38 ff. 
 
 sufficiently treated by White, "The 'Stage ' in Aristoph- n BuhncnalterthUmer (\mi) auA. Philologus,S>vipf\emeat- 
 
 anes," Harvard HtudifS, Vol. II (1891), pp. 164 ff. ; Capps, band VII (1899), pp. 3 ff. 
 
 " The Stage in the Greek Theater," Trans. Am Phil. Ass., 7 Zeitschriftf. d. Osterr. Gymnasien, Vol. XXXVIII (188"), 
 
 Vol. XXII (1891), pp. G4ff.; BoDENSTEINEE, "Szenische pp. 276 ff., and Dew (/liecftisc/ie TAeafer (1896), pp. 283 ff. 
 
 15
 
 6 Meaning of eVi Tf/9 aKt]vri<; in Writers of the Fourth Century 
 
 so far as it extended, was quite consistent with that of Phitarch and his contempo- 
 raries; in fact, that only by gaining a correct idea of the meaning of the phrases in 
 question in Aristotle could one secure the right point of departure for the interpreta- 
 tion of the idioms in Plutarch. The Aristotelian passages were first attacked in a 
 discriminating way and made the basis of a general classification by Edward Capps, 
 who, however, has published only an abstract of his conclusions.' Approaching the 
 subject originally from the point of view of Plutarch's usage, I have found myself in 
 substantial agreement with Professor Capps's conclusions, and at his suggestion, and 
 availing myself of his collections, with which he allowed me to supplement my own, 
 and his constant criticism and advice, I have thought it well to state fully the case as 
 far as concerns Aristotle, reserving for a later occasion the results of my studies in 
 Plutarch and the later literature — except in so far as it may seem advisable to quote 
 here later instances in illustration of the usage of the earlier period. I take this 
 opportunity to acknowledge my obligations to all my predecessors in this field. 
 
 Before the middle of the fourth century the phrases eTrt tjj? <TKr]vr)<; and airo tj)? 
 crKt]vri<; do not occur with reference to the theater. My excuse for restricting myself 
 in the present paper to the consideration of the usage of a single period, the fourth 
 century, is the overwhelming importance of that period for the stage question. From 
 the fifth century we have a large number of extant plays, and practically no one now 
 contends for the Vitruvian stage in that century." From later times theater ruins are 
 numerous, but for the fourth century itself our evidence is comparatively scanty. 
 But the opponents of the Dorpfeld theory insist upon identifying the proscenium with 
 the Vitruvian stage, and the extant remains which give positive evidence of a pro- 
 scenium hajjpen not to be earlier than the latter half of the fourth century. At about 
 this time, therefore, as Haigh,'" Bethe," and others'^ maintain, the actors, who had 
 before this performed upon a low platform, were elevated suddenly to the full height 
 of the proscenium. This could have been accomplished only by the sacrifice of the 
 chorus, as the advocates of the high stage now clearly see ; and they accordingly take 
 refuge in the current but doubtful tradition, to the effect that the choi'us was either 
 given up altogether or "its functions were merely those of the modern band" or "of 
 mere interlude-singers." Exactly what changes in the drama this period witnessed has 
 not yet been fully made out, and we cannot enter upon the chorus question here." How- 
 ever, even among those who accept Dr. Dorpfeld's theory for the fifth century,'* there is a 
 
 8" 'Eiri T^9 tTKTjvr]^ and Similar Expressions," Am. Jour. '-JFor tho evidnnce in favor of the existence beyond the 
 
 Arch., Vol. V (IMl) p. 31. limits of the fourth century of both the tragic and the 
 
 'Except Pl-ciistkin, Die griechische BUhne, who comic chorus, see CAPPij, "Tho Chorus in the Late Crreok 
 
 announces in his preface that he disregards all evidence Drama," .4m. Jour. Arch., Vol. X (1895), pp. iss IT.; Leo, 
 
 from the literary sources. In his review of this book, KAciji. .Witscum, Vol. LII (1897), pji. .IIB ff. ; A. KOrte, " Das 
 
 ClasKiial Hct'icin, Vol. XV (1901), pp. 470 II., Haigh seems Fortleben dos Chors im griechischen Drama," N. .Julirli. 
 
 ready to abandon tlie positiim which ho had consistently /• -'''i((„ Vol. V (1900), pp. 81 ff. ; Riasni, Das gricch. 
 
 maintained fr<tm the beginning. Theater, pp. 2r>S ff,, antl in the Panly-Wissowa Real-Eucyclo- 
 
 i" The Attic Theater 2, pp 155 ff. pMie, Vol. Ill, p. 2402, s. p. "Clior:" and Capps, Trails. 
 
 II Prolcgovwna zur GcKchichte tfe« Theaters im Alter- -""• "'''"'• •'"'" '^'°'- ^^^^ ^^'^^' »"'• ^'^^ '• 
 rtum, pp. 2i:i ff., and 67J«. ye(c/ir. /Inzciwcr, 1897, pp. 72i; II. " Cf. White, Harvard Studies, Vol. TI (1891), p. 107, 
 
 12 CiiEiHT, Sitzuimsbcrichle der bayer. Akad. dcr Wissen- ""'" ' : "'"' Robert, Hermes, Vol. XXXII (1897), p. 447, aud 
 
 tcha/ten, 1894, pp. 26 f. '" f'*"- vclchr. Anzciyer, 1897, pp. 39 ff. 
 
 16
 
 KoY C. Flickingeb 
 
 tendency to go over to Vitruvius for the period represented by the Lycurgus theater 
 at Athens and by the theater at Epidaurus — the Last quartc^r of the fourth century. 
 In this dearth of evidence and abundance of conjecture anything bearing on the 
 general question is of exceptional importance. But the subject of the present 
 discussion is not merely important; though its bearing has been strangely overlooked, 
 it is really fundamental. If iirl rr)? aK-qvrjt; in Aristotle and his contemporaries means 
 "on the stage," and if eVi in this phrase necessarily "implies elevation," we need no 
 more evidence — the great question is decided. 
 
 For the subject under discussion much has been made of Plato,'^ Sijmposvim, 
 194 6.- eTTiXijcTfioov jxevr' av ectjv, a> 'Ajd6(ov, elireiv tov 'EfOKpdrijv, el ISmv ttjv ar]v avhpilav 
 Koi iJ.eja\ocl>poavvr]v ava^aivovTO'; eVt tou oKpi^avra fiera twv v7roKpt.TS)v, koX /3Xe'i|i-ai'T0? 
 evavTia rocroina) Oedrpa), iMeX\ovTO<; eTrihei^eadai, cravTov Xoyov^, Koi oi/8' oircoaTiovv eKTrXa- 
 •yevTO';, vvv olriOelrjv ae Qopv^TjOrjaeadai eveKa r]p.S)v oXiywv avdpoiTruyv. 
 
 I should be forgetful, Agathou, said Socrates, of the courage and spirit which you 
 showed when your compositions were about to be exhibited, when you came upon the oKpiySas with 
 the actors and faced the whole audience '" altogether undismayed, if I thought you would on 
 the present occasion be chsturted by a small company of fiiends. 
 
 The scholiast on this passage, and Hesychius s. v. 6Kpi^a<;, give this explanation: 
 OKpi^a^ • TO Xojelov, i(f>' ov ol rpajoyBol ■^ycovi^ovTO • rti/e? Be KiXXi/3a'; Tpio'KeXr]';, e<^' ov 
 'laravTO ol viroKpnal koI to, Ik fierecopov Xeyovaiv, and Timaeus, Lex. Plat., oKpi^a^' 
 Trrjyfxa to iv tm Oedrput Tt,6ep.evov, e<^' ov iaravro ol ra hrjfxocna Xeyovre'i. Evidently 
 these writers had no clear idea of the word's meaning. Moreover, the appearance of 
 the poet with the actors shows that here we have to do, not with the ayav, but with 
 the Trpodyav" and that was held, not in the theater, but in the odeum.'* The passage, 
 then, whatever its precise interpretation may be, is not relevant to the present discus- 
 sion. In the present unsatisfactory state of our information regarding the irpodycov, 
 therefore, we are scarcely warranted in drawing sweeping conclusions from Plato's 
 reference to that ceremony. 
 
 Aristotle uses the phrase e-rrl (t?)?) ffKrjvrj^ four times in the Poetics, Viz.: (1) 
 XIII, 6, p. 1453a; (2) XVII, 1, p. 1455a; (3) XXIV, 4, p. 1459b; and (4) XXIV, 
 8, p. 1460a; and Demosthenes uses it once (5) in Or., XIX, 337. I shall now con- 
 sider these passages in turn. 
 
 1. XIII, 6, p. 1453 a; Blo koI ol EupitriBr) iyKaXovvTe<; tovt uvto afiaprdvovcnv, 
 oTi TOVTO Bpd ev Tal<; Tpaywhlai'i tcaX iroXXaX avrov et? Svarvx^av reXevrcbaiv. tovto ydp 
 icTTiv wairep etp-qjai opdov. a-i]p.elov Be fieyiaTOV eirl yap t&v crKi]va)v Kai tojv dymvoyv 
 
 15 Of. A. MtJLLEE, Bilhnenalt., p. 365, notes 3, 4, who gives i" Other interpretations were reviewed and rejected by 
 a list of previous autliorities ; also Wieselee, loc. cit., Rhode, Rhcin. Miis.. Vol. XXXVIII (1883), pp. 233 3. It is 
 p. 206, note 20; OEHivncHEN, Woch. f. klass. Phil., Vol. IX likely, too, that under the term uiro«piTai' all of Agathon's 
 (1892), p. 1112 ; Navaeee, op, cit., p. 106, note 2 ; and MUlleb, performers were included, chorus as well as actors. Cf. the 
 Philologus, Supplementband VII, p. 55. story told in the Vita Euripidis of Sophocles and his choriis 
 
 16 Till the close of the fifth century the almost exclusive »' fie "poiyo.^ after the news of Euripides's death, 
 meaning of ScaTpaf was " audience ; " c/. Wilamowitz-MOl- i* Cf. schol. Aeschines Ctesiphon. § 67. 
 LENDORFF, Hermes, XXI (1886), pp. 602 f. 
 
 17
 
 8 Meaning of eVl tT]<; aKi]vri<; in Writers of the Fourth Century 
 
 rpajLKonaTai al roiavTai ^aivovTai, av KaropdwOwaiv, Koi 6 'EvpnrtSrj'; el kuI to, aWa firj 
 ev olKovo/xel aWa TpayiKOiTaTO'; ye TOiv ■Koi-qroiv t^aiverai. 
 
 Aristotle has been saying that a well-constructed plot should be simple, and 
 should imitate actions which excite pity and fear — the pity that is aroused by 
 unmerited misfortune, the fear that is stirred by the misfortune of a man like our- 
 selves. The reversal of fortune should, therefore, be from good to bad. The practice 
 of the stage, he adds, bears out our view (arjfielov Se Kal to yiyvofxevov), for tragedies 
 nowadays are founded on the story of a few heroes whose fortunes illustrate this 
 principle. The earlier poets had treated any legend, whatever the nature of the issue. 
 A perfect tragedy, however, should be so constructed. He then adds: 
 
 Hence they commit the same error [i. e., as the earlier poets] who censure Emipides just 
 because he follows this principle in his plays, many of which end unhappily. It is, as we have 
 said, the right ending. The best proof is that on the stage and in di'amatic competitions such 
 plays, if they are well represented, are the most tragic in effect; and Euripides, faulty as he is 
 in the general management of liis subject, yet is felt to be the most tragic of the poets." 
 
 In this chapter Aristotle finds confirmation of his statement of the principles of 
 tragic composition in the practice of successful poets and in the effect that tragedies 
 constructed according to his rules actually have upon the audiences. He appeals twice 
 to the "practice of the stage," as Butcher renders to yiyvofjievov. The contrast is 
 between plays which are technically perfect and those which, in spite of technical 
 faults, do actually succeed in exciting the emotions of pity and fear. The test is the 
 actual performance. There is no suggestion involving the work of the actors as 
 opposed to that of the chorus. Assuming that they are well put on (av KaropQwOwaLv), 
 the plays of Euripides, with all their faults, are most effective when actually produced 
 (eVi Tosv (TKTjvwv Kal TO)v aywvaiv). The combination of aKtjvrav with aycovcov shows 
 that a-KTjvi^ has here the common meaning of "performance." The phrase may be 
 regarded as an example of hendiadys, and means nothing more or less than "at scenic 
 contests." This is precisely the meaning of the modern phrase employed by Butcher, 
 "on the stage and in dramatic competition "; only we must not allow the modern 
 connotation of "stage" as the actors' platform to affect our interpretation of the 
 Greek phrase, in which the work of the chorus is necessarily included. This point 
 will be made clearer in the discussion of the other jiassages. In post-classical Circek 
 another phrase is sometimes used in the same meaning — eVl dedrpov, c. <j., schol. 
 Vesj). 121)1: i'\jrr](f)LaaTO 6 KXe'tui' fnjKeri Belv KcoyuajSta? eVl deaTpwv'" elaayeadai. '■ Cleon 
 had a bill passed tliat no more comedies should be exhibited at spectacles." To 
 express this thought Aristotle would probably have said eVt ttjv (jkijvtjv eiadyeadai. 
 
 2. XVII, 1, p. 1455a.' Set Be tov<; fivOov; avma-Tai/ai Kal tt) Xe^ei avvairepyd- 
 ^eaOuL OTL fidXiffTU irpo ofifJ-aTfov ri.deixevov ovtco yap av irapyecTTaTa [8'] opwv UKTirep 
 Trap' avT0i<; ycyv6fievo<; rot? TrparTOfievoi'; evpiaKoi to irpeTrov Kal ijKiaTa av XavOdvoi \^To^^ 
 rd VTrevavria. a-qp.elov he tovtov 6 eireTipLaTO KapKivw ■ 6 yap 'Aix(f>iapao<; e^ lepov avr/ei, 
 
 i^In translatiDf? the Poetics I havo usod Butcher's vor- 2riv, tiri QfaifiMv; R. eirl* ta6p; tho others, eiri tw Otarptf. 
 
 sion (2d od.) with slight adaptations. 
 
 18
 
 KoY C. Flickingeb 9 
 
 fiT] opo)VT a^\rov 1 6eaTr]v^ "' iXdvOavev, eirl he t;";? aKriv?i<; i^t'ireaev Bvcr'yepavdvTcov 
 TOVTO TO)v dearSiv. 
 
 Ill constructing the plot and working it out with the proper diction, the poet should place 
 the scene, as far as possible, before his eyes. In this way, seeing everything with the utmost 
 vividness, as if he were a spectator of the action, he will discover what is in keeping with it, and 
 be most unlikely to overlook inconsistencies. The need of such a rule is shown by the fault 
 found in Carcinus. Amphiaraus was on his way from the temple. This fact escaped the notice 
 of the poet, who did not visualize the situation. On the stage, however, the piece failed, the 
 audience being offended at the oversight. 
 
 Since we have no knowledge of the plot of the play, the hint given by Aristotle 
 is necessarily obscure. But the inconsistency that Carcinus overlooked is, neverthe- 
 less, indicated with sufficient clearness. The poet had not, in constructing his plot, 
 carefully worked out the language of his characters (rrj Xe^ei avvaTrepyd^eaOai. 
 Butcher's "diction" is faulty) so that it should harmonize with their actions. Here 
 Amphiaraus was on his way back from the temple, whither he had previously departed, 
 but on his reappearance speaks of having come from somewhere else.''''' The contrast 
 here is similar to that in the passage previously discussed — between the crucial test 
 of the performance before spectators and the intrinsic merits of a play. There the 
 practical success of Euripides is set over against defects in technique ; here the prac- 
 tical failure of Carcinus against the (implied) merits of his drama. When writing 
 the play the poet, by failing to visualize his plot, overlooked an inconsistency; but 
 when the play was performed (eVl rf;? aKijvi]';) , it failed because of this small defect."^ 
 To introduce into the interpretation of this passage a reference to a stage for actors, 
 as contrasted with the orchestra for the chorus, is to violate common sense and reason. 
 Here also a-Krjvrj stands for the theater itself; eVt ri)? aKr]uri<i is equivalent to the later 
 eirl rov dedrpov, and means, by metonomy, " at the performance." An excellent parallel 
 is found in Plutarch, Moralia, p. 845o.- {^r]fioa6evr]<;) iK-rrecrmv Settot iirl tt)? iKKX-qa(a<;. 
 
 3. XXIV, 3, 4, p. 1459 6; Siacfiepei, Be Kard re t>}? avardaeo}^ to fj.rjKO'i rj eTroTroiia 
 
 21 The emendation of Goraperz for opCivra t'ov 0f{iTTiv of H. DCntzer. Rettunf; der Arist. Poetik, p. 177. saw the 
 the manuscripts. A careful examination of the context point correctly, though vaguely, but found an impossible 
 shows that the poet, not the spectator, was blamed for contrast between ef iepoO and «'n-t trfcijr^s. TeichmCller, 
 overlooking the inconsistency. The phrase opuiv .... Arist. Forschuugen, Vol. I, 104 f., read Bearrti', and thought 
 ^leto-Ta Aai'flat'ot applies to him, and its echo, m*) op'^»'''a .... the spectators were offended because they did not see the 
 eAafSavei', naturally does the same. Dacier saw the proper return of Amphiaraus from the temple actually represented 
 application, and read iroojTiif for dear^v, which Suseniihl before their eyes instead of being merely described. But 
 adopted. Butcher brackets toi- dearriv, but the passage then that would not have involved a virivavriov. Gomperz in 
 lacks the definite reference to Carcinus that is required. Aristotelcs Pot-tik (1897), p. Ill, suggests that the appear- 
 Vahlen's conjecture, optuvr' av, thouyh perhaps easiest to ex- ance in another rOlo of the actor who played Amphiaraus's 
 plain paliBographically, breaks down at the same point. part while he was supposed to bo absent offended the 
 Gomperz's emendation gives the evident meaning of the audience. But this occurred in nearly every play, 
 passage, and from it the present reading could easily have 23 Euripides, on the contrary, is commended for his care 
 been derived by some scribe's writing rov fleaTiji/ between the [q gudj details, viz., for telling the audience whence a char- 
 lines as a comment on ainiv, which he misunderstood. acter comes and whither ho is going. The opening line of 
 
 22This is better than to assign the error to faulty stage the Troofles is a case in point: 'Hkoj ^miiy .^iyaioi- iAm'poi- 
 
 management, e.<7., that .\mphiaraus made his exit through piflos, where the scholiast remarks: oAot eVi toD Oeirpov o 
 
 one of the parodoi, and then on his return entered from EupuriS,)?. " Euripides was wholly intent upon, i. e., was 
 
 the building represented by the proscenium. Susemihl, ever thoughtful of, his audience." C/. Plut.iech, J/omJm, 
 
 pp. 234, 1B26 (2d ed.), frankly confessed ignorance of the p. 342b; (Alexander, entertaining the Persian ambassadors), 
 
 fault involved ; Welcker, Die griecliischen Trau&dien, Voi. ovB^v ijpwTa irai&iKoy aAA" 6A0? ev to(s KuptwroTots ^i- t^« 
 
 III, p. 1065, brought nothing of value to the discussion. tiyt^onat ; and Horace, Sa«., I., 9, 2: totiis in illis. 
 
 19
 
 10 Meaning of eTrl tt}? a-Krjvr)'; in Writers of the Fourth Century 
 
 Kal TO fisTpop. Tov fiev ovv ixr)Kov<i opo<; iKavcx; 6 elpr)fievo<: • hvvaadai yap 8el avvopdcrdai 
 T-qv ap'x^iju Kal to reXo?. ehj S' av tovto, el tcov fiev ap^aicov eXaTTOv; ai avaTaawi elev, 
 vrpo? Be TO 7r\i}0ov TpaywBiMV twv et? fitav ciKpoatJiv Ti6e/xeva)i> TrapijKoiev. e;j^« Be irpo'i to 
 eireKTeivecrdat. to fieye6o<; ttoXu ti r) eTroiroiia iBiov Bia to iv p,ev Ty Tpayathia fii) ev8€)(ea'0ai 
 afia irpaTTOfieva ttoWo, pieprj fii/xela6ai aWa to evrt rr)? aKrjvrj'i Kal twv VTroKpiToyv p.epo<; 
 fiovov. iv Be Trj eTTOTroiLa Bia to Birjyrjcnv elvai ecTTi ttoXKo, p-eprj afia iroielv Trepaivofieva. 
 
 Epic poetry differs from tragedy in the scale on which it is constructed, and in its metre. 
 As regards scale or length, we have already laid down an adequate limit: the beginning and the 
 end must be capable of being brought within a single ^iew. This condition will be satisfied by 
 poems on a smaller scale than the old epics, and answering in length to the group of tragedies 
 presented at a single sitting. Epic poetry has, however, a special capacity for enlarging its 
 dimensions, and we can see the reason. In tragedy we cannot imitate several actions carried on 
 at one and the same time; we must confine ourselves to the action on the stage and the part 
 taken by the players. But in epic poetry, owing to the narrative form, many events simul- 
 taneously transacted can be presented. 
 
 A tragic plot is restricted as to time and place, j". e., it cannot represent more 
 than one event at a time. Now to represent simultaneous events we need several 
 groups of characters and as many places for their action. But tragedy can present 
 but one group of characters at a time acting in but one place, viz., that represented in 
 the scenery of the theater. Whenever in a play the scene of action has once been 
 localized, there it must remain, and no performers can be introduced inconsistent with 
 this location. Now the chief cause of this restriction was the chorus. Its constant 
 presence effectually prevented the tragic poet from shifting the scene of action, as the 
 epic poet could readily do in his narrative, and as the modern dramatic poet, freed 
 from this serious limitation, can do without violating the laws of his art. The fifth- 
 century dramatists keenly felt the restraint put upon them and tried to gain a larger 
 freedom, ^schylus in the Eumenides, Sophocles in the Ajax, Euripides in the 
 Alcfstis, Aristophanes in the Thesmophoriaznsde, and the unknown author of the 
 Rhesus succeeded in removing the chorus for a moment while the scene was changed; 
 but they could not introduce a new set of characters in the new scene, because the 
 traditions of the drama imposed upon the poet a single chorus for each piece. The 
 utmost that the poets did in this direction was done in the early period of tragedy, 
 when chorus and actors changed their characters between the longer episodes — an 
 arrangement from which developed the group of four plays forming a tetralogy. 
 Aristotle, of course, did not dream of a tragedy without a chorus, and in formulating 
 the laws which govern this branch of the imitative art, accepting the chorus as an 
 essential part of tragedy, simply defined the conditions which arise from its presence. 
 It is evident, therefore, that under the term ol viroKpLTaC he had in mind all of the 
 performers concerned in representing the action which the poet brings before our eyes, 
 the chorus as well as tin; actors."* The restriction as to the performers wliicii the 
 
 2*^/, Nolo 17 above, and Triclinius's scholium to tlio Jiihr.f. chtax. Phil,, Vol. VII (1.S75), p.4;J2: TtevrtKaihiKa fia\v 
 Agamemnon, quoted by Wecklein," Studicu zu Euripides," oi toO rpayiKoii xopov vnoKptrai. 
 
 20
 
 Roy C. Flickinger 11 
 
 tragic poet can introduce into a given plot is, however, only an incident of the limita- 
 tion — imposed by the constant presence of the chorus — as to the phirc, of (idlou. 
 To this consideration, therefore, Aristotle properly gives the {jrecedcnce — Set /Mineladai 
 TO eVt Trfi aKr]vrj<{ fiepov. Out of the many actions going on at the same time which 
 the epic poet may draw into his narrative, the tragic poet must select that one which 
 takes place at the scene of action determined upon at the outset. To make clearer the 
 necessity of the poet's confining himself to this one scene, Aristotle adds the second 
 item — Kal to t5>v vttokpitwv (xepo<i. We might properly render the sentence under 
 consideration thus: "But he must confine himself to that portion of the story that is 
 defined by the scene of action chosen and that falls to the performers appropriate to 
 this scene." 'EttI t?)? <TKrjvr}^ here again might have been replaced by the later phrase 
 eTTt Tov Oedrpov, and, far from referring to the place where the actors stood, manifestly 
 embraces all who are concerned in the dramatic representation. 
 
 4. XXIV, 8, p. 14(50 rt.' Set fikv ovv eV rat? TpayoyBiai': -jroielv to daviiacTTOD, 
 fiaWov 8' ivSe'xeTat iv ttj i-KO-jroiia to aXoyov, Si' 6 avjx^aivei fidXtaTa to OaufiacTTOv, Bia 
 TO fir] opdv ek TOV irpaTTOvra' eirei to, ivepl ttjv' E/cTopo? Si'oj^iv eVt cTKi]vri<i ovTa '^eXola av 
 <^aveir], ol filv effTWTe? icai ov BicoKOVTe^, 6 S' avavevcov, iv Be rot? eireaLV XavOdvei. 
 
 The element of the wonderful is admitted in tragedy. The irrational, on which the wonder- 
 ful depends for its chief effects, has wider scope in epic poetry, because there the person acting 
 is not seen. Thus, the pursuit of Hector would be ludicrous if placed upon the stage — the 
 Greeks standing still and not joining in the pursuit and Achilles waving them back. But in 
 the epic poem the absurdity passes unnoticed. 
 
 Aristotle is evidently thinking of Iliad, XXII, 205 f. : 
 
 Xaolaiv 8' ave'veve KaprjaTi Blo<; ' A'^^tWeii'; , 
 oij8' ea lefievac eVt "Earopi TriKpd ^eXefiva, 
 
 and is trying to show why a scene that was excellent in an epic could not be drama- 
 tized. In Homer there are two groups of characters: (a) Achilles and Hector, and 
 (6) the Greek army. They are all inroKpnai ("performers") in the sense in which 
 the author used that term in the preceding passage. In Aristotle's imaginary drama- 
 tization of this incident these groups represent the actors (6 8e') and the chorus [ol 
 fiev^ respectively. In the epic account of the pursuit the episode seems natural, for 
 the picture placed before our eyes is on an heroic scale, and we do not find ourselves 
 offended by minor picturesque, if incongruous, details; but "on the stage," "auf der 
 Btihne," "sur la scfene," ;. e., in dramatic representation, it appears ridiculous. The 
 contrast is once more perfectly plain, and if we should try to restrict the meaning of 
 (TKTfvri to an elevated "stage," a place for actors alone, we should then have to explain how 
 both actors and chorus are here included under that jihrase. 
 
 It is fortunate that so many fourth-century examples of the use of eVt tj}? aKijvrj'; 
 are preserved by so careful and accurate a writer as Aristotle, and in passages that 
 yield satisfactory results upon analysis. The sole instance of its occurrence in 
 
 21
 
 12 Meaning of eVl t?]? aKr]vrj<; in Writers of the Fourth Century 
 
 Demosthenes is so colorless that any attempt at deriving from such a passage a satis- 
 factory conception of the phrase's meaning would have been vain; yet, now that from 
 other sources we have gained a suitable meaning, the usage there is found to accord 
 with it. For the proper understanding of such passages, therefore, these Aristotelian 
 examples are of inestimable worth. 
 
 5. Demosthenes, Or., XIX, 337: KaiToi kuI irepl Trj<; <f>(ov7J<; iaa><; ehrelv avdyKT]. 
 Trdvv yap fieya Koi iirl ravrr) (ppovelv avrov aKovoa, ©? KadviroKpivovixevov v/xdv. efiol Se 
 SoKelr' cnoiruiTarov dirdvTcov av troirjcrai, el, ore /Jiev to, @veaTov koi tmv iirl Tpoia KUKa 
 riyavi^ero, eKc^dWer'' avrov Kal i^eavpiTTer' eK twv dedrpwv Kal fidvov ov KareXeved' 
 o£/T(u?, ware reXevTwvTa rod rpirayayviareiv drroari^vat., eVetS^ 8' ovk eVt t?;? aKi]V7]<{ oX\' 
 eV Tot? Koivolv Kal fieyLcrroi<; t^? Tro'Xeo)? irpdyfiacn fxvpi eipjaarai KaKa, r-qviKavG' w? KaXov 
 (f>6e'yyojj,evcp •n-po(7e-)(otre. 
 
 And yet, perhaps, I must speak also about his voice, for I understand that he is very proud 
 of that, too, presuming that he will oveipower you by his acting. It appears to me, however, 
 that it would Ije an act of extreme absurdity on jour part, if, when he played the miseries of 
 Thyestes and the heroes at Troy, you drove and hissed him fiom the theater and all but stoned 
 him, so that he finally retired from playing his third-rate parts, yet now, when not merely in 
 dramatic performances, but in public and most momentous affairs of the state, he has wrought 
 endless miseries, you should pay attention to him as a fine speaker. 
 
 Demosthenes is calling attention to the different scenes of ^schines's failures, 
 which were not confined to his theatrical efforts but extended to his public career as 
 well. 'Etti TJj? aicrjvri'; has no more definite application to his standing-place as an 
 actor in the theater than eV rdv 6edrpcov above, or than ev Aiovvaov in Or., V, 6, 7: 
 rrdXiv rolvvv, 5> dvhpe<; ' A07]vaioi, icartScov NeoTrroXe/ioi' rov irn-OKpirrjv .... KUKa ipya- 
 
 ^ofxevov rd fieyiara rrjv rroXiv .... rrapeXdwv eirrov ek iifj.d<; Kal ovKeri ev 
 
 rovroi<; alridaofiai toij? vTrep NeoTTToXe'/xou Xeyovrw; aXX' avroiK vfj.d<;. el yap ev Aiovvaov 
 rpayipSois ededaaaOe, dXXd fii] rrepl aa>Trjpia<; Kal Koivoiv Trpayfidrwv rjv 6 X070?, ovk dv 
 oi/T(D? oiir' eKeivov '7rpo<; y^dpiv our ifiov vrpo? drrexOeiav i^Kovaare; or than eV 6edrpw in 
 Theoplirastus, Charact., XI: 6 ^heXvpo^ roiovro'; olof . . . . ev dedrpca Kporelv, orav 01 
 dXXoL iravwvrai Kal avpirreiv oi)? TjSeco'i Oecopovaiv at Xoiiroi. Though ev Atovvcrov and 
 ev 6edrp(p may include both performers and spectators, while iirl Trj<; a-Krjvj]'; is restricted 
 to the former, none involves specific reference to any particular part of the theater. 
 
 These are the only examples of the phrase in the extant literature of the fourth 
 century. I add a few later instances which illustrate the same usage: schol. Thesm., 
 101 : /xovaSei 6 'Ayddcov &)? tt/jo? 'x^opov, ovx o)'> eirl aK-qvi)'^^^ aXX' w? Trofqfiara avvrL6el<;. 
 hid Kal ^opiKa Xeyei fj-eXi] avro<; Trpoi avrdv, o)? ^opiKa Se. " Agathon sings a solo as 
 thcnigh he were addressing a cliorus, not as if he were in the theater, but as com- 
 posing verses [at home]. Accordingly, he says also the choral parts all to himself, 
 though still as choral parts." Lucian, Apol., 5: dl [/. c, tragic actors] eVi ^kv rrj<s 
 xTKTivrfi ' Ay a nefivav eKacrro'i ^ Kpeoyv rj avro<; 'HpaKXi)<; elcnv, e^co 6e IIaJXo9 ^ 'ApiffrdSi]fio<; 
 .... yt'yvovrai. "At dramatic performances in the theater each of the tragic actors 
 
 SiCnb iTKrji'jj^, the manuscripts. 
 
 22
 
 Roy C. Flickinger 13 
 
 is Agamemnon or Creon or Heracles himself, but outside of the theater he is sirajjly 
 himself."' Arg. Eurip. Orestes: to hpafia twv eVi ffK-qvrf'i evhoKiixovvTwv, ^eipiarov Se 
 Tot? i]0eari. The "staging" of a Gre(>k [)lay obviously incloded the place of the chorus 
 as well as that of the actors. Plutarch, Moralid, p. lHi)b: ^iXT^fiwva Se tov kidhikov /cal 
 AXe^iv eVt t?";? aKr)vrj<; aya>vL^ofievov<; Kal are^avovfxevov<; 6 OdvuTov KareXa/Se. " IJeath 
 seized Philemon and Alexis while they strove successfully in tlu^ theater." Of course, 
 in this instance there is no mention of actors at all, but of poets who were contestants 
 in the theater with their plays. Libanius, Prarfai. ad Demosth., 2: laroprjrai yap 
 riva BaroXoi' 'Ecfx'aiov avXrjTtjv yeve'adai, o? TrpwTO? viroSrifiaai. yvvaiKeLOK errl Trj<; (TKrjvrj'i 
 i-^pi](TaTO. "Batalus [as his etfemiuacy caused him to be nicknamed, though his name 
 was really Tigranes; cf. schol. ^schines, I, 12GJ, the Ephesian flute player, was 
 the first to wear women's sandals at a performance in the theater." In the Greek 
 theater flute jilayers performed in the orchestra."" Though Libanius may have had in 
 mind the custom of the Roman theater, more probably he was simjjly quoting the 
 words of a much earlier writer. Plutarch, Moralia, p. 337e.- aycoviary yap ^yefxovia<; 
 VTTOKpirrjv eTreKT'ijyaye, fidXXov Be oj? eVi ffKrjvri^ to htdhrifia Kui^ov Bie^rjXde T?j9 oiKOVfievT)';. 
 " For he brought in against his opponent one to play the role of power, but as in a play 
 a 'mute' took the part of ruler of the world." Ibid., p. 109(1: aXXa Bel aKOTrelv 
 -TrpCoTOV Ti'i o KaXwv iariv. el /xev yap ov cr(f>68pa avvi)6ij'i, aW i} rcov irXovaiWv ri<i ^ 
 aaTpairiKtoi', cb? eTrt aiC7jvt]'i Bopv(j)opi]fiaTO<; XaiXTrpov Be6fJLevo<; fj irdw ^(apii^eaOai r^ KXt'jcrei 
 TTeireicjixevo'i Kal Tifidv, eTrdyerau 7rapai,TT]Teo<; eu6v<;. "But it is necessary in the first 
 place to see who gives the invitation. For if it is no one very intimate, but someone 
 of either wealth or power — one who needs, as at a dramatic performance, a splendid 
 suite, or is convinced that he is bestowing favor or honor by the invitation — one must 
 ask at once to be excused." Ibid., p. l\)lc: 6 S' wairep eVt aKi]vi]<; Bopv<^6pi]fxa Kuxpov tjv 
 ovofia ^aaiXeci)';. "As in a play, Aridaeus was a ' mute' escort of power, a nominal king." 
 Now diro with the genitive is the counterpart of i-rrt with the genitive. There- 
 fore, if eTTt means "on to[) of," avo means "from on top of;" but if evrt conveys no 
 implication of elevation and means simply "at," then cnro denotes merely motion, or 
 derivation, from." Now in the phrase under discussion, eVl rf;"; aK7]vi)<;, we have found 
 that (TKrivr), which in its earlier usage meant a specific part of the theater structure, 
 was used by metonomy for the whole performance-place. Meaning originally the 
 booth used l)y the performers in dramatic exhibitions, then the structure that served 
 not only as a dressing-room, but also as the scenic background (c/. the term ctktjvo- 
 ypa(j)ia, which occurs first in Aristotle), the enlarged, tropical meaning was a perfectly 
 natural development when the "jierformance-place" to be designated was the place for 
 dramatic exhibition. For any other kind of exhibition in the theater, for example the 
 dithyramb, in which the uK-qv-q structure had no part, i-jrl ti;? aicrivr)'; would scarcely 
 have been an appropriate designation of the place of the performance, but rather 
 
 26 Cf. Phrynichus, Rutherford, New Phrynichus. p. 2oO. aKrivri, is found in Theocritus, XV, 16 : i^tvKo^ arrh atcavi'; d-yo- 
 
 27 Ao illustration, which happens to involve the word paaSwi-. The <^0«os was to be had eiri crxai-a?, " at the shop." 
 
 23
 
 14 Meaning of eirl t?}? aKi]Pri<; in Wkiters of the Fourth Century 
 
 eTTt rf;? Ovfj.eXi]'! [i. c, 6pxvo-Tpa<;'). Consequently ol eVt t^? aKr]vf]<;, or the later term, 
 aK7]vlTai, embraced all of the participants in a dramatic representation — inroKpirai, 
 yop6<;, 7rot7;TJ??, X^PVJO'^i f^'d BiSdaKaXo<; — as did rpayaSol at an earlier period. Now 
 if it were desired to distinguish between the two kinds of dramatic performers, since 
 oi eirl (or, from a different point of view, aTro) n";? 6vp.eXr)<; was already used of tlie 
 dithyrambic chorus and could not possibly be applied to the actors, that term would 
 naturally be used to designate the dramatic chorus as well, and oi iirl (aTro) t^? (TKr]vrj<; 
 would be used in the restricted sense for the actors alone. It was thus, in my opinion, 
 that the distinction arose between the two phrases, rather than because the aKrjvi] was 
 the place par excellence for the actors, as is generally assumed on the basis of the 
 dictum of Pollux. One would naturally expect that ol ivl t?)? a-Ki]vfi<; and oi cnro Tri<i 
 (XKTjvri'i would assume the meaning "actors" contemporaneously, though, as a matter 
 of fact, Aristotle uses only the latter in the new sense and retains the old meaning of 
 the former. It is fortunate that this so happened, otherwise it would be impossible to 
 trace the phrase's history with any degree of certainty. Probably the fact that the 
 aK-qvrj was thought of as the home of the actors, as Keisch has pointed out, accounts 
 for the use of a-rro tj)? (tkt]vt]<; in the new meaning before eVl t?;? a-K7]V7j<;. In the 
 development of their meanings, and the differences between them at any particular 
 time, these phrases are precisely paralleled by oi cr«;j;w«:ot' and ot ^u/^eXtA^ot'. In other 
 words, cTKT^w/co'? was first used to distinguish dramatic from other performers in the 
 theater, and later, following the course of development above indicated for oi iirl t^? 
 aK7]i'ri<;, came to be applied to actors alone. Of course, when a raised "stage" was 
 iutroduceil, such an application of these expressions was doubly appropriate,"' because 
 the local distinction was emphasized — not, however, because eTrl implies elevation. 
 
 We are now in a position to estimate properly the phrase otto t>)? aKrjV7j<i in 
 Aristotle. In two passages, which may be un-Aristotelian, aTro (t^?) aKrjvrj'i is used 
 of the lyrical utterances of actors. Poetics, XII, 1, 14:52/j; Koiva fiev airdvrwv 
 TaiiTa, iSia 8e to. cnro t»;<? dKrjVTJ'i Koi KOfi/xoi. "These [/. e. prologue, episode, exodos, 
 and choric songj are common to all plays, peculiar to some are the Kop^/xoi, and the 
 songs of the scenic performers." IhicL, XII, 2: K6fifio<; Se 6pr)vo<; koiuo'; x°P°'^ "^"^ 
 /raivy cnro crKr]vri<;. "A Jxumnios is a dirge by both the chorus and the scenic perform- 
 ers." Cf. also Aristotle's Problem., XV, 9186. • to Be aiiro alriov kul Biotl ra fiev 
 cnro tt)? ct/ct/i'^? oiiic avricrTpofpa, xa Se tov %opoi) apriaTpo^a; ihid., XXX, 920a.- Bia 
 Tt ovBe inroBfopcaTl oii&e v7ro(f>pv'yt.(nl ovk eaTiv ev rpayioBia xopiicov'. .... aXX" cnro 
 (TKi}vr]'i, p.Lp.i]TiKr] ydp; ihid, XLVIII, 922/;; TciVTa Be dixcfxo X^PV P'^" "vdpfiocrTa, 
 Tol<; Be cnro aKijvrj'i olKeiorepa' eKelvot /xev ycip rjpdywv fitfiiirai. The use of xopd's, 
 XopiKov, etc., in these passages gives to the phrase d-iro (t^?) (rKj]vij<; the restricted 
 meaning desired. As soon as the "choral" element is taken out, "scenic" must refer 
 to the actors alone, although, strictly speaking, both chorus and actors were included in 
 
 2« Cf. thi- rncont controvprpy— arisillK from FltEl'a dissnr- liclhi' :iml n.-)rpfcia in Hn-iiiCK, Vol. XXXVI (10()1), pp. 597 ff., 
 tatioii, Pc Ccrtaminihitit Thi/mcUcfs, iiasol, lliOU — between ami ibid.. Vol. XXXVII U'JO'J), pp. ;!41i 11. aud 48.'iII. 
 
 2i
 
 Roy C. Flickinger 15 
 
 the term "scenic" Vf. Demosthenes, XVIII, 180: (^ovXei) ae he /xtjB' i'jpo} top 
 Tv-yovra (6S)\, aWa Tovrayv Tiva tuiv cnro t?)? crKJjvy'i, Kpea<j)6vTr]v r^ Kpeovja ij ov ev 
 K.oX\vTw TTOTe Oivdfiaov KaK<i)<i vTroKpiv6fj.evo<; eTreTpiyjra^. "Do you want mo to count 
 you as no ordinary heio, but as one of tliese 'scenic' performers, Cresphontes or 
 Creon or ffinomaus, wliom once upon a time, at Collytus, you 'murdered' with your 
 bad acting ?" This fling was directed at iEschines, whoso ill luck as an actor of tragic 
 roles was notorious. 
 
 Finally, both those who insist that eVi witli the genitive invariably '"implies 
 elevation," and their opponents who claim that it means "before," are equally led 
 astray by the exigencies of the argument. Reisch, in the statement quoted above: 
 " Dass das Vorwort eVl (mit Genetiv, Dativ und Accusativ) nicht nur zur Bezeich- 
 nung von Hohenunterschieden, sondern anch zur Bezeichnung der Nachbarschaft 
 zweier auf gleichem Boden befindlicher Dinge verwendet wird, dtlrfte wohl bekannt 
 genug sein," proposes to cut the Gordian knot of the most perplexing word in the 
 language in a manner that will satisfy but few. Only a small proportion of the 
 examples that he cites are of any value to the present discussion. Let us consider 
 the following passages: In two instances ctkijv^ has its untechnical meaning of 
 "tent": Plutarch, Bndus, 4.5: irXijyali; Ko\a(TdevTa<; eirl aKtjvrj'; [before, or at, 
 the commander's quarters] '^vp.vois airohod-qvaL Toh aTpaTriyoh row TroXefxicov; and 
 Arg. Soph. ^IjOJ".' KaTaXa/x/Bdvei'AO-ijvd'OSvaaea eVt t^? GKi]v^f hio-mevovTa ri -jroTe dpa 
 irpaTTei. In three cases eVi is used in connection with the scenic background. Arg. 
 Soph. Antigovc: viroKeiTaL he ra ■jrpd'yfiara eVt jaiv Kpe'oi'To? ^aaiXeicov; schol. Soph. 
 Ti-(tcli. 1275: eV otKwp; and Arg. Aristoph. jEgitiYes; eoi/ce [st. Ai])xoa6evi}';] oj? eVt otVi'a? 
 heaTTOTiKrj'i ivoulcrOat tov Xoyov. And in still two other instances it is used in connection 
 with the spectators: schol. Eurip. Troad.,!: oXo<i i-Trl tov Oedrpov oEvpiiriSij'i.mulscho]. 
 Eurip. Hijypol., 521: to. he dXXa, a ^poi'co, dpKeaei rol<; evhov hirjy^aaaOai (ftiXoa, OTTOia 
 eVrt, Kal fiij eVt irdyrccv koI eirl tov Oedrpov TavTa eK<^epeiv. "The nature of my otiicr 
 plans it will suffice to relate to my friends within, and not to disclose them before the 
 whole audience." 
 
 In dealing with this matter Professor Gildersleeve shrewdly observes: 
 
 In tht^ vast majority of instances tVt with the genitive denotes characteristic superposition 
 and it may still denote superposition in such standing expressions as tVt Tcyous, iw' o'lK-jfjiaTO's. 
 .... Any form of superposition will answer the conditions — a rest in front, a step in the door- 
 way Dr. Forman .... adduces an interesting examijle, Demosthenes, LVIII., 40:€7rt 
 
 Tuiv SiKaaTrjpiwv Kal tov ;8r//xaTos, in which eVt retains enough literalness for the second member. 
 But, whatever the local exigencies may be, the phraseological, the adjectival character of the com- 
 bination is imuiistakable. oi iwl ctkjji/^s as a technical term is simply' ot o-KrjvXTaL, the ''hutmen." 
 The rarity of im with the genitive of mere proximity in the best period, the large possi- 
 bilities of the " upon" element even then — all this is abundantly shown in Dr. Forman's disser- 
 tation. That anu TT/s a-Kyjvrj'; is more common than ol ctti o-kj^i'^s, a fact on which Keisch la^-s 
 great stress, is a very simple matter. 'Atto <JK-qvy]<; is im. crKrjvrj<: horn a different point of view- 
 Sporadic examples in which iwi with the genitive seems to mean "before" do not strengthen the 
 aK-qvi] argument, which may quietly repose on the phraseological use of ivc. "On the playhouse 
 
 25
 
 16 Meaning of eVt ti}? aKijvrj^ in Writers of the Fourth Century 
 
 side " is all the theory demands, and the phrase was fixed long before the time of the earliest 
 passag'e cited.'' 
 
 'Etti' does not necessarily and always mean "upon." When aKijvi] means "lent,'' 
 eVl T);? aKijvrj^ means not "on the tent," but "near," "at," or "before" it. In its 
 original theatrical use the phrase meant, as Professor Gildersleeve so aptly expresses 
 it, "on the playhouse side," and referred to the space before and in the vicinity of the 
 scene building. In its fourth -century usage it always pointed a contrast; in some 
 cases it indubitably included the chorus in its application, while it never expressly 
 excluded it. In fact, it had no more definiteness of reference than iv rm Oedrpw. 
 Those who translate the phrase by "on the stage" use a perfectly legitimate English 
 expression that reproduces fairly well the original, but they violate their scholarship 
 and their native tongue when they try to force into the ancient phrase a meaning that 
 is incidental in the history of the modern expression. 
 
 2^ (tildersleeve's Dotice of Forman's dissertation "Oa Used to Denote Superposition," Am, Jour, Pail,^ Vol. 
 the Ditference between the Genitive and Dative with €:ri XVIII (1897), p. 120.
 
 THE PROCONSULATE OF JULIUS AGRICOLA
 
 THE PROCONSULATE OE JULIUS AGRICOLA IN RELA- 
 TION TO HISTORY AND TO ENCOMIUM 
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 
 
 It has been the defect of much wliich has been written in the effort to explain the 
 literary form of the Aijricohi of Tacitus, that each student has seized upon some single 
 aspect of the work and, discerning the analogy of this jmrt to some phase of encomiastic, 
 biographical, or historical literature, has sought in this direction to find the key to 
 the composition of the work as a whole. So, for example (to take two or three illus- 
 trations), Hilbner' endeavored to identify the Agricola with the Roman hiuddtio 
 fiincbris, and found naturally not a little that supported his contention, in fact more 
 than was conceded by most of his critics, who seemed unwilling to allow the qualifica- 
 tions with which he guarded his contention. More recently. Professor Gudeman" has 
 sought to demonstrate that the Agricold corresponds exactly to the rhetorical rules for 
 formal encomium, especially as set forth in the type of imperial panegyric known as 
 the /3ao-tXtA:o? Xo'709. The effort at special identification was in both cases erroneous, 
 and depends ujion certain elements which the Agricola has in common with works of 
 the two literary forms named. Again Andi-esen,^ led by a certain formal resemblance 
 between the manner of historiography and the form of the chapters extending from the 
 description of Britain (10) to the end of Agricola's proconsulate (39), pronounced this 
 section a preliminary fragment of the Histories, and denied to it any biographical 
 character whatever. 
 
 It has remained for Professor Leo, in his masterly sketch of ancient biographical 
 literature,* to furnish the proper setting for the Agricola, and to trace the history of 
 that encomiastic biography which in Greek and in Roman literature had its own devel- 
 opment, related to and yet distinct from such types of formal encomium as the luudatio 
 fimebris or the /3acri\£/co9 \6yo';. The long history of this literary form, with its multi- 
 tude of tributary influences, cannot here be reviewed. In criticism of Leo's general 
 conclusions, I should only wish to see emphasized somewhat more distinctly the influ- 
 ence which the Roman national custom of the laudatio fttnebris must have had upon 
 giving to the biographies of friends or relatives recently deceased a marked encomiastic 
 character. The laudatio funebris was pure encomium, and differed in no essential 
 respect from the Greek theory and practice of encomium ; for it is obvious that the 
 funeral oration, not less than political and forensic eloquence, passed entirely into the 
 sphere of theory prescribed by Greek rhetoric. But in Greek literature encomium 
 
 iHen«es, Vol. I (1866), p. 439. cola," Festschrift des Gymnasiums zuiii Grauen Kloiter 
 
 2 Edition of the Agricola, Boston, 1900. (Berlin, 1874) , pp. 293 11. 
 
 3 "Die Eatstehung und Tendenz des taciteischen Agri- < Die griechisch-rQmische Biographic, Leipzig, 1901. 
 
 29
 
 The Proconsulate of Julius Agbicola 
 
 was one of the progenitors of biography, and biograjihy is frankly recognized by 
 Polybius" as legitimately encomiastic, in contrast to the objective truth of history. 
 Thus, whether from the Eoman institution of the la udah'o fiincbr is, or from the analogy 
 of Greek prototypes (or from both sources), the Roman biographies of deceased 
 contemporaries were professedly laudatory. 
 
 It is not, however, to criticise the general results of Leo's investigations, but to 
 express a partial dissent from his conclusions concerning the Ayricola, that the follow- 
 ing pages have been written — and written, it may be said frankly, with some inward 
 reluctance against entering the field of so endless a discussion.'' But no question is 
 settled until it is settled right, and the very correctness of Leo's assignment of the 
 Agricola to its general place in the history of biography is a legitimate incentive to 
 expressing disagreement with a detail of his treatment — a detail, however, of no 
 mean proportions, since it has to do with considerably more than half of the life. 
 It concerns, as my title indicates, that part of the treatise which narrates the deeds of 
 Agricola's proconsulate in Britain, together with the introductory survey of the geog- 
 raphy and ethnology of the island and its conquest down to the time of Agricola's advent. 
 These clia[)ters, says Leo (p. 231), "are treated in a manner which removes them 
 from the character of biography. This fact has of course often been observed, and 
 attention has been called to it by many, especially by Andresen. To be sure, the 
 narrative has reference to Agricola, and from chapter 18 on he is the leading figure, 
 but not otherwise than a commander would be in any military history." 
 
 Nevertheless, there remain certain very essential differences between the greater 
 part of this narrative and the usual manner of historiography (as employed by Tacitus 
 himself, by Livy or Sallust), which make it incorrect, I believe, to afhrm that this 
 portion of the work is, in its essence, historical, or analogous to any historical narrative 
 in which a commander plays a similar leading role. 
 
 Before turning to the analysis of the campaigns of Agricola, I shall consider 
 briefly two introductory points which have a direct bearing on my main argument, 
 although they lie outside of the portions of the text which I have here chosen for 
 discussion. 
 
 Non ftniien jngebit vel incondita oc nidi voce mcmoriam prioris scrvitufis ac testi- 
 monium prnesentium bonorum composuisse. Hie inievim liber liunori Agvicolae soceri 
 iiici destinatus, jjrofessione piet(dis ant landaius erit ant excusatns (chap. 3, extr.). 
 It seems to be held very generally that this statement places the Agricola in relation- 
 ship to the Histories as a preliminary work of a similar kind.' But if tliese words 
 
 5X, 21 (24), 8 (cited below, p. 25). sein erstes Werk, desson uugebildeto Sprache er bei den 
 
 OAlthough Professor Leo's work is the immcdiato kOnftipren Loscni desselbon cntschuldiKi'n zu mttsson 
 
 stimulus to tlio present publication, yet the essential out- ylaubt; dcr Asricola ist uur (un VorUlufi-r, line Vorstudie, 
 
 lines of this study were formulated sc^veral years nKo, and uclcr wenn man will, eeradczu oin Theil der llistorion." 
 
 first presented in academic lectures of tlie autumn of 18iW. The general ten<lency of interpretation may bo seim from a 
 
 7 Andresen's is the most extreme form of this view {Inc. few typical utterances: " II<)C libro ut dipnissimo exordio 
 
 ctt., p. 301): " Die Historieu botraehtet er in der That als historica auspicatus est, etc." (Uaase, Tac. op., I, xix). 
 
 30
 
 Oeokge Lincoln Hendiuckson 
 
 be so interpreted, it surely must bo for reasons other tliaii tlie grammatical sense which 
 they yield. For without attaching any peculiar moaning to iufrrim, (1(m'b the passage, 
 in fact, say anything nit)re than that in tlio meantime, before the publication of a 
 historical record t)f the period through which they have just passed, this work is put 
 forth honori soceri met desiiiudus? That the present work (/u'c liher) stands in any 
 relation of kind to the promised one is in no way conveyed by the grammatical form 
 of the sentence. Whatever relationshi[) is suggested betwecm the character of the two 
 works lies implicit in the quasi-technical terminology, lucmorium (history) and honori 
 (encomium), and this relationship is rather one of ditference than of similarity. In 
 the lack of a sulficieiatly flexible theory of classification, history is, to be sure, some- 
 times associated with epideictic oratory (Cic, Or., 37). But Aristotle, it would seem,* 
 saw that history belonged in a separate category, and subsequent theorists draw with 
 utmost sharpness the distinction between history and encomium.'^ The goal of en(u> 
 mium is the presentation of to koXov {houcsiuin), of history to aXijOe^;. The former 
 may euphemize, suppress, amplify, in order t(j admit no impression })ut that of the 
 meritorious or praiseworthy; the latter is bound to strict objectivity and impartiality. 
 Accordingly we find in the preface to both of Tacitus's historical works the avowal 
 of unpartisan devotion to truth, which befits the historian/*^ Here, however, he says 
 with similar explicitness that the present work is devoted to the Jionor of his father- 
 in-law, Agricola. Its subject-matter is, therefore, honestd, such tilings as shall 
 redound to the praise of the person commemorated." Thus the phrase honori dcsti- 
 
 "Tacitus will also seiner Agricola .... als eine histo- 
 rische Schrift betrachlet wisscn " (Hoffmann, Z. f. 6st. 
 Gym., Vol. XXI (1870), p. 251). Of a more general character 
 and without specific reference to this passage, WOlfflin, 
 Archiv, Vol. XII, p. 116: " Dass der Agricola und die Ger- 
 niauia abor in das Gebiet der Geschichtsschreibuug fallen 
 uud iliren Platz ncbcu den Historien und Anualeu haben, 
 darf als zugestanden vorausgesetzt werden." Eveu Pro- 
 fessor Gudeman speaks of chaps. 18-39 (the npa^eis of .Agri- 
 cola) as the "strictly historical portion of his biography." 
 and on this theory justifies the presence of the speeches in 
 the Agricola (Int., p. xvi). 
 
 8 NicOL. Soph. (Sp. Ill, p. 483, IS) : 6 dr^p vap iKelvo<; .... 
 
 rerapTOV irapa to. rpia to. irpo^e^BepTo. to ioTOpixoc exaAeo-c. 
 
 There is apparently no suggestion of this in the l\hct. or 
 Poet., and from what work it is derived does not appear. 
 
 9C/. PoLYBins, X, 21 (24), 6, cited below, p. 25, and 
 LtJCiAN, Dc hist, cons., 7, who complains of historians as 
 dyi'oOi'Tes (o? ou aret-w tuj iaHiiiZ Bnupiarai koi SLaTfTii\iijTai if 
 iuTopia irpb? to eyjcut/Jtoi', aAAa Tt ;neya Ttij^o? iv ft.eo'ai etXTiv 
 
 avTiuv. It has seemed worth while to emphasize a well- 
 known distinction in view of Professor Gudeman's state- 
 ment, p. x: "In fact the line of demarcation between a 
 historical narrative and an encomium was a very slight 
 one." In support of this he cites Boxopater (Walz, II, 
 p. 413) : oiiSiv £ioi<TEi i/ztAij? iffTopias to iyKiOfjiiov. But a Con- 
 clusion based upon the apodosis of a conditional sentence 
 is insecure. The writer is discussing the definition of 
 encomium as a Aoyo? e<9eTiK6« and demands that nal au^Tjrv- 
 k6? shall be added: tn-€i el p.?) (Walz and presumably the 
 
 MSS. read pec) tovto npoaTiOrj, ovSew SioitTei i/<tA^s iffropia? rb 
 iyKu)ixLoy. The further iiuotatiun from Ammianus Marcel- 
 linus with which ho supports his statement is likewise 
 evidence of the distinction between encomium and history. 
 Ammianus, in the preface to his treatment of Julian, says: 
 "His deeds are so great that the unvarnished record of 
 them is in itself almost enctm^iastic — at/ laudativam paene 
 materiam pertinebif^ (XVI, 1, 3). Gudeman takes the 
 passage out of its context and causes it to appear as if 
 Ammianus had said that any historical record of events 
 is almost encomium. 
 
 ^^Hist., I, 1: sed incorrupt am fidem profcssis neque 
 amore quisquam et sine odio diccndus est. Ann.:, I, 1 : nu/e 
 coniyilium mihi pauca de Augu^to et extrema tradere.mox 
 Tibcrii principaium et cetera, sine ira et studio^ quorum 
 causas procul habeo. 
 
 11 For honestum (rb KaXov) as the goal of the genus laU' 
 dativum, v. the rhetoricians passim. Quintilian (III. 4, 
 16) criticises those qui laudativam materiam honestorxim 
 .... qunestione contineri putunt as restricting the field 
 too narrowly. For the application to a subject-matter 
 analogous to the Agricola cf. Plin., Ep., VIII, 12, 4: soUi- 
 citarer vel ingenio hominis .... vel honestatc materiac. 
 Scribit exitu.<i inlustrium virorum, in his quoi-undani mihi 
 cai^issimorum. videor ergo fungi pio 7nuncrc, quorumque 
 exsequias cclebrare nan licuit, hnrum quasi funcbribus 
 laudationil)US, scris quidcm sed tanto niagis vcris, interesse. 
 The phrase suprcmiis honor is used of the laVAlaiio funebri^ 
 in Qdint., Decl., p. 29G, G (Ritter). 
 
 31
 
 6 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 natus places the Agricola in a relationship of implied antithesis to the impartial truth 
 of history, and this implicit contrast is, I suspect, expressed further in the mild adver- 
 sative force which interim so frequently com])ines with its temporal significance. So 
 far, then, from indicating a relationship of similarity to the promised Histoi-ies, the 
 words imply rather a contrast, the fulfilment of a filial obligation before the author 
 turns to a task absolved from any considerations except those of truth. 
 
 The work is thus expressly dedicated to the honor of Agricola ; its subject-matter 
 is honestas as exemplified in him. That the praise of others, however great their 
 merits, is a source of envy and rancor instead of generous recognition, is one of the 
 tritest complaints of the panegyrist of all ages — urit eniin fnlgore sno qui irracgravat 
 aries infra se j)ositas. The complaint begins with the earliest prose encomium," and 
 its history can be traced through the whole ancient literature of panegyric. To this 
 weakness of human character Tacitus alludes in the familiar words at the beginning of 
 his preface: quotiens virtus .... supergressa est ignorantiam recti et invidiam." 
 He would imply that in the purer days of Rome the appreciation of virtue was generous, 
 as the opportunity to display it was easy. But since we must reckon with the jealousy of 
 a baser time, one must ask indulgence for the bestowal of praise. The plea is justified 
 by the filial relation of the biographer to his subject (professione pietatis). Tacitus 
 gives, it will be seen, a certain specific motive to the famous petitio veniae in the 
 degeneracy of the times. But this is no more than a touch of art to deprive the plea 
 of a certain general and commonplace character by assigning to it the appearance of 
 a reason peculiar to the author or the time. For as the complaint of the invidia 
 ((^^o'i/o?) which the praise of merit encounters is a commonplace in encomiastic litera- 
 ture, so the petitio vcniac was a recognized device of rhetoric to anticipate and con- 
 ciliate the prejudice which envy would inspire. Examples are not, however, numerous 
 or, at all events, have eluded observation. The theoretical formulation of the matter 
 is given very briefly by the rhetorician Apsines in the chapter wepl Bir]yi]aeQ3<; (Spen- 
 gel, I^, p. 257, 20): al ixev ovv iyKWfjiiaa-TiKal ( Siriyy]CTet<i ) Kal evepyeatwi' Sie^oBov 
 ej^ovaw avTai Toivvi> TrofjLTriKcijTepat Kal iravijyvpiKuiTepaf TrpoaeaTi Be avrai-i to eVa^^e? 
 [invidia)' tovto toivvv iiravopOcoTeov rj hia rS)v TrpoTrapaiTijaeo}!' (dcprecdtiuncs, jx'ti- 
 tiones veniae) r) tw itpayicalov heiicvvvai, top \6yov tcl iroWa TrpoaTrocovpievov TrapaXeiiretv 
 7j i^ avaipecreoy; to, iroWii eladyovra ktX. Cf. also Aristides, Sp. II, 500, 8: tov he 
 fiT] cf)opTiK(i)<; inraivelv .... rpuTroi elalv oi'Se. -wponov . . . . w? avuavayKaaOek eirl tovto 
 BoK^ (7vi>eve)(6r]vai .... rpiTO? Tpotro'i OTav irplii elTrelv tj avyyi'iofj.yji' e'c^' ot? av fieWr) \eyeiv 
 alTrjTai ktX. Another axample of such a TrpoTrapatTijait we may learn of, or rather 
 infer, from Pliny's account of an address which he had delivered on the dedication 
 of a library at Comum, and was preparing to publish. The subject-matter was enco- 
 miastic, and dealt with his own generosity and that of his parents: ancej)S hie et tnbri- 
 cus locus est, etiam cum illi necessitas lenocinaiur. The necessitas [cf. the passage 
 
 12 C/. IsOC, Euag.^G: rovriav 6' airto? o '/iCdi'O? ktA. I'tf/.TlIflON (n-, i'y«.), Sp. IT. lin, 1:1: Ka\ai it ttiTi n-pofel? 
 
 , , . , Tui- not' iToAAwt' </t9oro»' UTTep/iaAAo/jiti'ai. 
 
 32
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 
 
 of Aristides above) lay in tlio filial duty to commemorate adequately the munificence 
 of liis parents, and this ol)ligation of filial affection afforded a ground of indulgence 
 [loiocinafiir), without, however, wholly eliminating the ditlieulties which envy imposes 
 upon all praise: etenirn si alienae qv.oqiia laudcs pnrum acquis anribus accipi solent, 
 quum difficile est optincre ne molesta vidcdiiir orallo de se aiit de suis disserentis? 
 nam. cum ipsi }ionesf(di turn aJiquanfo nKKjis (jiuriae eius jyfacdicationique invidemus 
 {Ep., I, 7, 6). 
 
 Tacitus thus conceived of it as a duty imposed by filial regard to write the life of 
 his father-in-law, and it could not occur to him to do this otherwise than in the form 
 of encomiastic biography, which tradition and personal feeling prescribed. But to 
 the difficulties of pi-aise which lie in the nature of human relations was added the 
 special character of the times which ill brooked the prominence of the individual. It 
 was, therefore, a matter of special art to find a form which should accomplish the 
 desired end of laudatory biography without the offense which simply encomium was 
 certain to convey. For the early life of Agricola there was no reason why the ordi- 
 nary forms of biographical characterization should not suffice (4—9). In the praise 
 of the youthful Agricola there could be no offense. But the events on which his real 
 claims to a lasting place in memory should rest, and in which his greatness of char- 
 acter was most fully revealed, his exploration and complete conquest of Britain, were 
 of a different character. Their importance was such, and they touched so closely, by 
 contrast or comparison, the interests of others still living, that a form of presenta- 
 tion was requisite which should at once accomplish the end sought, and, by the 
 appearance of historical oljjectivity, disarm criticism and envy. This part of the 
 work, therefore, is cast in the conventional form of history, and even with a certain 
 affectation of observance of the form where, in fact, it is deserted. It is at the same 
 time to be remembered that the conditions of biographical treatment of eminent 
 Komans under the empire were peculiar. The form of classical biography which 
 Plutarch presents has to do, in nearly every case, with men whose careers were varied 
 — political, military, literary, etc. But for an Agricola or a Corbulo the essential 
 matter of biographical record was the proconsular career. In his province the efficient 
 proconsul was a monarch about whose personality, for the time being, the history of a 
 part of the empire revolved. It was inevitable, therefore, that for such portions of a 
 life biographical treatment should pass over to some extent into the related territory 
 of history. But in such cases, though the historical form might be employed, the 
 record of events was likely to be, as in this part of the Agricola, essentially in the 
 manner of encomium. 
 
 What that manner was is well .known to us from the extant specimens of such 
 literature and from the theoretical precepts of the rhetoricians. In its most formal 
 aspects it is a classification of the Trpd^ea under certain aperai as rubrics. It is thus 
 that Cicero praises the scientia ret militaris, virtus, auctoritas, felicitas of Pompey by 
 illustrations chosen from his career. The rhetorical formulation of this method may 
 
 33
 
 8 The Proconsulate of Julius Agkicola 
 
 be illustrated by a single citation from the theorists (Menander, Sp. Ill, p. 373, 5): 
 Biaipei aTravTa-)(ov ra? irpd^ei'i 5)v av fxeWrj'; iyKw^id^eiv ek ra? aperd'i. More analogous 
 to, and yet in details very different from, the Agricula is the narrative part of the 
 Agesilaus, which is introduced with the words (I, 6): oaa ye fxip ev rrj ^acriXeia 
 SieTTpd^aTO vvv ijSyj Biyy^aofiai • airo yap rwv epycov Kal tou? rpoTrovi avTOv KdWicTTa 
 vo/j.i^(o KaTaBi]\ov<; 'iaeaOau A single further illustration of the method may be added 
 from an encomium of Julian's, in Constant., p. 4 D: e'^' diracn he tovtoi'; (^TrpoaijKei) 
 watrep yvcopiafiara twv tj}? ■\frvxv'> ciperoov to? Trpd^ei'; 8i£\6eli>. Brief recognition of 
 this conception of biography is made by Tacitus himself in chap. 1: (ideo virtufcs 
 {sdem tcmpon'bus optinie (icstinunitirr qvibus facUlime gignunfnr. That is, the 
 literary record of a life is essentially a presentation of virtutes, or character, as illus- 
 trated in a man's deeds (facta moresque poster is tradere). It is from this point of 
 view that most of the chapters under consideration are written. How widely they 
 differ from Tacitus's historical manner will be illustrated below. Concerning the first 
 chapter of the geographical description of Britain (10), and the motives for the 
 uprising in the administration of Suetonius Paulinus (15), a wend later ; but now let 
 us turn to the campaigns of Agricola in illustration of what has been said above. 
 
 In the first summer, although it was already half gone, Agricola made two 
 important expeditions, the one against the Ordovices, and the other against the island 
 of Moua. Both are narrated rather as revealing the energy and discernment of 
 Agricola than as historical events of significance in themselves. The army looked 
 upon its campaigns for the season as over, and the enemy were on the watch to 
 follow up an advantage recently gained. Meantime they awaited quietly an oppor- 
 tunity to test the temper of the new legate. The troops were dispersed to their 
 stations, the conditions were adverse to an expedition for that season [tarda et 
 contraria J)elhini incohaturo), while the advisers of Agricola iii'ged against offensive 
 operations. The whole situation is studiously f)resented to show the allurements to 
 inactivity which confronted Agricola. It affords thus a background against which to 
 set in effective contrast the energy which he at once displayed. The expedition 
 against the Ordovices was immediately followed up by the invasion of Mona, the 
 motive assigned for which reveals the characterizing significance of the narrative [nan 
 ignarus instandum famac). The difference between this account of the invasion of 
 Mona and the one described in Ann., XIV, 29 (under Suetonius Paulinus) is especi- 
 ally significant of the distinction between the historical and the encomiastic method of 
 treatment. In the Agricola practically the whole of the highly rhetorical narrative is 
 directed to showing the ingenuity and perseverance of the leader in finding means of 
 getting his troops across in the absence of ships, and to describing the effect of 
 wonder and dismay which the display of such resourcefulness produced upon the 
 islanders: ita rej)ente inmisit, ut obstupefacti liostc^, (jiii rhis.^cni, <jiii naris, (pii mare 
 expectabant, nihil ardiium ant invictuni crcdidcrint .s/c ad bclluni vcnicntil>us. The 
 
 34
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 9 
 
 whole passage is a striking example of a higlily elaborated av^tjaK (almost to the 
 point of frigidity), din'cted to the praise of the ralio ct ronslditlid duris (vs. 20). 
 Contrast with this the simple statement of the same method of invasion in Ann., XIV, 
 29: equites vada seciiti ant altiores inter undas adnantcs equis framisere. There 
 follows then, in the Annah, a vivid pictui-e of the natives of the island gathered 
 upon the shore, the fanatical behavior of tlie Druids, the; alarm with which the scone 
 inspired the Romans, the rout of the inlial)itauts, the static ming of a garrison, the 
 destruction of the sacred groves, and an allusion to the custom (jf human sacrifice. 
 In the one case we have a narrative of facts and events of a universal, historical 
 significance; in the other, the rhetorical amplification of a single point to illustrate a 
 quality of an individual character.'* The remainder of the chapter is expressly 
 devoted to drawing inferences for the characterization of Agricola from the d(H'ds of 
 this first season: renown and recognition which followed (clarits (ic iiidf/iiKS hdhcri), 
 contrast of his vigor with the ostentation and inactivity of others in the beginning of 
 their administration (^quijype cut ingredientem j)i'ovinci(iiii, quod iemjms alii 'per 
 ostentationem, etc.), modesty of bearing in the face of success (dissimulatione famue 
 famam auxit). 
 
 Apart from the emphasis thus laid upon characterization as distinguished from 
 narrative, the chapter reveals a consfjicuous feature of encomiastic style in the con- 
 stant employment of comparison (avyKpiaii;), express or implied."^ I have pointed out 
 above how the whole situation on Agricola's arrival is presented with careful reference 
 to affording a background of obstacles against which to display the efficiency of 
 Agricola in overcoming them. Of a similar character are such explicit contrasts as 
 (vs. 10): et plerisqne cnsiodiri suspccta potius videhaiur; or (vs. 27): quod tcmpus 
 alii .... transigitnt. To this syncritical figure i^aj^rjixa avyKpi.TiKov) belongs also 
 the rhetorical aii^ijcri'; cited above, expressing the surprise of the inhabitants of Mona, 
 who had looked for an invasion by a fleet and, in dismay at the unwonted attack, 
 thought nothing invincible sic ad bellum venieidibiis. 
 
 In the jmssage of the rhetorician Apsines quoted above (p. (>}, one of the resources 
 of encomiastic narrative is designated as avaipeai<;, that is, so to speak, the paint- 
 ing of a negative background against which to set in sharper outline a positive 
 picture. It is obviously a form of the (rj^rnia avy/cpiTLKOv. It was recognized as a 
 means of lending dignity and impressiveness to style,'" and in practice it is constantly 
 
 ^^Cf. LuciAN, Quomodo hist, cons., 1 (speaking of the other examples are for the most part implied comparisons 
 faults of historians): d/ieATJaarT*:? oi woAAoi auTwi' tou iaToptii- (introduced with such phrases as non aUus, non ut pie- 
 
 Ta yeytvr]^i^ya Tot? iiraivoii Tuiy ap\6vTuiv Kai <npaTr)yi>iV ei'Siarpt- riquc, or with the figure of avaiptai^) merely touched in 
 
 ^ovaiv. passing. The theory of them would seem to be alluded to 
 
 by NiC. Soph., Sp. Ill, 481, 17: iVa fxrindi'Tj] e*cAiiT)7ac (6 Adyos) 
 p.6vT}V fj.vijiJ.riV TJOtoviJ.ivittv ijt^tiiv .... Treipaero/ieda ei? aperd? 
 avatijipsiv rds Trpafets Ka\ en-ayei^ Kara juepos Tas (TvyKftiatt.^, 
 
 ii> On the encomiastic significance of cruyKptai? in gen- 
 eral, see the writers of TTftoyvp.va.fTy.ara, TiiEON, Sp. II, 112; 
 Aphthonius, ibid,, 42; Hermogenes, ibid,, 14, andpaasim, 
 
 C/. HeEMOG., 13, 3: peyiarrj 5c iv rols iyKujpioi<; a<l>opp.rj i) ajrb 10 HekMOGENES, ir. iSt'io^ (Sp.II, 307.3) : ffX'i**'^''*^'' ^^M^^pa 
 
 Tuv avyKpiaetov, The avyKpiaf; was sometimes formal and oaa Ka'i eueiSij, olov al acaipetrei? kt\. Cf. also Sp. Ill, 125, 13, 
 
 elaborate, sometimes merely incidental. The most formal and 130, 8. 
 uvyKpttrti in the Agricola is in chap. 41 (cited below, p. 31 ); the 
 
 35
 
 10 The Proconsulate of Julius Agrioola 
 
 found in professedly encomiastic passages. It is especially frequent in characterizing 
 descriptions, as, for instance, in chap. 5: nee Agricola licenter, more iuvenum ([id 
 
 milifiam in lasclviain vertuiit,nequ.e scgniicr, etc sed noscere 2»'ovmciam, etc. ; 
 
 or, again, chap. 8: ncc Agricola Hinquam in suam famam gestis exsultavit: ad 
 auciorem ac duccm id minister fortunam referebat. See also the wliole of chap. 9. 
 In all these cases it is constantly combined with (as in the first example from chap. 5, 
 above), or is the expression of, a avyKpia^. The form 7iec or non (frequently repeated 
 in anaphora), followed by sed, is the most common. Or, as above, in the example from 
 chap. 8, the positive antithesis may be introduced in adversative asyndeton. The 
 phenomenon is one of considerable interest as an index of stylistic tone, and deserves 
 more detailed investigation along with the whole question of rhetorical avyKpiai^. It 
 is this figure of ava(pecn<i in which the concluding words of the chapter are cast: nee 
 Agricola prosperitute rerum in vaniiatcm iisus, expeditionem aid victoriam vocabat 
 victos continiiisse; ne laureatis qnidem gesta p)rosecuius est, sed ipsa dissimidatione 
 famae famam auxit, aestimantibus qiuinta fidiiri spe tarn magna tacuissct. 
 
 Chap, ly contains a description of the civil administration of Agricola. It does 
 not record particular measures which he introduced to perfect the internal organization 
 of the province, but characterizes his discernment (^animorum jn'orinciae prudens) in 
 the recognition of the source of evil, and his wisdom and justice in a reform. The 
 only matter of a general historical value which the chapter contains is the explanation 
 of the abuses which had marked the exaction of tribute before Agricola, appended 
 as a contrast to the characterization of his reform in this respect. 
 
 As in the preceding chapter, so here, expressed and implied avyKpiait; plays a 
 prominent rQle: doinum siiani coercuit, quod 2^t<'>'isque Itaud minus ardutim est quam 
 provinciam regere (vs. 4) ; cireumeisis quae in quaestum reperta ij^so tribido gravius 
 tolerabantur (vs. 14) — an implied a-vyKpiai<; which is then elaborated in the description 
 of former abuses. Note especially the end of this section, which the editors paragraph 
 absurdly with chap. 20: hacc primo si<dim anno coiiipriincndo cgregiani famaui pad 
 circumdedii, quae vcl incuria rel intolcrcidia prioruni baud minus quam Jiellum 
 timebatur. The words summarize in the form of a contrast the encomiastic sig- 
 nificance of the preceding characterization. The figure of avaipeaa is a marked 
 feature of the style of this section also. 
 
 The narrative of the second summer is perhaps the best illustration to be found 
 of the statement made above, that the conventional form of an annalistic record is 
 preserved in these chapters, where on examination the matter is found to be purely 
 characterizing and encomiastic. This brief section, set otf in the historical manner 
 between the words sed ubi aestas advenit (20, 3) and sequeits Iiiems (21, 1), contains 
 ncnthcr topogra])hy nor names. It is a chapter of characterization pure and simple, 
 and the effort of commentators to locate the geography is futile, if not absurd.'' The 
 
 '" C/. WAi.rn, p. 282, Guduman, ad lor., and Fur- nnd forests (oc*7Karia ac sllras) aro acain alluilcil to in 
 NEAUX, /»(., p. 40. Fiirnoanx . 'Kills in a luitn : "Tlio friths AKrieola's siKjoch. chap. .33, 19. Tho s/ZiVic also nuMiLionod iu 
 
 3(j
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 11 
 
 words themselves show that there is no thought of describing historically recorded 
 operations, Imt merely of displaying Agricola in the ca[)acity of leader: sad tibi aestas 
 advenit, contracto cxerciiii inullua in (ujiiiine, Umdarc modcstiuiii, disiectos coercere; 
 loca castris ipse capere, aestuaria uc silvas ipse prastemptare; et nihil interim apud 
 hostis quietum pati, quo minus suhitis excursibus popularetur j utqiie ubi satis terruerat, 
 parcendo rursus ini'itamcutd pacis ostcntare. The form is the so-called historical 
 infinitive which we have seen in the preceding chapter and which plays so large a role 
 elsewhere in abstract characterization.'* The conclusion of the chapter returns to the 
 convention of an annalistic narrative and gives as the result of the campaign a con- 
 crete statement: ut nulla ante Britanniae noi'a pars ^paritcry illacessita transierit. 
 But, as we have seen, the part of Britain in question is assigned neither geographical 
 location nor name. It is merely a stage on which to display Agricola in the role of 
 an efficient leader. 
 
 In similar alternation, as at the end of the first year's campaign, the next chapter 
 is devoted to works of peace. The annalistic form is again preserved, and the chro- 
 nology of this activity is placed in the second winter of Agricola's administration. 
 But the briefest glance at the contents of the chapter will show how artificial the 
 annalistic formula is. For here are stated results which the whole seven years of 
 Agricola's office would scarcely have sufficed to accomplish ; in short, nothing less than 
 the transition of a people from relative barbarism to the refinements of civilization. 
 There can be no doubt that Tacitus means, in fact, to indicate the results of Agricola's 
 influence throughout his whole term of office. But the form chosen has the appear- 
 ance of referring the efforts of Agricola to a single winter. The description is 
 undoubtedly meant to furnish evidence of the wholesome plans [salnbcrrima cousllia) 
 of Agricola for his people, and the satirical remark at the end, idqne apud impcritos 
 humanitas vocabatur, cum j^ars servitutis essef, is in reality marginal, so to speak — 
 a gloss of Tacitus the satirist upon the text of Tacitus the encomiast. 
 
 The campaign of the third summer gives us, at length, the suggestion of a 
 geographical location; but it is worth while to note how little significance is attached 
 to the historical narrative, and how it is wholly devoted to illustrating the efficiency 
 of Agricola: tcrtius e.rpeditionum annus novas gentis apcruit, vast(dis usque ad 
 Tanauni .... nationibus. The encomiastic element contained in the statement of 
 new discoveries [sumendae res .... norifafc priniae, Cic, De Or., II, 347) consti- 
 tutes the main sentence, to which is appended a statement of the operations and their 
 location. The sentence following similarly looks to the praise of Agricola, in that 
 even under adverse conditions his army was not attacked: qua for mid ine territi hostes 
 qiiamquam conflictatum saevis tempestatibus exercitum lacessere nan ausi. The narra- 
 
 both places appear to suit those parts, but are probably '■'^Witli the whole passage cf. Statius's characteriza- 
 
 less distinctive." This reference to Agricola's speech tioii of Bolanus (Silv,, V, 2, 41) : Bolariiis iter praetwsse 
 
 should have sufficed to show that the writer is deal- t'lDu^ndum^t Bolanustutis luoa(iuacrerecommodacastris,\[ 
 
 ing with a most general description of the difficulties metriri Bolanus af/ros, aperire tnaUfjnas I, iofrentum nemo- 
 
 which confront the march of an army. (C/. 33, 1-1; 31, 6; rutuqite moras {cf. aestuaria ac silvas praetemptare), etc. 
 
 26, 13.) Cf. also the Ps. TibuU. panegyric of Messalla, vss. 82-8. 
 
 '37 
 
 ••J 
 
 .24
 
 12 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 tive contiuues: ponendisqiie insuper casfcllis spatium fait — a statement which is made 
 the starting-point for a characterization of Agricola's strategic skill in selecting suit- 
 able places for fortification (and, with discerning regard for the persuasiveness of his 
 description, it is put in the mouth of military experts who accompanied Agricola) : 
 adnotabant p)criti non alium diicem opportunitcdes locorum sapient ins Icgisse. The 
 encomiastic crvjKpiai'; contained in these words [non alium duccm) is continued in the 
 following, where the despair of the enemy in the face of constant attacks is explained: 
 quia soldi plerumque damna acsfafis hihcritis evcrdibus pensare turn aestate atque 
 hieme iuxta prJlchaidur. The remainder of the chapter is wholly characterizing: nee 
 Agricola umquam per alios gesta aridus intereepd, etc. At the end we have the 
 only example which the work afPords of allusion to a quality of Agricola's character 
 which was open to criticism and had, apparently, in fact been criticised by his 
 subordinates and soldiers: aj'ud quosdam acerhior in coiwieiis narrahatitr, etc. But 
 it is a mistake to believe, as has often been said, that this passage furnishes evidence 
 for the impartiality of Tacitus's characterization. On the contrary, it is evidence of 
 the encomiastic tone of the whole. That is, a criticism which was made i;pon Agricola 
 by others is accepted, but not allowed to stand without interpretation: he was, to 
 be sure, harsh, but adversus malos; to the good he was ever kindly [comis bonis). 
 The rhetorical theory of such avrideaei'; (that is, things which stand in the way of 
 praise) and of their appropriate \i5crei? is alluded to by the technicians, for exam{)le, 
 Nicolaus Sophista, Sp. Ill, p. 481, 28: ^ijttjtsov &', el avTideaiv eiriSe-x^eTai to eyKcofiiov. 
 . . . . el Se i^ IBia^ovar]^ liX.?/? e/j.Treaoi, 6 airoKpvyjrai ov BvvdfieOa Sia to tov aKpoar-qv 
 avTO ^ijTetP, TTj re ixedohw avTO Kadaipi]aofiev Kal ra? \vaei<; eird^Ofxev la^vpoTepa<;, iva 
 TravTa-)(o6ev to tI)'; dvTiOeaew; /3\a/3o? \vijTat [rf. also Menander, ibid., p. 370, 30). 
 The final words of the chapter afPord an implied avjKpiai<;, which, as editors have seen, 
 probably contrasts Agricola with Domitian: Ceterum ex iracundia nihil supererat 
 secretiiDi, uf silridinm eins non fimeres: Jionestiiis pidahcd njfendere qnam odisse. 
 
 Chap. 23 tells briefly of the regular occupation [obtinendis) of the territory 
 which had been explored in the preceding summer and winter, by which the conquest 
 of Britain proper was rendered complete [summotis velut in aliam insulam hostibiis). 
 The narrative takes much for granted, since we have learned of no specific expeditions 
 which would adequately explain the subjugation of all parts of Britain. But results, 
 with their significance for the [)raise of Agricola, rather than the historical develop- 
 ment of events, are the goal of Tacitus's writing, and this brief section emphasizes the 
 complete conquest of Britain proper in phraseology which shows that this success was 
 but a manifestation of that valor which would not stop until the extreme bounds of 
 the island had been exploi-ed. To be sure, Agricola is not named, but it is obvious 
 that whatever is here attritjuted to the ririxs exercituum is meant to stand for the 
 virtus Agricolae. 
 
 It is interesting to observe the art with which, by a series of cumulative expres- 
 sions, the encomiastic significance of the final penetration of Caledonia is enforced. 
 
 38
 
 CTEORdK Lincoln Hendrickson 13 
 
 Here it is merely suggested negatively as something without which a substantial 
 success would have been achieved (ac xt virtus excrcituum ct Romani nominis (jloria 
 pdlcrciur inrciiiKfs in ipsd. Brildiniia irrmiiius). In chap. 27 it is the ambition which 
 fires the army with enthusiasm i'nr furtlier advance [penctnnnhun Caledoniam inveni- 
 endumqiie tandem Britnmiiaa tcDninuni). In chap. 33 pride in the accomplished fact 
 is the basis of Agricola's appeal to the valor of his syldiers before the great battle 
 [finem Britanniae non fama nee rumore sed castris et nrmis tenemiis). 
 
 Chap. 24 is extremely vague in respect to geographical delail (narr jjriina traiis- 
 gresfius), and here again, as elsewhere, the emphasis rests u}K)n the encomiastic 
 implications contained in the main sentence: ignotas ad id iempns gent is erebris 
 simid ac p)rosperis proeliis domuit. The remainder of the chapter, devoted to the 
 description of Ireland and plans for its invasion, serves to illustrate the discerning 
 statesmanship of Agricola in recognizing the strategic position of Ireland with refer- 
 ence to Spain as well as to Britain. In the artistic arrangement of the work it aifords 
 a digression from the monotony of successful campaigns, and in this respect is com- 
 parable to chaps. 19 and 21, devoted respectively to the civil administration of Britain 
 and to Agricola's influence upon the private life and civilization of his province. 
 
 The account of the sixth camjiaign (25) opens with a brief statement of the 
 scene of operations and of the reasons which led to the employment of a fleet {partus 
 classe explorarit). These words are then made the starting-point for an elaborate 
 and highly rhetorical aii^ijaL'i, of which the encomiastic locus ex novitate [ab Agricola 
 primum adsumpta) affords the starting-point. It continues with a vivid and pictu- 
 resque description of the effect which the combination of a land and sea force pro- 
 duced, of the rivalry and enthusiasm of soldiers and sailors, of the despair and dismay 
 of the enemy. The whole treatment is declamatory and epideictic. Take, for 
 example, the phrase hinc terra et host is, hinc rictus Oceanus militari iactantia 
 compararentur. The high rhetorical color is obvious in itself, but a comparison with 
 the declamatory ejsigrams in praise of Claudius and his expedition to Britain (P. L. 
 M., IV, 29-36) will reveal more clearly the essential affinities of such language. A 
 single illustration may suffice [ibid., 85): oceanus iam terga dedit, nee pervius m/Zi || 
 Caesareos fasces inqwriuniquc tulit:\\ ilia procul nostra semota exclusaque cf/e/o, || 
 alluitur nostra victa Britannis aqua. The section is characteristic. Of the move- 
 ments of army or fleet we learn nothing, nor is any hint given of the geography of 
 the operations beyond the Bodotria. But, as we have seen, such information lay out- 
 side of the author's plan and belonged in the realm of history. He is here only 
 concerned to emphasize the fact that Agricola was the first to employ a fleet and to 
 indicate the effect of dismay which it produced upon the inhabitants. In the descrip- 
 tion which follows of the gathering of the Caledonians and their initiative in attacking 
 Koman strongholds, especially noteworthy for our purpose is the statement: regredi- 
 endum citra Bodotriam et excedendum potius quani pellerentur ignavi specie 
 prudentium admonebant. That members of Agricola's staff may have given such 
 
 39
 
 14; The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 advice, there is no reason to question. But their presence here is probably only a 
 foil against which to set the bravery and generalship of Agricola in clearer light. It 
 is another manifestation of the o-T^jJ^a avyKpiTiKov which has confronted us so often. 
 
 In the following it is to be noted that Agricola knows how to keep in touch with 
 the enemy's plans (cam vifcn'm cognoscit Jinstis 'pluribiis a<jmi)nbits irriipiuros) and 
 to foil the snare that they set for him [cum Agricola iter hosfiiim ah c.rploraloribiis 
 edoctus .... adsidtare tergis pugnantium iiibet,2Q, i). Such skill and knowledge 
 was a constant source of military encomium, so that it has even found formulation 
 in the precepts of the rhetoricians for encomium.'' At the same time it is not to be 
 denied that the historical tone is preserved in this chapter almost perfectly, and the 
 personality of Agricola here, at all events, is no more obtrusive than would be that of 
 a commander in almost any historical narrative. 
 
 This statement applies also to the opening of the following chapter, where, as in 
 23, by assigning a thought to the army, Tacitus makes it possible to utter with 
 rhetorical exaggeration what is one of his chief claims for the merit of Agricola: 
 excrcitus nihil virfuti siii invium ct penctrandam Caledoninm invcniendumque 
 tandem Britanniae terminum continuo procliorum cursii fremehant. The encomiastic 
 significance of these words appears most clearly when they are put in comparison with 
 the impatient statement of Pliny in N. H., IV, IG (102): XXX prope iam aiinis 
 notitiam eius Romanis armis non idtra vicinitatem silvae Caledoniae jwopagantihus. 
 Inveniendum tandem Britanniae terminum is the answer to this complaint. {Cf. 
 also the discussion of this passage above in connection with 23, 1, and 83, 12.) The 
 words which follow are the obverse of the syncrisis made above between the determi- 
 nation and skill of Agricola and the cowardice of his advisers: afque illi modo cauti 
 ac sa])icntes prompti post eventum ac magniloqui erant. They are followed by a 
 significant comment which reveals that Tacitus would claim for the merit of Agricola 
 the successes which a victorious army was prone to attribute to its own prowess: 
 iniquissima haec hellorum condicio est: prospera omnes sibi vindicant, adversa nni 
 imputantur. 
 
 Concerning chap. 28 (the revolt of the Usipian cohort) every defender of the 
 biographical unity of the Agricola has felt it necessary to discover an explanation 
 which shall bring it into relation either to the character of Agricola or to the artistic 
 structure of the work as a whole. But obviously it is futile to seek in it for any 
 element of characterization, and it is equally absurd to find in an annalistic narrative 
 of this sort the high emotional tension which calls for a moment of suspense before 
 the final denouement. But, though it cannot be said in any way to contribute to our 
 
 i^Cf. Menander, Sp. Ill, 373, 20: e»c</)paffeis fie koi Adxou? I, 51, 8: 8aUusf}U(% per quoa exercitui regressxts, insedere. 
 
 Kai iyeipai Ka'i ToO PaffiAeto? icaTa Ttuv n-oAtjxtwc Ka\ tujI' efai'Titoi' qUod f/JUiruilt f/wr/, otc. ; //>/</., II, 20 (after describiuff the 
 
 Kara Toy ^atriAfut^' tlra iptU on aii fiii' tov-; tKfivMv a6\oi><; Kai Germaus' plan of ambush) : nihil cx his Cacsdyl iucop^ 
 
 T(is fVeipat iia <i>p6fY}i7i.i' iytputaKf<;, fKelfoi &i Twf vnb trov irpaT- nitum, etc.; ihid.^ XIII, 40, 3: rcpeiitc (tgtncn liotnanutn 
 
 TotLtvuiy ovSiy avvitaav. The naive injunction of tlio rho- circumfundit (Tiridates)^ non ignaro ducc nostro, otc. 
 
 toriciau is almost oqualcd by tho bald simplicity of the Stativs^SUv., \, 2 {laudes Bolinii)^ AO, 
 practice of writers of the highest rauk. Cf. Tacitus, Ann., 
 
 40
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickhon 15 
 
 knowledge of Agricola, yet for his contemporaries the connection of this famous 
 adventure with his administration must liave possessed no little biographical interest. 
 The affair had made a sensation in its day, and the survivors wlio had reached Roman 
 territory through the devious paths of servitude and sale, reporting their adventure, 
 had attained a notoriety which we can only understand when we realize how vague 
 and remote the unexplored Northern Ocean was felt to be (^acfucrc quos .... indi- 
 cium tanti casKS iidiistrarit). These deserters had accomplished what neither Roman 
 military expeditions nor geographical explorers had as yet succeeded in, the circum- 
 navigation of Britain, and, according to Dio Cassius, it was only in consequence of 
 this that Agricola sent out his own expedition of exploration ((id, 20) : kuk tovtov koL 
 a\\ov<; 6 ' AypiKoXwi ■7reipdaovTa<; rov TrepiirXovv -TrefJLifra'i efiaOe Kal trap'' eKeivccv on vrjao^ 
 ecTTiv. Of this there is no suggestion in Tacitus, but a reason for suppressing the fact 
 might lie in the desire to ascribe the idea of circumnavigation to Agricola's own 
 initiative. Still, the account of Dio Cassius differs in some essential points from 
 Tacitus, so that it must have been derived from a different source. The fact of the 
 existence of a different account of the matter is in itself significant of the celebrity of 
 the episode, and still more the circumstance that it is essentially the only event of 
 Agricola's proconsulship which Dio records. It may be observed in conclusion that 
 Calgacus in his speech before the battle (.32, 19) instances this desertion as evidence 
 of the unstable organization of the Roman army. The episode is thus made by 
 Tacitus himself to contribute to the series of obstacles which the generalship of 
 Agricola has to overcome. 
 
 The following chapter begins with the record of a domestic blow, the loss of a 
 son — obviously an item of biographical rather than historical significance, and it 
 affords occasion for laudatory characterization of Agricola's conduct under this grief. 
 It assumes again the form of a avyKpiai'; [iicqne id pleriqiic forfiiiiii virori(m, etc.). 
 This brings us, then, to the confronting of the two forces at Mons Graupius, and the 
 speeches of the opposing leaders, Calgacus and Agricola. 
 
 The introduction of these harangues by the opposing leaders on the eve of conflict 
 is purely in the manner of historiography, for such speeches as are found elsewhere 
 in ancient biography are of a more personal and characterizing kind. They continue 
 thus the historical form which has been observed in the aunalistic record of Agricola's 
 deeds. The general's speech in ancient historiography has a manifold significance. 
 In part it is employed to lend color to the dramatic picture of the whole scene and 
 circumstances of the battle; in part to summarize the historical situation and thus 
 afford a setting for the event of victory or defeat ; again it is a means of characterizing 
 the speaker, and of enabling the historian to interpret by the general's own words 
 the character which preceding or following events reveal. Of these considerations 
 the last may here be dismissed, since there could be little point in the indirect charac- 
 terization of Agricola which the speech would afford, when he has already been char- 
 acterized directly in much detail. As for Calgacus, there is no reason why he should 
 
 41
 
 16 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 be characterized at all. He has not been named in the narrative before, and here he 
 simply steps forth from the throng for the sake of affording a personality to whom 
 words may be assigned, representing the situation from the side of the Britons. But 
 apart from the rhetorical opportunity which is afforded, it is obvious that the speeches 
 summarize the whole course of Agricola's conquests, and prepare the reader for the 
 successful outcome of the battle which was the crowning achievement of Agricola's 
 administration. 
 
 The burden of the first part of Calgacus's speech (30) is, that on the Britons there 
 gathered rests the last hope of freedom from the Roman yoke {Jtodiernuin diem .... 
 initium libcrtatis toti Britanniae fore). They are still free, but beyond them there is 
 no resource — nullae ultra terrae ac ne mare qiiidem securiim imminente nobis classe 
 Romana. In earlier contests against the Romans hope of succor had been derived 
 from the fact that they remained still uncorrupted by the touch or sight of servitude 
 [priorcs pugnac, etc. — a form of crvyKpicn<i with encomiastic suggestion, contrasting the 
 conditions of this struggle with all others which Roman commanders had engaged in 
 against the Britons) ; they were the last of lands and of liberty (nos terrarum ac 
 libertatis extremes), and their remoteness had defended them to that day: sed nunc ter- 
 minus Briiunniae patet, nulla iam ultra gens. Not satisfied with the conquest of all 
 lands, the Romans now penetrate the mystery of the sea [iam et mare scrutantur — 
 rhetorical aii^r)cn<;, from the side of the Britons, of Agricola's employment of a fleet). 
 The Romans (32) had been strong only by the dissensions of the enemy who were now 
 united. The Roman army is made up of diverse elements which adversity will scatter. 
 All inducements to victory are on the side of the Britons. The Romans are not 
 fighting for homes nor for native land. They are few in number, unacquainted with 
 their surroundings, and terrified by them. The Britons, Gauls, and Germans, who 
 make up the Roman army, will recognize the identity of their interests with ours, and 
 desert them as did recently the Usi[)ian cohort. 
 
 In this speech, apart from the reproaches which are directed against the nature of 
 Roman domination (especially chap. 31), there are two main thoughts developed with 
 all the resources of rhetorical art: (1) that Agricola had pursued resistance to Roman 
 rule to its last stronghold, and (2) that in this conquest the Romans were at a great 
 disadvantage to their adversaries from almost every point of view. Both are, from a 
 negative point of view, sources of eucouiiuui to Agricola in the successful outcome of 
 battle. 
 
 The speech of Agricola (33) begins with a rhetorical recapitulation of the seven 
 years of campaigns, and it reveals at once in this the main object of these speeches, 
 namely, to present, in the strong rhetorical light which usage rendered appropi-iate 
 for such military harangues, the claims which the author advances for the praise of 
 Agricola: For seven years he had c;inipalgne(l succi'ssfully with the cordial support 
 of his army [neque me mililnm iieque ros dncis iKiaiitiiii) against almost insurmount- 
 able difficulties (paene adversiis ipsam rerniii naturam). As a result they had 
 
 42
 
 George Lincoln Hendkickson 17 
 
 advanced beyond the limits set by their predecessors (cgrcssi ego veterum Icf/atm-um, 
 vos j)rioritm cxcrcHiiiim fcrminos), and now actually oi^cupicd the very limits of Britain, 
 which before were only known by vague rumor or ri![)ort [finon Brifcuiniae nonfdma 
 nee rumore sed cdstris et ariiiis ffiiciiii(s). The passage concludes with the exultant 
 iTn(f>(ov7]fj.a — inrcnla Brifaiiiiia ct sH.lxictd.'" With these words the speech opens, and 
 here for the first and only time is it possible for Tacitus to state directly in strong 
 encomiastic av^rja-i's the two claims for distinction derived from the deeds of Agricola, 
 his explorations {inventa) and his conquests {snhada). His speech continues with 
 conventional exhortation and praise to his soldi(>rs, and allusion is made to the difficul- 
 ties of their situation (ncqnc, ciiim iiohis ant locurnm radcm nofifiii, ant commccdiiaui 
 eadem dbundantia). At the entl of the chapter he alludes in romantic phraseology to 
 the glory of adventure and, if need be, of deatli at the very boundaries of the world 
 {nee inglorium fiierit in ipso terrarum ac naturae fine cecidisse).'^ The succeeding 
 section is taken up with conventional depreciation of the enemy, but the brief horta- 
 tory peroration returns to the encomiastic totto'^ with which the speech opened — tran- 
 sigite cum expeditionibns, imponite (ptinqnaijinta aiinis viagnnm diem, etc. These 
 final words contain the gist of the whole situation. They enable Tacitus to say what 
 in his own person he could not claim without invidious comparison — that Agricola 
 had set the crown on the work begun by Claudius; he had completed the exploration 
 and conquest of the island. By [)utting the words in the mouth of Agricola, in the 
 form of an exhortation to his army on the eve of battle, they are deprived of all arro- 
 gance or invidious suggestion of comparison with the merits of others. The device is 
 analogous to a well-recognized rule of ancient rhetoric which Aristotle formulates thus 
 [Rhet., Ill, 17, p. 14:18/>, 24): et? Be to ?/^o?, eireiBrj 'ivia irepi avrov Xeyeiv i) i7ri(j)0ovov rj 
 fiuKpoXoyiav rj avriXoyiav e^ei, .... erepov y^pij Xeyovra iroidv. We see here again 
 a conspicuous illustration of what we have noted above in the annalistic record of 
 Agricola's campaign, namely, the skilful use of a form peculiar to historiography for 
 the ends of encomium. Encomium, dealing with deeds of acknowledged greatness, 
 does not hesitate to dwell with epideictic amplification of language upon the merits 
 which are claimed for the subject of praise. But neither were the deeds of Agricola 
 so well known, nor was his place in the history of Roman conquest so generally 
 acknowledged, as to render such treatment possible ;'"'" nor, again, had his position been 
 one of such eminence that his merits could be exalted above those of other governors 
 of Britain without alienating the sympathy of men still living. Tacitus, therefore, 
 by choosing the form of a historical narrative, and b}' placing in the mouths of the 
 opposing generals the titles to praise which he would claim for Agricola, attained the 
 
 20QUINT., VIII, 5,11 : esf enini e/>/7)/iOnt'»)rt rei narnttac not expressly confirmed it: oy yip ISioy tovto tiovof tov flairt- 
 
 VCl- pvOOdtdC SUnitna UCCiClinQtlO, Acuj^ to eyicujfiiof, aAAi Koif'ov np'o^ Traira? Tou? otKoOiTas Tiji* 
 
 21 Cy. 7*. -L. Jlf., IV, 29 {referring to the expedition of n6\Lv" (Gudeman, Int., p. x, n. 1). The citation apart 
 
 Claudius). from the contest would seem convincing if we chose to 
 
 2- "That the essential features [of the ^a(7lAl«b? Aoyo?] ignnre tovto. But reference to the text shows that toi/to to 
 
 are common to biographical writing in general might have <'yicci>iioi' refers to the topic irorpis as a source of praise. It 
 
 been taken for granted, even if Menander (III, 369, 25) had is this which is "common to all the residents of the city." 
 
 43
 
 18 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 end at which he aimed, and avoided at the same time the odium which attaches to 
 direct praise. 
 
 That this portion of the Agricola which is presented in the form of historiography 
 looks consistently to the praise of Agricola will probably be conceded. It remains to 
 consider Leo's utterance (cited above, p. 4) that "from chap. 18 on Agricola is the 
 leading personality, but not otherwise than the commander would be in any history of 
 military campaigns." If this is true, then, of course, it must be conceded that a large 
 part of the Agricola is historical rather than biographical or encomiastic in treatment. 
 I feel convinced, however, that the foregoing analysis has supplied sufficient evidence 
 to refute such a statement. But it will perhaps not be carrying our investigation too 
 far afield, if we undertake to test the truth of this statement by comparison with the 
 history of another military campaign under the leadership of a general for whom the 
 historian entertains a similar warmth of personal feeling. The justice of comparing 
 Tacitus with himself in this respect will not be questioned; for if the comparison 
 reveals identity or similarity of treatment, or if, on the other hand, it reveals funda- 
 mental difference, we shall possess, so to speak, the author's own judgment as to the 
 literary character of this portion of the Agricola. 
 
 That there is a certain similarity in Tacitus's portraiture of Agricola and Ger- 
 manicus, each the successful leader of Roman arms in the establishment of the impe- 
 rial frontier and each the victim of an emperor's jealous hate, has been observed more 
 than once, and in general the two descriptions lend themselves very naturally to 
 comparison. But in the technique of characterization of the two men there is a 
 ditference so marked and striking that it can only be attributed to fundamentally 
 different conceptions of the nature and purpose of the two works. In the Agricola, as 
 we have seen (and I confine myself here exclusively to the record of campaigns, 
 chaps. 18-29), events are recorded and their significance for the personality of the 
 hero is pointed out in such a way as to reveal that the emphasis of the narrative lies 
 upon the characterization. It is, furthermore, noteworthy that not a single officer 
 other than Agricola is allowed to appear upon the scene by name, although it would 
 have seemed natural in a historical narrative to designate at least the commander 
 of the fleet which played so impoi-tant a role in the conquest of Caledonia, and which 
 accomplished the circumnavigation of Britain and the exploration of the Northern 
 Sea. In the reform of the civil administration of the island the Roman procurator 
 must also have played a prominent part, for without his co-operation such changes in 
 the levying of tribute as are recorded must have been quite impossible. It is not 
 too much to affirm that the encomiastic nature of the Agricola is responsible for such 
 suppression. 
 
 The cam{)aigns of Germanicus on the German frontier are described in the Aymals 
 beginning at I, 33, and continuing, with the interposition of some other material, as 
 far as II, 20. The account covers the ex[)editions of the years 11, 15, and 10 A. D. 
 
 44
 
 George Lincoln Hendkickson 19 
 
 It is, of course, a much more detailed narrative than the record of expeditions in 
 Britain, and this in itself would be an adequate explanation for the fact that the deeds 
 of the lieutenants of Germanicus come in for a conspicuous share of attention. The 
 three officers who had charge of fitting out the fleet in the third campaign are men- 
 tioned by name (II, 0), and even the name of an eagle-bearer who protected a Eoman 
 envoy against the mutinous violence of the legionaries is recorded (I, 39). But the 
 difference in fulness of narrative and historical importance of events, which might 
 account for such differences of treatment as these, will not explain the fact that 
 throughout this whole campaign, exceeding by many pages the length of the corre- 
 sponding part of the Agricold, the events recorded are very rarely used for the purpose 
 of direct characterization of the leading figure. Germanicus is almost constantly 
 before us, in speech or plans or action, but the reader is left to draw his own infer- 
 ences and to interpret the character dramatically from the course of the narrative. 
 There is not a single characterization of Germanicus in the field comparable to Agr., 
 20; nor, again, of his strategic skill in the selection and defense of camps as in 22. 
 There is no characterization whatever of the civil administration of his province {Agr., 
 19 and 21). In general, the narrative is dramatic in the highest sense, and scarcely 
 once does the writer lay down the role of narrator to point out the bearing of events 
 upon the character of his hero. Such characterization as is found is for the most part 
 implicit in the narrative. Exceptions are few and of slight extent, as, for instance, in 
 chap. 33, where upon the first introduction of Germanicus it was necessary for the 
 writer to place the reader in possession of his attitude toward him. It is given first 
 as an expression of the general feeling of the Roman people: kiuIc in GennanicKm 
 favor et S2)es eadem, a statement which elicits from Tacitus a jjersonal indorsement: 
 nam luveni civile rngenium, mira comitas et diversa ah Tiberii sermone vultu, adro- 
 gantibus et obscuris. But even this case differs from the examples of the Agricola 
 under discussion, in which the characterizing significance of events is pointed out. 
 
 Apart from this passage, throughout the remainder of Annals, I, the character of 
 Germanicus is unfolded only in action or in his own words. This will appear from a 
 survey of the passages of this book which convey a suggestion of personality. They 
 are so few that they may be adduced here. His unselfish support of Tiberius: sed 
 Germanicus quanto summae spei propior, tanto impensius pro Tiherio niti (I, 34) ; 
 he replies to Sergestes clemente response (I, 58), though the epithet is rather stra- 
 tegic than personal; his j)ictas toward the memory of Varus and his army (I, 01) ; in 
 the performance of the last rites on the scene of their defeat he placed the first sod 
 upon the tumulus — grafissimo vinnere in dcfiinctos et praesentihus doloris socius 
 (I, 62) ; Germanicus relieves the soldiery out of his own purse and assuages the 
 memory of disaster by his personal kindness (I, 71). 
 
 But the principal characterization of Germanicus is reserved for the eve of the 
 decisive battle (II, 12). The extraordinary reserve of Tacitus in his historical works 
 in the matter of direct personal analysis is nowhere better illustrated. The charac- 
 
 45
 
 20 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 terization takes a dramatic form, not that of the course of events, but the singular and 
 almost bizarre device of representing Germanicus as stealing forth in disguise into 
 the streets of the camp in order to test the temper of the soldiers by their own utter- 
 ances in their own haunts (II, 13): adsistit tahernaculis fruiturque fama siii. cunt 
 hie vobilitatem (Ikci's, decorem alius, plurimi paiieniiam, comitafcni, etc.'^ 
 
 Of more directly encomiastic character is a brief statement of Germanicus's 
 strategic skill in II, 20, where, after describing the plans of the enemy, Tacitus con- 
 tinues: nihil ex liis Cacsari tncognitum: consilia locos, prompta occulta noverat 
 astusque hosfium in perniciem ipsis vertcbaf; and just beyond: quod arduum sibi 
 cetera Icgatis p)ermisit. The passage is comparable to Aijr., 25 extr. and 26 init., and 
 is almost the only considerable passage of direct praise which the whole episode 
 contains. In II, 22, after giving the inscription placed upon the trophy raised by 
 Germanicus, Tacitus adds: de se nihil addidit, nictu invidiae an ratus conscientiam 
 facfi satis esse. The words furnish another illustration of the dilference between 
 encomium and history. As a historian Tacitus designates two j)ossible motives. 
 The encomiast would not hesitate to select the one which should yield the greater 
 praise to his hero. The contrast is well shown by Agricola, 18 extr. (after the suc- 
 cesses of the tirst campaign): ne laurc(dis quidcm r/csfa 2)i''>secufus est, sed ipsa 
 dissimulatione faiuae famam au.rif. To complete the list of passages which have 
 more or less direct characterizing significance for Germanicus, we may add the 
 description of the energy with which the war was continued after the naval disaster 
 to the Romans (II, 25): co promptior Caesar jiergit, etc., and the brief mention of 
 the generosity which was shown to the soldiers in making good individual losses (II, 
 26). But in all this there is but slight trace of that type of characterization (through 
 the implications of acts) which confronts us constantly in the Agricola. It is possible 
 that some passages have been omitted; yet I have gone over the text repeatedly, and 
 I suspect rather that I have included more than really belongs here. The difference 
 between the portion of the Agricola under consideration and the treatment of Germa- 
 nicus in the Annals is clear and marked. In the Agricola, although the external form 
 of historiography is preserved, yet in its essence the account is in the manner of enco- 
 uiiuu), in which, as was pointed out above, the Trpafet? are adduced, not as historical 
 events per se, but as indications of traits of character ( wcrTrep 'yvaipiaixara rwv t)}? 
 •<|fLiT^r;? apercov). 
 
 The truth of this statement will appear from a brief review of the princifjal 
 characterizing incidents and the encomiastic comment elicited by them which these 
 chapters of the .Agricola contain: The unexpected attack upon the Ordovices immedi- 
 ately u[)on his arrival, as an index of the energy of Agricola in contrast to the delay 
 advised by his officers and expected by the army; recognition of the importance of 
 
 23Tho signiflcanco of tliia episode for Tacitus's toch- ISiKl. Cf. also Norden, Antikc Kunstprosti, Vol. I, p. 87: 
 niquo of char.-icterization is pointed out by Uruns, Die "Tacitus, der grOssto Psycholoi^o unt(;r dun Historikoru, ist 
 PeraOnliclikcit in dcr antikcn Gcschiclttsucltrcihunfj. Korlin. ducli solir zurllcklialtend." 
 
 •10
 
 George Lincoln Hendeickson 21 
 
 following up a first success (no?i ignarus instandum famae) by the attack on Mona; 
 iiigouuity and perseverance (ratio ct constantia ducis) in fiiuliiif^ a means of crossing 
 in the absence of ships; contrast of tlie effect produced by his activity with the vanity 
 and ostentation of most proconsuls on entering their province; modesty in success 
 (18). Recognition of the wrongs of the province [animorum provinciae prudens) 
 and determination to make his reforms strike at the root of evils; discipline of his 
 own servants ; justice in the administration of civil affairs ; avyKpi,at<i with the care- • 
 lessness and harshness of his predecessors (19 and 20, 1-3). Efficiency as a com- 
 mander and characterization of him in the field (20). Encouragement of the arts of 
 peace (21). Conquest of new territory; strategic skill as shown in choice of sites for 
 fortification; persistence, in contrast to the relaxing of effort of predecessors; gener- 
 ous recognition of deeds of others ; interj)retation by Tacitus of his reputed acerbitas, 
 with implied a-vjKpim'; (22). Completion of the conquest of Britain proper and 
 determination not to stop at that point, ascribed to the virtus excrcituiim ct Romani 
 nominis gloria (23). Statesmanship shown in plans for the conquest of Ireland (24). 
 The first to employ the aid of a fleet (with strong encomiastic av^ijai';) ; bravery and 
 resourcefulness, in contrast to the cowardice of his military advisers (25 and 20). 
 Zeal of the army to complete the exploration and conquest of Britain, and enthusiasm 
 of the officers who had before counseled retreat; reflection that the merit of success 
 is claimed by all, the disgrace of defeat is attributed to one (27). Humanity of 
 Agricola in grief (21 ti- 
 lt is evident that in this record of events, with the characterizing comment which 
 accompanies it, we have portrayed, through the medium of typical deeds, a series of 
 qualities, and it is apparent that Tacitus aims to present to us an all-sided picture of 
 Agricola in the role of a provincial governor. He is shown to us not only as a warrior, 
 resourceful and efficient in the field, self-reliant, generous to his subordinates, and 
 modest in success, but also as a radical reformer in provincial administration, a patron 
 of the arts of peace, a statesman discerning the importance of further conquests for 
 the advantage of the empire as a whole. 
 
 If it has now been made clear that the essential affinities of chaps. 18-31) of the 
 Agricola are rather with encomiastic narrative than with historical, we may turn to 
 the consideration of some i)ortions of the section preceding, which sets forth the 
 geography and ethnology of Britain and gives a brief survey of its conquest down to 
 Agricola's time. The bearing of this portion upon the personality of Agricola has 
 generally been held to be even more remote than the record of his campaigns which 
 we have just reviewed. But let us turn at once to the text. In the opening sentence 
 Tacitus assigns as a reason for describing Brifanniae siturn popiilosqiie the fact that 
 the complete subjugation of Britain has put him in possession of knowledge which 
 others lacked. With their rhetoric he will not vie: the merit of his narrative shall 
 be fidelity to facts. The matter is presented thus with the appearance of utmost 
 
 47
 
 22 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 objectivity, and the name of Agricola is suppressed throughout. Tacitus speaks as a 
 historian who has made his investigations and now presents the results. The form is 
 distinctly historical and not encomiastic. But the moment the reader reflects that the 
 source of Tacitus's information is Agricola, and that he is the author of the explora- 
 tions which replaced ignorance and report by knowledge, it will be seen that the very 
 objectivity of narrative is encomium in its most persuasive form. Nor are expressions 
 lacking to impress upon the mind of the reader the indebtedness of history to him. 
 Throughout this chapter the encomiastic significance of each of the more important 
 items recorded is emphasized: the complete conquest of Britain (quia ium jrrimum 
 perdomita est); the certainty that it was an island [tunc primum Romaiia classis 
 circumveda) ; the discovery of unknown islands beyond [incognitas ad id tempus 
 insulas quas Orcadas vacant). The encomiastic value of such phrases may be seen 
 from the rhetorical doctrine of appropriate topics of praise as presented, for instance, 
 by Cicero [Dc Or., II, .347): suntcndae ?vs .... nocitate primae, or by Theon 
 (Sp. II, p. 110, 21): eTraiveral he elcnv at Trpn'^ei? .... Kal el n6vo<; errpa^i ti9 f) 
 ■jrpwro'; rj ore ovSek ktX. In practice it might be illustrated at great length, but one 
 or two examples will suffice: [Cons, ad Liv., VJ) ille .... ignotumque tibi meruit, 
 Romane, triumphum\\ protulit in terras imperiuynque novas. Cf. also the epigrams in 
 praise of Claudius's expedition into Britain, e. g., P. L. M., IV, ji. 69 (30): vicia 
 prius nulli, nullo spectata triumpho\\ inlibata tuos gens patet in titulos. Com- 
 pare also with the whole chapter the praise bestowed upon Cnesar by Antony in the 
 funeral oration which Dio Cassius presents in XLIV, 42, 5, where, after enumerating 
 the varied conquests and explorations of Ctesar in Gaul. Germany, and Britain, he 
 concludes : e/xySara fiev ra irplv ayvwara, irXaTa Be ra Trpoadev aSiapevvijTa .... Troirjaai;. 
 
 That Tacitus conceived of this matter as a source of praise to Agricola is here 
 only suggested in the manner pointed out. The full encomiastic import of it he 
 reserves for rhetorical elaboration in the speeches of Calgacus and Agricola [vide 
 su2)ra) : first negatively, in the words of Calgacus (chap. 30) , concluding with sed 
 nunc terminus Britanniae patet, and then positively, in the speech of Agricola — finem 
 Britanniae nonfuma nee rumore sed castris et armis tenemus. They are the counter- 
 part to the simple statement of the ignorance of earlier writers in chap. 10 [nondum 
 comjierta). Contrast also with the direct statement of the complete discovery and 
 subjugation of Britain in chap. 10 the rhetorial outburst of Agricola's speech — Britan- 
 nia inventa et subacta. One may compare further with the more sober description of 
 the remoteness of the extreme coast of Britain in chap. 10 [hanc oram novissinii 
 maris) the effective rhetorical appeal to the imagination of the soldiers in 83 extr.: nee 
 inglorium fuerit in ipso terrariim ac naturae fine cecidisse. To no inconsiderable 
 extent the narrative of chap. 10 paves the way for the more expressly encomiastic and 
 rhetorical treatment in the subsequent course of the work. 
 
 But, in spite of the soberness of tone of this chapter, there is noticeable a certain 
 exaggeration in the treatment of Agricola's explorations which can scarcely lie 
 
 48
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 23 
 
 attributive! t(j (ho author's ignorance of the status of geographical knowledge. For, 
 while Tacitus only affirms that Britain was then for the first tinn; circuninavigatpcl by 
 a Koman fleet, he still leads the reader to believe that this circumnavigation estab- 
 lished a disputed fact of geograi)hy [insulam esse Britanniam adfirmanit). But in 
 reality, as Furneaux observes (p. 23), all earlier writers — C;esar, Diodorus, SIrabo, 
 Mela, Pliny — speak of it without hesitation as a triangular island." Similarly it seems 
 hardly credible that Tacitus should be ignorant that earlier geogra[)hers had named 
 and located the Orkneys, and his claim that they were discovered by Agricola [ignotas 
 ad id iempus insnlas invcnit) is open to the suspicion of exaggeration from the mani- 
 fest hyperbole of the further statement concerning their subjugation [domuitquc). 
 
 In the rapid survey of the conquest of Britain down to Agricola's time, it has 
 impressed many as remarkable that ap[)roximately one-third of the space should be 
 given up to a statement of the motives which led to the uprising in the administration 
 of Suetonius Paulinus (reported indirectly in chap. 15). This whole preliminary 
 survey is designated by Andresen as wholly without relation to the personality of 
 Agricola, but this chapter he finds especially irrelevant, and sees in it evidence for his 
 view, that Tacitus in chaps. 10-39 is writing a history of Britain, and not a biog- 
 raphy of Agricola. As for the rest of this division, it will not, I think, seem remark- 
 able to an unbiased reader that the record of Agricola's campaigns should be prefaced 
 by a brief account of the work accomplished by his predecessors. It may not, how- 
 ever, be so obvious why in this very rapid sketch so much space is given to the causes 
 of the uprising led by Boudicca. But, first, to approach the matter negatively, it may 
 be said that, had Tacitus here been concerned only to write a history of Britain, he 
 surely could not have passed over the great battle, with which the insurrection was 
 quelled, so briefly [qnam iiuius proelli fortuna referi patieniiae restituit, 10), after 
 devoting so much space to the motives which led to the revolt. The treatment 
 of the episode in the Annals (XIV, 35-37) reveals what must have been expected 
 here of a historian: the wrongs of the Britons and the provocation to revolt 
 (indirect speech of Boudicca, chap. 35), exhortation of Suetonius to his soldiers (36), 
 description of the battle (30, 11 — 37, 8). The battle was one of the great and decisive 
 struggles of Roman arms against the resistance of Britain to Roman subjugation [clara 
 et antiqiiis victoriis par ea die laus parta), and, historically considered, was of more 
 significance than any of Agricola's conquests. It is obvious, therefore, that such a 
 hypothesis as Andresen's does not adequately account for the distribution of matter 
 as found in the Agricola. 
 
 The true explanation lies in the desire of the historian to put the reader in 
 
 2*QniXTiLiAN. VII, 4, 2, cannot be used, as it is by nia insula {nam turn ignorabatur) refer, of course, to a 
 
 Uelichs {De vita ct honor. Tac, p. 17), to show that the dechimatory theme assuming a time before Caesar's in- 
 
 iusularity of Britain was a matter of dispute down to vasion, and as is expressly pointed out, only imply that at 
 
 Agricola's time. The words ut $i Caesar deliberet an that time was the fact unknown. 
 Britanniam impugnet, quae sit Oceani natura, an Britan- 
 
 49
 
 24 The Peoconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 possession of the attitude of the people of Britain toward the Roman occupation. In 
 the record of the deeds of Agricola's several predecessors, Tacitus in his own words 
 records the character of each administration impartially and without calculated 
 depreciation, rising even to emphatic praise of the two immediate predecessors of 
 Agricola (17 in if.). But of the attitude of the islanders toward the Roman adminis- 
 tration he says nothing in his own person. This was the dark obverse to a history of 
 progressive conquest — the fact that Roman success had done nothing to conciliate the 
 loyalty of a conquered people, but had used its power for extortion and the gratifi- 
 cation of the lust of those in power. It is for this reason that the speech in the 
 Agricola contains a more general statement of grievances than the corresponding 
 speech of Boudicca in the Annals. The exposition of this state of affairs is assigned 
 with dramatic feeling to the utterances of the Britons themselves, and at the same 
 time the writer relieves himself of the odium of directing so serious an indictment 
 against the predecessors of Agricola. That some such explanation of the spirit which 
 had characterized the earlier administration of the province was necessary to afford a 
 setting for the reforms of Agricola appears at the beginning of chap. 19: Cctcriim 
 aniinurum provinciae priidcns., simulque doctus per aliena experivicnta parnm profici 
 armis si iniuriae scqucrentiir, causas heUorum statuit excidere. The reforms which 
 are then enumerated are, with approximate exactness, corrections of the abuses which 
 are complained of in the indirect speech under consideration. The concluding words 
 of this section set the matter in a very clear light (20 /;;/.) : haec primo stafiin anno 
 comprimendo egregiam famam pad circumdedit, quae vel incuria vel infolerantia 
 prioriini hand minus quam helium timebatur. 
 
 The foregoing argument has been directed primarily toward showing that, in 
 spite of the historical form in which Tacitus has cast his material from chap. 10 to 
 39, it still remains essentially biographical, with the encomiastic connotation which 
 that word implies. In explanation of the form I have suggested above the desire to 
 lend greater persuasiveness to encomium by the appearance of an objective historical 
 record and to avoid the invidiousness of direct praise. That Tacitus, at all events 
 (whether by design or not), has attained this end is evinced perhaps most conclu- 
 sively by the very fact that so many modern readei-s have found in the Agricola. a 
 historical rather than a biographical character. But for his own time I think it may 
 be fairly questioned whether Tacitus's eloquence was interpreted otherwise than as an 
 encomiastic utterance of filial piety, and by this I have no thought of impugning 
 either the character of Agricola or the honesty of Tacitus, but only of interpreting the 
 literary treatment of tlie subject. It is perhaps no more than an unwarranted 
 suspicion which I woukl raise concerning the probal)le treatment of tlie episode of 
 Agricola's administration of Britain in the lost books of the llisfories. ]3ut tlie fact 
 that subsequent historians do not refer to the opei'atioiis of Agricola in Britain 
 (Dio Cassius merely alludes to the desertion of the Usipian coliort and llie consequent 
 
 50
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 25 
 
 circumnavigation of the island) would lend color to the conjecture that Tacitus 
 himself, in his capacity of historian, claimed less for the merit of Agricola than he had 
 urged in the role of encomiast of his father-in-law. One bit of evidence Tacitus 
 himself aflPords, which is at least significant of the difference between encomium and 
 history. For Tacitus, although writing not earlier than the year 97, says simjjly, in 
 explanation of his reason for describing the geography of Britain: quia turn primum 
 perdomita est. But in the Histories (I, 2) he adds the important qualification: y;«y- 
 domita Britannia et statim missa. It is significant of the difference in the character 
 of the two works that the Agricola. contains not a word of the transient nature of the 
 conquests recorded. They are treated throughout as permanent results. The loss of 
 Britain, to be sure, might have been treated as a to'tto? -v/re/crt/co? against Domitian, and 
 in a historical treatment it would inevitably have found a place with the other disasters 
 enumerated in chap. 41 ; but in general it could only have been to lessen the praise of 
 Agricola to remind the reader that the fruits of his victories were, at the time of 
 writing, already lost. Of the same character is the unhistorical exaggeration in the 
 treatment of Agricola's explorations to which allusion has been made above. That a 
 conscientious historian might distribute emphasis very differently in biographical and 
 historical treatment of the same subject-matter is well shown by Polybius's allusion 
 to his life of Philopoemen (X, 21 (24), 5 ff.). After indicating the external differences 
 which would characterize the historical treatment of the deeds in which Philopoemen 
 played, a leading role, he adds (8): "For while biography, being encomiastic in 
 nature, demands a summary presentation of deeds with rhetorical amplification of 
 them, history, being indifferent to praise or blame, calls for a truthful and accurate 
 account of events with the consequences which follow upon each."'^ 
 
 Much confusion has been introduced into the discussion of the problems relating 
 to the Acjricola by the failure to separate the question of literary form from (he ques- 
 tion of ulterior political or apologetic purpose, which many have found in the 
 biography. So, for instance, Schanz cites Hiibner s and Andresen's theories of 
 literary form as alternative views to Hoffmann's theory of the apologetic character of 
 the treatise. But, while it is too much to say that there is no relation between these 
 questions, yet it is obvious that a laudatio funcbris might be an apologetic, political 
 manifesto (as we know, in fact, that such works effected a distortion of history in the 
 interest of certain families), and the same end could obviously have been attained 
 through the medium of a historical narrative. Generally speaking, therefore, any 
 demonstrable theory of form would not be inconsistent with any further demonstrable 
 theory of purpose or tendency. 
 
 For the settlement of the question of a possible political motive in the portrayal 
 of the last years of Agricola, our knowledge of the inner history of the time is 
 unfortunately inadequate. Practically all those who have found in the treatise the 
 
 2^tocrirep yap exttros 6 Toiros, vndpxniv tyK(u/iia{7Tt«6s, airijret 6 T^s ttrTopta?, koU'os u>r eiraiVou Kai i/*6yov, (Jtjtci Tor olAtjO^ Kal 
 Toi' Ktiita\attubr] Kai ^er" auf jjffcws Twf TTpa^etiiv a7roAoYL(T/i6f ' ovTui? Toi- /xer' d7ro5et^ew? Kai Twl' iKaaroii TTapenotieVbji' tTvK\oyi.(lp.6v, 
 
 51
 
 26 The Pkoconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 program of a political creed, or a vindication of the memory of Agricola (and so of 
 the moderate party) against the charge of dishonorable servility, have based their 
 theories in the first instance npon the famous words in chap. 42: Domitiani vero 
 natiira praeceps in iram, et quo obscuriuv, co ■inrcvocdbilior, moderatione iamcn 
 prudentiaque Agricolae lemebafiir, quia non contumacia neque inani iactaiiouc liher- 
 tatis famam faiumquc provocnhat. scianf, qtiibus maris est inlicifa mirari, posse 
 etiam sub malis principibus inagiios viros esse, obsequiumque ac modestiam, si 
 industria ac vigor adsint, eo laudis esceiidere, quo plerique per abrupta, sed ia 
 nidlum rci pubJicae usniii, anibitiosa morie indarurruni. 
 
 Students of Tacitus have debated hotly and with easy honors whether the prin- 
 ciple here laid down is consistent with the general attitude of our author elsewhere 
 toward the question at issue — a question which, from the time of Tiberius at least, had 
 come to be one of the most vital problems of practical ethics for every great and influ- 
 ential public character. Evidence from Tacitus's own utterances can be adduced on 
 both sides. We can show that the very men — Thrasea, Rusticus, Helvidius — whose 
 contumacy is here so vehemently assailed, are elsewhere touched with a kindlier hand, 
 and to the description of their deaths there is lent the suggestion of martyrdom. Even 
 in the Agricola, but a few pages farther on, Tacitus recalls with horror the share which 
 the senate was compelled to have in shedding the innocent blood of Helvidius, Rusticus, 
 Senecio (45). And similarly at the opening of the work these same men are instanced 
 as martyrs whose deaths put to blush the acquiescence of himself and his compeers 
 [dedimiis profecfo grande patientiae documentum). Surely in these passages there is 
 no thought of sjiaring himself for his share in the degradation of those last years of 
 Domitian's tyranny. Nor does Tacitus fail to record elsewhere with manifest admira- 
 tion utterances which reveal a bold but fruitless independence of spirit. On the other 
 hand, it is true that he praises the moderation of men who have known how to steer a 
 middle course infer abrupiam contumaciam et deforme obsequium [Ann., IV, 20). But 
 the essential ditference between this passage and other analogous exjjressions of politi- 
 cal prudence, as, for instance, the one just cited, lies in the form and tone. Elsewhere, 
 with a certain sadness and resignation, he commends acquiescence because of the fruit- 
 lessness of opposition. Here he passes quickly from the fact of Agricola's submission 
 to praise of his conduct, as an example of the glory that it was jwssible for a good 
 man of vigor and efficiency to win under a bad emperor. For myself I cannot escape 
 the feeling that the arrogant i-TriKpiai'; (^sciant quibus, etc.) rings false, and betrays 
 that the writer is making the worse appear the better cause for the ends which filial 
 devotion demanded. For, in the first place, it is not easy to see what there could have 
 been in Agricola's dignified acceptance, when it should be offered him, of a high pro- 
 consular post, which Tacitus could honestly designate as a "seeking for notoriety and 
 a challenging of his own fate by contumacy and a vainglorious atfectation of inde- 
 pendence." Would ncjt the more honorable and patriotic course have been to accept 
 the reward which his merit had won and await the consequences'? Agricola, of his 
 
 52
 
 George Lincoln Hendkickson 27 
 
 own motion, we are led to believe, would have followed this course, but was finally 
 persuaded and terrified by his frieTids (siiddeidrs simiil icrrcntesquc jwHrdTcrc ad 
 Domitiaimvi) into asking tlie ignoble favor of release from service. The humiliation 
 of the request to Agricola is the aspect of the narrative wliit-h most impresses the 
 modern reader; we are less concerned that Domitian did not blush at the odiousness 
 of the benefit he conferred. Is this, then, that middle course between cuntumticiu and 
 deforme ohsequium which Tacitus praised in Lepidus? Surely Tacitus has not spared 
 his pen to make us realize how hideous the acquiescence of Agricola was. After such 
 a scene we might concede a final judgment like that which is accorded to L. Piso [Ann., 
 VI, 10): iiulJius servilis sentenfi<te sponte auctor et qiioticns «rcr.s.s/7a.s iiifjrtteret 
 sapienfcr moderaiis. But one is led to the suspicion of special pleading, which always 
 played a large role in encomium, when we are asked to c<jndenni the simple course of 
 honor which Agricola might have pursued as headstrong and boastful, and are expected 
 to admire as the highest political wisdom a maxim generalized from a scene of humili- 
 ating submission. 
 
 But I claim only to give my feeling, based upon the repeated perusal of this 
 passage and upon a comparison with utterances of related character elsewhere in 
 Tacitus. I do not expect to carry conviction, on a subject which does not admit of 
 positive demonstration, to those who, having weighed the matter, find nothing unnatu- 
 ral or inconsistent i^^ the treatment. But I would point out that, had Tacitus desired 
 to give a favorable interpretation to an act of doubtful credit to his hero, he would 
 have conformed entirely to the theories of encomiastic style in handling the matter as 
 he has done here. Even Plutarch,^^ who writes as a biographer rather than as a pro- 
 fessed encomiast, urges that defects of character which the exigencies of public life 
 have imposed upon a man otherwise admirable are to be treated with an indulgent 
 hand. The theory of encomium went further and prescribed rules for the encomiastic 
 presentation of such defects. Aristotle, Rhet., 13G7a, 32: Xii-meov Be ical ra aweyyv^ 
 TOt? VTrap^ovaiv w? ravTa bvra, Kal Trpo'i eiraivov Kal Trpo'i y^oyov, olov tov eu\a/3P] yfrv)(phv 
 Kal eiri^ovXov kuI tov r/Xidiov ^prjcrTov kt\. (as here the acquiescence of Agricola is 
 called modvndio and prudentia, the other course which lay open to him contumacia 
 and hianis i<tctuiio Jibertatis) .... koI eKaarov 8' iic rwv TTapaKoKovdovvTasv ael Kara 
 TO ^eXriarov. The same doctrine as formulated by the late rhetorician Nicolaus 
 Sophista (Sp. Ill, p. 481, 20) applies to the case in hand more accurately: kuI etirov n 
 iXaTToyfia e;^e«, Kal tovto iretpaaofieOa TreptcrreWeiv €v(f)7ifJ.OTepoi<i Xoyoi'i, r-qv heiXlav 
 £vXd/3eiav Kal TrpofiijOeiav (^cf. iiiudcratidiic prtidentiaqiic) KaXovvre<;, ro he dpdao'; 
 avBpeiav Kal euyjrv)(^iav, Kal oXo)? del iravra i-irl to KaXXiov epya^ofievoi. That even in a 
 corrupt and debased state it is still possible for a man to attain distinction and lead an 
 honorable life {posse etiatn sub mah's jn-incipibus magnos r-iros esse) had been affirmed 
 by Seneca (De Tronq., 5, 3): vtscias et in (idjlida repubJica esse occasioneni sapienii 
 
 26 ClMON, 2, 4 ; Tas 6 tK JiaQov^ Tti'os ^ Ik jroAtTiftij? acayxTj? aptTi}? Tiros ^ xaxtas Tronjpev/J.aTa co/it^ovras ov htl Jra^u Trpodv/Jius 
 
 effiTpexouaas rats rrpofeffii/ a/xapTias xa't Kjjpa'i eAAci)i,oTa /ioAAoc ivo.-no<n]y.a.LVii.v ktA. 
 
 53
 
 28 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 viro ad se proferendum}^ The principle must have been a more or less conventional 
 one in encomiastic-apologetic literature, as Theon shows (Sp. II, p. Ill, 25): Xeicreov 
 on .... Koi iv 'TToXneia <^avKrj reOpafifievo'; ov Bi.€aTpd(})r], aWa Ttbv Kad' avrov apiaTO<; 
 eyeveTo, axrirep TlXdroyp ev oKi'^apy^ia. 
 
 The rhetorical treatment of circumstances in which an honorable course of action 
 is crossed by some exigency which leads to a less honorable course forms the subject 
 of a considerable doctrine in the theory of encomium. It is jJreseuted, so far as I am 
 aware, most fully by Cicero [De Inv., II, 1G6 ff. ). The subject is introduced in 166 
 with these words: ac de eo quidem genere honestatis quod ex omni parte jyropter se 
 petiiur satis dictum est; nunc de eo in quo utilitas qtioque adiungitur, quod iamen 
 honestum i-ocamus, dicendum vidctur. At 170 he passes to a new phase of the subject: 
 quoniam ergo de honcstate et de utilicde diximuti, nunc rcstat ut de eis reins, quas 
 his attrihufas esse dicchamus, necessifudiiie ef adfectio)ie perscrihamus. Concerning 
 necessHudo he continues in 17.3: ac summa quidem necessitudo videtur esse honestatis; 
 huic proxima incolumit(dis; . . . . hasce auiem inter se saepe neccsse est comparari 
 (as in our passage of the Agricola incolumitas is accounted the wiser consideration 
 because of the uselessness of opposition). Therefore, though honestas is the higher 
 motive, we must consider which of the two is to be consulted (174) : nam qua. in re 
 fieri potcrit ut, cum. incolumitati consuluerimus, quod sit in praesentia de honestate 
 delibatum, virtute aliquando et industria recup)eretur [c/. si industria ac vigor 
 adsint in our passage of the Agricola] incolumitatis ratio videbitur habenda. In such 
 a case vere poterimus dicere nos honestatis rationem habere, for only in personal 
 safety will it be possible to consult the demands of honor for the future. Therefore 
 vel concedere alteri vel ad conditionem alterius descendere vel in praesentia quiescere 
 atque aliud tempus exspectare oportebit, provided only the cause which impels us to 
 look to our temporary advantage (a(Z utilitatem) is found adequate quare de magni- 
 ficent ia aid de honestate quiddam derogetur. We must inquire, therefore, carefully 
 into the conditions which justify such a course."* 
 
 By way of summary of what has been said of the encomiastic character of the 
 Agricola and of the bearing of this fact upon the style and upon the apologetic ten- 
 dency of the work, may be noticed here Aristides's formulation of four rules of enco- 
 miastic treatment (Sp. II, p. HO.^, 10): Xajx^dvovrai he ol e-waLvoi Kara T/aoVoM? Teaanpa<;, 
 av^7]aeL irapaXeiyjrei trapa^oXji ev^ij/xia. Of each of these the Agricola has furnished 
 examples. Of rhetorical amplification we have seen examples in detail in the invasion 
 of Mona, the cuiployment of a fleet, and especially in the calculated cumulative effect 
 with which the complete discovery and conquest of Britain is presented. Of suppres- 
 
 27 It is a significant contrast to Tacitus's application Tacitus in the passage of tiio /l?in«?.t cited abov(i conc(3ru- 
 
 of the utt<'ranc() tiiat Seneca's generalization follows the ingL. Piso (VI.IO) : qv/itlens iieccssitas h^onicret sapicnter 
 
 example of the trial and death of Socrates. moitcrans, and perhaps also in Af/r., 3.1 cu-ti\: hicoluinitus 
 
 2" The same subject is touched upon briefly by QuiN- "" ''«««» eodem loco sita sunt. 
 TILIAN, III, 8. 'SL The theory is apparently alluded to by
 
 George Lincoln Hendriokson 29 
 
 sion (7ra/3rt'X.€c»/rt?) there are some minor examples, to wliich Hoirinaiiii especially has 
 called attention, and I have noted above the fact that the transient character of 
 Agricola's conquests is not allowed to appear. Of the use of comparison {irapa^oXri or 
 (TvjKpi(Tc<;) many examples have been adduced, and we have seen that it is one of the 
 most characteristic features of the style of the treatise. The most formal and elabo- 
 rate example, in which Agricola is contrasted with Domitian and his generals (chap. 
 41), is commented upon in the Appendix (p. 31). Of favorable interpretation {ev4>r]- 
 fiia) of acts or events which were at best colorless, or perhaps even censurable, we 
 have noted the explanation of the acerbitas of Agricola, and I have suggested that 
 the iiriKpiai'; in 42 [sciant quibus, etc.) with its context seems to be a rhetorical 
 defense of a course of conduct of doubtful credit. There are some other examples 
 which might be instanced in this category, as the comment in chap. (5 on the inactivity 
 of Agricola's tribuneship: gnarus sub Nerone temporum quibus inertia pro sapientia 
 fuit. 
 
 I am aware that investigations of the sort here presented are likely to be looked 
 upon as hypersceptical indictments of the historical accuracy of our sources. But with 
 questions of historical fact we are here only incidentally concerned ; the object of my 
 study has been to define, if possible, the difference in literary treatment between encomi- 
 astic biography and history. Unfortunately the means of direct comparison which the 
 treatment of the same events in the Histories might have afforded are not available. 
 In Xenophon the difference in the treatment of Agesilaus in the encomium of that 
 name and in the Hellenica led scholars for a long time to dispute the authenticity 
 of the former work. In Polybius, unfortunately, we do not possess the full historical 
 treatment of Philopoemen, and all trace of the special biography of him has disap- 
 peared. But that there was a considerable difference in the handling of the material 
 in the two works we must believe on the authority of Polybius himself, as was indi- 
 cated above. A pointed illustration of the differences between the two forms of liter- 
 ary treatment is afforded by the inconsistencies which are revealed in Tacitus's account 
 of Corbulo in the latter part of the Annals. The immediate source of his information 
 was, I believe, an encomiastic biography analogous to the Agricola. For large parts 
 of his narrative he follows this closely, and thus introduces into history the tone and 
 spirit of encomium. At other times he discredits its statements and endeavors to 
 maintain the objectivity of the historian. The result is curiously inharmonious. But 
 the detailed consideration of this question must be postponed to another time. It 
 was on the basis of a long tradition of biographical literature, composed from the 
 point of view of encomium, that Tacitus wrote the life of his father-in-law. That in 
 many instances, as we have seen, details of treatment correspond to the theoretical 
 precepts of the rhetoricians, is due rather to the biographical and encomiastic monu- 
 ments from which such principles were derived, than to a conscious observance of 
 rhetorical theory itself. 
 
 55
 
 30 The Proconsulate of Julius Agbicola 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Some miscellaneous observations are here appended which it has not been found 
 convenient to include in the continuous argument of the preceding: 
 
 5, 2: prima casfrorum riidimenta in Britannia Suetonio Paulino .... adprobavit, 
 electus quern contubernio aesiimaret. Cf. also 6, 18: electus a Galba ad dona templorum 
 recognoscenda, etc. 9, 22: hand semper errat fama, aliquando et elegit. The encomiastic 
 significauce of these passages is set in somewhat clearer light by the precept of the rhetorician 
 Theon (wtpl iyKm/xiov), Sp. II, p. 110, 25: Sei Si Xaiifiavciv Kai ras KpL(T(.i% Tu)v Ivho^uiv, KaOainp ot iirai- 
 
 voSvTEs 'EXci/ijv on 07JO-EVS TTpoiKpive. Cf. also note on indicium (43, 17) below. 
 
 9, 10: ubi officio satis factum, nullam ultra jMtestatis personam, tristitiam et adrogan- 
 tiam et avaritiam exuerat. So the MSS. Eheuanus's correction, which is generally adopted — 
 nulla ultra potestatis 2)ersona. Tristitiam, etc. — ascribes directly to Agricola qualities which a 
 panegyrist could scarcely name even to deny. The correction ot Uriichs — nihil ultra: potcs- 
 tatis personam, etc. — seems to me simpler, but I would retain the words tristitiam, adro- 
 gantiam, avaritiam, which Uriichs Ijrackets. Tacitus, iu characterizing the potestatis personam, 
 has allowed himself to ascribe to it, iu the detached manner of a sathical historian, the conven- 
 tional attributes of Roman provincial governors, unmindful that the mere mention of them in 
 this connection conveys a suggestion scarcely to the praise of Agricola. One may compare the 
 satirical remark at the end of chap. 21, which seems to suggest a sinister design in Agricola's 
 measures for the civilization of his province quite at variance with the writer's pui-pose as an 
 encomiast. Vide supra, p. 11. A parallel example is afforded by Isoc., Euag., 78, which, though 
 addressing a compliment to Nicocles, conveys a reflection upon the class to which he belongs: 
 
 TTyDUTOS Kai p.ovo'; tCiv fv TvpavviSi Kal ttXoutu) Kol Tpuc^uis ovTdiv <^tXo(TO(^£iv Kai Troveiv €7rlKCl(£ip7JKaS, 
 
 10, 6: Britannia .... spatio ac caelo in. orientem Germaniae, in occidentem Hispaniae 
 obtenditur. So far as I am aware, spatio ac caelo are universally taken as ablatives (of respect) 
 with Britannia, and as such have been felt to be and certainly are otiose. Thej' are, however, 
 I believe, datives in hendiadys {= spatio caeli) with obtenditur. Germaniae and Hisjmniae 
 are genitives depending upon them. The position of Britain in relation to Germany and to 
 Spain is designated by JH ociVHYe?)!. and »i occiV/cH/t'?)!. respectivelj'. "Britain lies iu the same 
 latitude {sjjatio ac caelo .... obtenditur) as that of Germany on the east and of Spain on the 
 west." In contrast to this more general indication of geographical position, v\ith relation to 
 regions on the east and west, follows an exact designation of the southern boundary: Gallis in 
 meridiem etiam inspicitur. The emphasis upon the proximity of Gaul may have been evoked 
 by the inexact statement of Pliny, IV, 16, 30: e,t' adrerso huius situs (the Low Countries) 
 Britannia insula inter seiJtentrionalem et occidentem iacet, Germaniae, Galliae, Hispaniae 
 .... magna intervallo adversa. 
 
 10, 18: sed mare ingrum et grave remigantibus perhibent, etc. The phenomenon does not 
 admit of a satisfactory explanation, if we think of Tacitus as describing something actually 
 observed by the expedition of exploration sent out by Agricola. There surely could have been 
 no difficulty in recognizing fields of floating sea-weed or ice or even adverse currents. The 
 encountering of a belt of calm iu the vicinity of the Shetland Islands (to which Furneaux refers) 
 may have seemed to lend confirmation to a widely diffused conception of the imknown outer 
 ocean as a windless sea of almost inunoval)Ie character. Walch cites a num})er of passages 
 which allude to this in widely different periotls of antiquity. In the discussions of this question 
 I have not observed that the parallels afforded by Seneca Rhet., Suas. 1, have been cited: 
 Deliberat Alexander an Oceanum naviget. His friends dissuade him from essaying so perilous 
 
 66
 
 GrEORGE LINCOLN HeNDRICKSON 31 
 
 a task: stat immotum mare, quasi drficirutifi in suo fine naturae pigra moles ipsiim 
 
 vero grave et defi.rum mare. 2ex(r.: immobile prof nndum. 10: hie dijficuUatem naviga- 
 tionis, ignoti maris naturam non patientem navigationis. 15 (Pedo .... in navigante 
 Germanieo dicit): ad rerum metas cxtreniaque litora m.nndi\\ nunc ilium, pngris immania 
 monstra sub undis^ qui ferat, Oceanum, ate. Agaiu, a little farther ou: atque alium fiabris 
 intactum quaerimus orbemf But Tacitus, in Ann., 11,24, says: quanta violentior cetera mart 
 Oceanus, etc. 
 
 18, 23: qui classem, qui naves, qui mare expectabanf. In explanation and defense of 
 mare, Miss Katharine Allen, of the University of Wisconsin, has calletl my attention to Hist., 
 II, 12 init.: possessa per mare et naves maiore Italiae parte. An example, somewhat analo- 
 gous to this, of a loose use of mare is afforded by Tibidlus, I, 3, 50: nunc mare, nunc leti 
 mille repente viae, where it stands " praeguanti sensu .... pro nunc maris et navigationis 
 pericula." In oiu- passage mare gathers up in forcible climax the content of the preceding 
 expressions classem naves. It is in no sense a descending series. 
 
 41, 18: sic Agricola simul suis virtutibus, simul vitiis aliorum in ipsam gloriam 
 praeceps agebatur. This well-known passage seems to have been very generally misintei-preted. 
 Commentators have read into it more than it really contains, and have found it an extreme 
 example of Taciteau compression {cf. Ernesti's characterization of it as " acuminis captatio," 
 Walch, Wex, Furneaux, and the conjectures of Madvig and Baehrens). But the passage con- 
 tains no suggestion that "Agricola's glory was his doom." It is merely the conclusion of a 
 cruyKpttrts, which sets forth, by contrast to the weakness and inefficiency of Domitian and his 
 generals, the swift growth of Agricola's fame. The comparison begins with 41, 5: et ea 
 insecuta tempera quae sileri Agricolam non sinerent. There follow then the disasters (the 
 negative side of the o-v'yKpiais — the ritia, aliarum) which provoked popular clamor for Agricola, 
 comparantibus cunctis vigorem et consiaiitiam et expertum bellis animum cum inertia et 
 formidine ceterorum. The comparison concludes with the words in question: " Agricola, not 
 only by his own virtues, but by contrast with the weakness and inefficiency of others, was 
 hiuried to the very pinnacle of fame." The correctness of this interpretation may be tested by 
 comparison with the similar conchision of a o-vyKpio-i? of Pomp)ey with other generals, in Cicero, 
 De imp. Pomp., 67: quasi Cn. Ponipeium non cum suis virtutibus turn etiam alienis vitiis 
 magnum esse videamus. 
 
 43, 16: satis constat lecta testamenio Agricalae, quo coheredem ojttimae uxori et 
 piissimae filiae Domifianum scrij)sit, laetatum eum velut hoiiore iudicioque. The quasi- 
 technical character of this last phrase seems to have been overlooked. Furneaux (with Andresen) 
 thinks that the words honore iudicioque distinguish the act and the thought, and renders "the 
 mark of respect and the esteem implied in it;" and so essentially Gudemau. But indicium is a 
 terminus technicus in the legal language of wills and inheritances for the judgment which 
 animates a bequest, and so for the bequest itself. This transition of meaning is well shown by 
 Seneca, Z>e i?e»ie/., IV, 11, 4: gw/d .... cum testamentum ordinamus nan beneficia nihil nobis 
 profutura dividimiisi .... atqui numquam magis iudicia nostra magis torquemus quam 
 ubi rematis utilitatibus solum ante oculos honcstum stetit. For suprema iudicia, or iudicia 
 alone, in the sense of testamentum see the passages in Forcelhni, s. v.. Ill, 1,3, of which Suet., 
 Aug., 66, affords a good illustration: quamvis minime appeteret hereditates, ut qui numquam 
 ex ignati testamento capere quicquam susiinuerit, amicorum tamen suprema iudicia moro- 
 sissime pensitavit, neque dolore dissimulato si j^arcius aut citra honorem verborum, etc. 
 (These last words cast some light upon honore iu our passage. The honorem iudicii alone, 
 citra honorem verborum, he did not desire.) Finally a parallel which sets the meaning of our 
 passage in the clearest light, and shows that it is to be interpreted as heudiadys for honore 
 
 57
 
 32 The Proconsulate of Julius Agricola 
 
 iudicii, is afforded by the Laudafio Murdiae (C I.L., VI, 10230), vs. 6: viro cerhtm pecuniam 
 legavit iit ins dofis honore iudicii aiigeretur. (Cf. Vollmer ad. loc, Jahrb., Suppl. Vol. XVIII, 
 p. 487.) Cf. also Du Cange, s. v. indicium. [I note that Ruperti, ad loc, makes allusion to the 
 use of the word here noted, but without closer application to the interpretation of the passage.] 
 44 in it. : A transposition of sentences from the order preserved in the MSS. is a noleut 
 remedy and one justly regarded with extreme scepticism. But since we have ample evidence 
 that errors in the sequence of ancient tests do occur, it is legitimate for the critic to point out 
 apparent errors of this sort and to make such suggestions of restoration as are possible. This 
 chapter begins with a brief statement of some external facts concerning Agricola : (1) his age, 
 
 (2) his appearance. Then follows a considerable reflection that Agricola, though cut off in the 
 prime of life, had attained all that long life could have granted: et ipse quidem, quamquam 
 medio in spatio integrae aetatis ereptus, quantum ad gloriam longissimum aevum j)eregit. 
 The position of these words is sui'prising, for such a reflection would more naturally have followed 
 the statement of his age; nor can I think that et ipse forms an appropriate transition from the 
 preceding. There follows an epexegetical sentence: quippe et vera bona, quae in virfutibus sita 
 sunt, impleverat, et consulari ac triumphuJibus ornamentis praedito quid aliud adstruere 
 fortuna poterat i The real goods of virtue and fame are here obviously contrasted with external 
 goods of fortune, although as yet the latter have not been named. These then follow, as the 
 third item of external character, in a manner which, as Furneaux remarks, appears irrelevant: 
 
 (3) opibus nimiis non. gaudebat,speciosae nan contigerant. As a matter of arrangement it 
 would have seemed more natural to have placed the third statement of external facts imme- 
 diately after the second, before proceeding to the reflections which follow (2), especially since 
 these reflections are rather in sequence with (1) than with (2). But further, and more decisively, 
 we should look for (3) to precede quippe et vera bona, so that these words may look back in 
 proper antithesis to opibus. 
 
 An arrangement of the passage which would seem to meet all the difficulties which I have 
 named, and which others (especially Furneaux and Gudeman) have raised, would be as follows: 
 
 il) uatvs erat Agricola, etc {2) quod si habitum quoque eius jwsteri noscere velint, etc., 
 
 .... libeuter. (3) oj)ibus nimiis non gaudebaf. spieciosae non contigerant. [From this state- 
 ment of his small material wealth Tacitus passes to the suggestion of his real good fortune.] Filia 
 atque uxore superstitibus potest videri etiam heatus incolumi dignitate, florente fama, salvis 
 adfinitatibus et aniicitiis, fufura effugis.se. [In contrast to this statement of his good fortune 
 in the integrity of his fame and tlie safety of his family and friends, Tacitus turns to the fact of 
 Agricola^s own death and shows that it was not untimely.] Et ipse quidem, qttamquam medio 
 in spatio integrae aetatis ereptus, quantum ad gloriam, longissimum aevum peregit. quippe 
 et vera bona [in contrast to the opibus above], quae in virtutibus sita sunt, impleverat, et consu- 
 lari ac triumphalibus ornamentis praedito quid aliud ad.struere fortuna poterat f namsicut ei 
 <^non licuity durare in liauc beatissimi saeculi lucem ac principem Traianuui videre .... 
 ita festinatae mortis grande solaciuni tulit evasis,se jwstremitm illud tempus, etc. [This sen- 
 tence, introduced appropriately by nam, anticipates the suggestion that fortune might have 
 granted him to see the reign of Trajan, and answers it by showing that it could only have been 
 at the cost of witnessing the last days of Domitian. The balanced clauses nam sicut .... 
 ita would perhaps best be rendered by " for though .... still."] I have explained this, though 
 it is obvious enough, to meet an objection which will naturally be raised to the transposition 
 proposed. It will be said that this last sentence is the natural complement of futura effugi.s.se, 
 and it cannot be denied that the sequence of these two parts as they stand is perfectly satisfactory. 
 I would only urg(^ that the sequeuc(? with (juid aliud adstruere fortuna jwterat is equally 
 natural, as I have endeavored to point out.
 
 Geouc;e Lincoln Hendrickson 33 
 
 44, 14: navi sicut ei ^non liciiity duraro. in hnne hrafinxiini sat'c/idi liic.em ac principem 
 Traianum viderc, quad aiigiirio rutin(jiit' ajiiul jio.ilras aiiri.s oiniiialxifur, fte. Lipsins com- 
 ments: " mirum si tot aunos praesaf^iit. Nee de Traiano ulla sp<!s aut suspicio, nisi si deus men- 
 tem illi movit, aut nostra scriptori l)landitia; quod non solet." Cf. also HofTniann, loc. cit. {supra, 
 p. 6), p. 273. Similar auguries concerning Trajan are reported by Pliny, Fan., 5 and 94, and by 
 Dio Cassias, 67, 12, 1. They are all uudonhicdly ex eventu, including our jiassage of the Aijrirola. 
 It was a conventional feature of encomiastic literature-" to assign to an early pericxl in the life of 
 the subject of encomium prophecies or signs of future greatness, even if they must be invented. 
 In this case the augury is at once a source of praise to Agricola and of flattery to the emperor. 
 The attitude of the theorists on this point is given by Menauder. In s))eaking of portents and 
 signs foretelling at the time of birth the future greatness of the subject of eiicoiiiiuni, he says 
 (Sp. Ill, p. 371, 10): Kav fxiv )y Tt TOLOVTOV Trepl Tov f^acrikea, iiipyairaf iav oe o'ov T£ y TrAcicrut kiu 
 iroLctv TovTO widavioi, fx-r] KaroKvei. And they did not hesitate, as Pliny abundantly shows. With- 
 out the cheerful injunction to persuasive invention of the necessary augiu'ies, Quintilian presents 
 the same theory in III, 7, 11 : illn quoque interim i\v co quod ante ipmini fuit tempore trahontur, 
 quae responsis vel auguriis futuram claritatem pn-omiserint. 
 
 45 init. : non vidit Agricolani obsessain curiam, etc. This is commonly designated by the 
 editors as an imitation of Cicero, De Oratore, III, 2, 8 (referring to the death of Crassus), and per- 
 haps no closer parallel can be cited. However, Morowski {De Rhetoribus Lat., Cracovia, 1892, 
 p. 15) has pointed out that the rhetorical figure here used is a conventional one in the declamatory 
 literature of the first century A. D. in describing the deaths of great men. For the whole con- 
 clusion of the Agricola, from 44 to the end, one should compare Seneca Rhet., Snas., 6, 5 and 6. 
 
 The observation suggests a concluding word: We shall not understand the style of Tacitus, 
 nor shall we be in a position properly to judge of the content of his words, until we come to see 
 and to feel the affinity of his nature for much which, in our modern aversion to literary artifice, 
 we designate contemptuously as rhetorical. There is a great gulf between Tacitus and the 
 declaimers, but it is not a total difference of kind, as, for example, the difference between Seneca 
 and Epictetus or Fronto and Marcus Aurelius. Up to a certain point, in the technique of lan- 
 guage and rhetorical effect, Tacitus is one of them. But })eyond that, it is character and range 
 of vision, rather than fundamentally divergent ideals, which differentiate him from them. 
 
 29 C/. NoRDEN ("Ein Panegyricus auf Augustus") on ViEG., Aen., VI, 799, Rh, Mus., Vol. LIV, p. 468. 
 
 59
 
 A STICHOMETRIC SCHOLIUM TO THE MEDEA OF 
 
 EURIPIDES
 
 A STICHOMETRTC SCHOLIUM 10 THE MEDEA OF EURI- 
 PIDES, WITH REMARKS ON THE TEXT OE DIDYMUS 
 
 Tenny Frank 
 
 The line a-ij^ Sd/xov<; elaj3aa iV eaTpcorai Xe';^o?, which occurs twice in our manu- 
 scripts of tho Mcdcd of Euripides (vss. 41 and 380j and is cited in a third place (vs. 
 356) by a scholiast, has been much discussed both because of its own inherent diffi- 
 culties and because of the interesting but perplexing scholia attached to it. I propose 
 in this paper to suggest a solution of the difficulties connected with the scholia, and to 
 point out some new conclusions to which it may lead with reference to certain readings 
 in the manuscripts of the time of Didymus, the author of the criticism contained in 
 the scholia. 
 
 The passage in question occurs first in all our manuscripts as vs. 41 of the Medea. 
 The nurse is speaking : 
 
 eywBa t?;i'&, Seifiaiuco re viv, 
 40 /J-T) Otjktov war) (pdajavov 8t' r/Traro?, 
 
 fLj^ Sofiov; €la-^dcr\ iv earpcorai Xei^o?, 
 r'l Kal rvpavvov rov re '^tjfiavTa ktcivt] 
 Ka-rreira /xei^io avfJ.(f>opav \d/3r] Tivd. 
 Beivi] yap. 
 
 Here the line is bracketed by all modern editors' as having been inappropriately 
 inserted from vs. 380. 
 
 After vs. 356 Didymus is said by the scholiast to have found the same line, although 
 it is not found in any of our manuscripts in that place and no editor has proposed to 
 restore it. Here the text reads (the king of Corinth is the speaker) : 
 
 irpovvveTTO) Be aoi, 
 el' a rj ^inova-a Xa/i7ra? 6-<^eTai deov 
 Kal iralBwi ii'TO'i rijaSe repfiovcov ^Oovo';, 
 6avel- XeXeKTat fivOo'i ayp-evBij'i oSe. 
 355 vvv S\ €1 fieveiv Sel, pLifiv icj}^ rj/xepav fiiav 
 ou yap TL Spda£L<; 8eivov wv (f>6/3o<; /i' e'l^ei. 
 
 To the last line of this passage the following scholium is attached : ov ydp n Bpd<TeK'\ 
 
 iElmsley rejects vs. 41. " Nostro loco minus conveni- p. 59} aloue would read the line here rather than at 380. 
 
 unt ut recte Musgravius. Metuit nutrix ne Hberos inter- Kirchhoff brackets vss. 40 and 41: " Hue retractos e vv. 
 
 ficiat Medea. Qua sententia nequo atyij So^ous iitr^aaa 381, 2"(= Nauck, 379, ."JSO). Nauck rightly rejects vss. 40-43 
 
 dixisset neque i*"' eaTpwrai Aej^os .... Non opus est ut bis {Euripideische Studicn, I, p. 108). We shall examine his 
 
 legantur haec verba quae melius infra v. 374 (= Nauck, reasons later, together with those of DiNDOKF and Peinz- 
 
 3X0) quam hie mihi videntur." So also Beunck and Poeson. Wecklein, who reject vss. 38-43. 
 Valckenaeh (o(i f/ioeii., 1286) and Pieeson (Verisimilia, 
 
 63
 
 4 A Stichometric Scholium to the Medea of Euripides 
 
 AiSvfio<; /jbeTO, rovrov <f)€per To'^^aiyr, B6fj,ov<; ela^acr' 'iv ecnpcoTai Xe;)^o?"' Kal /ue/it^eTat TOt? 
 vTroKpiTah 0)9 aKaipm'i avrov jaaaovaiv. 
 
 Finally the line occurs in what is now generally conceded to be its proper place, 
 after vs. 379. Medea speaks : 
 
 ovK olh' vKoia Trpwrov eyxeipoj, (f)iXai, 
 TTorepov v(f)d-^a> hS)fxa vvp.<f>iKov irvpt, 
 ^ SrjKTOu a>au> ^dcT'yavov hi iJTraro'i, 
 380 ffi-y^ Sofiovt elalid(T 'iv ecrrpayTai Xe;)^o?. 
 
 Valckenaer and Pierson have not been followed by subsequent critics in consid- 
 ering the line in place at 41 rather than here. It is the scholium upon the line in this 
 place which has given difficulty: 
 
 S)Se KoXco? Keirai. Ai'^u/xo? crrjp.eiovTai oTi KaK<t)<; ol xmoKpiToi Tdaaovaiv. — iirl to)v 
 hvo TO ."<rt7p Sofiov; ela/Sdaa'^^ Kavaio rj (Tcf>d^(o avrov<i (Schwartz). E (=Parisianus 
 2712) reads eVl twv ^. A Venetian edition of the sixteenth century, whose scholia 
 are often based on those of E, reads e-rrl tmv Svolv (Dindorf, VII, p. 32, 5, note). 
 Kirchhoff emends to eTrt rolv Bvolv. Elmsley (acZ vs. 373) says: "Nescio quid sig- 
 nificat cTTt tmv /3'." Dindorf [Euripides, VII, ad loc.) punctuates as follows: coBe 
 /caXw? KeiTUi. At'Su/io? cyrjueiOVTai on KUKoi'i ol vwoKpiTal rdaaovaiv ewX tmv Bvo to " 0-17^ 
 Bofiovi el(T^dcra" Kavaw fj (T<f)d^(o avTOv<;. With this phrasing eVl tmv Bvo is made to 
 refer to the two alternatives Kavaoo 7) a-(f)d^a>. This interpretation is impossible. 0-17^ 
 BofMov; ela-^daa refers of course only to the one line immediately preceding it, and 
 there never has been any valid objection to its appropriateness in connection with that 
 line. J. van Leeuwen {Commenfatio de Antigoiia Sophocleci) punctuates: AiBufio<; 
 .... Tdaaovcriv. — iirl twv Bvo to aiyy Bo/jlov; ela^daa, Kavcrai t} a-(j)d^u) avT0v<i. This 
 makes the sentence AiBvfj.o<; .... Tdacrovcnv contradict the words which directly pre- 
 cede {wBe KaXoJ? /cetrai) without an adversative particle, at the same time leaving eVl 
 TUiv Bvo quite without connection. Furthermore, both of these readings necessitate the 
 assumption that the line in question was, in the opinion of Didymus, in place else- 
 where, but an interpolation here — an assumption which can hardly be entertained. 
 Nor does it explain the scholium at vs. 356. 
 
 Verrall [Medea, ad vs. 379) offers an emendation based on the fact that the line 
 in question is also found at vs. 41. He says, after quoting the scholium: '' eVt twv 
 Bvo is a corruption of the reference to the interpolation ; if the text of the prologue 
 agrees with that of Didymus, which there is no reason to doubt, it should be eVi tw p.', 
 
 2Mb. Verrall (.A/Cfiea, a(i35G) (ibjects to Nauck's inter- of tlio word, as eqnivaloiit to "givo as a reading," "cite,'* 
 
 pretation of tiio word (^tp«t (r/. NAUf'K, Euripiiicinrhc Stu- wiiich is of course what Nauck moans. Compare, iu the 
 
 d/en, I, p. 118): "Uebrisens kauutii Didymus, wio wir aus hypothesis to the TiJ/it^ftw (.Schwartz, .S'c/io/m i/i fTur/p/f/cn, 
 
 den Sciiolieu wissen, uach ^^i^ nocii oincn Vers." "The 11,3-4,10): npoAovoi 6e Sittoi t^cpocrai; i/n(/,,1.12: eV tt-tois 
 
 scholium merely says," contends Mr. Verrall, "«^ep«i . . . ., 5e Taic dcTcypotftwi' tTt po? tic <^ e p « t a i wpoAoyo? ; also scholium 
 
 that is, Didymus hrinffs or tnm&fcra the line to this place, ad Hec, 13 (Schwartz, I, p. 13) : eV ^(Vtoi toi? avTiypd<ttoi^ 
 
 not says that ho /ourtd it there." Hut I submit that readers "V" ^tpcrot xal KotvT] ayayvuttm Jiy. 
 of scholia will Hud themselves quite familiar with this uso 
 
 64
 
 Tenny Frank 
 
 'at line 40.' For the position of the note and the nature of the case show that the 
 observation of Didymus I'eferred to both 37'J-80, which correspond to 40 and 41. 
 The cause of the corruption is the resemblance in cursive writing of /x' (^TeaaapaKovTa) 
 and /x', one form of /3' (Suo)." 
 
 This, however, involves Mr. Verrall in a misinterpretation of the important scho- 
 lium on vs. 356, of which he says (ad vs. 356): "I submit that this scholium must 
 have slipped to the vfTong line and belongs in reality at 380." Now, a right under- 
 standing of both scholia, which I think can be attained, will convince one that both 
 are now in their proper place and that they are to be interpreted with reference to 
 each other. We shall also find good reason to conclude that vs. 41 was not in Didymus's 
 manuscript ; and, if it was not there, of course he did not refer to it. 
 
 Von Arnim [Medea, ad 379), if I understand his meaning, interprets eVi tmv Bvo 
 as equivalent to "in two places," i. e., at vs. 40 and at vs. 356 — which is not the Greek 
 way of expressing that idea. 
 
 Finally Evald Bruhn [Lucubrationes Euripideae, p. 249, note) confesses that he 
 does not understand this phrase: "Numero autem binario id significari in codicibus 
 et post 379 et post 40 legi versum de quo agimus fortasse recte suspicor ; eum tamen 
 sensum elicere e verbis eVt twi/ hvo uon possum." The first part he understands still 
 less: "Scribendum fortasse est: AiBvfj.o<; <(pey a-r]fieiovTai. Didymus enim qui post 
 356 legi ilium versum iubeat, apei'te dissideat ab eo qui scribit coSe KaXw Kurai.'''' But 
 we shall see that the two phrases do not contradict each other and that a he would be 
 out of place. Besides, we can hardly credit a critic like Didymus with the notion that 
 these verses would be in place at 356. 
 
 We have seen how the interpretations hitherto offered have failed to explain the 
 difficult questions which have been asked, namely: (1) What is the meaning of the 
 scholium on 379 ? (2) How is this scholium connected with that on 356 ? (3) Why 
 is Didymus silent about the occurrence of the line at 41, while he comments on it upon 
 its later appearance ? These questions I think will be answered if the following 
 interpretation of the troublesome phrase eVt tS>v 8uo meets with approval. 
 
 Some redactor of the scholia who had access to the notes of Didymus found that 
 that famous critic cited the line 0-47^ hofiow ela^aaa after vs. 356, with a note accusing 
 the actors of having inappropriately introduced it there (see the scholium on 356 
 already quoted). It was to be expected then that, in commenting on the line in its 
 proper place, vs. 380, he should express his opinion as to its fitness in the latter 
 place — which he does by saying wSe «:aX.w? Kelrai — and, further, should refer to the 
 note and citation of Didymus in the preceding place. This reference it is which has 
 been corrupted into the meaningless words eVi toiv Bvo, and the reference read origi- 
 nally eVt TM Tv^', "at line 352" (/. e., 356, Schwartz). The first step in the corruption 
 was probably the loss of the second t, thus : tq)tvI3 became rmi/yS, whence toiv 0. If 
 this emendation is correct, the scholium should read thus : wSe kuXok Kelrai. Ai'^u/xo? 
 arjfieiovTai oTi KaKW ol inroKpiTal rdacovaiv eirl tS) tv0 to " crfyrj 86fiov<; ela^aaa,'''' and 
 
 65
 
 6 A Stichometrio Scholium to the Medea of Euripides 
 
 one might paraphrase it thus: "Here the line is in the proper place (not at 357). 
 Didymus marks the line for the reason that the actors are wrong in bringing it into 
 the text at 352." At 352 (356, Schwartz) he had already said: "After this line 
 Didymus cites the line criyrj B6ij.ou<;, k.t.X., and blames the actors for bringing it into 
 the text here, where it is out of place." 
 
 The last clause of the scholium, Kavaui r) a-cfxi^o) avroik, seems to be a late attempt 
 at an explanation of iirl tSiv Svo after the corruption had taken place, and as such it is 
 to be rejected. Bruhu's theory that it is a paraphrase of vss. 378, 379 is less inviting. 
 He says : "Quibus verbis vix opus est moneam novum contineri scholium 378-79 
 complecteus." {Luc. Eur., p. 249, note.) 
 
 This emendation gives a natural interpretation to the whole scholium upon vs. 380 
 as well as to the one upon vs. 356, which was thought by Elmsley as well as Verrall to 
 be out of 2)lace. Moreover, Didymus is the ultimate source of both scholia, and the 
 qiaestion involved in both — that of an actor's interpolation — is the same. This 
 naturally leads one to connect the reference in eVi tmv Bvo with the corresponding 
 scholium upon vs. 356, rather than with vs. 41, of which Didymus seems not even to 
 have spoken. Finally, the corruption of eVt tw tv/S' to iirl tojv /3' is certainly an easier 
 one than that which Mr. Verrall assumes. 
 
 Though I do not know of similar references by verse in the scholia of the drama- 
 tists, there is sufficient actual manuscript evidence to make us certain that the method 
 of citation by verse must have been a common one. Asconius^ has at least twenty- 
 five references by verse numbers to lines of Cicero ; cf. in Cic. Pis., p. 3, Orelli : circa 
 versiim LXXX; p. 6 : circa vcrsum a j^rimo CCLXX, etc. In a similar way the 
 scholiast of Oribasius' refers by arixoL to the passages in the works of Galen which 
 were the source of the later author s statements. See on Oribasius, IV, p. 532, 24 
 (ed. Daremberg), the scholiast's reference to Galen : a7ro tov 5-' rf;? depa-rrevTLKrj'i &)? 
 irpo a' cTTixoiv rov reXov;. See also the scholia on Oribasius, III, pp. 686, 22 ; (i89, 12 ; 
 IV, pp. 533, 4 ; 538, 1 ; 534, 6. The last citation reads : otto tov a ^i/3\iov t?)? crvvo- 
 ■v/re(U9 TO)v ^eipovpyovfievaiv fiera to TpiTOv tov /SifiXiov, o)? /lera t' aTL-^ovi t/}? ap)^ri<; tov 
 o/xoiov K€cf)aXaiov. Some examples of the same method of reference are found in 
 Diogenes Laertius;' so, for example, in VII, 188: ra 8" avTci (j)7jcn ( Xpi^criTTTro? ) Kal 
 ev TU) Trepl TOiv firj Bi' mvra ciipeT&v . . . . , ev oe tu> TpiTcp irepl hiicalov KaTo. toi)? y^LXlovi 
 aTixpv; (= "circa versum millesimum," Wachsmuth) Kal tov<; a-rroOavovTa^ ecrdieiv 
 KeXevwv. Similar references occur at VII, 33, and VII, 187. As the above-mentioned 
 references are to prose works, they are usually not exact, being modified by some word 
 like circa, m, kuto.. The impli(;ation is, of course, that the works referred to were 
 numbered in the ordinary'' way by the hundred-line measure with the sixteen-syllable 
 
 3 C/. the discussion by RiTsniL, liiiuscula. I, pp. 7X IT. >• Cf. Fuhr, Khcinischc.-! Museum, XXXVII (18.S2), p. 468 ; 
 
 * Cf. DiELB, HcrmcK, XVII (18S2), pp. m tt. Sciianz, Hermes, XVI (1881), p. :««; Ciiuist, Die AUirus- 
 
 J" Cy. WAnisMUTH, Rhcinisehes Museum, XXXIV (18791, 
 p. .39; Sciianz, Hermes, XVI (1!-81), p. .310; Bomde, Khemi- 
 tches Huxcum, XXXXV (1879), p. 562, noto. 
 
 aungabc des Demosthenes ; Graux, Revue <ie phUoloijie, II 
 (1878), pp.97 ff. 
 
 66
 
 Tennv Fhank 
 
 hexameter as a basis for the prose line. TIk; liue of the epic iuul drama was, generally 
 speaking, a fixed thing, for even the lyrical parts were early arranged by cola,' and an 
 exact reference to line could therefore be given. 
 
 I know of no other instance in the scholia to the dramatists of a numerical refer- 
 ence to the line of a play, nor of such a method of reference in the scholia to the other 
 poets. But it certainly would be surprising if the grammarians who made it their 
 business to comment u[)on the dramatists never hit upon this convenient device of 
 reference by line, which was used quite fi-eely in prose works. The same device, as 
 Mr. Capps" has pointed out, was probably used even by the engraver of the Soteric 
 inscription of Delphi of the year 272 B. C. The engraver, it seems, had omitted two 
 names from the list of performers (each name forming a line) and added them at the 
 end, each preceded by a numeral (El and Fl) referring to the line of the stone after 
 which the name had been omitted. This is the earliest instance known, so far as I 
 can learn, of the employment of the line-number as a means of reference. 
 
 In accounting for a discrepancy of a few lines, such as one is hereby led to assume 
 between the text of the critic who used Didymus's notes, who calls it vs. 352, and 
 e. g. Schwartz, who makes it vs. 357, one could hardly contend with confidence that 
 the diiference represents the number of lines which have been interpolated since the 
 scholium was written ; for such an assumption would have to rest upon a much more 
 precise knowledge of the colometry of the parodos than we at present possess. Our 
 emendation does, however, throw some new light on the state of the manuscript of 
 Euripides which Didymus used. In the first place, it proves that the scholium to 
 vs. 356, which has often been assumed to be out of place, is in its proper position, and 
 that some manuscripts of Didymus read the line cnyy So/xov; ela^daa, etc., after that 
 line. Secondly, by establishing the position and trustworthiness of that scholium, it 
 proves that vss. 355, 35(), which are thought ])y Nauck and Prinz-AVecklein to be an 
 interpolation, were found in the manuscript of Didymus ; for the scholium reads, as 
 we have seen : ou yap n hpdiwi^ AiSufMo^ fiera tovtoi/ cfyepei to '■'■ aiyrj Sofjiov^ «:.t.\. ;" 
 and, as one could not possibly find any meaning for this line in this place if not con- 
 nected with vss. 355, 35(), it follows that the latter lines were in the text when Didymus 
 wrote his note. One may even add, as a further suggestion, that their jJresence in so old 
 a text argues to some extent for their authenticity. Nauck {Euripideische Studien, 
 Medea, p. 118) questions them because they seem to weaken the forceful words which 
 precede, and the Prinz-Wecklein edition follows him in rejecting them ; but there is 
 no real contradiction in thought, nor do I see any other adequate reason for rejection. 
 Finally, we are led to the conclusion that vs. 41 was probably not in the text of 
 Didymus; for it is reasonable to assume that, if it had been there, the critic would 
 have pronounced judgment u[)on the appropriateness of the line there, as he evidently 
 
 ' Cf. VON Wilamowitz-MOllendoeff, Herakles, Ii, pp. XXXI (1900), pp. 128 ff. The inscriptioQ in question is No. 
 140 ff. 2564 in Vol. II, 6, of t'OLLiTz's Sammlung der griechischen 
 
 ' Transactions 0/ the American Philological. Isscciatiun. D ialekt-lMchrif ten, ed.Baunack. 
 
 67
 
 8 A Stichometkio Scholium to the Medea of Euripides 
 
 did at 356 and at 380. So, for instance, a scholium on vs. 148 saj's : tovto Be 'AttoX- 
 XoScopo'; T^? Mj;Sei'a? (f>i]a-iv .... Tois S' vTro/cpiTat crvyKeeiv, and at the end of the 
 alleged confusion (vs. 1G9) the charge is repeated: 'ATroXXo'Scopo? /xev ow (jjrjcriv 6 
 Tapaeix; Trjv a/j,<j)i^o\ia^ uItiov; eivai tou? inroKpcTa'i crvyKeovra'i ra ^opiKo, rot? vtto t*}? 
 Mj^Set'a? Xeyofj.e'i'oi'i. 
 
 Now it is generally agreed that vs. 40 must be dealt with in the same way as vs. 
 41, since the two are mere repetitions of vss. 379, 380, which are evidently in their proper 
 place there. It has already been remarked that Nauck rejects the two following lines 
 also; and with good reason. It is quite evident that vss. 42, 43 depend on vs. 40. It 
 follows that they were written after the insertion of vss. 40, 41. The whole passage 
 in question very inappropriately gives anticipation of the plot, which had not yet 
 assumed definite shape. The fears of the nurse concerned the children only [cf. vss. 
 36, 98, 105). If the four lines are rejected, the text reads iyaiBa TT^vBe, Beifiaivoy tc'vlv 
 BeivTj yap. It is quite evident that Beiv^ is an echo of Beifiaivco, and that they are not 
 to be separated. Euripides frequently uses this very effective balance ; rf. Orest., 
 102-3, BeBoiKa .... Beivou yap ; Phocn., 269-70, (f>o^ovfj.edai .... yap Beivd ; Orest., 
 1519-20, Becvov .... BeBoiKa<;. Now, as we have found good reason for the belief 
 that Didymus (whose text was probably better than ours) did not have vs. 41, and as 
 the four lines 40-43 are of a kind, and from the same source, we have an additional 
 argument for their rejection. We may safely date them as post-Didymean. 
 
 I cannot agree, however, with Diudorf [Eurijiides, VII, p. 266 ; he is followed 
 by Prinz-Wecklein), who finds here an interpolation of six lines. He says : "Glossator 
 non animadvertit interpolatoris fraudem, qui post versum 37 versus intulit sex {^apela 
 . . . \d/3T} Tivd) quorum quattuor ipse scripsit, duos ex. vss. 379-80 hue rettulit."' 
 
 68
 
 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED 
 
 TO QUINTUS CICERO
 
 THE COMMENTARIOLUM PETITIONIS ATTRIBUTED TO 
 
 QUINTUS CICERO 
 
 Geoboe Lincoln Hendricks on 
 AUTHENTICITY 
 
 It is now just ten years (I write in September, 1902) since I published in the 
 American Joiinud of FhiJology (Vol. XIII, pp. 200-212) a brief paper in which, as I 
 thought, I was able to adduce conclusive evidence of the spuriousness of the Coinmen- 
 tarioliim. Its authenticity had already been called into question on quite inadequate 
 evidence by A. Eussner in a Wiirzburg Program of 1872, while Mommsen in the third 
 volume of his SfaafsrccJit of the year 1887 (p. 484 and note) had alluded to the work 
 as spurious, but without discussion of reasons for his belief apart from a single example 
 of erroneous statement relating to the ordo equesfcr. Eussner's disciission was 
 answered at considerable length by Professor Tyrrell, iirst in Hcrmathena and later in 
 Vol. I of his edition of the letters. But while the many trivial arguments of Eussner 
 fell an easy prey to the almost indignant pen of Professor Tyrrell, yet it is, I fancy, an 
 impartial verdict, that he succeeded in refuting Eussner rather than in defending 
 Quintiis.' 
 
 The question is naturally not a burning one, but (apart from private expressions 
 of opinion which came to me) in the course of time I noted that my argument had won 
 a few adherents, of whom I may name Professor Gudeman in his treatment of "Liter- 
 ary Frauds Among the Romans" (Transactions of the Am. Phil. Ass''n, Vol. XXV, p. 
 154, note 2), and Dr. L. Gurlitt, the eminent connoisseur of Cicero's letters, in the 
 Jahreshcricht for 1898 (Vol. XXVI, p. 3). But I did not convince Professor Leo, 
 who in the course of a discussion of the date of publication of the letters to Atticus,' 
 defended the genuineness of the Commentariolum, nor Schanz, who in the second edi- 
 tion of the Romische Liferoturgeschichte still holds to the position originally taken by 
 him toward the question. Most recently Dr. J. Ziehen — and his words have impelled 
 me to revert to the subject once more — has used this discussion to illustrate the general 
 reaction toward a more conservative point of view in the higher criticism of Roman 
 literature,^ assuming that the authenticity of the work in question is now generally 
 acknowledged. That such is the case I shall not dispute, but I am stirred to protest 
 when this conservative reaction is illustrated by a series of examples which places the 
 challenging of the genuineness of the Commentariolum on a par with the frivolous 
 
 icy. Leo, "Die Publication von Cicero's Briefen an 2"EchtheitsfragenderrOinischen Literaturgeschichte,'* 
 
 Atticus," Nachrickten d. k. GeselUckaft d. U'issenschaften Berichte d. freieti deiUscken Hochstiftes zu Frankfurt 
 
 zu GOttinrten, phil.-hist. Klasse, ISSo, pp. 447 11. "TyrreU a. M.. 1901, p. 84. I am indebted to Dr. Ziehen himself for 
 
 hat seine Vertheidiguns gofUhrt ohne, wie mir scheint, den a copy of his valuable paper, with the general tendency 
 
 Kern der Sache zu treffen." and results of which I am in full accord. 
 
 71
 
 4 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 doubts of the early nineteenth century concerning the orations against Catiline, the 
 orations j^ost redltum and the pro MurccUo. The considerations advanced by Wolf, 
 and especially by his German and Dutch emulators, against any of these orations were 
 never more than of a most general character — suspicions of the presence of bombast, 
 declamatory rhetoric, and the magisfcr vmhraticus. Of definite relations to other 
 works of literature, which would reveal the pillager, examples were not shown. 
 
 Now in regard to the Commentariolum I would carefully eliminate so far as pos- 
 sible all considerations of a vague or general character, and so throw over voluntarily 
 much, or rather most, that Eussner advanced. I would let the question rest upon a 
 comparison of resemblances with literature of a time subsequent to the date at which 
 the treatise purports to have been written, that is, subsequent to the middle of 
 the year 64, the earliest date which can be assigned to it, if genuine. Confirma- 
 tion of this result I shall then endeavor to point out from a study of the rhetorical 
 form and style of the treatise. Although all scholars who have discussed this question 
 concede the relationship of certain passages of the CommenUiriolum to the oration in 
 Toga Candida (delivered just before the consular election of 64), and assume that Marcus 
 Cicero borrowed from the recent campaign document of Quintus, yet I will reproduce 
 them here for the sake of affording a complete list of the most essential parallels. 
 
 Of Antonius we read. Com. 8: vocem audivimus iiirantis sc Romae iudicio aequo 
 cum homine Graeco ccriare non posse. And in a fragment of the oration in Tog. Cand., 
 preserved by Asconius (edition of Kiessling and Scholl), p. 74, 26: qui in sua civitate 
 cum peregrino negavit se iudicio aequo certare posse. 
 
 Concerning the death of M. Marius at the hands of Catiline, Com. 10: quid ego 
 nunc dicaiii pctere eum consniatum, qui liomincm carissimum p)opulo Romano, M. 
 Marium, inspectante populo Romano .... vivo stanti collum gladio sua dcxtera 
 secuerif, .... caput sua mamt, tulerit. In Tog. Cand. p. 78, 10: popidum vero, 
 cum inspectante populo collum secuit Jiominis maxime popularis, quanti faceret 
 ostendit: and ibid., p. 80, 22: caput etiam turn plenum animae et spiritus ad Syllam 
 .... manihus ipse suis detulit. 
 
 Of these passages and of a number of other rather striking points of contact 
 between the two works Biicheler says, p. 9: "et haec quidem aliaque de Autoni 
 praediis proscriptis, de Catilinae stupris, de Africa provincia, de testium dictis ac 
 iudicio etiam si pariter uterque vel tractavit vel elocutus est, tamen quod temporum 
 rerumque aut necessitate id factum est aut opportunitate, mutuatum esse alterum non 
 liquet." But concerning the two following passages he assumes that Marcus borrowed 
 consciously from the recent letter of Quintus. 
 
 Com. 10: qui nullum in locum tarn sanctum ac tarn rcligiosum accesserit in quo 
 non etiam si aliis culpa non essct, tamen ex sua nequitia dedecoris suspicionem 
 relinqueret. In Tog. Cand., p. 82, 3 (a passage which Asconius refers to a charge of 
 incest with the vestal Fabia): cum itavixisti ut non essct locus tarn sanctus quo non 
 adventus tuus etiam cum culpa nulla sid)esset crimen adferret. This the reading of 
 
 72
 
 Geokge Lincoln Hendkickson 
 
 the lemma: Asconius in his comment (ilml., vs. 8) gives etiam si, etc., as in the Com. 
 It is, I 6up[)ose, the cautious phraseology etiam si (iliis culpa non esset which Bacheler 
 means that Marcus found worth reproducing with etiam cum [si] culpa nulla subesset. 
 As for the rest, Cicero had already used a similar phrase of Verres (I, 62): ecquo 
 in oppido pedcm posuit iilii non plura \^tuproru7n flag it ior unique suorum^ adventus 
 sui vestigia reliqnerit? 
 
 Com. 12: quis enim reperiri jyotest tarn improbus civis, qui velit uno suffragio 
 duas in rem publicaru sicas destringere? In Tog. Cand., p. 83, 20 (which Asconius 
 prefaces with the words dicit do malis civibus): qui postraqnam illo <^quoy conati 
 erant Ilispaniensi 2^>i(/iunculo nervos incidere civium Jiomanorum non 2>otuerunt, 
 duas uno tempore conantur in rem publicam s/cr/.s destringere. 
 
 It is perhaps worth noting, but scarcely of any significance for our question, that 
 these four passages of most striking resemblance between the Commentariolum and 
 the oration in Toga Candida occur in the same sequence in both works. Concerning 
 this last example a significant point has been overlooked. In the first place the 
 antithesis of uno siiffragio with duas sicas destringere falls out of the figure in 
 puerile fashion, which is not the case with Marcus's very natural phrase dnas uno tem- 
 pore sicas destringere. But furthermore — and this to my thinking is a decisive 
 consideration — the essential antithesis in the oration is not between duas sicas and 
 imo iem2)ore, hwt between the Spanish siiletio (Hispanieiisi j^ugiunculo)," vfhich had 
 failed to cut the sinews of the state, and the two daggers (sicas) which the same citizens 
 were now attempting to draw. In the Commentariolum the metaphor is launched 
 abruptly, in trivial antithesis to uno suffragio, with rather frigid effect; in the frag- 
 ment of the in Toga. Candida the whole phrase duas in rem publicam sicas dish'ingere 
 is the natural outgrowth of and antithesis to the ])receding metaphor Hispaniensi 
 pugiunculo nervos incidere. That is, once given this metaphor, the second is an out- 
 growth of the historical relationships, and not a random shot of rhetorical pyrotechnics 
 as in the Commentariolum. But it will hardly be questioned, I imagine, that looked 
 at per se, the place where the metaphor is most natural and in most organic relation 
 to the context is most likely to be the original place of its occurrence. 
 
 Let us now turn to the oration jwo Murena, which likewise reveals some striking 
 points of contact with the Commentariolum. Some of the most essential parallels were 
 pointed out by Eussner, along with many examples of very doubtful character, which 
 only served to cast discredit upon his method. To these I added some further examples 
 in my former discussion. That there is in them such closeness of resemblance as 
 would point decisively to a relationship between the two documents has been denied by 
 Tyrrell and Schanz. Leo, however, recognizes them along with the passages of the 
 oration in Toga Candida as genuine reminiscences from the work of Quintus.* That 
 
 3 Asconius, loc. cit. : " Hispaniensem pugiunculum Cn. einzelne Wendungen aus der Schrift des Bruders verflochten, 
 
 Pisoncm appellat quem in Hispania occisum dixi." und auch die Rede pro Murena des n&chstea Jahrcs zeigt 
 
 t Loc. cit.. p. 449: "Dioser (Marcus Cicero) hat in die -Vnlilange an den Brief." 
 Rede in Toga Cond/da bald nach Empfangdes Briefes .... 
 
 73
 
 6 The Commentakiolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 some relationship between the two works exists, a comparison such as the following 
 must, I think, convince anyone. Pro Murena, 44: jjetitorcm ego, pracsertim consu- 
 latits, magna spe magna animo magnis coplis et in forum et in campyum dednci volo 
 [Com., 36: magnam affert opinionem, magnam dignitatem cotidiana in deducendo 
 frequentia] ; pZnce/ »((/«' .... p>ersalut(dio, praeseriim ciim iam hoc novo more omnes 
 fere domos omnium concursent [Com., 35: in salutatoribus, qui magis vulgares sunt 
 et hac consuetudine quae nunc est pluris veniunt], et ex voltu candidatorum coniec- 
 turam faciant quantum quisque animi et facultatis habere videatur. [Com., 34: nam 
 ex ea ipsa copia (assectatorum) coniectura fieri poterit, quantum sis in ipso campo 
 virium ac facult-atis habiturus]. 
 
 But it is possible, I am convinced, to go farther than merely to point out resem- 
 blances. It can be shown that certain ideas and certain expressions in the Commenta- 
 riolum are intelligible, or fully intelligible, only in the light of the oration j^^O 
 Murena. In Com., 55 the author admonishes Cicero, in view of the danger of bribery: 
 fao .... ut intellegas eum esse te quiiudicii ac pericidi mctum maximum competi- 
 foribus afferre possis, fac ut se abs te cusfodiri atque observari sciant. The admo- 
 nition concludes with a qualification as follows: atque haec ita nolo te illis proponere 
 ut videare accusationem iam meditari, sed ut hoc terrore facilius hoc ipsum quod agis 
 consequare. The words are not likely to strike one as obscure ; but it is nevertheless 
 not easy to see why Cicero is advised to show his teeth and yet not seem to be on the 
 point of bringing them together. It is rather a subtle balance which the words with 
 some ineptitude enjoin. Indictments of candidates by each other during the petitio 
 on charges of bribery were not unusual, and in this very canvass of 64, had not the 
 tribune of the peof)le, Q. Mucins Orestinus, intervened to prevent the passage of a 
 lex ambitus aucta etiam cum pioena (Asconius in the argument of the oration in 
 Tog. Cand., page 74), we might have had a legal action against Catiline and Antonius 
 instead of the senatorial speech in Toga Candida. As it was, Cicero used the oppor- 
 tunity of a protest against the interccssio of Orestinus to deliver himself of an invective 
 against his competitors which could not have differed greatly in moral significance 
 from an accusatio. But for some reason, the author of the Commentariolum admon- 
 ishes, Cicero must not seem accusationem iam meditari. The explanation of this 
 statement is afforded hj pro Murena, 43 ff., where at considerable length and with 
 much sprightly banter Cicero argues that Sulpicius lost his chance of election by stop- 
 ping in the midst of his candidacy to prosecute his opponents for bribery: ncscio quo 
 jjacto semper hoc fit, .... simul atque candidatus accusationem meditari visus est, 
 ut honorem desperasse videatur.^ The author of the Commentariolum has general- 
 ized this admonition (atque haec ita nolo te illis proponere ut videare accusationem 
 
 '" My statomont above, that Tyrrell denies that the re- probable that Marcus in his speech availed himself of a 
 semblances botweon the Com. and the pro Murena point to reminiscence of his brother's Essay which ho had perhaps 
 a relationship of any kind hotwe{;ri the two docnmcnts. re- been editinj^ very recently." But that this cannot be the re- 
 quires correction with reference to this example : " In this latiou has been made clear, 
 case," ho says (Vol. I'-', p. 119 extr.), "it seems to mo very 
 
 74
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 
 
 lam meditari) from the statement which suited the particular exigencies of Cicero's 
 argument in behalf of Murena. 
 
 This same special argument of the j>ro Murena serves to cast light upon still 
 another passage of the Commentariolum, which by itself has afforded not a little diffi- 
 culty to editors (52): cura .... vt etiam si qua 'pnx^it nc competitorihus tuis cjcistdt 
 aut sceleris ant libidinis aut lanjilionis accommodala ad corum mores infamia. The 
 question at issue here among the critics is whether ne shall be kept or omitted. Those 
 who look upon the text as sound (e. g., Orelli) appeal to the generous admonition of sec. 
 40 as a parallel. Bticheler combats this interpretation vigorously, and with Palermus 
 and Gulielmius thinks that ne is inappropriate- He sees in it a corruption of nova, 
 and would read accordingly ut si qua possit nova competitorihus existat infamia. 
 
 The text is, however, sound, but it would bo a mistake to attribute the thought to 
 a generous motive. The presence of the admonition here is closely connected with the 
 position which these words occupy as the conclusion of the partitio outlined in 41 — 
 speciem in publico.'' This final member is introduced by the words which immediately 
 precede the sentence under discussion thus: postremo tola jietitio cura ut pompae 
 plena sit, ut illnstris, ut splendida, ut popularis sit, id haheat summam speciem ac 
 dignitcdem, id etiam, etc. (as above). In what connection with this advice concerning 
 brilliancy and splendor of campaign the injunction under consideration (ne competi- 
 tor ibus existat infamia) stands it is not easy to see, nor is it strange that critics have 
 found it a block of stumbling. But here again the jwo Murena plays the role of com- 
 mentary to the writer's thought. We have already seen that Cicero tells Sulpicius 
 that he revealed his ignorance of the art of campaigning by prosecuting a competitor 
 in the course of his canvass. People demand, he says (44), of their candidate an 
 appearance of confidence, a brilliant display of resources, etc. (petitorem ego, praeser- 
 tim considatus, magna spe magna animo magnis cojnis et in campum et in forum 
 deduci volo). But Sul[)icius, busy with his prosecution, appeared downcast and 
 
 distracted: ['id) teinquirere videbaid,trisfem i2)sum,maestos arnicas : Catilinam 
 
 interea alacrem atque tact u in, stipatum. choro iuventutis, etc., and so, to escape the 
 impending success of Catiline, men voted for Murena. In the light of this description 
 it becomes clear why the author of the Commentariolum urges in this connection: ut si 
 qua 2^ossit (possis?) ne competitoribus tuis existed infamia. That is, following the 
 suggestion of Cicero's description in the jyro Murena, he advises that any notorious 
 scandal such as might be looked for from the character of his competitors {accomodata 
 ad eorum mores) be not allowed to come to public notice and (by compelling attention) 
 transform the brilliancy and dignity of Cicero's campaign into an uninteresting 
 prosecution. 
 
 There remains still another passage of the Commentariolum which I believe shows 
 even more clearly the dependence of its author upon the pro Murena. I pointed out 
 the verbal resemblance in my former article, though at that time I did not discern the 
 
 6 On the reading (for spent in republica of the MSS.) see below, p. 24. 
 
 75
 
 8 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 full significance of the passage for this question. In pro Murena, 21, Cicero ridicules 
 Sulpicius's contention that, having been at Eome engaged in the affairs of the forum, 
 he deserved the consulship rather than Murena, v^ho for so many years had been 
 absent in the army. After some further development of this theme Cicero reminds 
 Sulpicius that the very fact of always being in Rome and in the forum causes people 
 to grow tired of one's presence: ista nostra adsiduitas, Servi, iicscis quantum interdum 
 adfcrat hommibus fastidii, quantum satietatis. In his own case, he continues, presence 
 had been of advantage, but only by diligent effort had he overcome its disadvantages: 
 niihi quidem vchemeutcr cxpediit positam in oculis esse gratiamj sed tamen ego mei 
 satictxdcm magno mco labore su^ieravi. With unmistakable reminiscence of the same 
 phraseology, the author of the Commentariolum says under the caption assiduitas (43) : 
 prodest quidem vchementer nusquam discedere; sed tamen hie fructus est assiduitatis, 
 710)1 solum esse Romae atque in for o, sed assidue peter e, etc. In this passage, apart 
 from the striking formal resemblances, the reader will discern the whole background 
 of Cicero's discussion in the pro Murena — the suggestion that mere presence in Eome 
 is not necessarily an advantage (quidem), that the true reward of assiduitas can only 
 come to one, as it came to Cicero, by diligent effort. The author has generalized for 
 the purpose of his argument the exception which Cicero makes in his own case (mihi 
 quidem).^ In this example, as in the preceding one, the text of the Commentariolum 
 has not gone unchallenged. The adversative idea introduced by sed tamen, which is 
 perfectly clear in the light of the pii'O Murena, has caused difficulty, and was trans- 
 posed by Eussner to the end of the section (after rogatuni). 
 
 The resemblances of the Commentariolum to the long first letter of Marcus ad 
 Quintum fratrem are of a somewhat different character from those thus far considered. 
 For it is obvious that the totally different subject-matter would not afford to the author 
 precepts de pietitione consulatus. The resemblance is generic rather than specific. 
 But in any theory of the spuriousness of the Commentariolum it must be the most 
 natural hypothesis to assume that the letter of Marcus furnished the later rhetorician 
 or rhetorical student with the suggestion of an epistolary suasoria of similar kind. 
 No one can read the two works side by side without feeling a certain relationship 
 between them, and yet in the matter of detailed resemblances there is nothing of a 
 decisive character which can be adduced. In making this statement I should fear that 
 I might seem merely to reflect the impression of a prejudiced mind if I could not 
 appeal to the words of Biicheler on this point, written before the question of authen- 
 ticity had been raised (p. 10): "Marcus par pari quodam modo rettulit missa ad 
 fratrem epistula praeclara I, 1, quae cum in genere scribendi .... proxume ad 
 commentariolum hoc acccdat, tiim singula habet adsimilia velut ibi quae leguntur § 37 
 
 7 That Cicero's treatment of the matter in the j^ro Mu- I would note further in this connection that Tydeman 
 
 rena arises from the particular circumstances of the case finds the relationship between Com., 37 and pro Muixna, 70 
 
 in hand seems to have been noted also by Tydeman, " In so close, that Marcus " hinic Quinti locum oculis proposi- 
 
 Q. C'iceronis do pet. cons, librum aduotatio," Leyden, 1838: turn habuisso videatur" (p. 55). 
 " Nee metuenda v,sl ilia assiduitatis satietus, Quam causae 
 aUiue amici gratia Cicero rcfert." 
 
 76
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 9 
 
 admodum coiicinunt cum Quiiiii Bententia§39." The passages are as follows: (Cicero 
 says that the only cxcoiitioii he hears to the praise of Quiiitus touches his proneiiess to 
 anger): 7ion suscipiam id quae dc ivdcumUd did ftolcnl d doctissinua honiinibus ea 
 nunc tibi exponam. And a little further on: nequc e<jo nunc hoc coniendo .... 
 mufare animum .... sed te illud admoneo, etc. Compare Com., 39: non est huius 
 tcmporis p)erpctua ilia de hoc genere disputatlo, quibus rebus benivolus et simulator 
 diiudicari possitj tantum est /nu'h.s tciiqmris admonere. 
 
 In the oration pro Cdclio, after reviewing the charges which had been made 
 against Caelius of impiety toward his father and of having won the disaj)probatiou of 
 his fellow-townsmen, Cicero refutes them by the presence and the grief of Caelius's 
 parents and municipales, and concludes: videor mihi iecisse fundarncnta defensionis 
 meae, quae firmissima sunt si nituntur iudicio snorum. The author of the Commen- 
 tariolum at the beginning of the second main division of the treatise (Ifi) discusses 
 the significance for Cicero's canvass of the siudia amicornm, a topic which is then 
 analyzed at considerable length. After pointing out that the term amicus is of wider 
 application in the pefitio than in the rest of life, he says we must nevertheless remem- 
 ber that the friendships which depend upon natural ties of blood and affinity, or any 
 relationship, are of first importance. The situation, it will be seen, is analogous to 
 that set forth in the passage of the oration 2^^''^ Caelio, cited above. The concluding 
 words of both passages are here set side by side. Pro Cuel., G: ab liis fontibus pro- 
 fiuxi ad homiiiuui famam et meus hie forcnsis labor vifaeque ratio dimanavit ad 
 existimationem homitium paido latins commendatione ac iudicio meorum. Com., 17: 
 nam fere omnis sermo ad forensem famam a domesticis emanat auctoribus. The 
 similarity of the two passages in relation to the general argument of both works, the 
 identity in thought, and such verbal resemblances as famam, forensis, dimanavit 
 {emanat), lead me to believe that we have here a genuine reminiscence of Cicero.^ 
 
 But more striking than resemblances to words of Cicero, though not more decisive 
 for proving the later origin of the work, are two passages, which I pointed out before, 
 containing reminiscences from Horace and from Publilius Synis respectively. I 
 revert to them again for the sake of making my list of significant resemblances com- 
 plete, and to add a further consideration which was overlooked before. Horace, Serm., 
 I, 3, 58: [Bene sanus ac non incautus (G1)J hie fugit_omnis \\ insidias nullique nialo 
 latus obdit apertum, || cum genus hoc inter vitae versetur ubi acris |] invidia afque 
 vigent ubi crimina. Com., 54: video esse magni consilii atque artis in tot hominum 
 cuiusque modi vitiis tantisque versantem vitare offensionem vitare fabulam vitare 
 insidias. That esse magni consilii atque artis is the essential equivalent of bene 
 
 8 The resemblances between Com., 9 and de Ear. Resp., such biographical summaries of invective (Verr. Ill, 63; 
 
 42, 1 have not repeated from my former article, because the IV. 126). 
 
 relationship is probably not a direct one. I suspect that I would add here another parallel to which, however, 
 
 the oration zn Toffa Cand. contained a review of the life of I attach do particular significance. Coin.,2: ita jmratus 
 
 Catiline, similar to the passage of the de Har. Besp. di- ad dicendum venito, quasi in singuiis causis iudicium de 
 
 rected against Clodius. and that the passage of the Com. omni ingenio futurum sit. With this compare de Or., I, 
 
 is derived from the former of these. Cicero has many r25: quotienseiiimdicimus totiens deriobis iudicaiur. 
 
 77
 
 10 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 sanus ac non iiicantiis may perhaps appear more plainly from the Horatian designa- 
 tion of the names which malice gives to discretion [ihiil., Gl): j3ro bene sano ac non 
 incauto fictum [artis] astutumque [consilii] vocamus. But it is not only the fact of 
 parallelism which leads me to think that this is a conscious reminiscence of Horace : 
 the introductory formula video esse is the author's acknowledgment of a reminiscence 
 which he could not expect to pass unobserved. This use of video is one of the most 
 constant forms of introduction for a quotation, an appeal to authority, or an example 
 based on literary evidence. For example, de Lccj.,!!, 8: lianc video sapientissiinorum 
 fiiisse sentodiam. Or., G7: video vismn esse nonnidlis, and many others. 
 
 The reminiscence from Publilius Syrus is found in Com., 45: illud difficilius 
 
 (est) .... quod facere non possis, ut id lucundeneges Cum id j^etitur quod 
 
 . . . . promittcre non possumus .... belle negandum est Audivi hoc dicere 
 
 quendam de quibusdam oratoribus ad quos causam suam detulisset, gratiorem sibi 
 orationem eins fnisse qui negnssct quam illius qui recepisset. With this compare 
 Publilius Syrus, Senicntiac [ap. Gelliiim, 17, 14): j)('^s henefici est quod peiitur si 
 belle neges. There can be no doubt it seems to me that the passage of the Commen- 
 tariolum presents a paraphrase of the Sententia of Publilius, in which the point of 
 the original saying appears first in the form iucunde neges, but is betrayed a moment 
 later by belle negandum; while it will not escape notice that j^ars benejici of Publilius 
 is paraphrased by graliorem sibi orationem, etc. Furthermore, in a manner somewhat 
 similar to the use of video esse in the reminiscence from Horace above, audivi here 
 affords a sort of acknowledgment of the borrowed phrase, which the writer could not 
 expect to pass unnoticed. The juxtaposition belle negare does not seem to occur else- 
 where, and our passage may serve to defend the text of Publilius as presented by the 
 MSS. of Gellius (reading velle). As early as the time of Macrobius ciio neges formed 
 the conclusion of the line and became the vulgate reading. 
 
 In view, therefore, of these resemblances I do not hesitate to reaffirm my convic- 
 tion that the Commentariolum is the work of some rhetorical student, who chose the 
 epistolary form in which to write a suasoria which should be a counterpart to Cicero's 
 first letter ad Quintum frairem. As was natural, he made use primarily of the orations 
 of Cicero which bore most directly on his theme — of the oration in Toga Candida for 
 his invective against Catiline and Antonius, and of the oration pro Muroia for pre- 
 cepts de petitione consulafus. In one instance as we have seen (p. 5) he reproduced 
 from the oration in Toga Candida the second part of a continued metaphor [duas in 
 rem pnblicam sicas destringere), overlooking the fact that it had significance only in rela- 
 tion to the part i>Teceding[His2Kmie7isi2)ugiunculo .... nervos incidere). Fresh from 
 the reading of the jjco Murena, he not unnaturally incorporated into his treatise some 
 ideas and expressions which are only inteiligil)le in the light of that speech, and these 
 instances afford the most conclusive proof of tlie spuriousness of the work. The letter 
 was not, of course, meant as a forgery — it was merely a rhetorical exercise, and in the 
 concluding words one can still seem to detect the deferential tone of a pupil asking for 
 
 78
 
 Geoege Lincoln Hendkickson 11 
 
 criticism of his master, and commending in modest words the earnestness of his pur- 
 pose: si quid mutiindnm esse viilcbilnr aid omnino tollcndum, ant si quid erit prue- 
 teritiun, vcliiu hoc mihi dicas; volo cnim hoc commentariolum petitionis haheri omni 
 ratiouc pcyfcdiiiti!' But, as Ijeing an exercise and not a deliberate literary forgery, 
 no care was taken to avoid anachronism iu the use of the material. ] n lexicography 
 and grammatical usage the language points to a relatively early date, but this cannot 
 afford the slightest ground of objection to the conclusion that the work is spurious, as 
 Schanz urges. We know from the elder Seneca that only a few years after the death 
 of Cicero declaimers were busy with sitasoriae which dealt with his career, and 
 Asconius tells us of spurious orations which purported to be the replies of Catiline and 
 Antonius to the oration in Toga Candida. 
 
 RHETORICAL FORM 
 
 It is a commonplace of text-criticism that we are not justified merely in rejecting, 
 no matter how grave the suspicion which we may cast upon the text called into ques- 
 tion; we must advance a step farther and account for the presence of the interpolation. 
 A similar demand is made of higher criticism, although in the present case it would 
 seem to be met adequately by the general suggestion outlined above, of a rhetorical 
 exercise which should be the counterpart of ad Quintum fraircm, I, 1. But inasmuch 
 as this does not seem to have conveyed to some of the adherents of authenticity a 
 satisfactory explanation of the theory of origin, it will not perhaps be superfluous at 
 this point to indicate more accurately the rhetorical source and the literary affinities of 
 the Commentariolum. 
 
 Ziehen, in the paper cited above (p. 3), says: "den Zweck dieser Khetoren- 
 falschung .... vermogen wir nicht recht zu erkenuen" (p. 84). To these words 
 Gurlitt (Jahresbericht, Vol. lOU, 1901, p. 1('>) replies: "den Zweck eiuer Schultibung, 
 einer Suasorie, unter denen das consilium dare bekanntlich zu den beliebtesten Themata 
 gehorte." Gurlitt's words I quote gratefully as giving the true name and classification 
 to the work in the exercises of the rhetorical schools. To be sure the suasoriae which 
 the elder Seneca describes (and which will occur to the reader most naturally as 
 specimens of this form) are, in the situations which they present, of a somewhat 
 different character. They show us Alexander or Cicero, for instance, deliberating 
 between two alternative plans, or lines of conduct (dclihcrat Alexander an Oceantim 
 naviget; delibcrat Cicero an Aufoiiium deprcceiur), the one or the other of which is 
 urged by the advisers who deliver the suasoriae. In none of them is advice given 
 concerning the attainment of a concrete end. Nevertheless the purpose, consilium dare, 
 is the same as that which underlies the Commentariolum. The field was obviously 
 wide, and that the material might assume many forms, Quintilian observes (III, 8, 15): 
 nam et consultantium et consiliorum plurima suid genera. 
 
 9 In one other case the conscious pupil seems to peer through (49) : ac nevidear aberrasse a distributione mea qui 
 haec in hac populari parte petitionis disputetti, hoc scquor. 
 
 79
 
 12 The Commentakiolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Ciceko 
 
 The pars ddibcrativa says Quintilian (ibid., 6) quae eadcm siiasoria dicitur 
 .... officris constat duobiis suadendi ac dissuadendij its goal as defined conven- 
 tionally by the rhetoricians is utilitas, a conception which Quintilian finds too narrow 
 and to which he adds honesfas, especially in the quacstio inter utile atque honestum 
 (ibid., 24). With reference to arrangement the suasoria requires only a brief 
 proocmium, if any be used at all (etiam cum prooemio utimur, breriore tamen et velut 
 quodam capite tantum et initio debemus esse contenti) ; a narratio is likewise unneces- 
 sary in a matter of private deliberation — quia nemo igyiorat id de quo consulit (ibid., 
 10). 
 
 Into this rhetorical framework the Commentarioliini falls without constraint. 
 Cicero is bidden to deliberate on the circumstances of his petitio (2) : prope cotidie 
 tibi ad forum dcscendenfi meditandumst; and the writer offers the results of his own 
 reflections {quae milii vcniebant in mcntem dies ac noctes de petit ione tua cogitanti) in 
 the form of admonition to or warning against certain lines of conduct. Of technical 
 language, apart from that which has just been cited, which reveals the author's con- 
 sciousness of the rhetorical form which he is using, one may note (46): illud alterum 
 (<(iit false promittasy) subdurum tibi homini Platonico suadere, sed tamen tempori 
 consulam. (27): hoc quod ego tehortor, etc. {39): tantum est huiustempor is admonere 
 (c/. Emporius de deliberativa mcderia. Halm, p. 572, 15: suasio est ... . admonendi 
 causa). Utilitas as the goal of the writer's admonition appears constantly in 
 phraseology of every kind ; the frequent use of adiuvare and prodesse may be noted 
 especially {e. g., in sees. 4—6). In some cases the quacstio inter utile cdque honestum 
 is raised and answered without hesitation in favor of the former; as for instance in the 
 example cited above: sed tempori consulam, where see the whole context 45-48. Cf also 
 such examples as 42: opus est blanditia, quae etiamsi vitiosa et turpis in cetera vita, 
 tamen in pet it tone nccessaria est; and 25: potcs honeste [in petit ione), quod in cetera 
 vita non queas, etc. Practically all the utterances in the Commentariolum which may 
 be classed as exhorting to dishonorable conduct belong in this category, and we shall 
 judge them less harshly if we remember that they follow a conventional precept of the 
 genus deliberativum (r. Quintilian, loc. cit., 41 and 42). The end, in short, must 
 justify the means, and the author of our treatise thought not otherwise (56) : et plane 
 sic contende omnibus nervis ac facultatibus ut adipiscamur quod petimns {cf 
 Quintilian, loc. cit., 34: videndum quid consecturi simus et per quid; ut acstimari 
 pussit plus in eo quod pet imus sit commodi an vero in eo per quod pictimus incom- 
 modi). In arrangement the Commentariolum corresponds to Quintilian's rule cited 
 above, in that it has a very brief prooemium, from which it passes over immediately to 
 the ty-actatio: narrationem vero numquam exigit prircda drlibcratio (Quint., Ill, 8, 
 10). It is to be said, however, that the first topic of the tractatio in a manner supplies 
 the place of a narratio, as is explained below. 
 
 This question of the relation of our treatise to rhetorical theory may be con- 
 cluded with the following observations, which afford us a glimpse into the very work- 
 
 80
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 13 
 
 shop of tlie rhetorician. In introducing the question of the material of the sttasoria 
 Quintilian pk'ads for a wider range than his predecessors had admitted, and begins his 
 treatment thus (loc. cH., 15): quare in suadendo et dissuadcndo tria primum spec- 
 tanda erunt: quid sit do quo deliberetur, qui sint qui delibcreni, qui sit qui suadeat. 
 It is with reference to this precept that our author distributes his matter in the opening 
 of the treatise proper as follows (2): civitas quae sit, cogita, quid pctas \^=quid sit 
 de quo deliberetur^, qui sis [=qui sint qui delibereiit]. After thus making recogni- 
 tion of the fundamental considerations of the j^o's suasoria, this abstract rhetorical 
 formula is repeated in reverse order with the special conditions of the particular case 
 filled in: ad forum descendenti meditandumst : novus sum \^qui sis'\, consulatum pcto 
 \_quid petas^, Roma est [civitas quae sit]. The merit which the writer claims for his 
 performance lies not in any originality of suggestion, but in this methodical analysis 
 and arrangement of the matter in accordance with rule (1): td ea quae in re dispersa 
 atque infinita viderentur esse ratione et distributione sub uno aspccfu ponerentur. 
 
 That of Quintilian's threefold division the member qui sit qui suadeat is here lack- 
 ing, is most natural. For whatever might be said of the qualifications of the writer to 
 give advice, or in justification of his doing so, would belong to a preface or epilogue (as 
 we shall see in a parallel example below), and not to the advice itself. In the situation 
 which the Commentariolum presents the topic is sufficiently covered by allusion to 
 fraternal affection as the author's motive for writing [amore nostro non sum alienum 
 arbitratus, in the preface). Of the three divisions into which the tractatio is thus 
 distributed, the third, Roma est, is treated very briefly at the end (54-6). The whole 
 emphasis lies upon the other two divisions, and especially upon the second (consulatum 
 peto), which really forms the essential tractatio and justifies the author's designation 
 of his work as a commentariolum pctitionis. I suspect, however, that the writer 
 having in mind a threefold analysis of the pars suasoria such as Quintilian presents, 
 and being unable to use the rubric qui sit qui suadeat as a part of his argument, cast 
 about for a third member which should take the place of it. He found it perhaps in 
 such a precept of the genus deliberativum as Cicero presents in de Oratore, II, 
 337: ad consilium de re publica dandum caput est 7iosse rem p>ublicam: that 
 is, civitas quae sit cogita. In further confirmation of this suggestion I would quote 
 the words which follow in Cicero: ad dicendum vero probabiliter nosse mores civitatis, 
 qui quia crebro mutantur genus quoque orationis est saepe mutandum. With this 
 compare the following passage from the treatment of the topic in the Commentariolum 
 (54): video esse magni consilii atque artis .... esse unum homincm accommodatum 
 ad tantam morum ac sermonum ac voluntatum varietatemj quare etiam atque etiam 
 perge tenere istam viam quam institisti, excelle diccndo. (A suggestion of this third 
 topic is contained in Quintilian {loc. cit.) in allusion to the passages of the de Oratore 
 just cited; Cicero .... duo esse praecipue nota voluit, vires civitatis et mores.) 
 
 The Commentariolum is therefore a suasoria composed in accordance with the 
 precepts of rhetorical theory. A classical and genuine model of the type in epistolary 
 
 81
 
 14 The Commentakiolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 form is afforded by the letter of Cicero ad Quinium fratrem to which frequent alhision 
 has been made. But in spite of generic resemblance it reveals a somewhat different 
 character; for the advice given is of a more general ethical nature (protreptic or parae- 
 netic) than practical and with reference to the attainment of a concrete end.'" Still more 
 essentially they differ in this respect, that the letter of Marcus is truly epistolary and 
 maintains throughout a vital relationship with the personality of the one addressed. 
 In form it conserves the freedom of an epistle and is wholly absolved from the con- 
 straint of a rhetorical formula. It is impossible, for instance, to detect in it any regard 
 for rhetorical precepts such as govern the arrangement of the Commeniariohim. 
 
 For closer parallels in this respect we must descend to the plane on which, as I 
 have explained above, the Commeiitariolum seems to me to belong — to the declamatory 
 literature of the schools, written under the impersonation of an historical name and 
 situation [prosoiiopoeiae).^^ Of this kind there are two quasi-epistolary documents 
 which I would cite as closely analogous in conception and technique to our letter: 
 the two pseudo-Sallustian treatises ad Caesarcm scncm de re p^ihlica. They are 
 edited by Jordan (3d ed., pp. 139-52) as inccrfi rhcforis snasoriae — a classification 
 which requires no justification. The second is an epistle, as pcvlectis littcris in 12, 1, 
 shows; that the first on the other hand is an oratio, as Jordan inscribes it, the form 
 does not seem to me to indicate conclusively."^ It is, however, a matter of no vital 
 importance, for the second with its fervid epilogue shows how little check the epistolary 
 form imposed upon the style. The arrangement of matter in both is essentially the 
 same; for illustration the first will suffice. It consists of a 2^)X)0cmin)a (1) setting 
 forth the duty of all to give Csesar siich advice as each one finds possible; a brief nar- 
 ratio (2) setting forth the situation, for the instruction of the declaimer's audience, 
 rather than for the benefit of Caesar (c/. Quintilian, above, p. 12), a tractatio (3-8, 6) 
 with twofold division de hello afque pace, and a brief epilogue (8,7). 
 
 The tractatio is introduced thus: igifiir quouiam tihi viciori de hello af(jite pcice 
 agitaiidumest, .... de te ij^so primuni, qui ea compositurus es, quid optiiuiim facta 
 sit existnma. Although the writer here begins with the topic de te ipiso, the division 
 concludes with the words (5, iiiit): de hello satis dictum. That is the topic qui sit 
 qui deliheret (Quintilian, sitjn'a) is merged with a portion (.sc. de hello) of the topic 
 quid sit de quo deliheretur. This latter division is made especially prominent in 
 introducing the second part (5): de pace jirmanda, quoniani tuijue et onines tui agitatis, 
 jjrimum id, quaeso, considera quale sit de quo consultas. The epilogue (8, 7) sum- 
 marizes the two preceding topics of the genus deh'herativum [quae rei puhlicae 
 
 WQn the distinction see Syrianus in Walz, IV, 763 (cited limac videntur prosopopociae. in guibus ad reliquum 
 
 by VoLKMANN, T^Aetorifc, p. 294). That tho letter of Cicero suasoriae lahorcm accedtt etiam jiersoiKie diJJicuUds. The 
 
 belouKS to tho general category may bo .shown in rather an ordinary mitaioria advised Cicero, for instance, but without 
 
 interesting way by comparison witii tiie typical specimen of definition of the person of tho adviser. 
 
 tho eVto-ToAj) iTviJ.fiov>,€vTiKri whidi is contained in tlie psendo- 
 Demetrian tuttoi ein(TToAt*<oi (Ilercher, p. 3, section 11). The 
 resemblance in argumout to ad Quint, f rat., I, 1, is noto- 
 
 12 Jordan's reasons for assigning this title arc, I pre- 
 sume, set forth in his treatise De suasfn-iis ad Cccsarem 
 
 fit'tiem de re puhlica (Berlin, 1868), which I regret has been 
 worthy. -ui i 
 
 inaccessible to me. 
 
 11 C/. Quintilian, III. 8, 40: ideoque Innye mihi difflcil- 
 
 82
 
 George Lincoln Hendeickson 15 
 
 necessaria [de quo dcIilM-rctm'] iihiqiic (jlorioi^d \(jiii (Iclihcrct] ralus sum, quam 
 paucissiniis ajtsoln') and turns briefly to the tliird, qui sit quisiiddcai, in tlie succeeding 
 words: non j)eius vidctur pauca nunc de facto mco disserere. The background of 
 rhetorical theoi-y which governs the arrangement of the matter is the same as in the 
 Commentariolum. As there the topic qui sit qui suadcat was touched on but slightly 
 in the preface {amorc nosfro nan sum aliennm arhitrdtus ad te perscrihere), so 
 in the first suasoria ad CacKaron it is alluded to briefly in the conclusion. 
 
 In the second suasoria the author sets forth in the prooemium his qualifications 
 for giving advice (the topic we have just considered), but has no thought of finding 
 anything which would not occur to Caesar himself [quod non cogitanti tibi in promptu 
 sit). His only hope is to come to the assistance of Csesar amidst the distracting cares 
 of military and ])ublic life: scd inter lahores militiae interque proclia victorias impe- 
 rium sfafui adnionendum te de negotiis urhanis (2, 2). The excuse of the impersonator 
 of Quintus Cicero for addressing Marcus is the same. He does not expect to suggest 
 anything new {nan ut aliquid ex his novi addisceres, sec. 1), nor does he arrogate 
 to himself superior knowledge; he would only undertake what Cicero has not leisure 
 for (epilogue): hacc sunt quae putavi non melius scire me quam te, sed facilius his 
 tuis occupationibus coltigere unum in locum jwsse et ad te perscripta mittere. 
 
 It is noteworthy that in both the suasoriae ad Caesarem the iractaiio consists of 
 a twofold division of the topic quid sit de quo deliberetur, which is, however, difl^erent 
 in each: in I, de hello (dque pace, as we have seen; in II it is introduced thus (5): 
 in duas partes ego civitatem divisam arbitror, sicut a maioribus accepi, in patres et 
 plebem. In the Commentariolum, I have observed above, there is no regular narratio; 
 the tractatio begins at once with the topic qui sis-novus sum. But it will be seen on 
 a perusal of this first section that in setting forth the subsidia uovitatis — the friends 
 on whom Cicero may rely, the character of his opponents, etc. — the author has put 
 the reader in possession of the main features of the situation. The tractatio proper there- 
 upon occupies the large central portion of the treatise (16-54) and (as in the suasoriae 
 ad Caesarem above), divides the rhetorical topic quid sit de quo deliberetur (quid 
 petas) into two divisions (10): petit io may istrcduum divisa est in duarum raiionum 
 dili gentium, quorum altera in amicorum stiidiis altera in populari voluidaie ponenda 
 est. The transition from the siudia amicorum to the popularis voluntas is made 
 in 41, as follows: quouium de amicitiis constifuendis satis dictum est, dicendum est de 
 ilia altera parte petitionis quae in populari ratione versatur. Compare with this the 
 transition at the beginning of the second division in the second suasoria ad Caesarem 
 (10, init.): nunc quoniam, sicut niilii ridcor, de plebe renovanda corrigendaque s(dis 
 disserui, de scnatu quae tibi agenda videninr dicam {cf. also the first, chap. 5, init.). 
 It will thus be seen that in the conception of a situation {Q. Cicero ad Marcum 
 fratrem de petitione consulatvs), in the rhetorical arrangement and divisions, in the 
 assumed motive for writing, and in the main transitions there is much similarity 
 between the Commentariolum and the pseudo-Sallustian suasoriae ad Caesarem senem 
 
 83
 
 16 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 de re puhlica. Not less striking are some details of language and treatment. A few 
 examples will suffice to show the similarity of hortatory forms, which for convenience 
 I take from the second ad Cacsarcm. 4, 4: quo 7nagis tihi etiam atque etiam animo 
 prospiciendum est quonam modo rem stabilias communiasquc. (Com., 55: quare 
 etiam atque etiam percje tenere istam viam quam institisti). 5, 8: lios ego censeo 
 permijctos cum veteribus novos in coloniis constituas. {Com., 18: hos tu homines 
 quibuscumque p)ofcris rationibus nt .... tui studiosi sintelahorato). 6, G: quotibi, 
 imperaior, maiore cura fideique amici ct midta praesidia j)aranda sunt. (Com., 22: 
 quam ob rem omnes codurias multis et variis amicitiis cura id confirmaias habeas). 
 8, 3: haec ego magna remedia contra divitias statuo. {Com., 56: atque haec ita nolo 
 te illis proponere). 8, 5: si pecuniae decus ademeris, magna ilia vis avar it iae facile 
 bonis morihus vincrtur. {Com., 30: ex his principes ad amicitiam tuam si adiunxeris, 
 pier eosreliquammuUitudinem- facile tencbis). 11, 3: sed quoniam coacquari gratiam 
 omnium difficile est, .... sententias corum, a metu libera. (Com., 55: ct quoniam 
 in hoc vel maxime est vitiosa. civifas .... fac uf, etc.). 
 
 In the treatment of the invective directed against the opponents of Caesar there is 
 much which is analogous to the abuse of Cicero's competitors in the Commentariolum. 
 Compare the introduction to this section in 8, 6: tibi cum factione nobilitatis haiit 
 mediocrifer certandu m est. quoins si dnhim careris, alia omnia in proclivi erunt, with 
 the conclusion of the corresponding division of the Com., 12: quare tibi si fades ea 
 . . . . quae debes, non difficile ferity cerfamen cum cis competitoribus, etc. Of the 
 opponents of Caesar, Bibulus Domitius and Cato are the only ones counted worthy of 
 special abuse (9, 4): reliqui de factione sunt inertissimi nobilcs, in quibus sicut in 
 titulo practer bonum nomen niliil est additamenti (followed by scornful allusions to the 
 impotence of Postumius and Favonius). Similarly in the Commentariolum Catiline 
 and Antouius are treated as the only significant competitors of Cicero (7): nam P. 
 G album el L. Cassium summo loco natos quis est qui jwtcre considcdum. putet ? vides 
 igitur amplissimis ex familiis Jiomines, quod sine nervis snnf, fihi pares non esse. 
 The writer continues : at Catilina et Antonius molesti sunt : immo homini navo . . . . 
 innocenti .... optandi competitores, ambo a pueritia sicai-ii, etc. With the same 
 ayrj^a Xe^eo)'; the more important opponents of Ca3sar are introduced (9, init.) : M. 
 Bibuli fortitudo tdque animi ris in constdatum erupit: hcbcs lingua, magis mains 
 quam callidus ingenin. But see the whole context of both documents for further 
 illustration. 
 
 But in spite of many such resemblances in detail it is nevertheless to be said that 
 the minuteness of subdivision and of detailed admonition in the Commentariolum is 
 not paralleled by the suasoriae ad Caesarem. They move in a larger atmosphere of 
 generalities and reveal accordingly more of the recognized traits of the declamatory 
 exercise. But in excuse for the absence of detailed suggestions the writer of the 
 second suasoria describes what he might have done in words which are (though in a 
 different subject-matter) an accurate characterization of what the author of the Com- 
 
 84
 
 George Lincoln Hendrickson 17 
 
 meninriohim has done. Ilis laiigufige may serve as evidence that such a detailed 
 treatment of a theme was not alien to the practice of the schools (12, init.) : forsitan, 
 imperator, pcrledis litteris, desideres quern numerum senatorum fieri placeat, qtioque 
 modo is in mulid et varia officia disiril)Ufdur; indicia, qnoniam omnibus jorimne classis 
 commitienda pideni, qnae discripiio, quei uumerus in qnoquc (jencre fniurus sit. ea 
 mihi omnia generatim discribere liaud dijjicilc factu fin'l. One need only glance 
 briefly at the argument of the Commeufariolum to see how accurately it has carried 
 out the kind of treatment which the author of the suasoria here indicates. For 
 example, under the main heading of the tradaiio {de studiis amicorum) the author 
 analyzes the number and character of those whom Cicero must consider and make 
 his friends, and enumerates the duties which must be assigned to each. A single 
 precept typical of many will suffice in illustration [Com., 20): fac id plane eis omni- 
 bus [amicis) .... discriptum ac disjwsifnm sutim cnique munus sit. 
 
 The foregoing exposition of the literary form of the Commentariolum, and of its 
 relationship to undisputed products of the rhetorical schools, should afford, I think, 
 an entirely satisfactory theory of origin. That the author was able to maintain the 
 role and the situation which he had assumed without serious violation of historical 
 truth was due, probably, less to painstaking care to avoid error in this respect, than 
 to the security of the subject-matter and the method of its treatment. For, except 
 in the first division, which deals with Cicero's competitors, and in which the author 
 was able to follow the oration in Toga Candida, there is very little allusion to 
 historical personages or events. In one such case our treatise is at variance with 
 the statement of Asconius.'^ In another instance Mommsen [loc. cit., supra, p. 3), 
 has noted that a distinction is made (in 33) between the cqnifes proper and the young 
 men who are classed with them in the centuriae equitum, which is contrary to Cicer- 
 onian usage, and therefore for this period erroneous. But on the whole the writer 
 has kept himself so closely to abstract analysis and classification that he has run little 
 danger of falling into demonstrable error. 
 
 Though the rhetorical origin of the work might have escaped detection from this 
 point of view, yet, as we have seen, its character is revealed by the use of literary 
 sources subsequent to the date of the situation assumed. But not less clearly I think 
 is the rhetorician unmasked in the pedantic division of his matter in accordance with 
 the precepts which we find in Quintilian. For it is to be kept in mind that Quintilian 
 in designating the three topics to which every deliberation is to be referred does not 
 teach that these are to form the outline of the argument. It is merely that a 
 contemplation of the subject under deliberation, of the person deliberating, and of the 
 person giving advice, shall yield the points of view from which the matter is to be 
 treated, and govern the style and tone. Nothing more can have been intended, as 
 
 '3 It is with reference to the defence of Q. Gallius, which in a single instance cannot be used for the question of 
 
 according to the Com., 19 had already been made. Asconius authenticity; for if the Com. is a genuine document the 
 
 p. 78, 29, comments: Q. Gallium, quern imsteareumamtntus evidence of Asconius must yield to a contemporary witness: 
 
 de/endit, idgnificare videiur. But a conflict of testimony if it be spurious, credence must be given rather to Asconius. 
 
 85
 
 18 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 is shown by the fact that the same considerations were named by the technicians 
 for the composition of letters (R. L. M., p. 589: in ejyistolis considcrandum est, qnis 
 ad quern et qua de re scribaf). It is the index of a naive intelligence that the authors 
 of the three siiasoriae which we have considered have carried over into the division 
 of their arguments this general injunction. In the suasoriae which the elder Seneca 
 reports it is evident that much stress was laid upon a careful and exhaustive divisio;^* 
 in them there is a distinct fondness for a threefold division, but I have observed no 
 case where it consists of these three topics. 
 
 style 
 
 But if the Commcniariolum is the work of a rhetorical sttident are there then any 
 features of the style which would seem appropriately to characterize such a soiirce? 
 That the style is ''dry and sober and unlovely" {sicca sobria invenusta) Bticheler 
 has said, and with this judgment as a whole no one will quarrel. But our question 
 has been answered more directly by Leo who says {loc. cit., 41:7): "von rhetorischem 
 Stil ist in der Schrift keine Spur." He further points out that the elaborate and 
 painful disfrihutio is rather an archaic featui'e of the style than evidence of later 
 origin in a rhetorical school. He observes also that Quintus was a Stoic and betrays 
 a Stoic's pride in dialectical artifice. If, in fact, as de Divinationc, I, 10, would seem 
 to show {circem tu quidem Stoicorum, Qiiinte, defendis), Quintus was a Stoic, we are 
 in a better position to understand the significance of de Oratore, II, 10 and 11, in 
 which playful allusion is made to Quintus's aversion to rhetoric, and we need not 
 hesitate to identify it with the general hostility of Stoicism to practical rhetoric. 
 
 As for the painstaking distribntio, we have seen above that it finds jiarallels in the 
 school suasoriae, though we may grant that it is sufiiciently characteristic of the 
 dialectical manner: but to deny that there are any traces of rhetorical style in the 
 treatise is to shut one's eyes to some very obvious examples and to a still larger number 
 which are ])erliaps somewhat less obvious. Of successful or admirable rhetoric there 
 is, to be sure, none at all, but of forced and puerile striving after rhetorical effects 
 there is an abundance throughout the work. Not to mention the frigid vehemence of 
 the invective directed against Catiline and Antonius (7-12), which contains the prin- 
 cipal lumina dicendi of the work, we have such trivial antitheses as the following (2) : 
 ita parafus ad dicendum venito quasi in singulis causis iudicium de omni ■iui/e7iio 
 futurum sit. (12): una svffragio duas .... sicas destringcre. (35): ex coinmii- 
 nibus proprii ex fncosis jlrnii. Note especially the effort of sustained antithesis and 
 balance in the following example (48): 
 
 id si proraittas, ct incertum est et in diem ct in ijaucioribus ; 
 sin autem neges et certe abalienes et statim et pluris. 
 .... Qiiaro satius est ex his (iliijiios aliquando in foro 
 tibi U'asci qiiam omnis continuo domi. 
 
 " For the subject in prener.'xl c/. such expressions as tlie ovini dimissa divisione. Examples of a threefold diTision; 
 
 following 3, 3: Aoc Ccs(/ua (iiityenicr firristf, 5, 7; Triaritis 1,10;2,11; 5,4;G,10. 
 
 80
 
 Geokge Lincoln Hendkickson 10 
 
 But tho feature of style which I would illustrate here especially is one to which, 
 so far as I am aware, attention has not hitherto been called — the rhythmical structure 
 of the treatise. The forms of rhythmical clausulae which it contains are essentially 
 the same ones as are found in the orations of Cicero and in such a letter as the first ad 
 Qiiiiitum fratrem : the dichoreus {competitor), cretic and spondee (competitor es), double 
 cretio {competitorihus). Further variety is afforded by several other forms which are 
 related to these by the resolution of long syllables, or the substitution of long for short 
 syllables. Thus a spondee may take the place of a trochee ( — | - - num virtute); 
 a cretic may be constructed with an irrational long in the second place — especially 
 
 the first of a sequence of two cretics ( | — - sicds dcstringere) ; either long of 
 
 the cretic may be resolved (---"■' | - - esse rideare, or ~~-' ~ - | - ~ genera cognoscns) 
 and I have noticed one instance where both are resolved (-"■' - -"•' | - - facere vidcare 
 in 25, balanced by esse videare). In a few cases even the irrational second syllable of 
 
 the cretic is resolved (- -- - | — ■ - Yivomittere nan possumiis). In the form | 
 
 - -, the first syllable of the last foot is frequently resolved (- " - | -"' - Kxt nihil 
 
 valeat). Another form which is apparently a recognized clausule is ~ [nidlnm 
 
 fore^ though concerning its rhythmical interpretation I am in doubt. Of more com- 
 plex forms note especially the dichoreus preceded by a cretic (~ " ~ \ — ~ "^ liheros 
 const uprar it). 
 
 These rhythmical clausules are found with great regularity at the end of periods ; 
 they are usually found also at the conclusion of the separate KwXa which make up the 
 periods, and sometimes even in such smaller divisions as may be designated Kofifxara. 
 They follow the usual rules of Latin verse in respect to syllaba unceps and elision. A 
 typical illustration is afforded by the opening sentence of the treatise, which I here 
 transcribe : 
 
 Etsi tibi omnia suppetunt ea quae consequi ingenio aut usu homines aut inieWigentia pos- 
 
 sunt ( \ ) 
 
 tameu amore nostro non sum alienum arbitratus {-' j - ' ) 
 
 ad te perscribere ea quae mihi veniebaut in mentem 
 
 dies ac noctes de petitione tua cogitanti ( | ^) 
 
 non ut aliquid ex his novi addisceres (- - - | - -^ -) 
 
 sed ut ea quae in re dispersa atque infinita viderentur esse {~ " ~ \ — — ) 
 
 ratione et distributione sub uuo aspectu ponerentur ( | - - - ~). 
 
 An example in which the rhythmical clausule is used even in short Ko/x/xara is 
 afforded by section 1(3: 
 
 qiiisquis est enim 
 qui ostendat aliquid in te voluntatis {~ ^ ~ | ~ ~) 
 
 qxd colat ( ) 
 
 qui domum ve.ntitet (- - - | - - -) 
 
 is in amicorum numero est liabendus (- - - -). 
 
 But my purpose is not so much to show that the author of the Commentariolum 
 uses the rhythmic clausule, as to point out certain more striking examples of its use, 
 
 87
 
 20 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 in which it is the instrument of a conscious and artiticial rhetoric. First a few 
 examples to sliow the extremes to which the author goes in the employment of rhyth- 
 mical language. The treatment of the theme proper begins in sec. 2 with the follow- 
 ing wholly rhythmical sentence: 
 
 civitas quae sit (~ ^ ~ | ~ ~) 
 
 cogita ( ) 
 
 quid petas qui sis (~ " ~ | — ) 
 
 The same ideas are presented in chiastic order a moment later in the almost equally 
 rhythmical form: 
 
 nevus sum consulatum peto Roma est {- ^ ~ | - - - | — ). 
 
 The conclusion of the treatise is marked by a sentence of equally extreme and artificial 
 rhythmical character: 
 
 quare si ad\'igilamus 7J?'o rei dignitate ( | - ^ ) 
 
 et si nostros ad siimmum stadium benivolos e.rcitamus (""'' — !"""") 
 
 et si homiaibus studiosis nostri suum cuique miinus discribiynus ( | -) 
 
 et si competitoribus iudicimn proponinnts (""■' I ~ ^ ~) * 
 
 sequestribifs metum inicimus (~ " ~ | """ ~) 
 divisores ratione aliqua cocrcemus ( I ~ ~) 
 
 perfici potest ut \axgitio nulla sit (- - - | - - =) 
 
 aut nihil valeat ( — ^ - | """' -). 
 
 In view of these examples I suspect that one or two other passages were written to 
 attain a conscious rhythmical effect, as, for instance, 26: 
 
 modo ut intellegat .... fore 
 
 ex eo non breveni et suffragatoriam (~"~| ] | ) 
 
 sed firmam et perpetuam amicitiam ( — | — | w-_ - _ j -~- s:^ 
 
 Is it too fanciful to see in the rapid movement of the cretics the fleeting character of 
 a campaign friendship, and in the slow movement of the spondees the stable friend- 
 ship which is urged ? Observe also the vivid rhetoric of the following (10): 
 
 quid ego nunc tibi de Africa (~ " ~ | ) 
 
 quid de testium diet is scribanif ( I ~ ~) 
 
 nota sunt et ea tu saepius legito (- - - j -~- - - | I "'"■' ")• 
 
 Of balanced clauses with or without assonance and with identical rhythmical clausule 
 there are many examples. Some of the most noteworthy are these (8): 
 
 in petitione autem consulatus Cappadoces homines compilare ( ) 
 
 per turpissimam legationem mahiit quam adesse et popido Romano supplicare (- ^ — ). 
 (10): qui ex curia Cm'ios et Annios, ab atriis Sapalas et Carvilios, exequestri ordiuePompi- 
 lios et Vettiossibi amici.s.s//ftos compararit (~ " ~ | ~ ' — "); qui tantum habet audaciae 
 tan turn nequitiae, tantum denique in libidine art is et efBcacitatis ut prope in pareutum 
 
 gremiis praetextatos liberos constuprarit (~ " ~ | "). 
 
 88
 
 George Lincoln Henukickson 21 
 
 (In this passage, as in many of tlio preceding examples, the clausule form, consist- 
 ing of a dichorous preceded by a cretic, is noteworthy.) The following examjde is 
 remarkable for the use of elision to secure assonance between the membei'S of an 
 antithesis (2): 
 
 non potest qui 
 
 digims habctur patrouus confmlari-{- - - -) 
 um iudignus cousuhitft putari (- - - -). 
 
 In the following case similar rhythm enforces the effect of a pointed word-play (12) : 
 
 non difficile certamen erit cum eis competitoribus qui nequaquam sunt 
 tavi genere insignes (-•'-- | - -) 
 quani vitiis nobiles (-■'-- | -■'-). 
 
 Of simple balance with identical clausule, but without assonance or particular rhetori- 
 cal artifice, there are many examples. In conclusion, a few instances where the 
 natural order of the words is violated, apparently to produce the desired clausule (33) : 
 
 multo euim facilius ilia adulescentulorum ad amicitiam aetas adiungitur (~ ^ ~ | — ~). 
 
 Similarly in 57, for the sake of the cretic before the dichoreus, we have: 
 
 si nostros ad summum studiuin benivolos excitanius (-"-- - - | - ^ - -) 
 
 where Bticheler, partly because of the substantival use of bcnivolus and partly because 
 of the unusual order, brackets bciiicolos as spurious, and is followed by Miiller. But 
 see below, p. 22. In many cases, even though the word order is natural enough, it is 
 probable that regard for a certain clausule has determined the arrangement. For 
 example 1 : 
 
 non ut aliquid ex his novi addisceres (to produce I ~ ^ ")> 
 
 and 17: 
 
 omnis sermo .... a domesticis emanat auctoribus (to yield I ~ ^ ")• 
 
 TEXT 
 
 The oldest and best manuscripts containing the Commcntariolum , which have 
 thus far been discovered, are two: E (Erfurtensis, now Berolinensis No. 252) of the 
 end of the eleventh or of the early twelfth century (Bticheler, p. 11), and H (Har- 
 leianus No. 2682) of the latter part of the eleventh century (E. Maunde Thompson). 
 Both manuscripts contain miscellaneous works of Cicero and, for the question of 
 authenticity, it may be of some significance that in both the Commentariolum follows 
 the pseudo- Ciceronian epistle ad Octavianum, at the end of the collection of letters. 
 But that is a question which must be left to the historian of the text of Cicero's letters. 
 For the Commciifarioluiu E was first employed as representing the purest source of 
 the text by Bticheler in his edition of 18G8. The value of H for this treatise was 
 pointed out by Baehrens, who published a careful collation of the text in his MisceU 
 
 89
 
 22 The Commentabiolum Petitionis Attributed to Q Cicero 
 
 lanea Crifica (Groningen, 1879). The edition of Miiller (Leipzig, 1898) was the 
 first to present a text based upon these two sources: it has now been followed by 
 that of Purser (Oxford, 1902). The problem of relationship between the texts offered 
 by these two manuscripts is one which can only be solved by a study of the affinities 
 of the two codices as a whole. Some remarks on this point will be found in Colla- 
 tions from the Harlcian 3IS. of Cicero 2682, by A. C. Clark (Oxford, 1892), on pp. 
 xiv-xvi. I have examined both manuscripts myself without, however, finding anything 
 of importance to correct in the collations of Biicheler and Baehrens, except in a single 
 instance, which will be noted below. 
 
 Before taking up the passages in which I shall endeavor to emend the text, I 
 would note briefly that in a few instances the readings of our manuscripts are defended 
 against proposed deletions by the rhythmical laws which have been set forth in the 
 preceding section. So, for example, Biicheler edits in 
 
 12: qui jiequaquam su7it tarn genere [insiynes^ qiiam vitiis nohiles. But the 
 soundness of our text is fully vindicated by the presence of the rhythmical balance 
 which was pointed out above p. 21. Similarly Biicheler (whom Miiller and Purser 
 follow) edits in 
 
 57: si nostras ad summum sfiidium [bentvolos^ excitamns. But we have seen 
 above (p. 21) that the sequence of clausules in the series of sentences beginning with 
 Si, demands the (resolved) cretic betti voles before the double trochee excitamus. In 
 view of these cases I hesitate to follow Biicheler (and MuUer) in 
 
 1: etsi .... suppetunt ea quae consequi ingenio aid usu homines [aut intelli- 
 gentia^ jiossunt. For although the clausula - >- - - | - - (^usu homines 2}ossunt) 
 is found, yet of vastly more frequent occurrence is the form - ^ - | — (intelli- 
 gentia possunt). 
 
 The author begins with the resources which will be of assistance to Cicero as a 
 novns homo. In sec. 3 he enumerates the classes of men whom Cicero already has, 
 and among them studio dicendi conciliatos pilii^'imos adulesceidulos. These are to be 
 confirmed in their allegiance. To be won over to his support are homilies nohiles, 
 especially those of consular rank, and young men of noble family. 
 
 6: _29rat'/(!?'t'a adolescentes nobiles elabora ut habeas vel ut teneas studiosos. quos 
 habes multum dignitatis afferent. Most editors (and so Miiller) omit the period after 
 studiosos, and punctuate after habes. The words vel ut teneas ai-e, I believe, corrupt, 
 for as an alternative to ut habeas they are inept, if not meaningless, since the adoles- 
 centes nobiles cannot be held {teneas) until they are won (habeas). But Cicero 
 already has a constituency of young men, studio dicendi conciliatos (3). Now the 
 adolescentes nobiles are to be won to the same allegiance as those whom he already 
 has. I read, therefore: praeterea adolesceides nobiles elabora id habeas, VELUT 
 tenes studiosos quos liabes. 
 
 In this connection I would take up a very difficult and corrupt passage in 33. 
 To understand it aright it is necessary to go back to 29, iu which the necessity of 
 
 90
 
 Georgk Lincoln Henduickson 23 
 
 Cicero's strengthening his position by vfiried friendships is set forth. The matter is 
 taken up in a jxirfitio as follows: ■primiim (29), dcindc (HO), jwstra (30); whereupon 
 follows the passage in question in 
 
 83: lam equitum centuriae multo facilius mihi diligentia posse teneri videntur. 
 primum cognosce equites, p)(iuci enim sunt, deinde appcte .... dcinde hahes tecum 
 ex nivcntute optimum quemque et studiosissimum hnmanilutis; turn antcm quod 
 equcsier ordo tiiiis est, seqventur illi auctoritatem ordiiiis, si abs te adhibebitur en 
 diligentia, ut non ordiiiis solum rohmtcde sed etiam singulorum amicitiis eas centurias 
 confirmcdas habeas. Accepting the corrections which H afPords, incorporated in Muller's 
 text as here given, the remaining difficulties of this passage consist, first, in the appar- 
 ent absence of a concluding member to the partitio and, secondly, in the obscurity of 
 reference in (7//. This word would seem to refer to the young men mentioned just 
 before (optimum quemque, etc.). But if that is the meaning, it is remarkable that at 
 one moment Cicero is said to hold the allegiance of a certain class, and in the next that 
 the same class should be referred to as one that will follow the authority of the 
 equites in support of him, provided sufficient care is exercised. The equites are 
 already Cicero's friends (cf. 3) ; with care their loyalty is assured (diligentia posse 
 teneri). They are therefore disposed of briefly. Now in the enumeration above 
 referred to we had the divisions primum, deinde, postea, iam. But last of all and as 
 a class distinguished from the equites '' appear the adolesceutcs. Deinde I would there- 
 fore change to denique, introducing the concluding member of the partitio. In this 
 class are to be taken up tirst those adolescentes whom Cicero already has, viz., optimum 
 quemque et studiosissimum huinanitatis (the studio diccndi conciliatos of 3). But 
 just as in sees. 3 and 6 the adolescentes were, as we saw, of two kinds, so also here. 
 For apart from the young men who are attracted to Cicero by oratorical pursuits, there 
 are o//tcrs, for whom another motive to allegiance must be provided — the authority 
 and example of the ordo equesfer. I would read therefore : denique hahes tecum ex 
 iuventute optimum quemque et studiosissimum humanitatis. tum autem quod equester 
 ordo tuus est sequentur alii aucioritatem ordinis, etc. For the form of expression 
 optimum quemque .... alii, cf. de Officiis, I, 9U. 
 
 9: educatus in soi-oris stupris. The passage is thus edited in all the tests, and 
 according to Biicheler's apparatus (ex silentio) is the reading of E. But E reads 
 without variant sororum, which is confirmed by H, reading sorore, with correction by 
 the original hand to sororum, which should therefore be restored to the text. 
 
 18: hos tn homines quibuscumque poteris rcdionibus, ut ex animo atque ex ilia 
 summa voluntcde tut studiosi sint elaborato. H reads ex illo, Meyncke conjectured 
 ex intuma voluntcde. Ilia is defended rather ingeniously than convincingly by Tyrrell 
 ad loc. It would seem that critics have overlooked a very simple correction here, 
 unless the formulary character of summa voluntate seemed to forbid change. I would 
 
 15 On this distinction (which is also mado in 3 and C) and the correctness of it, cf. Momu3EN, B6m. Staatsrecht, 
 Vol. Ill, p. 484 and note. 
 
 91
 
 24 The Commentariolum Petitionis Attributed to Q. Cicero 
 
 read maxuma (spelled masuma, thus giving rise to ilia siimma) voluntate. Cicero 
 affords at least one example of maxuma voluntate [Verr., II, 2, 51), and probably 
 there are others. 
 
 23: Tertium illiid genus est stiidiorum voluniarium. Biicheler makes a readable 
 text by bracketing studiorum, and is followed by Muller and Purser. Eussner (Tyrrell 
 and others) correct to studiosum roluntariumque. The passage is the third member of 
 a por/Z/fo outlined in 21, to which t7?(((i refers: tribus rebus homines ducuntur . . . . 
 beneficio, spe, adiunctione auinii ac voluntate. These members are then taken up singly 
 — benejiciis (21), spe (22), and so to the passage in hand. It will be observed that the 
 reason for loyalty in each case is derived from a source named, which fails for the third 
 member. Methodical correction should not, therefore, make the source co-ordinate 
 with the end as in Eussner's reading — studiosum (the end) voluntariumque (source). 
 We require rather: tertium illud genus est studiosum voluntate, the correctness of 
 which is revealed by the words which follow: quod .... signijicanda erga illos 
 pari voluntate .... confirmari oportebit, where piari points back to the preceding 
 voluntate. Cf. de Inv., II, 16G : amicHia (est) voluntas erga aliquem .... cum 
 eius pari voluntate. 
 
 24: Hos ut inter nos calumniatores spr. The L group restores the thought with 
 has ut internoscas videto ne spe. Bticheler reads elaborato. What imperative stood 
 here it is impossible to say with certainty, but from the group of letters — umni — in 
 calumniatores vfe may restore confidently omnis {cf. umeris from umnis, the reading 
 of H for omnis in 48). We shall not be far from the truth for the whole passage in 
 reading: Hos ut internoscas omnis curato ne spe, etc. Omnis is appropriately used 
 in a summary following the enumeration of various classes (cf. 19 extr., and 23 extr.). 
 
 38: nee aliud ullum tempus futurumst xit tibi referre gratiam possint. Biicheler, 
 in the critical apparatus says against the lemma 7tt: "« cum superscripta /, non ubi 
 vocis compendium." But according to Baehrens ubi is the reading of H, and reference 
 to Prou, Manuel de PaUographie (2d ed., 1S92), p. 335, will show that the compen- 
 dium which Biicheler here describes (but the superscribed letter is not of course /) 
 stands regularly for iibi. The matter has seemed worth mentioning, because here, as 
 in a number of other cases where Miiller has followed Biicheler, there is discernible a 
 tendency toward the establishment of a vulgatetext. But Purser reads correctly %dii. 
 
 41: Dicendum est de ilia altera jmrte petitionis quae inpopulavi rationo versa- 
 tur. ea desiderat nomenclationem, blanditiam, assiduifatem, bcnignitatem, rumorem, 
 spem in re publica. H reads spem in rem p)ublicam; I 50, speciem in re publica. 
 The interpretation of the phrase spem in re publica seems to me difficidt. There is 
 but one meaning the words can have — spem in re publica positam. But that surely 
 has little to do with the raiio jwpularis, with which the other requisites named are 
 concerned. Each one of these is considered in detail ; iiomenclatio (42) bland ilia, (42) 
 assiduitas (43) benignitas (44) rumor (50). Editors I presume have held that spem 
 in re publica is taken up in the partitio at 53: ahpic etiam in lute jiclilione maxime 
 
 92
 
 George Lincoln Hendkickson 25 
 
 videndum est ut spes ret publicae bona de te sit ct honesta opinio. But this is a 
 totally different thing from the spem in repuJiIica of 41, which ])roceecls from Cicero, 
 and can only moan Cicero's hope or confidence in the state, wliile sjm'S rei publicae 
 bona de te proceeds from the people, and refers to their confidence in him. Further- 
 more, if this passage were the concluding member of the pxirtitio, we should expect 
 some transitional word like denique or pKjstremo to introduce it, and not a formula 
 which points to something new — atque ctiam (cf. Seyffert, Schol. Lat., Vol. I, p. 22). 
 But in 52 (^init.) after long consideration of rumor the author writes: iMstremo tola 
 pclitiu cava lit pompae plena sit, ut illustris, ut splendida, ut iwpularis sit, ut habeat 
 sumnutm spcciem ac dignitatem. These words, I am convinced, give us the true con- 
 clusion of the partitio outlined in 41, as is indicated by postremo, and also by the 
 summarizing of the ratio popularis which is suggested by the last of the accumulated 
 adjectives ut popularis sit. They reveal also that I 50 (from whatever source) has 
 given at least a partially correct reading iu 41- — speciem in re 2>ublica; for it is some 
 such word of external demonstration or display that we require to correspond to the 
 others of the group — nomenchdio, blandifia, etc. In itself sjx'ciem in re publica 
 might conceivably stand as a satisfactory reading ; but since it occurs in the treatment 
 of the ratio popularis, it would seem to me that in re p)ublica is too general, if indeed 
 the political connotation of the word would be tolerable here at all. I conjecture, 
 therefore, speciem in publico, for which cf. Tacitus, Dial., G, 12 (where Ajier is 
 speaking of the rewards of the orator): iam vero qui toyatorum comitaius et eyressus! 
 quae in ^yublico species! 
 
 I would point out, finally, that sec. 53, to which I have alluded above (videndum 
 est ut spes rei p)ublicae bona de te sit), does not belong to the division of the work 
 devoted to the ratio p)opularis, but follows it (introduced by atque ctiam) as a con- 
 cluding section to the whole of the second main division consulatum peto. Accord- 
 ingly it takes into account not the j^opulus only, but all classes of citizens — senatus, 
 equites et viri boni, multitudo. 
 
 93
 
 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF 
 
 CHICAGO
 
 A SKETCH OF THE LINGUISTIC CONDITIONS OF CHICAGO 
 
 Carl Darling Buck 
 
 The liugiiistic conditions in some of our largest American cities are unique in the 
 history of the world — an unparalleled babel of foreign tongues, yet undergoing absorp- 
 tion so rapidly and so naturally that the " language question," which looms up so large 
 in the contemporary history of many European states, does not exist for us as a dis- 
 turbing j^roblem. 
 
 I say "unparalleled babel" with all due regard to the claims of Constantinople, 
 Cairo, and other cities of the Orient, past and present. In Constantinople, with the 
 heterogeneous constituency of the army and the harem, augmented by the ranks of 
 European officials and visitors, the number of languages represented may on occasions 
 be as great as in New York or Chicago. But it must be remembered that only a few of 
 these languages are spoken by large bodies of the population, whereas in Chicago there 
 are some fourteen languages, besides English, each of which is spoken by 10,000 or 
 more persons. Newspapers appear regularly in ten languages, and church sei-vices 
 may be heard in about twenty languages. Chicago is the second largest Bohemian 
 city of the world, the third Swedish, the third Norwegian, the fourth Polish, the fifth 
 German (New York being the fourth). In all there are some forty foreign languages 
 spoken by numbers ranging from half a dozen to half a million, and aggregating over 
 one million. 
 
 A study of the language situation in Chicago, which in a general way is typical of 
 that in our other large cities, has two main points of interest. One is a phase of the 
 general problem of the linguistic consequences of race-mixture. What is the result, 
 as regards language, of the particular conditions of race-mixture that are exemplified 
 here? The other is the constituency of the foreign element. To know what languages 
 and groups of languages are represented here, and in what proportions, is a matter of 
 interest, not only to the philologist, but also to the historian and sociologist, for in 
 most cases linguistic divisions correspond to present racial divisions, and with a few 
 notable exceptions, like the Irish, language is the best available test of nationality. 
 
 In an article entitled "Language-Rivalry and Speech-Differentiation in the 
 Case of Race-Mixture,"' Professor Hempl has given a classification of the character- 
 istic types of race-mixture known to history, according to numbers, general conditions, 
 and attendant linguistic results. Of necessity the kind of race-mixture going on in 
 this country is put in a class by itself. The foreigners come in vast numbers, roughly 
 speaking half a million a year. In many cities they form with their descendants in 
 the first generation the majority of the population. Moreover, the diflPerent national- 
 ities in the cities are to a large degree locally segregated, and many of them many 
 
 1 Transactions of the American Philological Associatimi, Vol. XXIX, pp. 31 ff. 
 
 97
 
 4 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 almost exclusively within their own limits.^ Nevertheless the social and economic 
 conditions are such that all this has not the slightest effect on the supremacy of the 
 English language. Nor is it possible to produce tangible evidence of any permanent 
 effect on the character of the English. This easy victory of the established language 
 is doubtless assisted by the fact that the competition is divided. But even if all the 
 immigrants were of the same nationality, the absorption of their language would take 
 place no less certainly, only somewhat less rapidly. 
 
 Observation and inquiries among representatives of the different nationalities show- 
 that the j^rocess of absorption is substantially the same everywhere. The immigrants 
 themselves must and do learn more or less English, but it remains to them a foreign 
 tongue, acquired with all degrees of proficiency according to the individual's age at 
 arrival, length of residence, occupation, and general intelligence. 
 
 The second generation is bilingual. The children learn first their parents' mother- 
 tongue; but as soon as they are out on the street and in school they learn English, 
 and it is not long before they speak it by preference. Children the world over are 
 contemptuous of foreigners, and a boy does not care to add to his schoolmates' capa- 
 city for teasing by inviting epithets like "Dutchy," "Canuck," "Dago," or "Polak," 
 which are hurled about with no less freedom by those who are themselves of foreign 
 parentage, and not always with any nice discrimination between them. From this 
 period on English is the language most used, and it is a question of how far they also 
 retain a familiarity with their parents' mother-tongue. Some remain truly bilingual, 
 others speak their parents' language, but with some effort, and occasionally it happens 
 that grown-up sons and daughters cannot converse with their parents except in Eng- 
 lish. The third generation, even of unmixed foreign descent, generally knows only 
 English. This is true of the nationalities already represented in three generations, for 
 example the German, Polish, and Bohemian, and the result cannot be otherwise in the 
 case of the more recent classes of immigrants. If the stream of immigration were to 
 cease, it would only be a question of time when church services and newspapers in 
 foreign languages would be unknown. 
 
 There are of course exceptions to the general course of development as stated. 
 Some of the more well-to-do and intelligent families retain and hand down an interest 
 in the language and literature of the country of their origin through several genera- 
 tions. Or, again, if we look outside the cities, we find isolated colonies in various 
 parts of the country where a foreign tongue has been kept through several generations 
 and English but little used. Such, for example, are some of the Swedish farming 
 communities in the Northwest. There is said to be an old Polish colony in Texas where 
 the language has been spoken for generations and where even the negroes speak Polish. 
 The same conservatism may be looked for in some of the Finnish mining villages of 
 Michigan, the recent Russian colonics in the Dakotas, etc. But even for these condi- 
 
 2 For examijlc, according to the school cnn^-ns of isns, of Bohemian parents on both sides, while only T'.t^' had but 
 there were in Chicago 47,965 children born in this country one parent Bohomian. 
 
 'J8
 
 Carl Dakling Buck 5 
 
 tions it is unsafe to generalize. For example, while some of the older Norwegian 
 settlements have kept their language for several generations, th(! recent colonists in 
 North Dakota are "progressive;" that is, they ai'e Americanized with the same rapid- 
 ity as in the cities. 
 
 It is ix)ssible that, aside from conditions of environment, the rapidity of absorp- 
 tion differs somewhat among different nationalities, some having a greater tenacity 
 than others in the retention of their language. But ou this point it is difficult to 
 secure any tangible evidence. 
 
 The absorption of the various languages does not appear to be accompanied by 
 any permanent effects on the character of the English spoken. Except in isolated 
 communities, the speech of the second generation seldom betrays any foreign influence 
 either in pronunciation or in vocabulary. It is often a vulgar form of English, but 
 not diffei-ing from that of persons of native descent in the same social position. 
 
 There is, however, a marked influence exerted by the dominant English upon the 
 other languages as spoken here.^ The German of the German-American is full of 
 English words either unchanged or provided with German endings or prefixes, and of 
 English idioms clothed in German words, an interesting phase of which is the use of 
 German words in meanings adopted from the corresponding English words, as in the well- 
 known ich gleiche "I like," or ich eigne "I own." The Frenchman makes groceur of 
 grocer, couque of "cook," etc. In the Lithuanian quarter one sees painted in huge letters 
 on a blank wall the advertisement of didzicmsias departmentinis sztoras pietinej dalyj, 
 in which, equipped with antique endings and surrounded by formations which are the 
 pride and joy of philologists, we recognize the highly modern department store. 
 
 An exhaustive study of this phenomenon, interesting as it is, is not possible for 
 any one person. It demands a separate investigator for each language and one entirely 
 at home in the idioms of this language as well as in English.' But inquiries upon 
 this point among representatives of many nationalities leave no doubt in my mind 
 that substantially the same sort of mixture which is best known in the case of our 
 German- American exists in the other languages spoken here. 
 
 We turn now to the question of the constituency of the foreign speech-element 
 in Chicago, and in mentioning the various languages and peoples I shall add some 
 remarks on their representation in the country at large. Although some of these facts 
 are so easily accessible as perhaps scarcely to deserve repetition, others, for some of 
 the less-known nationalities, have been gained, incidentally to my inquiries regarding 
 local conditions, from private sources and will not be unwelcome additions.'' 
 
 3 With tte fact that the foreign languages spoken here ^ I have not touched upon the history of the immigra- 
 
 are influenced by English, but not English by them, com- tion from the various countries. For the older elements, 
 
 pare the remarks of Windisch, " Zur Theoric der Misch- German, Irish, Swedish, Norwegian, etc., the subject has 
 
 sprachen und LehnwOrter," Sttzuni/sbcrichte der siichs. been fully treated, but there is ample opportunity for 
 
 Gesell^ckaft der Wissenckaft, phil.-hist. Classe, 1897, pp. further work along similar lines. A history of Slavic im- 
 
 101 ff. migration would be of great value, and I am glad to learn 
 
 * Some of the forms of mixture have already been in- ^^'>-^ Professor Wiener has it in mind to gather materials 
 
 vestigated in detail, e. fif., the language of the Pennsylvania '**^ such a work. 
 Qermans, of the Portuguese in New England, etc. 
 
 99
 
 6 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 It may be thought that the Census Reports, with their elaborate statistics of 
 foreign population, covering, for the Censiis of 1900, 174 pages, render any further 
 investigation superfluous. This, however, is not the case. And, while acknowledging 
 my indebtedness to them in certain respects, I shall not hesitate to point out their 
 limitations. The most serious defect, and one which is fatal to the full realization of 
 the purposes of siich statistics, is the lack of any adequate system of classification. In 
 general, the classification is according to political divisions, but concessions are made 
 to certain nationalities which have no independent political existence at present. For 
 example, not to mention Ireland, Wales, Bohemia, etc., the Poles keep their identity 
 in the Reports, and even the Finns, relatively small as their numbers are, are given 
 a place. No one can question the propriety of such a recognition of nationalities not 
 politically distinct, only it must be carried much farther in order to give any proper 
 idea of the constituency of our foreign population, particularly of those elements 
 which form such an important part of the most recent immigration. The truth seems 
 to be that a system of classification which was once reasonably satisfactory has not 
 been sufficiently enlarged to meet the present conditions. 
 
 To give some examples. The Lithuanians, who in language and sentiment 
 foi-m a distinct people, and are represented by thousands of immigrants, are nowhere 
 mentioned.* In Chicago they were told by the enumerators that, there being no 
 provision for Lithuanians, they might be either Poles or Kussians. Whether in other 
 places they were classified under Poland or Russia, or both, it is impossible to say. 
 For the enumerators are not always so impartial in such cases, as may be illustrated by 
 the procedure reported to me by a Slovakian. There being no special provision for 
 Slovakians, of whom there are some ten thousand here in Chicago, not to speak of the 
 immense numbers in the Pennsylvania mining regions, one would naturally expect 
 them to be put under Hungary, to which they have belonged politically for more 
 than a thousand years. But in the case referred to, the enumerator, a German, was 
 not disposed to augment the number of Hungarians and so entered the Slovakian 
 under Austria. A Bohemian enumerator — and there may well have been such — would 
 undoubtedly have entered him as a Bohemian, and such a classification, though 
 eminently unsatisfactory to the Slovakian, would at least have more justification, since 
 the Slovakians and Bohemians arc most closely related. 
 
 The Croatians, of whom there are over one hundred thousand in the country, are 
 likewise unknown in the Reports, being entered under Austria. The same is true of 
 the less numerous Slovenians.' And, in general, it is clear that the figures given under 
 Austria and under Hungary have no real significance as they stand, though they are 
 used constantly in articles on labor and immigration problems. 
 
 *■' For tho school census of 189(), the innovation was made ' A Slovenian priest told mo that, finding ho could only 
 
 of classifying tho Lithuanians separately, and several be entered as an Austrian, he refused to make any return 
 
 Lithuanian enumerators were ai>i)ointcd. In 18UH tho as to nationality. If this is not an exagpcratod statement 
 
 separate classification was retained, but no Lithuanian of his attitude, ho was ono of thttso nocossitating the 
 
 enumerators appointed, and tho number droi>pcd from huadiug "Europe (not othurwiso specified)." 
 2,807 to 1,411, although, as a matter of fact, the) Lithuanians 
 Uud been pouring in constantly, as they have since then. 
 
 100
 
 Gael Darling Buck 
 
 There are now considerable numbers of Armenian and of Syrian immigrants, but 
 it is only by comparing outsider information as to their location in different parts of 
 the country with certain figures given in the Census under the heads of "Asia, except 
 China, Japan and India," and "Turkey," that one discovers that they form the chief 
 componeiats of these classes. Judging from the figures of Chicago and some other 
 cities, the Armenians seem to have been put under Turkey and the Syrians under 
 Asia, though it is not clear how consistently this distinction, the grounds for which 
 are not obvious, was maintained. 
 
 That many other nationalities, represented by very small numbers, such as the 
 Icelanders, Letts, Bulgarians, etc., should not be given a separate place in the classi- 
 fication, is less surprising, and perhaps unavoidable so long as only the roughest pic- 
 ture of the foreign element is aimed at.* 
 
 For those nationalities which are properly provided for in the classification the 
 figures are, of course, of great value, though far from infallible. In all the statistics 
 on foreign population there is inevitably a greater proportion of error than in the 
 Census as a whole. The newly arrived foreigner, ignorant and knowing yet but little 
 English, vaguely suspects the enumerator of being a constable or a spy, and thinks his 
 safest course is to give false answers. To get at the actual truth would require more 
 time, and, generally speaking, more intelligence, than the enumerators have at their 
 disposal. In the case of the statistics of foreign parentage one has to reckon also with 
 the deliberate falsehood of many who are so thoroughly Americanized as to regard 
 even foreign parentage as a taint which must be concealed. That there is a vast 
 amount of this misrepresentation is beyond any question. 
 
 For these reasons the independent estimates of intelligent repi'esentatives of the 
 different nationalities may often be nearer the truth than the Census figures, and for 
 the many nationalities about which, as explained above, the Census furnishes no infor- 
 mation, they are our only source. It is true that the disposition to exaggerate the 
 numbers of one's countrymen is often apparent, but this may be largely counteracted 
 by securing several estimates and by inquiring somewhat closely into the basis of 
 them. And in general it may be said that, through various sources, such as the vot- 
 ing lists, the membership of their churches, the subscription lists of their newspapers, 
 and the enrolment in their societies, which flourish in astounding numbers among the 
 foreign population, the leading men of the various nationalities have a pretty accurate 
 
 8 But there is no reason why the machinery of the Cen- to loss than one hundred and fifty items), the language 
 
 SUB should not be employed to secure the necessary lin- census, forming part of the general Census, has more than 
 
 guistic data for a fairly complete representation of the succeeded in its modest object of getting " a photograph, 
 
 foreign element and its distribution— such data as are col- as it were, of the existing distribution of language in India, 
 
 lectcd by various European governments, e. ff., in Austro- from the popular standpoint, which might to some extent 
 
 Hungary, where the statistics for the various elements in guide the more leisurely and comprehensive researches of 
 
 the population are based entirely on the linguistic test, or competent specialists " (Raines, " The Language Census of 
 
 in Great Britain, where statistics are gathered for the lin- India," Transactions of the Kinth Oriental Congress). Only 
 
 guistic conditions in Ireland, Wales, etc. In India, where experience will show in just what form the best results 
 
 matters are infinitely more complicated than here (the are to be obtained, but it is hoped that with the recent 
 
 names of languages returned numbered many hundreds establishment of the Census Bureau some progress will be 
 
 and even after sifting and classification were not reduced made along this line. 
 
 101
 
 8 A Sketch of the Lixguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 idea of the numbers of their countrymen." I have taken, as fairly indicative of the 
 linguistic representation, the figures which include the second generation of unmixed 
 foreign parentage, that is, in the case of the Census Reports, Tables 54, 55, 59, 
 and 60, which cover "persons having both parents born in a specified country."'" 
 For it may be assumed that the number of those of the second generation not speak- 
 ing (in addition to English) the language of their parents is offset by the number of 
 those of the third generation who do speak the language of their parents and grand- 
 parents. At best, the figures given are only approximate and intended merely to 
 give a picture of the relative strength of the various elements. 
 
 In the following survey, the language-families, their principal subdivisions, and the 
 languages in each are given in the order of their relative numerical strength in Chi- 
 cago. I have not thought it worth while to differentiate further and to attempt to 
 show the representation of the dialects of each language. In the case of languages 
 spoken by large numbers, such as German, Swedish, Polish, etc., one may be reasona- 
 bly certain that all the dialects are represented." 
 
 There is, however, as every student of language knows, no objective, purely lin- 
 guistic, criterion of language versus dialect, some languages differing from one another 
 far less than many dialects ; and our choice of terms depends upon considerations geo- 
 graphical and historical as well as linguistic. I have intended simply to follow ordinary 
 usage in this matter, though in some few cases the procedure will need some comment. 
 
 That the picture of the linguistic elements of Chicago's population is complete I 
 should not venture to hope. It is highly probable that there are several languages, 
 spoken by a few individuals, which have escaped my notice. And of the languages 
 mentioned, the part played by each could be described with greater elaboration. But 
 even this sketch will, it is hoped, prove of sufficient interest and value to repay the 
 very considerable expenditure of time involved in gathering the materials. 
 
 INDO-EUROPEAN 
 GERMANIC 
 
 WEST GERMANIC 
 
 English. — English is of course spoken by nearly the whole population. 
 German. — German is spoken, it is safe to say, by more than half a million. The 
 Census figures of Table GO for Germany are 303,810, while the school census of 1898 
 
 ^Tho sources of my information arc far too numerous t" The table usually quoted is GO, which pives the num- 
 
 to mention in detail. I have talked with consular officials, bers of "white persons having both parents born in 
 
 priests, newspaper editors, and business men, and can specified country " for cities of over 25,000. 
 
 acknowledge their assistance oidy in this general way. I 11 To illustrate Chicago's possibilities as a linguistic 
 
 am, however, under special obligation to a former pmiil, hiboratory I may mention the fact that of the eleven 
 
 Mr. Marienburgcr, for assistance in securing information Lithuanian dialects spoken in the Russian province of 
 
 upon the linguistic conditions of the .Jewish population. Kovn.., according to the minute classifieation of Bara- 
 
 In noting the extent to which the differcMit languages are novski (see Leskikn, Idg. Fonrli. Anz., Vol. XIII, pp. 79 
 
 represented in the press I have derived much information ff j every one is represented hero, 
 from the Lord and Thomas Pocket Directory of the Ameri- 
 can Press, but in nearly all cases have corrected and aug- 
 mented this from private sources. 
 
 102
 
 Carl Darling Buck 
 
 gave 469,014. To these figures would have to be added a portion of those tabulated 
 under Austria, Hungary, Belgium, and Switzerland. Many leading Germans think 
 600,000 nearer the truth. Even at the conservative estimate of 500,000 German- 
 speaking persons, Chicago ranks as the fifth German city of the world, New York 
 being the fourth. 
 
 More than twenty German newspapers and periodicals are published here, includ- 
 ing such important dailies as the Stddts-Zcifnng, Frcie Prcssc, and Abend post. 
 
 As is well known, the German forms by far the largest element of our foreign 
 population, and is distributed over every state, though strongest in New York and 
 Illinois. The German papers in the country number between two and three hundred. 
 
 Yiddish". — Yiddish is spoken by upward of 50,000 persons. 
 
 There are two Yiddish dailies, the Daily Jewish Call and the Daily Jewish Courier, 
 and a Yiddish theater in which performances are given nightly. 
 
 New York is the great Yiddish center, containing over 200,000 Yiddish-speaking 
 Jews, and it is there that the leading Yiddish papers are published. 
 
 Dutch. — Dutch is spoken by about 35,000. The Census figures for those bom in 
 Holland (Table 35) are 18,555. No statistics for Holland are given under Table 60, 
 but to include the second generation it woiild be fair to double this number. And, 
 without knowledge of the Census returns, the Dutch estimate has been between thirty 
 and forty thousand. 
 
 There are two Dutch weeklies, De Nedcrlander and Onze Toekomst. 
 
 Chicago is the first city of the country in the number of its Dutch, Grand Rapids, 
 Mich., being second, and Paterson, N. J., third. Of the states, the Dutch element is 
 strongest in Michigan, where, besides the large numbers in Grand Rapids, there are 
 several towns almost purely Dutch, including one called " Holland," the seat of Hope 
 College. Of the fifteen Dutch papers in the country, nine are published in Michigan. 
 
 Flemish.'^ — Flemish is spoken by upward of 1,000, possibly by 2,000 persons. 
 
 The largest Flemish population is in Wisconsin, and two Flemish weeklies appear 
 in DePere, Wis., De Volksstem and Onze Standaard. 
 
 Frisian.^^ — Frisian is spoken by some 2,000 persons from the Dutch province of 
 Friesland. 
 
 1= I mention Yiddish at this point for the reason that its But this is called Flemish, not Dutch, and for convenience 
 principal component is a form of High German which for we have kept the distinction, meaningless as it is from the 
 several centuries has been isolated from the literary Ian- purely linguistic point of view. The two papers mentioned 
 guage of Germany and pursued its own deve.opment. That are classed as Flemish simply because they are Catholic 
 I do not ignore it like other German dialects (see p. 8), but and appeal mainly to the Flemish population, 
 treat it as a distinct language, is due not merely to the h Qf all the Germanic languages and dialects of the 
 strong admixture of Slavic and Hebrew words (together, continent Frisian is the one most closely related to Eng- 
 according to Wiener, about 30 per cent.), but also to the ij^jj^ ^qJ forms with it the Anglo-Frisian branch of West- 
 fact that it has come to be regarded by the Jews in Slavic Germanic, in contrast to German (High and Low) and 
 countries as their own distinctive language, and boasts a Dutch. Its distinction from Dutch is then, unlike that 
 literature of no mean value. between Flemish and Dutch, fundamental. Frisian is 
 
 "The dialects of the Germanic-speaking portion of used to a limited extent as a literary language and Frisian 
 
 Belgium are closely related to and co-ordinate with the newspapers are published in Leeuwarden. This is properly 
 
 Dutch dialects of Holland, and the literary language, West-Frisian. It is probable that among the immigrants 
 
 which since the "Flemish movement " has gradually dis- from Germany there are some from the coast of Holstein, 
 
 placed French, is the same as the Dutch literary language. where North-Frisian is spoken. 
 
 103
 
 10 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 In general, Frisians are found wherever there are other immigrants from Hol- 
 land in large numbers, so that their centers are the same as those of the Dutch. 
 There is no Frisian paper published in this country. 
 
 north GERMANIC OR SCANDINAVIAN 
 
 Swedish. — Swedish is spoken by ujiward of 100,000. The Census figures of 
 Table 60 are 95,878, while the school census of 181)8 gave 109,755. The Swedish 
 estimate is 115,000. Ten Swedish papers are published here, the most important 
 being the Svcnska Kuriren and the Svenska Tribiinen, both weeklies. 
 
 Chicago is the third Swedish city of the world and has more than twice as many 
 Swedes as any other city in the country. New York being second and Minneapolis 
 third. Of the states Minnesota has the largest Swedish population. 
 
 There are over fifty Swedish papers in the country. 
 
 Norwegian. — Norwegian"^ is spoken by some 50,000 persons. The Census 
 figures of Table 60 are 37,886, while the school census of 1898 gave 44,980. The 
 Norwegians regard 50,000 as a conservative estimate. 
 
 Seven Norwegian papers are published in the city, the Skandinaven, daily and 
 semi-weekly, being the leading Norwegian paper of the country. 
 
 Chicago is the third Norwegian city in the world and the first in this country, 
 Minneapolis being second, and New York third. Of the states, Minnesota contains 
 the greatest number of Norwegians, though North Dakota has the largest percentage 
 of Norwegians to the total population. 
 
 There are over sixty Norwegian and Danish papers in the country. 
 
 Danish.^'' — Danish is spoken by some 20,000 persons. The Census figures of 
 Table 60 are 15,185, those of the school census of 1898, 21,261. 
 
 There are two Danish papers, the Chicago-Posten and the Revyen, both weeklies. 
 
 Chicago is the first Danish city of the country. New York being second, Racine, 
 Wis., third, and Omaha, Neb., fourth. Of the states Iowa has the greatest number 
 of Danes. 
 
 Icelandic. — Icelandic is spoken by some 100 persons. 
 
 The principal Icelandic settlements in the United States are in North Dakota, 
 mostly in Pembina county, and in Minnesota, mostly in Lyon and Lincoln counties. 
 In these states there are several thousand Icelanders. There is also a colony of about 
 200 on Washington Island, Wisconsin, and a few Icelandic settlers are found in some 
 other states. 
 
 l&The Norwegian liter.iry lansuapro and cultivated tlie important Norwegian papers, tiiough read to some ex- 
 speech differs but slisiitly from tiieDanisli.and in fact is.iiis- teut Ijy Danes also, preserve ttieir specific Norwegian char- 
 torically considered, nothirigbut the importedDanish wiiich acter. Moreover, the real Norwegian of the dialects is 
 has prevailed since the Rcrformation, more or less colored radicallydifferent from Danish, belonging with Icelandic to 
 by the Norwegian dialects. But even in this literary Ian- the West-Scandinavian branch, while Danish belongs with 
 guage the Norwegian coloring is sutlicient to make it seem Swedish to the eastern grouj). So that it is justifiable to 
 to the Norwegians themselvcrs ,a lauguagc* distinct from the keep the Norwegian and Danish elements apart even from 
 Danish. And, while some churches and some newspapers a linguistic standi>oint. 
 published in this country are known as Danish-Norwegian, le ggg preceding footnote. 
 
 104
 
 Carl Darling Buck 11 
 
 A weekly paper, the Vinland, is published at Minneota, Minn. 
 The Icelaiulcrs are more numerous in Manitoba, and there are four Icelandic 
 papers," three published at Winniiieg and one at Gimli, in a district known as New 
 
 Iceland. 
 
 BALTO-SL.WIC 
 
 SLAVIC 
 
 Polish. — Polish is spoken by more than 100,000, possibly liy 150,000 persons. 
 The Census figures of Table (50 are 107,G69, while tiie school census of 1898 gave 
 96,463. But the opportunities for wrong classification are great in the case of the 
 Poles, and a conservative Polish estimate puts the number at 150,000. 
 
 There are about a dozen Polish papers in the city, including two dailies, the 
 Dziennik Chicagoski and the Dziennik Naradowy. 
 
 Chicago is probably the fourth Polish city of the world," and contains more than 
 twice as many Poles as any other city of the country. New York being second, fol- 
 lowed by Milwaukee and Buffalo. Of the states Illinois is first in its Polish popula- 
 tion, owing mainly to the numbers in Chicago, Pennsylvania coming second with its 
 large body of Poles throughout the mining regions. 
 
 There are between thirty and forty Polish papers in the country. 
 
 Bohemian. — Bohemian is spoken by about 90,000 persons. The Census, Table 
 60, gives 72,802, the school census of 1898, 88,581. 
 
 There are fifteen Bohemian papers in the city, including four dailies, the Scor- 
 nost, the Denni Hlasaiel, the j\"a?'Of/, and the Lidove Novinij. 
 
 Chicago is undoubtedly the second Bohemian city in the world, since Brunn is 
 about half German. It contains nearly three times as many Bohemians as any other city 
 in the country, Cleveland, O., being second and New York third. Of the states Illinois 
 is first, followed by Nebraska, where there is a large Bohemian farming population. 
 
 There are more than forty Bohemian papei-s in the country. 
 
 Slovakian." — Slovakian is spoken by about 10,000. 
 
 The Slovakian population is most numerous in Pennsylvania, particularly in Pitts- 
 burg and Allegheny. The states next in order, in the strength of their Slovakian 
 population, are Ohio, New York, New Jersey, and Illinois. 
 
 Eight Slovakian papers are published in the country, six of them in Pennsylvania, 
 one of the most important being the Amcrikuno Slovenske Novini/, a weekly published 
 in Pittsburg.'" 
 
 I'At Wiunipeg the Ldgbcrp, Hcimskringla, and Ha- viaus since the beginning of tho tenth century, when they 
 
 meiningen (this last a religious monthly) ; at Gimli the were conquered by tho Hungarians. Consequently they 
 
 Dagsskra. feel themselves a distinct people, do not wish to be identi- 
 
 is There is little doubt, I think, that it outranks Posen fied with tho Bohemians, and since the early part of the 
 
 with a population of 117,017. According to some Polish nineteenth century have used their own dialect as their 
 
 estimates it would outrank Vilna (154,532) and so be the literary language, instead of the Bohemian, 
 
 third Polish city of the world. 20 The others are Slovensky Dennik (daily), Pittsburg; 
 
 ■■- Slovakian is very closely related to Bohemian, in fact Slovak V Ainvrika, New York ; Bratitno. Wilkesbarre, Pa. ; 
 
 represents a dialect, or set of dialects, co-ordinate with .s'/ocejtsfca Frai'rfa, Freeland, Pa.; Jcdiwta. Scranton, Pa. ; 
 
 those of Bohemia and Moravia. But tho Slovakians have Viera. Cleveland, O. ; Slovenske Noviny. Hazleton, Pa. 
 been separated politically from tho Bohemians and Mora- 
 
 105
 
 12 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 Serbo-Croatian.'' — Croatian is spoken by some 10,000, from Croatia and the 
 Dalmatian coast. 
 
 There are two Croatian papers, the Chicago Sloboda and the Branik. 
 
 While no other city contains a larger number of Croatians (Pittsburg and Alle- 
 gheny together have about the same number), the great mass of the Croatian popula- 
 tion is in Pennsylvania, where there are about 38,000. The states next in order are 
 Illinois, California, Ohio, Montana." 
 
 There are in all seven Croatian papers, including two dailies, the Narodni List 
 in New York and the Hrvafska in Allegheny.'^ 
 
 Of "Servians"'* there are perhaps 100, of whom only about half a dozen are 
 from the kingdom of Servia, two or three from Montenegro, four or five from Bosnia, 
 and the rest from Herzegovina or Dalmatia. 
 
 So far as I have learned, there is nowhere in the country any considerable number 
 of immigrants from Servia proper, yet the Servian element is strong enough to make 
 possible the existence of five weekly newspapers calling themselves Servian.^^ Each 
 of these is printed partly in the Cyrillic and partly in the Latin alphabet. There are 
 said to be several hundred Montenegrins in California. 
 
 Eiissian. — Eussian is spoken by some 7,000, possibly as many as 10,000, nearly 
 all Jews. The Census figures for Russia, whether accurate or not, are of no value for 
 linguistic purposes; for they represent in large part Jews, only a small proportion of 
 whom speak Eussian as well as Yiddish. The American-born children even of those 
 •who are bilingual learn only Yiddish, so that the proportion of Eussian to Yiddish- 
 speaking is much less than among the Jews of Eussia. 
 
 There are probably not 100 genuine Eussians, that is. Great Eussians, in the city. 
 There are, however, several hundred Euthenians, perhaps about 500, who speak a Little 
 Eussian dialect. The Eussian church of Chicago is made up largely of Euthenians, 
 and service was for a time held in Little Eussian, now, however, in Great Eussian. 
 
 21 This embraces the speech of Servia, Bosnia, Herzego- on South Slavic literary and political movements, but 
 
 vina, Montenegro, the Austrian province of Dalmatia, and can hartUy be illustrated more picturesquely than by an 
 
 the Hungarian provinces of Croatia and Slavonia. incident related to me of three brothers from Ragusa, now 
 
 Throughout this territory is spoken a series of ck)scly re- living in South Chicago, who " threw knives at each other 
 
 lated dialects, the divisions between which do not coincide because one said he was a Croatian, the other that he was 
 
 with any political divisions. All these dialects are now a Servian, the third that he was a Dago." 
 
 represented by what is essentially the same literary Ian- In Bosnia, too, there is a Croatian as well as a Servian 
 
 guage, though appearing in two forms — the Servian in the "party," and the Austrian officials, to avoid offimding 
 
 east, written in the Cyrillic alphabet, and the Croatian in either, call the language neither Servian nor Croatian, but 
 
 the west, with Agram as the center of literary activity, "the vernacular " or " Bosnian." 
 
 written in the Latin alphabet. But a divergent political 22 A Croatian census, Po/iis Hrvata u Anierici, pub- 
 history and religious differences (the Servians belong to lished in Allegheny, furnishes carefully collected statistics 
 the Greek Church, the Croatians to the Roman) have pre- for all the Cr(>atian settlements in the country. It repre- 
 venled any genuine feeling of unity, and, in spite of the sents an undertaking which might well be imitated by 
 dicta of their scholars and literary leaders, the Croatians other nationalities. 
 
 and .Servians regard themselves as distinct peoples, each 23 Besides these two and the two Chicago papers, they 
 
 with its own language. The Dalmatians for the most part are: Napredak, Allegheny; Osa, New York; Uridti u 
 
 are to be grouped with the Croatians, but in the extreme Aiiwrici, Rankin, Pa. 
 
 south there is ;i mixture of Croatian and .Servian elements, -' See footnote 21. 
 
 further complicated by the Italian influence which has 2:. The liilo and the Srhi7i, Pittsburg, Pa.; Scrhska 
 
 been strong in Dalmatia from the earliest period. There- .SVihih, New York city ; Slotioda, San Francisco; Tlie Owl, 
 
 suiting conditions have been elaborately treated in works Pueblo. Col. 
 
 106
 
 Cakl Daeling Buck 13 
 
 In other parts of tli(^ country, too, the Russian language is represented mainly by 
 the Russian Jews, so that New York, wliidi contains by far tlie largest number of 
 these, is the largest Russian-speaking city of the country. 
 
 Aside from the Jews, the only considerable Russian colony is that of the Dou- 
 khobors in North Dakota. 
 
 Shvenian. — Slovenian, the Slavic language of the Austrian province of Carniola 
 and parts of Carinthia, Styria, and the coast land, is spoken by about 1,500 persons, 
 most of them from Carniola. 
 
 The principal Slovenian colonies are in Cleveland, Ohio, Joliet, 111., Pueblo, Col., 
 Red Jacket, Mich., in each of which there are several thousand. There are also consider- 
 able numbers in Pittsburg, Leadville, Col., and in several towns in Minnesota. 
 
 There are six Slovenian papers."" 
 
 Bulgarian. — Bulgarian is spoken by between 50 and 60 persons, about four-fifths 
 of whom are from Macedonia. 
 
 The next largest numbers are in Pittsburg and Philadelphia, there being about 
 35 in each, and about 100 in the whole state of Pennsylvania. There ai-e also between 
 30 and 40 in Ohio and Massachusetts, about 25 in New York, about 15 in Maryland, 
 New Jersey, Maine, Michigan, 10 in California, and still smaller numbers in several 
 other states. In all there are in the country between 500 and GOO, about four-fifths 
 of whom are Macedonians, chiefly from the district of Monastir, who have come here 
 within the last three or four years. Up to 1892 there were less than 100 Bulgarians 
 in the country, and nearly all these were students or professional men from Bulgaria 
 proper.'' 
 
 A small Bulgarian bi-monthly is published in Chicago, and has some 200 
 subscribers. 
 
 Wendish. — It is almost certain that among the immigrants from Germany there 
 are at least some individuals from the Wendish region about Cottbus and Bautzen, but 
 they are so thoroughly Germanized as to pass everywhere for Germans, and I have 
 not been able to learn definitely of any Wendish-sjjeaking persons. 
 
 There is a colony in Serbin, Tex., where church service is still held in Wendish. 
 
 BALTIC 
 
 Lithuanian. — Lithuanian is spoken by over 10,000 persons."' The vast majority 
 of them are from Russian territory, though there are also a few Prussian Lithuanians. 
 There are two Lithuanian weeklies, the Lietuva and the Kutalikas. 
 
 2^Nova Damovina^ Cleveland; Amerikanski Slovenec^ school census were of little value at tke time (see footnote 
 
 JoUot; Glas Naroda, New York; Glasnik, Red Jacket; 6) and the number has been rapidly increasing since 
 
 Jl/ir, Pueblo; J/osfcito, Cleveland. then. There are two very large Lithuanian Catholic con- 
 
 „, ^ „, a T, , ■ t ■ • . c lu /-.v gregations, not to speak of a small one in South Chicago, 
 
 2' Dr. Staneff, a Bulgarian physician of South Chicago, , ,, ^ ,, t i „ •„ ;„ ;,„ij ;„ „ <^„,.„,„ 
 
 . ^ , , ..,., ■,,,, , and the Lutherans, for whom a service is held in a (jerman 
 
 has taken unusual pains to furnish me with full and accu- , .,_ l l -r. ■ *i. * - *u^.,^«.,^ 
 
 ^ . , ^. , , ,, T, 1 ■ .t i_ ^ i._ Lutheran church. During the past year one thousand 
 
 rate information about the Bulgarians throughout the ^- ^ ^ c ^ ^ .-■ t /~<i ■ ^ u ^ * ♦^ !.,*-,•..«„ 
 
 " ^ tickets for transportation to Chicago, to be sent to relatives 
 
 coun ry. ^^^ friends in Lithuania, were sold in one office — that of 
 
 2«Tho editor of the Lietuva estimates 14,000, and I am the aforesaid editor, who to his editorial duties adds those 
 
 Dot sure that this is at all exaggerated. The figures of the of steamship agent and United States district postmaster. 
 
 107
 
 14 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions op Chicago 
 
 Pennsylvania has the largest Lithuanian population, followed by Illinois, New 
 York, Massachusetts, and Connecticut. There are in all six Lithuanian papers." 
 
 Lcttic. — There are about 300 Letts in the city, and also perhaps 200 Jews from 
 Lettic territory who can speak Lettic. 
 
 The number of Letts is about the same for Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, 
 while there are some 250 in San Francisco, 100 in Cleveland, Ohio, 100 in Lincoln 
 county. Wis., and smaller settlements in other places, making in all approximately 
 2,000 in the country. 
 
 A Lettic religious weekly, Amerikas Westnesis, is published in Boston.'" 
 
 ROMANCE 
 
 Italian. — Italian is spoken by over 25,000 jjersons. The Census figures. Table 
 60, are 26,043, those of the school census of 1898, 22,933. 
 
 Three Italian papers, two weeklies and one monthly, are published here, L'' Italia, 
 La Tribuna Ituliana, and L' America. 
 
 By far the largest Italian colony in the country is in New York city, where there 
 are over 200,000, and where ten of the thirty-five Italian papers in the country 
 are published. 
 
 French. — French is spoken by from 15,000 to 20,000 persons. The Census 
 figures, Table 60, are 4,498 French, 8,200 French Canadians, to which would be 
 added a portion of those enumerated under Belgium and Switzerland. On the basis 
 of these figures one would judge the French-speaking population to be about 17,000.^' 
 
 One French weekly is published here, Lc Courier de V Quest. 
 
 The largest niimber of immigrants from France is in New York city, but the French 
 Canadians are most numerous in the New England manufacturing cities. Fall River, 
 Lowell, Manchester, etc. Of some thirty-five French papers nearly half are 
 published in the New England states (eight in Massachusetts), but there are five in 
 California and five in Louisiana. 
 
 Spanish. — Spanish is spoken by perhaps 1,000 persons — Spaniards, Mexicans, 
 Central Americans, South Americans, and West Indians in about equal proportions. 
 The Census figures for persons born in these countries (Table 85), and not including 
 Cubans and Porto Ricans, amount to 641. 
 
 By far the largest Spanish-speaking population is in Texas. The Mexican 
 element is strong also in Arizona, New Mexico and California, while in Florida there 
 
 25 Besides the two Chicago papers mentioned there are : church officials on the basis of their parish lists estimate 
 
 SaulCy Mahoncy City, Pa. ; Vienybe Lictuvniku, Plymouth, the French-speakinR population at about 60,000, mado up 
 
 Pa.; .ZivHiyii/f, Brooklyn, N. y. ; Dirva, a quarterly publi- larprcly of French Canadians. I have already alliuU'd to 
 
 cation, Shenandoah, Pa. the well-known fact that many persons deny their foreign 
 
 ..^r... ,. r^ TT n 1 . T ii_ .. parentage and are enrolled as of native parentaKO. But it 
 
 30The editor, Rev. H. Rebane, is a Lutheran pastor : ,..,. ,, . . ,. ,, . .. t- u ,, ,■ j j 
 
 . , . „' . ^ , .•.,». r 1.. is didicnlt to beliovo that the French Canadians recorded 
 
 who resides in Boston, but pays rciTular visits to the Lettic • .. r. ti .i cr. u «»>. . 
 
 , m , . T - , . ^ , ,. .1 • in the Census represent less than ono-nfth of the true iium- 
 
 comniunities elsewhere. To him I am indebted for the in- , mi- • » .i . t i . ». j 
 
 , bcr. The (liscrepancy IS so j?reat that I hjive not ventured 
 
 formation given above. , . ^, u- u « .\ \ t- i • n 
 
 " to accept these higher figures, though not deuyiug the 
 
 ^ My colleague, Professor Ingres, tells mo that the possibility of their correctness. 
 
 108
 
 Carl Darling Buck 15 
 
 are large numbers from the West Indies. Apart from the Mexicans, New York has 
 the largest number of Spanish-speaking persons. All of the fifty-odd Spanish papers 
 of the country appear in the states named, there being twelve in New York city. 
 
 Roumaiiidii. — Roumanian is spoken by perhaps 2,000 lloumanian Jews. The 
 Census gives only 287 as born in Roumania, but they have been arriving in larger num- 
 bers within the last two years. Estimates of the number vary widely, some running 
 as high as 4,000. The number given is hardly more than a guess. 
 
 A large proportion of all the Roumanian Jews in the country is in New York 
 city. Aside from the Jews, I have not learned of any considerable number of Rou- 
 manians anywhere,'* and the Roumanian language seems to be represented almost 
 wholly by the Jews from Roumania, with some Gypsies who speak Roumanian. 
 
 Portuguese. — Portuguese is spoken by only a few dozen persons. The Census 
 gives 21 as born in Porttigal. 
 
 Most of the Portuguese population of the country is in Massachusetts and Cali- 
 fornia, in each of which there are over 12,000 born in Portugal. The five Portuguese 
 papers of the country appear in these states. 
 
 CELTIC 
 
 Irish. — Irish is spoken by ujiwards of 10,000 persons certainly, and probably by 
 as many as 15,000. The first number would be within the 1-4^ per cent, of the 
 73,912 born in Ireland (Census, Table 35), 14A being the percentage of the popula- 
 tion of Ireland which can speak Irish. But immigration is especially strong from 
 those counties in which Irish is most spoken, so that the percentage of Irish speakers 
 among the Irish-born of Chicago (and in general in this country) is without doubt 
 somewhat larger. Moreover, the revival of interest in the Irish language, fostered by 
 the Gaelic Leagiie, has had the result, unique '^ in the history of our foreign population, 
 that not a few adults have learned their native tongue for the first time in this country. 
 There are also some of the second generation who learn Irish at home or in the classes 
 of the Gaelic League. But this enthusiasm for the language, after all, affects but a 
 small proportion of the Irish population, and it would not be safe to assume any very 
 large additions to the number of those who spoke Irish when they came here. 
 
 Neither here nor elsewhere, even in Ireland, so far as I am aware, is there any 
 newspaper published entirely in Irish. But most of the papers devoted to Irish inter- 
 ests print, occasionally at least, addresses, poems, stories, etc., in the native language. 
 
 The number of Irish-s[)eaking persons is, of course, everywhere proportionate to 
 the total number of Irish, which is greatest in New York city, followed by Philadel- 
 phia, Chicago, and Boston. In the whole country there are probably about one-quar- 
 
 32A young Roumaniaa from Bessarabia whom I met in anian or Slovakian here. And I now recall that one of 
 
 Chicago did not linow of any other Roumanians in the city. the Lithuanian priests in Chicaj^o, who preaches regularly 
 
 33 Or almost unique. Professor Wiener tells me he has '° Lithuanian, told me ho learned it in this country. His 
 
 met some Lithuanians and some Slovakians who spoke father had spoken Lithuanian, but he himself only Polish 
 
 only Polish or Hungarian before coming to this country, and Russian. 
 but, joining their respective societies, have learned Lithu- 
 
 109
 
 16 A Sketch op the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 ter of a million of Irish-speaking persons, which is more than a third of the number in 
 Ireland. 
 
 Welsli. — Welsh is probably spoken by about 2,000 persons, the total Welsh 
 population here being 4,000 or 5,000. 
 
 More than a third of all the Welsh in the country are in the mining regions of 
 Pennsylvania, the states nest in order being Ohio and New York. There are three 
 Welsh papers, the most important being Y Drych, a weekly published at Utica, N. Y. 
 
 Scotch Gaelic. — The Scotch Gaelic, closely allied to the Irish, is spoken by per- 
 haps 500 persons. There are nearly 20,000 Scotch in the city, but, of course, only a 
 small number from the parts of Scotland where Gaelic is still spoken. 
 
 In Canada there are some p\u-e Gaelic settlements, where church services are still 
 held in Gaelic. One of these is in Gananoque, Ontario. 
 
 Manx. — Manx, also closely related to Irish, is spoken by perhaps 100 persons. 
 This is on the assumption that of the 400 or 500 Manxmen in the city, the proportion 
 of Manx-speaking persons is about the same as on the Isle of Man. Biit it may be 
 less, and a Manx informant has the idea that there are only a few dozen who can speak 
 Manx. 
 
 The principal Manx center is Cleveland, Ohio. Settlements in the neighborhood 
 of the city were made as early as 1827, and there are said to be now in the suburbs 
 and immediate vicinity as many as 8,000 of Manx birth or descent.'* There are also 
 considerable numbers of Manxmen in New Orleans, San Francisco, Rochester, and 
 Albany. 
 
 Breton. — The Breton or Armorican, spoken in Brittany and allied more closely 
 with the Welsh and the extinct Cornish than with the Irish, is represented by a few 
 dozen of the immigrants from France. 
 
 I have not learned of any distinctly Breton settlements in this country, and doubt 
 if there are any. But wherever there are French immigrants in large numbers, there 
 are certain to be some from Brittany, and it is safe to conclude, in the absence of more 
 specific evidence, that the largest number of Breton-speaking persons is in New York 
 city. 
 
 GREEK 
 
 Modern Greek. — Modern Greek is spoken by about 4,000, possibly by 5,000. 
 The Censiis, Table 35, gives only 1,4U3, and the school census of 1898 only 1,044 of 
 Greek birth. But the school census of 189(3 gave 3,711, and since then the number 
 is known to have increased.^ 
 
 Chicago has the largest Greek population of any city in the coimtry, followed by 
 
 3* A Cleveland lawyer of Manx descent, who has kindly earlier Manx settlements with anything like such rapidity 
 
 given rao the above information, has the imi>ression that as in the Isle of Man itself. 
 
 most of the generation born in this country are, like him- 36Tho discrepancy is probably to be accounted for by 
 
 self, bilingual, having learned M-iux as the lancuage of the the fact that at certain times a largo proportion of the 
 
 household. If this is true, it indicates that the proportion (Jreeks arc at work out of the city. 
 of those able to si>eak Manx has not diminished in our 
 
 110
 
 Cakl Darling Buck 17 
 
 Now York, Lowell, Boston, San Francisco, Philadelphia, Savannah, Pittsburg, Charles- 
 ton, New Orleans, in the ordtsr named. 
 
 There are two Greek newspapers, both published in New York, the 'KiXavrk and 
 the &epfioTrv\ai. 
 
 ALBANIAN 
 
 Albanian.^ Albanian, representing an independent branch of Indo-European 
 of which no other languages are extant, is spoken by perhaps one or two hundred of 
 the immigrants from Greece. 
 
 A large proportion of the Greeks come from the southern part of the Pelopon- 
 nesus, where there are very few Albanians, while from Attica, Bcjeotia, and other 
 parts where the Albanian element is strongest, the number of immigrants is much 
 smallei. 
 
 From Albania proper there are probably no representatives, nor, as far as I know, 
 from the Albanian towns of southern Italy. 
 
 In other parts of the country the distribution of the Albanian element will cor- 
 respond roughly to that of the Greek element. 
 
 ARMENIAN 
 
 Armenian. — Armenian, which, like Albanian, is the sole representative of an 
 independent branch of the Indo-European family, is spoken by some 125 persons. 
 
 Except for New York city, with 2,500, most of the Armenians are in the New 
 England cities. Worcester has 1,500, Boston 800, Providence 800, Lawrence 350, 
 Lynn 300, etc. 
 
 There are five Armenian papers, three of which are published in Boston, one in 
 Cambridge, and one in Fresno, Calif.* 
 
 INDOIRANIAN 
 
 Neither Persian nor any of the other modern Iranian languages is represented 
 here, as far as I have been able to learn. Nor do I know of any Hindus living here 
 at the present time. 
 
 Gypsy. — The Indie branch, however, is not entirely unrepresented, since there are 
 nearly always some Gypsies in the outskirts of the city or in the immediate vicinity. 
 And, as is well known, the Gyjisy language still retains a large element, which, in spite 
 of the accretions from other languages, clearly betrays its origin in India. In the 
 summer of 1001 there was here a large number of Gypsies recently arrived from Rou- 
 mania and Bessarabia, who spoke Roumanian and Russian as well as Gypsy. But most 
 of the Gypsies who frequent the city from year to year belong to a family which came 
 to this country, after living for some time in Bavaria, from Croatia, and call them- 
 selves Hungarian Gypsies. 
 
 ^(■The Hayrenik, the Gotschnag, and the Tzain Haireniatz, Boston: the Lo!/ce, Cambridge : T/te C/i/zen, Fresno, 
 California. 
 
 Ill
 
 18 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 FINNO-HUNGARIAN " 
 
 Hungarian. — The number of Hungarian-speaking persons is difficult to estimate 
 even roughly. There are about 1,000 Magyars in South Chicago, Pullman, and the 
 other manufacturing districts in the southern outskirts of the city. These, of course, 
 are entirely Hungarian in speech. Nearly all the Hungarians in the city proper, of 
 whom there are many thousands, are Jews, there being two Hungarian-Jewish churches. 
 Some of these are as thoroughly Hungarian in speech and in sentiment as the Magyars 
 themselves, but many, on the other hand, belong to our earliest class of immigrants 
 from Hungary and left at a time when German influence was predominant, so that 
 German rather than Hungarian is their mother-tongue, and their children, so far as 
 they learned anything but English, acquired German, not Hungarian. As to the 
 actual numbers of the Jews from Hungary, and their descendants, and the proportion 
 which speak Hungarian, I have received the most divergent opinions. It is safe to say 
 that Hungarian is spoken by 5,000, while some would place the number at several 
 times this. 
 
 Of the cities, New York has the largest Hungarian population, with Cleveland, O., 
 second. Of the states, Pennsylvania stands first, followed by New York and Ohio. 
 There are five Hungarian papers, three in New York and two in Cleveland.^ 
 
 Fiiuiish. — Finnish is spoken by about 500 persons. The center of the Finnish 
 population is in the Calumet mining regions of Michigan. Next to Michigan, with 
 18,910 Finnish bom, according to the Census, comes Minnesota, with about 10,000, fol- 
 lowed by Massachusetts with about 5,000. 
 
 There are fourteen Finnish papers, seven of them appearing in Michigan.^' 
 
 Esthonian. — There are said to be three Esthonian families in Chicago. New York 
 and San Francisco have each about 150 Esths, and altogether in the country there are 
 about 400.*° An Esthonian religious paper, Amerika Ecsti Postimces, is published 
 in Boston by the same editor as the Lettic paper. 
 
 SEMITIC 
 
 Arabic. — Arabic is spoken by the Syrians, numbering between 300 and 500. In 
 New York, which has the greatest number of Syrians, there are four papers published 
 in Arabic. No account is taken of Hebrew, which, however familiar in Jewish serv- 
 ices, is not actually a spoken language anywhere. 
 
 For Yiddish see above, p. 9. 
 
 3' While this is as definite a language family as Indo- 39 The Kristillisia Sa7iomia^ Makatma^ Snrtolainen^ 
 
 European or Semitic, its relationship with other families Heligteiis Vag, Brooklyn; Ntiistcn Lchti^Suomctar. Vuthet, 
 
 often grouped with it under the iicad of " Ural-Altaic " is TocliUistcn Juukkn, Cahimet, Mich.; Fahncti Sanomat, 
 
 tif a loss decisive character. Owing to this, and also to the RaiUiuttlehti, Hancock, Mich.; Kalava, Manistee, Mich.; 
 
 fact that outsifie of Finno-nuugarian the Turkish is tho C7it.si A'(>//ni(ia, New York Mills. Minn. ; .'l7»ienfca?i.S'a7iomaf, 
 
 only representative here of tho Ural-Altaic, I have ignored Asterbill Harbor, Ohio; Tfituim, Fitchburg, Mass. 
 
 this more general grouping, and simply mentioned Turkish 40Evon the Livonians of the northern extremity of 
 
 below, under "other languages." Courlnnd, relics of another Finnish people from which 
 
 i^Szahatlndfj mid Mti^yar Ilirmrnulf'}, Cleveland; Nt'ps- Livonia takes its name and numbering in ISSl only .I,!")!! in 
 
 zava, Amcrikai Ncmzctor, and I'iity-Valatty^ New York. all, are represented by a few families in Now York city. 
 
 112
 
 Carl Darling Buck 19 
 
 OTHER LANGUAGES 
 
 Chinese. — Chinese is spoken by between one and two thousand persons. 
 
 As is well known, the Chinese element is strongest in California and the other 
 Pacific states. In the East the greatest number is in New York. 
 
 There are two Chinese papers, one in New York, the other in San Francisco. 
 
 Japanese. — Japanese is spoken by less than a hundred persons. The Census gives 
 80 as born in Japan. 
 
 The Japanese are most numerous in California, Washington, Oregon, Montana, and 
 Idaho in the order named. 
 
 Turkish. — As far as I can learn, there are no Turks in the city at present, though 
 one or two remained stranded here for some years after the exposition of 1893. But 
 the Turkish language is not unrepresented, for the reason that nearly all the 
 Armenians, that is, all the male adults, speak Turkish in addition to their own lan- 
 guage. 
 
 There are probably very few Turks anywhere in the country, the language being 
 represented mainly by the Armenian population, which is almost exclusively from 
 Turkish Armenia. 
 
 Basque. — Basque is represented by a few individuals only. I have not learned of 
 any considerable number of Basques anywhere in the country.*' 
 
 The native Indian languages are almost wholly unrepresented. There is a resi- 
 dent physician who is a full-blooded Sioux, and occasionally a party of Indians is 
 brought here for a few months for commercial purposes. But practically the Indian 
 languages play no part in the linguistic conditions of the city. 
 
 I have not learned of any representations of the Malay-Polynesian group of 
 languages, though it is quite possible that there are a few Hawaiians or Samoans 
 engaged in business. The Census gives 46 as born in the Pacific Islands, but these are 
 probably of American parentage. 
 
 SUMMARY 
 
 The most notable characteristic of Chicago's foreign population is the strength of 
 the Scandinavian and Slavic elements. No other city in the country contains any- 
 thing like as many representatives of these groups. The Slavs number over a quarter 
 of a million, and of the large divisions which we have made above, Slavic comes next 
 to Germanic, a place which would be occupied by Romance in New York, Philadelphia, 
 or Boston. Taking the languages without regard to the classification previously fol- 
 lowed, the following are those of which Chicago furnishes the largest representation of 
 any city in the country: Polish, Swedish, Bohemian, Norwegian, Dutch, Danish, 
 Croatian, Slovakian, Lithuanian, and Greek. 
 
 <i I have talked with a Basque in Boston who came to elsewhere in the country, from which I infer that there are 
 this country some forty years ago with five others from the no Basque colonies of any size, though there are probably 
 same town, all now dead. He has no knowledge of Basques a few individuals of this race in most of the larger cities. 
 
 113
 
 20 
 
 A Sketch of the Linguistic Conditions of Chicago 
 
 In the following table the languages are given in the order of their numerical 
 strength in Chicago, so far as this can be determined. As explained before, the num- 
 bers are only approximate. The asterisks indicate those languages, already named, 
 which are spoken by greater numbers in Chicago than in other cities of this country : 
 
 German - 
 
 * PoHsh - 
 
 * Swedish 
 
 * Bohemian 
 
 * Norwearian 
 
 about 
 
 500,000 
 
 125,000 
 
 100,000 
 
 90,000 
 
 50,000 
 
 Yiddish ------ 50.000 
 
 35,000 
 
 - 25,000 
 20,000 
 
 - 15,000 
 10,000 
 
 - 10,000 
 10,000 
 
 - 10,000 
 7,000 
 5,000 
 4,000 
 
 * Dutch - 
 Italian 
 
 * Danish 
 French 
 Irish 
 
 * Croatian and Servian 
 
 * Slovakiau 
 
 * Lithuanian 
 Russian - 
 Hungarian 
 
 * Greek - 
 Frisian 
 Roiunauian 
 Welsh 
 Slovenian 
 Flemish 
 
 1,000 
 
 to 
 2,000 
 
 Chinese 
 
 Spanish - 
 
 Finnish 
 
 Scotch Gaelic 
 
 Lettic - 
 
 Aral)ic 
 
 Armenian 
 
 Manx 
 
 Icelandic 
 
 Albanian 
 
 Bulgarian - 
 
 Tmkish - 
 
 Japanese 
 
 Portuguese 
 
 Breton 
 
 Esthonian 
 
 Basque 
 
 Gypsy - 
 
 about 
 
 j- 1,000 
 
 500 
 250 
 
 !- 100 
 
 less 
 ■ than 
 100 
 
 114
 
 TWO TWICE-TOLD TALES
 
 TWO TWICE-TOLD TALES 
 
 J. J. Meyer 
 
 Benfey, in his Paflcatantra, Vol. I, p. 442, mentions the story of Kinnara as a 
 parallel to a certain far-spread Hindu "Tale of the Faithless Wife." ' The magnificent 
 collection of the Pdli Jdfaka was not accessible to the great pioneer. We have it now 
 — six beautiful volumes, edited by the master hand of Fausboll. When I read these 
 stories for the first time some years ago I gladly hailed as an old acquaintance also the 
 tale of Queen Kinnara in the Kundlajdtaka. For this is the oldest form known at 
 present of Ariosto's excellent iiorcUa of Astollo and Giocoiido {Orlando Furiuso, canto 
 28). After a second perusal of the Jdfaka book some time later, I concluded to call 
 the attention of others to the matter. But just when I wanted to publish the following 
 translation and notes I saw in the Rasscgna hihliografica drlla letfcratura italiana of 
 February, 181)9, a notice to the effect that Professor P. E. Pavolini had shown in the 
 eleventh volume of the Giornale dclla Societd Asiaiica a striking similarity between 
 Ariosto's novella and the Kundlajdtaka. I see now that Professor Pavolini only 
 gives a brief abstract of the Jdtaka, and that the remarks he offers are different from 
 mine. So there seems to be room for the following pages. 
 
 The tale of Kinnara is embodied in the Kundlajdtaka {The Jdtaka, ed. FausbOll, 
 Vol. V, pp. 437 ff.). Thus we are told: 
 
 In times gone by there was in Benares a king by the name of Kandari, who was most 
 handsome in face and form. Daily his ministers brought a thousand boxes of perfumes to him, 
 anointed his palace with them, split the perfume boxes, and with this scented wood cooked his 
 meals. His wife was very beautiful and named Kinnara. His domestic chaplain, Paucalacanda 
 by name, was endowed with wisdom and of the same age with the king. Now, at the king's 
 castle, inside the wall, there had grown up a jambu tree [rose apple tree], the branches of which 
 hung over the top of the wall, and in the shade of this tree there dwelt a cripple loathsome 
 and ugly of figm'e. 
 
 One day when Queen Kinnara was looking through the window she saw him and fell in 
 love with him. After she had bestowed her favors on the king the next night, and he had fallen 
 asleep, she softly rose, put most delicious food of different kinds into a golden vessel, and, 
 conveying this in the folds of her dress, she descended b}' means of a rope made of cloth ^ down 
 through the window [evidently first alighting upon the top of the wall], and mounted the rose 
 apple tree. Then she descended by means of the branches, fed the cripple, sinned (with him), 
 and then again ascended to the palace in the way she had come. With perfumes she shampooed 
 her body and laid herself down with the king. In this manner she continually sinned with that 
 man and the king knew it not. 
 
 One day he passed around the city in solemn procession. Entering his palace he saw the 
 
 1 Cf. the article of F. L. Pull6 in the fourth volume of (1898, pp. 165-73) ; also J. J. Meter, Dandins Dagakumara- 
 the G/orna?erfei?a.S'ocie(<i^4sm(icai(aZia;ta(1890, pp. 129-64), caritam (Leipzig, 1902), pp. 87-96. 
 and P. E. Pavolini in the eleventh volume of that journal 2 Or perhaps rather: " of her outer garment." 
 
 117
 
 Two TwiCE-ToLD Tales 
 
 cripple, who presented a most pitiful appearance,^ lying in the shade of the rose apple tree, and 
 he said to his domestic chaplain: "See this specter of a man?" "Yes, my Lord." "Now, I 
 wonder, friend, whether a woman would approach such a disgusting fellow in amoroiLS passion?" 
 When the cripple heard these words he was filled with vanity and thought: " What says this 
 kiug? He is not aware, it seems, that his own queen comes to me." Saluting the tree respect- 
 fully by raising his joined hands to his forehead, he said: "Hear thou, O lordly deity who wast 
 born in this rose apple tree; save thee nobody knows this matter." 
 
 When the domestic chaplain saw him do this he reflected: " Sm-ely the king's queen consort 
 comes by way of the rose apple tree and sins with him." [Should this miraculous insight 
 surijrise anybody, let him remember that this domestic chaplain was the Buddha himself in one 
 of his anterior births.] And he asked the king: " O, great king, how is the touch of the queen's 
 body in the night time?" 
 
 "I observed nothing else, friend; but in the middle watch of the night her body is cold." 
 
 " Then, my lord, to say nothing of other women — your consort. Queen Kinnara, sins with him." 
 
 "What are you talking about, friend? How should such a lady, endowed with the highest 
 charms, amuse herself with such a most hideous fellow?" 
 
 " Try her then, my lord." 
 
 " All right," he said, and the following night, having supped, he retired with the queen and 
 thinking, " I will try her," he feigned to have fallen asleep when the time came that he usually 
 fell asleep. She rose and did as she was wont. The king followed her and stood still below 
 the rose apple tree. 
 
 The cripple was angry with the queen and he boxed her ears,* saying: " You loitered too long 
 incoming." Then she pleaded: "Do not be angry, my lord; I watched for the king to fall 
 asleep." And she was like a wife in his house. 
 
 But when he stnick her one of her ear-rings, shaped like a lion's face (or mouth), bounded 
 away from her ear and dropped at the feet of the king. The king thought, " This is enough to 
 serve my purpose," took the ring, and returned. After having transgressed with the cripple, she 
 also retm-ned in her former manner and commenced to lie with the king. He pushed her back 
 and on the next day commanded: " The Queen Kinnara shall come to me bedecked with all the 
 ornaments I gave her." She said, " Mj' lion-ring is at the goldsmith's," and did not come. 
 When she had been sent for again she came with one ring. The king asked: " Where is your 
 ring?" " At the goldsmith's." He called the goldsmith. " Why do you not give her her ring?" 
 he said. "I did not receive it, my lord." The kiug got angry and said: " You wicked pariah 
 woman, your goldsmith must look like me." And throwing the ring down before her he said to 
 the domestic chaplain: " You spoke the truth, friend; go and have her head cut off." 
 
 He (the chaplain) put her away somewhere in the king's house, drew near the king and 
 said: " My lord, be not angry with Queen Kinnara; all women are that way. And if you wish to 
 see the bad natiue of women, I will show you their wickedness and many wiles. Come, we will 
 travel incognito through the land.'' 
 
 The king assented, intrusted the kingdom to his mother, and set forth with him upon their 
 journey. W^hen they came to a cross-road [or, after they had traveled twelve miles]," they sat 
 down at the highway. 
 
 3The dictionaries, botii Sanskrit and Pali, give only '• Tho Pali text has here the reaiHing tcsnm yojananiag- 
 
 "compassion " for fc'irunya (frrtrttftJIu). But wo can hardly f/am gayitvft viahdmaf/f/e nisinTiananiy which is clearly 
 
 translate " who roused the deepest compassion." wniii^'. Two emendations easily sug{?est themselves. We 
 
 < Literally " struclt her on the orifice of her oars with ■"'«'>*■ >■«'«' '<•«"!' satiii/ojanamagyam gcmh-a, etc., t. c, 
 
 his hand " - AaH/icna kanvamhklialiyam pahari ; r/. " when they had come to a cross-way." One .>f the two sani 
 
 Sumunrmla-viluum. ]>.3n, last line, and p. 312, first line: immediately following oat-h other would very naturally 
 
 bhikkhuni kannasuhkhalii/am paharitva. Kannatahkhali have dropped out through the negligence of the scribe. 
 
 i&i\m ^kt. karruicashkuU, '' But ifajid'd (instead of jjaii'rt) would then be a little 
 
 118
 
 J. J. Meyer 
 
 A landed proprietor wlio was c('lel)ratiug his son's wedding came along witli great pomp 
 and rotiuuo and the girl (the bride) seated in a palanUin. When the domestic chaplain saw this 
 he said : "If you wish, it is possible to make this girl sin with you." 
 
 "How can you say so? Her retinue is too great for tiiat, friend." 
 
 "See then, my lord," said the chaplain. 
 
 He stepped forward, made a tent not far from the road, and put the king into the tent, he 
 himself sitting down at the wayside weeping. Then the landed proprietor, seeing him, inquired : 
 " Why do you weep, my good sir? " 
 
 " My wife is very big with child; I started upon the way to take her to the home of her kin. 
 But on the highway her throes came upon her; she is laboring within the tent, no woman is at 
 her side and I cannot go there. I do not know what will become of it." 
 
 "You must get a woman. Don't weep; there are many women; one will go." 
 
 "Then this girl here shall go, and it will be a lucky omen also for her." 
 
 The man thought: " He speaks the truth; it will Ije an omen betokening luck to her too; 
 she will increase in sons and daughters; " atld he sent her. She entered there, saw the king, 
 fell in love with him, and sinned with him. The king gave her the seal-ring from his finger. 
 When she had finished and returned from out of the tent, they asked her: "What has she 
 borne?" She answered : " A son of golden hue." The landed proprietor took her and journeyed 
 on with his train. 
 
 The chaplain also went to the king and said: "You see, my lord, even a young girl is so 
 wicked, far more the other women. But have you given her anj'thing? " 
 
 "Yes, the seal-ring fi'om my finger." 
 
 " I will not allow her that." 
 
 He rapidly strode on, caught up with the palankin," and when they asked : " What is the 
 matter? " he answered : " She took the seal-ring with her that had been placed under my wife's 
 pillow. Give me the seal-ring, my good lady." She wounded the brahman's hand with her 
 finger-nails when she gave him the ring and said : " Take it, you rascal." 
 
 Thus by various stratagems the brahman brought it about that the king could sec (with his 
 
 stranpo. Or we might read tesatn yojanamaggam gantca, identification of .Saketa with Ayodhya, adducing conclu- 
 etc, i. c, "after they had gone a tjojana's way." Anobjec- sive proofs for this view, and identifies Savatthi with Sewet 
 lion to that reading would be this that twelve miles was and the modern Sahet-Mahet. Whatever explanation we 
 too long a journey to find the first pliant woman. That may adopt to reconcile the il/oAni'ai7.9a with these state- 
 were not in keeping with the spirit of the fairy tale, ments, it is clear that the yojana of the MahCivaf/ga 
 especially as the king was "very fair of form and figure." amounts to vastly more than two or three miles, unless we 
 But although Childers gives a yojana as twelve miles, that reject Cunningham's identification, which seems to rest on 
 does not seem to be so very correct. The statements a very solid basis, or assume that another Saketa is meant, 
 regarding the yojana differ greatly. Oesterlet, Baital a very improbable expedient. On the other hand, in 
 Pacchisi, P- *!?, says a ?/oja na = about nine miles; Stein, Sutta 89 of the Majjhima-KikCiya King Pasenadi looks at 
 Rajatarangini (transl.). Vol. VII, p. .393, about six miles; the park of Nangaraka. There the thought of visiting 
 Crooke, Popular Religion and Folklore of Northern Buddha enters his mind. But the Master is sojourning in 
 India, p. 232, ten miles; MONIEU Williams, su6 voce, Metalumpa. The king is told that the distance between the 
 informs us; '' Sometimes regarded as equal to four or five two places is not great, only three 2/oja7(a5, and that one 
 ^English miles, but more correctly = four krogas or about could ride to Metalumpa during the rest of the day 
 nine miles; according to other calculations = two and {divasOvasesena). The king's charioteer actually takes his 
 one-half English miles, and according to some = eight lord there in time. Such a thing would have been impos- 
 kro^as." Professor Lanman writes me: " It is 60 yojanas sible, it seems, if a J/oj'ana were between twelve and seven 
 from Kapilavatthu to Rajagaha (Jiit. I, p. X5, 1. 31), that is miles. A distance of about eight miles in all appears to be 
 about l.'jO miles, perhaps — that gives only 2 or 3 miles for a quite enough for the '' rest of the day," the roads in ancient 
 yojanana." Cunningham takes the yojana as seven miles. India not being of the ideal kind. Perhaps the yojana 
 Mahuvagga, VII, 1, mentions six ?/ojo?i«5 as the distance (literally "a distance traversed in one harnessing or with- 
 between Saketa and Savatthi; according to the Fa-Hian, out unyoking") was just as indefinite in old India as 
 it was eight 2/ojana-s. Counting the (/oja^ia as seven miles, now is the term "mile" which has to be qualified by 
 the Chinese traveler's statement would give us fifty-six " English," " German," " geographical," etc., in order to be 
 miles, which is correct according to Cunningham {Ancient correctly understood. 
 Geography of India, Vol.1, p. 409), who accepts the common 6 Perhaps, rather, "stopped the palankin." 
 
 119
 
 Two Twice-Told Tales 
 
 own eyes) many other licentious women, and he said: "This is enough for this place, let us go 
 elsewhere, my lord." 
 
 The king roamed through all JambudvTpa [lit., " the island of the rose apple tree," i. e., 
 India], and then he declared: "All women (outside of Jambud^ipa) will be the same way. 
 What of them ! Let us return." So they went back to Benares. 
 
 The chaplain pleaded with the king : " Such, O great king, are all women, of such a 
 bad quality is their nature; pardon Queen Kinuara." He pardoned her and expelled her 
 from his comt; and as he had deprived her of her station he chose another queen consort. 
 And the cripple he caused to be driven away, and the branch of the rose apple tree (that hung 
 over the top of the wall) he had cut down. 
 
 It will be seen at a glance that this old Buddhist version of the story is very 
 interesting in many respects. A careful comparison with the Arabian and Italian tales 
 points to several things. I mention only a few. 
 
 The story of Shah Zamau (Shahseman) or of Giocondo being cured of his heart- 
 ache by seeing the king's wife doing the same thing as his own spouse is here missing. 
 But that is of no importance at all. The story of " The Lady in the Box," which 
 forms a sej^arate Jdtuka in the Pdli collection, we see in the Arabian Nights 
 woven into the introductory story, with which originally it had no connection at all. 
 A multitude of similar cases might be pointed out. These productions of the people's 
 fancy grow not only from within, but also from without. The different versions drop the 
 one incident and add another, either by spontaneous growth or more frequently by 
 appropriating another story or part of another story. This story of " The Lady in 
 the Box" must serve, in the Arabian Nights, the same purpose as the king's salutary 
 ramble through various countries in the Buddhistic tale and in the Orlando Furioso. 
 
 The Arab story-teller could not use this portion. The old Hindu looks upon the 
 frailty of the fair sex rather with the sadly smiling eye of the philosopher. And the 
 numerous angry invectives against women in Hindu literature notwithstanding, we 
 even meet a multitude of stories where the tricks which amorous women play their 
 relatives, and especially their husbands, are described with the same inward chuckle 
 as in the "laughing tales" of Boccaccio, Bandello, and others. The Muhammedan 
 spirit is severer and fiercer. Shahryar (Sheherban) puts to death his wife and a host 
 of other women (1,095, if there was no leap year among those three years) ; the king 
 of Benares spares his guilty spouse u[)on the intercession of his chaplain. And then, 
 just think of a Muhammedan ruler roving through the land and introducing himself 
 by stealth into as many harems as possible in order to learn by experience that no 
 woman is true and chaste if she can help it ! 
 
 Another consideration is this : Adhering to the original version, the Arabian 
 collection could hardly have introduced Sheherezade, who is so pre-eminently neces- 
 sary. The Arabian adaptations of these old tales are often better than the more original 
 forms, but the otherwise excellent story of "The Lady in the Box" seems to me here 
 a rather inferior substitute for the way in wJiicli the king is made to see the depravity 
 of all womankind in our Pali JCitaka and in Ariosto's novella. We must concede that 
 
 120
 
 J. J. Meyer 
 
 this king Shahryar is drawn witli a masterhand, and the spirit of tho fairy-tale, 
 especially the Arabian fairy-tale, is manifested in a sparkling manner. This poor 
 lady has been cruelly torn away from her bridegroom by tho Jinni ; ladies do not like 
 to be put into boxes of this kind, not even in the countries of the harem; such treat- 
 ment would be sufficient to raise the spirit of deviltry in a Penelope; still our sultan 
 Shahryar, like a true eastern despot, infers from this exceptional case that all womcm act 
 like the one now before him, which is a flat contradiction of his previous attitude toward 
 the question. He is the type of the stupid, cruel prince so common in eastern tales. 
 
 By the way, this peculiarity of the NigJits that they usually — Harun ar Rashid, 
 of course, excepted— depict princes as rather dull, hasty, bloody, etc., whereas their 
 ministers are models of insight, prudence, energy, and other good qualities, is doubt- 
 less in a great measure due to the fact that the NigJits go back to the Jataka as 
 their principal fountain-head. In the Jftfala Boddhisatta (the later Buddha) is again 
 and again born as a king's minister, and as such restrains and instriicts his impetuous 
 and often weak-minded lord. Now, we know that in the Orient ministers of state are, 
 as a rule, no better, and even worse, than their masters, or slaves, i. e., the princes. So 
 the Nights can in this respect hardly have copied life. Still, the noble family of the 
 Barmecides, for instance, may have contributed colors to this bright, ideal picture of 
 the vezir. But, in spite of many excellent traits in the Arabian tale, the best, most 
 essential, and most extraordinary part of the whole story, i. c, the king's peculiar 
 exploratory tour, together with a few other things in our Jdtaka, go to make up a bet- 
 ter narrative than the Muhammedan adaptation. 
 
 That the story when it became known to the Muhammedans contained this journey of 
 the king through various countries and his amorous adventures with a multitude of women 
 is also clearly shown by the manner in which the substitute for this portion is introduced. 
 When Shahryar with his own eyes had seen his queen in the loving embrace of the 
 negro Said, he said, according to Burton's literal translation of the Arabian Nights: 
 
 " Let us up as we are and depart forthright hence, for we have no concern with kingship, 
 and let us overwauder Allah's earth, worsliiping the Almighty till we find some one to whom 
 the like calamity hath happened; and if we find none then will death be more welcome to us 
 than life." So the two brothers issued from a second private postern of the palace; and they 
 never stinted wayfaring by day and by night, imtil they reached a tree a-middle of a meadow — 
 hard by a spring of sweet water on the shore of the sea. 
 
 Then happens the story of "The Lady in the Box" and their immediate return 
 home. The words quoted seem to indicate beyond doubt that the tale when the 
 Muhammedans borrowed it described a far more extensive and very diiferent journey 
 of the two. Why should they make so much ado, give up the kingdom, set out upon 
 the way to " overwauder Allah's earth" simply and exclusively in order to find a single 
 and solitary woman who would not be loyal to her husband or lover? It is true, our 
 king Shahryar is no miracle of intelligence, and the way in which he is stupefied by 
 his wife's colored liaison renders him very naive and amusing. Still he has just now 
 
 121
 
 8 Two TwiCE-ToLD Tales 
 
 seen eleven women follow their lewd desires ; his brother's wife added makes twelve ; 
 he is an oriental, a Muhammedan, and as such cannot help but have imbibed a some- 
 what realistic philosophy in puncto foeminarum. So this whole portion is simply 
 ridiculous, and the words quoted above and the things that came to j^ass thereiipon 
 can be explained only by the fact that the Muhammedans found these words, although 
 quite different in some respects, in the story and transplanted them into their own 
 version, the final development of which renders them so utterly incongruous, to say 
 nothing of other blemishes. 
 
 So the outcome seems to be this: The theory that Ariosto has taken over the 
 introductory story from the Arabian Nicjlds is untenable. But we see everywhere 
 how very tenacious certain incidents and even phrases are in these tales of the people, 
 their marked pliability and even Proteus-like transformations in some respects not- 
 withstanding. It were possible, therefore, that Ariosto nevertheless got the story 
 through the instrumentality of the Arabs. A version conforming more to the original 
 tale and independent of the introduction to the Ni(jlds might still have been current 
 among the Arabs at that time. But this is not very probable. We know that the 
 manuscripts of the celebrated Arabian collection diifer in a most astonishing manner. 
 But the introduction — together with a number of other tales — is the same every- 
 where, as far as matter is concerned, and even the wording varies here not essentially. 
 "The Introduction (with a single incidental story 'The Bull and the Ass') .... 
 may be placed in our tenth century," says Burton in his translation (Vol. X, p. 93). 
 His o[)inion is certainly entitled to respect. All Arabists, I think, agree that the 
 introduction is one of the oldest parts. Now, it seems not very plausible that another 
 version should have survived among the Arabs down to Ariosto's time side by side 
 with its all-powerful rival in the Nights. I would rather incline to the opinion that 
 the story was brought to Italy from Russia. We know that intercourse between these 
 two countries was quite lively at that time. But as I cannot show up the Slavic link, 
 I must give this as a mei-e, though very probable, supposition. 
 
 Like the other stories of the introduction to the Avahian Niijlds, the one most 
 important of them all for the collection is of Hindu origin; the Shehereznde, most 
 famous and typical of Arabian girls, is found in the tales of the Jainas, an old reli- 
 gious sect of India. Jacobi, in his well-known book AiisgewdliUe Erzdhlungcn in 
 Mdltdrdshtri (1880) has published the Prakrit text of the story, and many a reader 
 of this valuable volume must have recognized the identity. But, so far as I know, 
 nobody has yet considered it worth while to speak about the matter. So I subjoin an 
 almost literal translation. The story is found pp. 49 if. It is taken from a com- 
 mentary of Devendra which was finished in 1073 A. D.' Devondra himself calls his 
 work an epitome of a book of ^antyacarya.* The tale runs thus: 
 
 'Jacodi gives Samvat 1179, i. e., 1122-2.3 A. D. But this 8 Of him Pavomni (in his article, "Vicendo del tipodi 
 
 mistake has been cr)rrccled by Leumann, "Die Le^endo Miiladcva," Giormilc delta Socictil Anfatira Ualiana, Vol. 
 
 von Citta ilnd Sainl)iinta," Wiener Zcitschrift fiir die IX, i». ITS) says: '' vcrosiinilnuuito di im)Co postc.rioro alia 
 
 KuTuie des Moryenlimdcs, Vol. V, p. 112. redaziono doUnitivo del cuuono doi jaiua (4b4 d. C.)." 
 
 122
 
 J. J. Meyer 9 
 
 There is here in India a city named Khiipaitthi3-am. JiyasattQ was king there. Once 
 the king commenced a picture-gallery and handed it over to the guild of painters in equal por- 
 tions [i. e., assigned the head of every family — professions being hereditary in India- an 
 equal share of tlie work to be done]. Many painters painted. Also an old p;iinter, Cittangaa 
 by name, painted. A long time passed. And his young daughter, Kauayamaiijari by name, 
 brought him his meals. One day she was on her way to her father with his dinner in her 
 hands, when a hf)rsenian came along the king's highway, that was crowded with people, on his 
 horse, making it run at full speed. And she fled in fear. Then after ho had rushed by she 
 went to her father. When Cittangaa saw that his meal had come, he went to ease nature. To 
 while away time Kauayamaiijari painted there in colors, on the paved floor, a peacock's feather 
 entirely true to nature. 
 
 In the meanwhile King Jiyasattu came to the picture-gallery. Looking at the paintings 
 he saw the peacock's feather on the paved iloor, and thinking, " It's beautiful," he stretched out 
 his hand to pick it up. He broke his nails, which were like pearl-oyster shells. Abashed he 
 looked into space. 
 
 Kanayamailjari said with a laugh: "While I reflected, 'A chair doesn't stand on three 
 legs,' and sought the fourth foolish man, I have now found you as the fourth leg." 
 
 The king said: " How is that? Tell me the whole matter as it is." 
 
 She said laughing: " While I brought my father his meal a man rode a horse in hot haste 
 on the king's highway. He had not a bit of pity, for old people, children, women, and all other 
 weak people that passed along were trampled down. Therefore this horseman, being an arrant 
 fool, is the chair's first leg. The second leg is the king, by whom the picture-gallery has been 
 assigned to the painters in equal shares. In the individual families there are many painters. 
 My father is, firstly, without a son; secondly, an old man; thirdly, poor. But although he is 
 such, an equal portion (of the work) has been set down for him (which he cannot do under the 
 circumstances). The third leg is my father here, because while painting at this picture-gallery 
 he has spent what he had earned before; now I bring him any food I get, and when it has 
 come — he goes to ease nature! What a dull man he is! "" 
 
 The king said: " Why am I the fourth leg?" 
 
 The other said : " Now, anyone knows at once : ' How should a peacock's feather come 
 here indeed!' If it [the feather] had been brought here in some way or other, even then one 
 would perceive it by the eye at once." '" 
 
 The king said : " I am really a fool and as such the fourth leg of the chair." Hearing how 
 (cleverly) she put her words together and seeing the loveliness of her body, he became enamored 
 of her. But when Kanayamanjari had given her father to eat she went home. 
 
 By mouth of Sugutta, his prime minister, the king asked Cittangaa for Kanayamanjari. 
 He said : " We are poor. How could we celebrate the marria|^e and pay the king due honor! " 
 
 This was told the king. He had Cittangaa's house filled with money, grain, and gold. 
 On an auspicious lunar-day, in an auspicious hour, Kanayamanjari was married ( i)y the king) 
 in great splendor. A palace and a great multitude of female slaves were bestowed on her. 
 
 Now the king had many queens; every one (of them) entered the king's sleeping apart- 
 ment on the night when her turn came. And on that day the order was given that it was 
 
 ^ Slyala, Sanskrit, (Ttala, "cold," seems to be used had thought for a moment that the feather had been 
 
 just as jat^a for "cold, torpid, senseless, stupid," in San- there, he would have rectified the mistake right away (/. 
 
 skrit. e., perceived that it was no real feather). Or: Even if the 
 
 i"Or "by his intelligence." The literal translation feather had been brought there, one (/. e., people) would 
 
 would be : " It might have been brought here in some way ^^^o seen it right away (and picked it un, of course, not 
 
 or other [so one might object]. Even then one would per- leaving it till the king came)- 
 ceive it," etc. The sense may be : Even if a man of sense 
 
 123
 
 10 Two TwicE-ToLD Tales 
 
 Kanayamanjari's turn. Bedecked and adorned she went, together with her slave-girl Mayaniya, 
 and sat down upon a seat. 
 
 In the meanwhile the king came. She rose to greet him and performed the other acts of 
 politeness and modesty. The king lay down on the bed. 
 
 Before this time already Kanayamanjari had said to Mayaniya: " When the king has lain 
 down you must ask me for a story in a way that the king hears it." Therefore Mayaniya said 
 at this appropriate moment: " Mistress, tell me a story while the king tarries (with us here)." 
 The other said: "The king must fust sleep soundly, then I will tell one." 
 
 The king thought: "Now, what kind of a story will she tell? I too will hear it." So he 
 pretended to be asleep. Mayaniya said: "Mistress, the king is asleep; tell the story." 
 
 The other said: " Listen! There was in a city Vasantaura a merchant Varuua. He had a 
 chapel built of one hand in size tliat was made all of one block. Into this he put a certain idol 
 of four hands." Mayaniya said: " Mistress, how could there be room for an idol of four hands 
 in a chapel of one hand in size?" The other said: "I am sleepy now; tomorrow I shall tell." 
 " Thus let it be," said Mayaniya, who went out and went home. The king's curiosity was roused 
 and he thought: " What kind of thing is this? " She (Kanayamanjari) also lay down to sleep. 
 
 When on the .second day again the order was given that it was her tiu-n, shewas addressed 
 in the same way by Mayaniya: "Mistress, tell that half-told tale (to the end)." The other said: 
 " Friend, that god is the Foiu'-Armed One," but this is not the size of his body [i. e., what I 
 said does not refer to the size of his body]." Thus far goes the story. 
 
 Mayaniya said: "Tell me another." 
 
 Kanayamanjari said: "Friend, there is a great forest. In it there stands a great red 
 asoka tree with outspread boughs and branches. And it has no shade." 
 
 Mayaniya said: " How could such an excellent tree have no shade? " 
 
 She said: " Tomorrow I'll tell; now I am overcome by sleep." 
 
 The third day again, out of curiosity, she was summoned. In the same manner she was 
 questioned by Mayaniya. She explained: "That tree's shade is below it."'- 
 
 Asked for another story, she nanated: " In a certain place there was a village magistrate. 
 He had a camel. And this roamed about at will. One day when it roamed about it saw a 
 babbula tree abounding in leaves, blossoms, and fruit. And toward that it stretched out its 
 neck and could not reach it. And for the tree's sake it harassed itself a very long time. Then 
 it stretched out its neck still a great deal more in all four directions. When it could not reach 
 (the tree) in any wav, it was seized by anger. Therefore it'discharged its m'ine and dung on the 
 tree." 
 
 Mayaniya said: "How could it discharge its urine and dung on the tree which it could 
 not even reach with its mouth? " 
 
 The other said : " TomoiTow I'll tell." 
 
 In the same manner she declared on the following day: " That babbula tree was down in 
 a • blind ' well," therefore the camel could not eat of it." '* 
 
 In this way Kanayamanjari befooled the king with such interesting stories for six months. 
 
 11 Vishnu, who is ropresonted with four arms and bo taken more literally. The shining water in the well is 
 hands. its pupil of the eye ( Aut/oistcrn) . Vf. the interesting, 
 
 12 Therefore it ftiw no shade, is not protected by shade ; oft-recurring passase, Majjh ima-Nikayu, Vol. I, p. 80, where 
 whereas Mayayiya (and the liiufe-) took the painter's •«e\\A\o udakataraka, Wussevstern = Waescrspugd {ot a. 
 daughter to mean that the tree cast uo shade. well). 
 
 "Literally, "in the mi.ldlo of a blind well-pit." A "The Sanskrit version hero adds six other stories, all 
 
 well dried up, overcrown with plants, nud not used is of a similarnaturn. Three of them are well-known tales 
 
 meant. The metaphor may be the same as in the German, 'Nos. r., 0, 7). As they are nc-ither in the Maharashtri text 
 
 bUmiai Feiixler, hlhtde Tkilre: or the term may refer to the ""■■ "^oct the matter in hand, I pass them by. 
 fact that such a well is hidden from view ; or the word may 
 
 124
 
 J. J. Meyer 11 
 
 Then he had become exceeding-ly enamored of her. Exclusively devoted to the pleasm-e of 
 love with her alone, he passed the time. 
 
 Then her fellow wives Ijecame enraged against her, sought for weak points in her, and 
 conferred together: " She has bewitched the king by witchcraft, so that he has abandoned even 
 his queens who were born in the highest families; in his passion for this artisan's daughter he 
 considers neither excellences nor faults, pays no attention to the affairs of the kingdom; cares 
 not that his wealth is being ruined by her juggler's tricks." 
 
 But'^ Kanayamanjari, day l)y day, entered one of the chambers in her palace at noon-time, 
 all alone, cast off the garments and the finery that belonged to the king [i. e., that the king had 
 given her], and put on the ragged dress and the finery made of tin and lead that she had got 
 from her father. And she admonished her own soul: "Do not be proud, O soul, of (this) 
 wealth, do not become conceited, forget not thyself! The king's is this wealtli, thine are these 
 clothes all beaten to pieces with the stick"* and this finery. So be of a calm mind, Ijccause for 
 a long time thou didst not enjoy such splendor. Else the king might take thee by the neck 
 and put thee out." 
 
 Observing these her doings day by day, her fellow- wives said to the king: "Although you 
 are destitute of love for us, nevertheless we will ward off misfortune from you; for: Woman's 
 deity is her husband. This woman here, who is your sweetheart, pronounces some incantation 
 or evil spell. Being bewitched by her, you do not notice this mischief." 
 
 The king said: " How is that?" 
 
 They said: "At noon-time she goes into a chamber, shuts the door, and stands there 
 mumbling something by herself, day by day, for some time. If you don't believe it, watch 
 her " yourself or (have it done) by a niunber of others." 
 
 And, having heard this, the king went himself. Standing at the door in order to watch 
 Kanayamanjari, who had entered the room, he saw the doings described already and how she 
 instructed her own self. His heart was filled with joy. "O what pnidence of hers! O what 
 freedom from pride! O what discrimination! Therefore she is in every respect a treasure of all 
 excellences; and these [her fellow-wives] are envious by reason of their being fellow-wives. 
 For even excellence they deem a fault." 
 
 And fidl of joy the king made her mistress of the whole kingdom and invested her with 
 the turban.'* 
 
 The king was right. Her conduct in prosperity proved her to be a rare jewel 
 among women; and though this story, which clearly is an abridgment anyhow, in 
 many respects ranks below that of the Arabian Nights, Kanayamanjari showed such 
 eminent qualities in all her dealings that Sheherezade need not be ashamed of her 
 Hindu mother. 
 
 15 Literally " from that time," the time when the king nOr: "investigate the matter." 
 
 had shown her his favor. is j-. g._ i,g j^^.,,, i^g^ crowned as pattaraJTii - as his 
 
 16 In the process of washing numberless times, principal wife or queen consort. 
 
 125
 
 THE UNITY OF PLATO^S THOUGHT
 
 THE UNITY OF PLATO'S THOUGHT 
 
 Paul Shorey 
 
 PART I 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 During the past twenty years Platonic Forsdiiuig has come to mean the investi- 
 gation of the relative dates of the dialogues liy the statistical study of vocabulary and 
 idiom. The general trend of modern philology and the reaction figainst mystical and 
 metaphysical Platonism favored this tendency, and the work would perhaps not have 
 been done at all if the workmen had not cherished illusions as to its value. To 
 combat these illusions or to test in detail the logic of Sprachstntistilcis not the purpose 
 of this paper. A merely negative attitude toward any harmless form of human 
 endeavor is unfruitful. But granted, since life is short, all that is claimed by the 
 enumerators of icaOd-rrep and ti fi-qv, the essential quality of Plato's thought remains for 
 some Platonists' a more interesting topic of discussion than the conjectural chronology 
 of his writings. It has become the fashion to assert that the one depends upon the 
 other, that we cannot interpret Plato's philosophy until we have determined the 
 historic sequence of the dialogues, and with it the true order of development of his 
 thought. But we have always known that the Laws and TimcBus are late, that the 
 Republic belongs to Plato's full maturity, and that the minor Socratic dialogues are as 
 a whole presumably early. To affirm that more is necessary is to beg the question; 
 it is to assume the very point in controversy that the philosophy set forth in the 
 dialogues did develop in the sense required by the argument. The question is partly 
 verbal Every man's thought is developed out of nothing somewhere between infancy 
 and maturity. Any author whose literary activity, like that of Plato, extends over 
 half a century undergoes many minor changes of opinion, and reflects many varying 
 moods of himself and his contemporaries. But it is not true of all, or of a majority, of 
 the world's great thinkers that their first tentative gropings toward a philosophy and 
 a criticism of life are depicted as in a votive tablet in their earliest published writings, 
 or that the works of their riper years present a succession of shifting and dissolving 
 views. Yet something like this is the assumption made by the increasing number of 
 investigators who, in emulation of the triumphs of the statistical method, are endeav- 
 oring to confirm, refute, or cori'ect its results by a study of alleged inconsistencies, 
 contradictions, or developments in Platonic doctrine. Abstractly the followers of this 
 method would probably repudiate the principle here attributed to them. In their 
 practice the desire for striking arguments and definite results leads them to assume 
 that Plato was capable of producing a masterpiece like the Protagoras before his most 
 characteristic philosophical and ethical conceptions had taken shape in his mind, and 
 
 1 Notably for Bos'iTZ ; see the judicious observations in Platonlschc Studicn, 3d ed., pp. 270 ff. and pa&shn. 
 
 129
 
 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 that throughout the period of his meiturest writings his leading ideas were in a state 
 of Heraclitean flux, or were being casually developed from year to year. This method 
 misleads scholars of great acumen and erudition to make false points, to labor fantastic 
 analogies, and to cite irrelevant parallels. It betrays them into misplaced emphasis, 
 disregard of the context, and positive mistranslation. In short, it necessitates the 
 systematic violation of all the canons of the simple, sane, and natural interpretation of 
 literature.' Plato avoided rather than sought a rigid technical terminology, and 
 prodigally varied the language and imagery in which he clothed his most familiar 
 thoughts. Every variation of phrase and imagery is pressed to yield significant 
 contradictions or developments. The most far-reaching conclusions are drawn from 
 the different shades of meaning attached to such words as '"opinion," "dialectic,'" 
 "philosophy," "sensation," "reminiscence," "participation," "presence," "com- 
 munion," freely and untechnically employed by Plato to suit the theme and context.' 
 The absence in any work of explicit insistence on a thought is supposed to prove the 
 absence of the thought from Plato's mind at the time, and as a consequence, we are 
 expected to believe in the most incredible combinations of maturity and naivete within 
 the same writing. Or we are taught that Plato's development, like some Sophoclean 
 sentences, proceeds in the order alxi, and consisted in the acceptance, the rejection, 
 and the re-acceptance of the same idea. The most reckless assertions are made that 
 certain elementary thoughts appear for the first time in certain dialogues. The 
 emphatic introduction of a term or idea is, according to the exigencies of the theory, 
 now taken as proof that it is a novelty, and now explained away as a mere dramatic 
 artifice. The rapid outline of an argument is alternately regarded, according to the 
 requirements of the "chronology," as an anticipatory germ or a later resume of the 
 fuller treatment found elsewhere. Fantastic conceits or bare possibilities as to Plato's 
 literary motives and polemical intentions are treated as absolute psychological and 
 historical certainties and made the basis of serious arguments.* 
 
 May there not be some TrpSiTov i/revSo? involved in a conception that thus betrays 
 its advocates? It is of course a 'priori conceivable that Plato's thought did unfold 
 itself in this tentative and fumbling fashion. Examples of such mutations and nuta- 
 tions can be found among the Fichtes and Schellings of modern philosophy. They 
 are still more frequent, as Professor Gildersleeve lias wittily shown, in the history 
 of modern philology, and, as I may add, in the interpretation of Plato. But it is at least 
 equally probable that Plato's philosophy and his conception of life had taken shape 
 at the age of thirty or thirty-five, and that his extant works, though not of course a pre- 
 determined systematic exposition, are tlie naturally varied reflection of a liomogene- 
 ous body of opinion, and of a consistent attitude in the interpretation and criticism of 
 
 2 Examples throut^'hoiit thn i)ap<^r. alizf3cl statnments and criticisms of ttmdencies in the 
 
 _, , , , . ^ ., , I luui^ht ()f tiio time, and ospocially tlio hypothesis that ho 
 
 ^ Infra, and LuTOSLAWsur, Uniim (iiid Growth of »■ . , ^ ■ i .1 r i- 
 
 „,..,. satirized contemporaries under the names of earlier 
 
 Plato s Logtc^ passim. o i.- . c \_ » .1 -n i i n j- j i- 
 
 Sophists. Such hyiM)(heses will be wholly disre(?ardea in 
 
 * To this category behmii nearly all conjectures as to the foIlowiuK study, as a more hintlranco to thtt apprehen- 
 
 tho particular philosophers referred to in Plato's >rener- sion of Plato's own meauinys. 
 
 130
 
 Pail Shukky 5 
 
 contemporary life. And if this wore the fact, it woukl be a far more important fact for 
 the interpretation of his writings than the determination of the nshitive dates of the 
 Fhcedo and Sijiiipostum or ev(m than the demonstration that the Sophist, Statesman 
 and Philebus follow rather than precede the Rcpnhlic. I am not arguing against 
 such a dating of the dialectical dialogues. I do not deny the value of the more vivid 
 conception that we gain of Plato's later mood and manner by combining and compar- 
 ing the traits of these dialogues with those of the Laws and Timams. This is no 
 ap^o<; Xoyo^ directed against all sober critical investigation of the difficult problem of 
 Plato's chronology. But the attempt to base such a chronology on the variations and 
 developments of Plato's doctrine has led to an exaggeration of Plato's inconstancy that 
 violates all sound principles of literary interpretation and is fatal to all genuine intelli- 
 gence of his meaning. The implicit canon of this method is that variation in literary 
 machinery and expression mvist be assumed to imply divergence or contradiction in 
 thought. To this I wish to oppose an interpretation based on the opposite canon: 
 that we are to assume contradiction or serious alteration in Plato's thought only in 
 default of a rational literary or psychological explanation of the variation in the form 
 of its expression. As Professor Maguire says in his foi-gotten but very acute essays 
 on the Platonic ethics: ''If we are anxious to find out inconsistencies in appearance, 
 we shall find them in abundance. Biit the student of Plato will perhaps discover that 
 it is more fruitful, because more philosophical to commence with the points of agree- 
 ment." The ultimate test of the two methods must lie in the appeal to specific texts 
 and contexts, and there will be no lack of this in the following pages. But by way of 
 preparation it is first advisable to eniimerate some of the general features of Plato's 
 writings that make the sane and simple literary interpretation of his meaning so diffi- 
 cult and so rare. 
 
 1. Plato is not only a thinker, but also a dramatic artist and an impassioned moral 
 and religious teacher. Although, as Schopenhauer says, he is really the most severe 
 and consistent of logicians, and holds the threads of his design in an iron hand, his 
 dramatis personae affect to follow whither the argument blows,^ and he often seems 
 more concerned to edify or entertain than to demonstrate and conclude. Wherever 
 his sesthetic or moral preferences are involved he cavils on terminology and breaks 
 into seemingly irrelevant eloquent digressions in a Kuskinian fashion sorely puzzling 
 to those not in sympathy with his mood. If forced to accept the substance of a repug- 
 nant theory, he translates it into language more consonant with his feelings. This 
 peculiar mixture of rhetoric and logic, of edification and science, misleads both the 
 sentimentalist and the scientific puritan. The one often mistakes the ornament for 
 the substance, the other distrusts perfectly sound reasoning because of his distaste 
 for its emotional accompaniment. 
 
 Again, Plato stimulates our own speculation in so many ways that wo are apt to mis- 
 take the drift of his meanings not because it is not clearly defined, but because we abandon 
 
 = Not only in the earlier dialogues, but in Rep., 394 D ; Thecetet., 172 D ; Lmvs, 667 A. 
 
 131
 
 6 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 it to pursue our own. The clever essayist tells us what he himself thought a propos of 
 this or that brilliant suggestion. The investigator too often begins by selecting a few 
 detached notions and formulas as adequately representative of each dialogue, and then 
 proceeds to juggle with ingenious combinations of these and the interpretations put 
 upon them by his predecessors. Neither interprets Plato's real thoughts as they lie 
 open to any competent reader ■w'ho will patiently study him to the end and report the 
 things on which he lays most stress. ° 
 
 2. In the second place, Plato's dramatic quality affects not only the artistic setting 
 and the personages, but the ideas which he brings upon the stage. Plato's serious 
 meaning detaches itself with perfect distinctness for the faithful student. But the 
 hasty reader is more likely than not to receive as Platonic ideas that have a purely 
 dramatic significance ; or that are falsified by isolation from their context.' And the 
 investigator in pursuit of a thesis too often attributes specifically to Protagoras, 
 Antisthenes, Euclid, or Isocrates ideas that Plato has generalized and decked out 
 beyond all recognition, as representatives of the spirit of the age. 
 
 Again, arguing for victory, the maintenance of a thesis in jest to test an oppo- 
 nent's metal or display one's own ingenuity was a common practice in the world which 
 Plato depicts, and is frequently illustrated in his writings. The Platonic Socrates, 
 under cover of an ironical profession of ignorance, employs a similar method to 
 expose showy pretenders to universal knowledge, to produce a salutary conviction of 
 ignorance, or to stimulate youthful thought, and prepare the way for a more serious 
 analysis by an exposition of the antinomies latent in conventional opinions. It fol- 
 lows that the ostensible failure to conclude an argument, the avowal of bewilderment 
 and perplexity, the admission even of positive fallacies of logic in any given dialogue 
 prove nothing as to the stage of development of Plato's own thought at the time. The 
 hypothesis that the fallacy was intentional, and that the avopia was affected for a 
 purpose, has at least an equal claim to be tested by all the probabilities in each case. 
 
 3. Expositors of Plato seem strangely oblivious of the limits thus far set to all 
 systems of philosophy. They treat as peculiar defects of Plato the inconsistencies 
 which they detect in his ultimate metaphysics after they have elaborated it into a 
 rigid system which he with soimd instinct evaded by poetry and myth. They 
 habitually write as if they themselves and their intelligent readers were in possession 
 of a final philosophy which reconciles all conflicting claims of metaphysical analysis 
 and common sense, and fi"om the heights of which they may study merely as a his- 
 torical phenomenon Plato's primitive fumbling with such problems as the nature of 
 
 6 Such a reader is Bonitz for the most part in his ad- were intended seriously, and not a few continue to quote 
 
 mirabie analyses. ThetEtet.^ 156 ff., as Platonic doctrine. Under this head 
 
 TA notable example is Herbert Spencer's inference fall most of the " fallacies " discovered in Plato: those of 
 
 from TJcp., 339 D, that Plato, like Hobbes, makes state 'he Parmcnidcs, which, as wo shall see, are intentional; 
 
 enactments the source of right. So President Eliot has 'hose of the Oorniae, dramatically justifiable against the 
 
 been recently misled by Zei.lee's misuse of Bep., 421 A extreme thesis maintained by Callicles; those of Hep., I, 
 
 U-hil. dcr Gnechcn. 1th ed., Vol. II, No. 1, p. 890), to prove 333 E, and 349 B, which Zeller (p. 652) thinks Plato did not 
 
 that Plato would not educate the masses. Many scholars perceive, 
 still seem to think that the etymologies of the Cratyliu 
 
 132
 
 Paul Shorey 
 
 universals, the antinomy of unity and plurality in thought and things," the relation of 
 mind and body, the possibility of a consciousness of self or a knowledge of knowl- 
 edge, the proof of immortality, the freedom of the will, the difficulty of conceiving or 
 defining good except in relation to evil, the alternative of excepting thoroughgoing 
 relativism and phenomenalism or of positing a noumenon that cannot be described or 
 brought into intelligible relation with phenomena. We are told that he has "keino 
 Ableitung des Sinnlichen," as if there were somewhere extant a satisfactory deduction 
 of the sensible world from some higher metaphysical principle. It is objected that 
 the relation of the ideas to the Deity is undefined, and that the personality of God is 
 not investigated, as if any results could follow from an attempt to define the relation 
 of the metaphysical noumenon to the Deity, or from an investigation of the person- 
 ality of God. The absence of a complete table of categories is taken as a defect in 
 Plato's system or as a proof of the immaturity of the Phcedrus, as if the Aristotelian 
 and Kantian categories were not mere illusions of the metaphysical instinct, and Plato 
 was not far wiser in proposing only such categories and classifications as the argument 
 in hand required. 
 
 A chief merit of Plato is that he clearly recognizes and sharply defines the limits 
 of scientific thought in these matters. When the interests of the moral and relieious 
 life, as he conceives them, are at stake he resorts to myth to express his hopes and 
 aspirations. Where the epistemological problem compromises the foundations of prac- 
 tical certainty and sound method, he arbitrarily postulates the solution that will best 
 serve his chief purpose — the extrication of a practicable working logic from the hope- 
 less dialectical muddle of his time. But he is always careful to distinguish his neces- 
 sary practical postulates from his mythical and metaphysical assumptions.' The 
 dogmatism of his later works has been as much exaggerated as the Socratic doubt of 
 the minor dialogues.'" 
 
 4. As a fourth caiise of misapprehension we may count a certain quaint and curious 
 subtlety in the use of abstraction and antithesis characteristic of all Greek writers, but 
 carried to its farthest extreme in Plato. His reasoning often proceeds by what 
 seem to us excessively minute verbal links. This is generally thought to mean 
 merely that the modern mind has learned to abridge the formal process by taking some 
 things for granted. But it is often due to Plato's anxiety to anticipate the cavils and 
 quibbles of the age before logic ; or his wish to bring out neglected shades of meaning. 
 Again, Plato, like all serious reasoners, employs unreal abstractions to express 
 ideals and test hypotheses by extreme cases." But in addition to this the Platonic 
 Socrates meets a fallacious and fantastic abstraction from the conditions of reality, not 
 
 8 Astonishment is often expressed at the attention apodictic replies in the 'later" works proves nothing that 
 bestowed by Plato upon the problem of the one and the is not already involved in the fact that they are not dra- 
 many, as it, transferred to psychologj', it were not still matic disputations. A consenting respondent naturally 
 the crux of all our metaphysics. gives "apodictic " answers. 
 
 9 Meno, 86 B ; Phcedr., 252 C, 265 C, 274 C ; Rep., 416 B C, he. g., the isolation of pleasure and intelligence in 
 517 B, 506 C. Phileb., 21, to which Grote objects. 
 
 10 Tim., 72 D, Laws, 641 D, 799D,J<12A. The percentage of 
 
 133
 
 The Unity of Platu's Thought 
 
 by exposing the fallacy, but by translating all the real facts into the language of 
 abstraction. There is no real fallacy in such procedure, but a sense of fallacy results 
 for the modern reader.'' Allied to this is the use or abuse of antithesis. Opposite 
 views are first stated with ruthless consistency in their most abstract and extreme 
 form. And the truth is approached through a series of compromises and mediations.''' 
 Dramatically, Plato is right. This is the course of discussion among ordinary men in 
 all ages. But the elaborate refutations which Plato thinks fit to give of the cnidest 
 form of hostile theories sometimes produces an impression of unfairness upon modern 
 critics." They forget two things : first, that he always goes on to restate the theory 
 and refute its fair meaning ; second, that in the case of many doctrines combated by 
 Plato there is no evidence that they ever were formulated with the proper logical quali- 
 fications except by himself.'^ 
 
 5. In the fifth place, and finally, we may mention the difficulty of confining 
 the infinite variety and suggestiveness of Plato's thoughts in the framework of 
 any system either of philosophy or of exposition. It is possible to present 
 Plato's ethical and social ideals in a fairly systematic r4sum6. The theory of 
 ideas may be restated in the Platonic terminology, which does not teach us much, 
 or analyzed in relation to the underlying psychological and ontological problems. 
 Special chapters might be written on Plato's attitude toward inchoate physical science, 
 the temper in which he faced the religious problems of an age of transition, his portrayal 
 and criticism of the literary and artistic life of his time. But a complete system 
 of philosophy with principles subordinate, derivative, and interdependent, and a fixed 
 technical terminology, cannot be extracted from the Platonic writings. This will not 
 greatly grieve those who are aware of the perfect futility of all such system-building, 
 even when the architect possesses the genius of a Spinoza, a Kant, or a Schopen- 
 hauer. But the expositor of Plato can hardly avoid attempting to cast his exposition 
 into some systematic form, and the recalcitrance of his material is to him a serious 
 problem. No method is quite satisfactory. The atomism of Grote, Jowett, Bonitz, 
 and Horn, that treats each dialogue as an isolated unit, is the renunciation of all 
 method. The clever attempts of a succession of French expositors to deduce all Platon- 
 ism symmetrically from a few principles are more ingenious than convincing."" The 
 exhaustive schematism of Zeller, applied alike to all philosophers from Thales to 
 Plotinus, is philologically a masterly achievement of German erudition. But, thoiigh 
 
 '2£. g., in Rep., I, 346, the separation of niaBanK^, tlie 4J1K, 433 B, 489 D. Similar is tlie treatment of Homo Men- 
 
 wage-earning power, from the other functions of each art sura in the Protngoras, and the claim of pleasure to be the 
 
 and craft. chief good in the Philebus. 
 
 ^^ Pkllcbun, Thcwtctufi, Rep.., 1 and 11, Qorgias. ij Plato may have found hints and suggestions of the 
 
 i» ^ p., in the Crati/lm. 38.5 A, the theory that lauguage ^'o™*' •"> brings on tlie stage in Euripides and the Sophists 
 
 is a mere convention is first stated in the most extreme (DUmmlke, Prolegomena zu PlaUms Staat). But so far as 
 
 form. In the Oorgias a long argument is spent to drive "« ■"«>"• '"' '^ f^" "ifst thinker who could present a com- 
 
 Callicles from a position which he affirms was assumed in P'o*" logical statement of any philosophical theory in all 
 
 jest (499 B). In Rep., .TiSC, Thrasyniachus's definition of ''^ bearings. 
 
 justice is taken in a grotesquely unfair sense in order to I'lSee my review of Hal^vv, TlU-orie platonicienne ties 
 
 force him to state it more clearly. C/. Laws, 714 C; Gorg., sciences, Philosophical Review, Vol. V, p. .522. 
 
 134
 
 Paul HuoREY 9 
 
 rarely admitting gross and palpable errors, Zeller's exposition frequently misses the 
 true proportions, perspective, and enipliasis tliat would bo brought out by a more 
 flexible literary and philosophic interpretation. 
 
 The present study, though it touches on most topics of the Platonic philosophy, 
 does not attempt a complete historical survey. Some subjects I have discussed else- 
 where. There are many details (in the Laws and TimcvAis, c. (j.) which would be 
 irrelevant to the main purpose of emphasizing the unity of Plato's thought. The order 
 of presentation adopted after many attempts is a compromise between the systematic 
 and the atomistic. The Platonic ethics, the theory of ideas, and an outline of the 
 psychology will first be sot forth as a whole. A group of logical and metaphysical 
 problems will be discussed in connection with the Sophist and Parmeuides. Other 
 topics and some repetitions from a different point of view will follow in a survey of the 
 principal dialogues taken one by one. 
 
 I. ETHICS 
 
 The chief topics of the Platonic ethics are these: (1) the Socratic paradoxes; 
 (2) the definition of the virtues, and, more particularly, the determination of their 
 relation to a postulated supreme science or art, to happiness, to the political or royal 
 art, to the idea of good; (3) the problem of hedonism; and (4), associated with it, 
 the attempt to demonstrate the inseparability of virtue and happiness." 
 
 1. Plato always formally maintained that all wrongdoing is involuntary;" that 
 virtue is insight or knowledge, is in its essence one, and can in some sense be taught." 
 Sometimes he merely dramatically illustrates the conflicts that arise between these 
 paradoxes and common-sense. Elsewhere, most explicitly in the Laws,'" but by impli- 
 cation even in the minor dialogues, he reveals his perception that these propositions 
 can be reconciled with experience only by the conscious employment of words in a 
 special sense."' Wrongdoing is involuntary (1) because all men will the good or what 
 they deem the good;" (2) because no man who knows the right will do the wrong, if 
 we take knowledge in the highest sense, or refuse the term to any cognition that does 
 not control the will;^' (3) because the conditions that shape conduct lie far more in 
 heredity, education, and environment than in our conscious wills." The contradiction 
 noted by Aristotle between this charitable principle and the edifying proclamation 
 " virtue is free," '■'" is emotional rather than scientific.^^ The modern free-will contro- 
 versy arises out of two conceptions not connected with this problem by Plato: the 
 
 1' These are, as a matter of fact, the chief topics of the 20689 D, 696C, 710 A, '^v ns ireni'ui'oir iy Aeyoi, ij)pd>'i)(7ii' 
 
 ethical dialogues. If we base Plato's ethics on the idea of iTpoaavayicd^<,jv tlyai to au<ffpovilv. 
 
 good, or on any other metaphysical principle or schema- 21 Laches, 196 E; Laches, mE. iySp^lot e- iiioyaU, 
 
 tism, we shaU distort his meanings. p^. ia™, 633 D K, and Rep., 429D; Rep., 443 E, 444Ai 
 
 i»Xen., Mem., 3, 9, 4; 4, 6, 6; ApoL, 26 A; Protag., S45D, Thewtet., 176 C; Polit., 306 A. 
 358CD: Jl/eno, 77,78; Cors., 466 E, 467 B=fiep.,577E=iaj™, 22Meno,n; Euthydem.,Zi9; Symp.,m.^; Gorg..m. 
 
 688B;ieep., 382A('!), 413A(t),492E(?),589C: PA«eh., 22B 
 Soph., 228C, 230A; Tim., 86D; Laws, 731 C, 734 B, 860 D. 
 
 3P)o(o3., 3.J2B; iaics, 689; rAea;(c(., 176C. 
 
 i9£««Aj/dem., 282C; Lauis, 644A, ii oV y^ ip*"? ire,ra.5ev- 2* Tim., 86 D. 2'.Bep., 617E, iperi, Si <ii«nroTo,-. 
 
 Mevoi ffxt^o^* aya^oi yiyvovjai. 26 cf. my note in ^. J. P., Vol. X, p. 77. 
 
 135
 
 10 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 infinite foreknowledge of God, and the absolute continuity of physical causation. It 
 is, then, unprofitable to inquire whether Plato taught free-will or determinism." 
 But it should be distinctly noted that in the Lmcs he employs precisely the logic of 
 modern determinism to prove that the involuntary character of wrongdoing is com- 
 patible with the distinction for legal purposes of voluntary and involuntary acts.^' 
 
 Virtue is knowledge because it must be assumed to be a good, and the only certain 
 good, the only sure guide to the good use of what the world calls good, is knowledge." 
 Opinion and habit may often suffice to regulate action, but persistent right opinion 
 presupposes knowledge in its teachers, and the highest rule of conduct must be 
 deduced from and referred to a rational apprehension of ultimate good.^" Virtue is 
 one because each of the virtues is a form of knowledge,'' or because each, when taken 
 in the highest sense, involves all the others.'^ Virtue is teachable in the senses in 
 which knowledge and right opinion may be taught. The capacity for knowledge, the 
 divine faculty, is innate, but teaching and guidance may direct it toward the good.^^ 
 The ordinary virtues of habit and opinion may fairly be said to be taught when they 
 are systematically inculcated by superior wisdom enlisting all the forces of society in 
 its service.^* This is not the case at Athens, ^'^ and therefore the Platonic Socrates 
 alternately affirms and denies the possibility of teaching "virtue,"^'' and at the close 
 of the Meno declares that under present conditions it comes by a grace divine which 
 is equivalent to chance.^' 
 
 Plato uses, but is not himself confused lay, the Socratic analogy between the 
 virtues and the arts and sciences.^ That comparison, though it ignores the distinctively 
 ethical element, contains a certain measure of truth. In a sense, each of us is good 
 in that which he knows.'' Knowledge as ordinarily xmderstood is not virtue, but it 
 
 2'Zellee, p. 833; Jowett, Vol. Ill, pp. 408, 423. to knowledge, opinion is imparted iv rji iraiSeia, 429 C, i. e., 
 
 is virtually taught. 
 
 im. 
 
 28 861-864 C. The meaning of the passage, though often 
 
 misunderstood, is perfectly clear, and Plato warns us, 3<ieep., 500 D, 429CB; Poi/*., 309 D; Laws, pass 
 
 864B, not to cavU about the terminology. ^^ Rep., 492E; Tim., 87B; il/cno, 93Bff.; Protag.. 320; 
 
 2^Euthydem.. 281, 289; Menn, 88C. Cf. from another ^''P- 520B; £«HtypA>-o, 2CD: Gorg.. 521D: Apol., 24,25; 
 
 point of view Phcedo, 69 AB; Protag.. 356, 357, with Phileb., Laches, 179 CD. 
 
 tlE. ^f'Protag.; Metio; Euthyd.,2i2C (274E). 
 
 30 Jfeno, 97 B; Meno, 100 A, olos /<oi aAAor iroiicroi, etc. Cf. 37 For this interpretation of Sei.} mo'P» see Maociee, p. 
 
 Euthyd., 292 D; infra, p. 16: Laim, 931 B. 63, andZELLEE's full refutation of other views, p. 594, n. 4, 
 
 Hep., 492, 493. At present good men spring up ouro/iioToi 
 
 3il,acfte.s,- Protag.; Phcedo, 69 A B. Meno, 71 D ff., is (^^^^ 5,0 B; cf. Protag., 320 A; Euthyd., 282 0; even in 
 
 logical rather than ethical. The unity of iptr.; .3 postu- ^x^-.ous states, Laws, 951 B, i.i S.Joi t...« oh woAXo; 
 
 lated, like that of any other abstract idea, as a precondi- ^^i^^^„, ^i,^^ ^i^;^„„ -^ ei,.oMou^.Va« „6K.a.v h «ai ^i,. 
 
 tion of a definition. „„mi » ^. - . , . -^.i 
 
 3»The lesser Hipp^as (certainly by Plato) presents the 
 
 «2Gorg., 507A; Laws, 696C. There is a suggestion of fallacy initsmost paradoxical form (the voluntary lie better 
 
 this also in the (of course intentional, Bonitz, Platonic ^han the involuntary) and by its obvious irony (372 DE, 
 
 Studies, p. 265) faUacies of Protag., 330, 331. 370 C) shows that Plato " already " in the Socratic period 
 
 33A>cp., 518 B, 519 A. This apparently contradicts the does not take it seriously, but merely uses it for dramatic 
 
 statement of the Meno, 99 A, and Protag., 361 B, that J^i- ""■ Propasdoutic purposes. Zelleb, p. 597, takes this as 
 
 <rT>j^., alone can bo taught. But the objection is captious. Plato's real opinion, citing Sep., .53.5 D and 382, which 
 
 The Republic is satirizing tlio exaggerated claims of the merely use the paradoxical terminology to emphasize the 
 
 Sophists and is speaking of the faculty, not the content, of thought, acceptable to Mill or Huxley, that the mere iutel- 
 
 knowledgc. The whole higher education is a teaching of loctual love of truth (knowledge) ought to be counted a 
 
 knowledge in a sense. And, on the other hand, though v'"''"" as well as the ordinary virtue of truthfulness, 
 
 both Plato and Aristotle limit teaching in the strict sense 3i)i,ac/ies, 194D; Lysis, HOD: iie/)..349E. 
 
 1.S6
 
 Paul Siiokey 11 
 
 does away with many forms of wrongdoing. It is not courage, but the man who knows 
 how is less likely to be afraid.*" It is not aQ}cf>poavvr], but it is incompatible with many 
 forms of acfypoawT]. The wise man knows his own limits, and will imdertake only wliat 
 he can perform.*' Partly for these reasons, and partly because he. did not or, in ironical 
 assumption that others were even as himself, would not recognize that men know the 
 right and yet the wrong pursue, the Platonic Socrates seems to ignore the chief ethical 
 factor, a virtuous will, and argues that he who knows justice is just.*^ But such "fal- 
 lacies" are for Plato merely the starting-point of a fuller analysis. All knowledge is 
 good and commendable," but the supreme knowledge that may be identified with 
 "virtue" is plainly something different from the specialties of the arts and sciences.** 
 Courage, for example, apart from mere animal and temperamental fearlessness, may be 
 defined as knowledge of what is and is not to be feared. But this involves real knowl- 
 edge of good and evil, a complete ideal of life, either that of the Sophists and average 
 Athenian opinion, or that unfolded by Plato himself in the Republic. The attempt to 
 define courage in the absence of these distinctions merely illustrates the inadequacy 
 of conventional ethical thought.*'^ 
 
 The effective application to these problems of the obvious distinction between 
 science and right opinion requires the larger canvas of the Republic. And even then 
 it remains true that the courage most worthy of the name implies a complete philo- 
 sophic mastery of the conception of life that educates the masses in such right opinion.*' 
 Plato tacitly assumes that this supreme knowledge will be inseparable from the vir- 
 tuous will in his philosophic statesmen as it is in Socrates.*' And thus on this higher 
 plane the Socratic paradox becomes true again. 
 
 It matters little to the consistency and unity of Plato's thought whether we 
 regard this harmony of the intellect and the will as a mere ideal or as a practicable 
 postulate realized in Socrates and to be fulfilled by others in a reformed society. The 
 distinction once drawn, the ideal once affirmed, Plato can afPord to make concessions 
 to common-sense. He can admit that in present experience a kind of bravery is 
 
 ^'^ Laches^ 193: Protag., 350. * between the desires .ind the ethical convictions the grossest 
 
 *i Xen., Mem., 2, 2, 24; Charm., 171 DE; Ale, 1, 11" DE; for™ "' " ignorance." 
 
 Sophist, 229 C ; Laics, 732 A. <3 Protag., 318 B ; Laches, 182 D. 
 
 42Go)-p., 460B. The fallacy, so tar as it is one, is in- " CAarm., 165C; £tt«ftj/dem.,2S2E, 290; Protaff., 311, 312, 
 
 tentional. Observe Kara tovtqv Tbi* \6yov, and the explana- 319 A; Laws, 961 E ff. 
 
 tion in Rep., 438 D E, that the knowledge of health, though 45 j^^^^^ . p,.giag_^ 349^ 350, 360 D ; Eep., 429, 430. 
 differentiated from knowledge in general, is not neces- 
 sarily healthful. Cf. also the recognition of common-sense ** The courage defined in 429 C is only ^oAiT.«i.. ye. Cf. 
 in 444D, TO ^iv i^K<L,a wpiTTiiv Sc^a.offiir,^ JM^oi.r. But for ^l''"'^'' Vf. Laws, 710A; Polit., 309E; Phcedo, 82A. There 
 the broad purposes of the argument of the Gorgias it is "re, strictly speaking, three or four grades; brute animal 
 true (460 E) that rhetoric, if reaUy the science of the just, courage, the courage of soldiers and citizens in ordinary 
 could not be the instrument of injustice which Gorgias s'^tes, the citizen courage of the Platonic state, the philo- 
 with unconscious immorality complacently represented it sophic ccmrage. 
 
 to be. Socrates is olos tCiv t^wi- ^>j6eci aAAw nfidetrdai, r) Ta> 47 This harmony is the chief point in the selections and 
 
 K6y^,Crito, 46B; cf. Lathes, 188DE; Gori;., 488 A. Hence, tests applied to them; Rep., 485, 486, 539Dff. Cf. Polit., 
 
 as Aristotle (Eth. nic, 7, 2, 1), quoting Protag., 352 B, says, 309 .iB. The Laws emphasize character, as compared with 
 
 he thought it monstrous that any other impulse in man intellect, still more, and preserve the identity of the moral 
 
 should prevail over his better knowledge. And Plato in and the intellectual "which are ever dividing, but must 
 
 his latest work refuses the term " knowledge " to any belief ever be reunited " ( Jowett), by reserving the word " wise " 
 
 that does not control the will, and pronounces discord for the virtuous, 689 D. 
 
 137
 
 12 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 found dissociated from the other virtues.*' He can allow the word (TQ)4>po(Tvvr) to be 
 used merely for the instinctive temperamental moderation in appetite that is the for- 
 tunate endowment of some children and animals." He can recognize that knowledge, 
 or at least quickness and acumen of thought, is not infrequently associated with 
 intemperance and injustice.'" But he prefers to translate the facts into a more edify- 
 ing terminology. Conventional virtue is a worthless currency unless redeemable and 
 redeemed by and in the coin of wisdom.*' And, on the other hand, we will refuse the 
 name of wise to him whose will does not follow his judgment of right; and we mil 
 grant it to the man who knows enough to obey his acquired belief in the good rather 
 than the innate promptings of appetite, though he know not how to swim or recite 
 the alphabet.*^ 
 
 2. Plato found the suggestion of the cardinal virtues and of the predominance of 
 justice in the poets. He also mentions 6o-(o'tj;?" and /xeyaXoTrpeTreia, the latter some- 
 times with irony .'** But the number four was consecrated by its incorporation in the 
 scheme of the Repiihlic. This implies no change of doctrine. Even in the Republic 
 other virtues are mentioned."^ And in the Euthyphro it is hinted that piety is a form 
 of justice."" 
 
 Plato would always recognize piety as one of the chief virtues, or perhaps as a 
 synonym of all virtue," and he would always shrink from giving so problematical a 
 concept a place in a scientific scheme.'* 
 
 Several of the minor dialogues turn on the attempt to define the virtues and allied 
 notions. The Laches and Charmides are both Socratic quests for definition — of 
 courage in the one case, of temperance in the other. Both involve the antithesis of 
 the quiet and the energetic temperament.'" Both terminate in perplexity — in the 
 puzzle that, if any one virtue is identified with the supreme knowledge that will make 
 
 *8 Protagoras maintains this view, Prolog. ^ 350, and is of piety, I should accept that of Bonitz as formulated by 
 
 not answered by Socrates, who refutes him only indirectly Professor Heidel (introduction to his edition of Eulhy- 
 
 by the proof that all virtue is one — the science of measur- phro, p. 24). It is the endeavor to realize the good felt as 
 
 ing pleasure and pain. But the obvious fact of experience the service of God, and as a willed co-operation with Him. 
 
 is presumably as clear to Plato when he allows Protagoras But this is a mood in relation to, or an emotional synonym 
 
 to state it as when it is! enunciated more explicitly in the of, all virtue. It is not one aspect of virtue which it is 
 
 PoliticvA, 306 B, or the Lawn, 631 C Zelleb (p.599) incom- necessary to distinguish in relation to a special field of 
 
 prehensibly affirms that the plurality in unity of virtue is conduct or a particular classification of the faculties of 
 
 found only in the Republic ! the soul. 
 
 I'Lnics, "lOAB. 68The suggestion that the Eutliyphro "eliminates" 
 
 '.'I' Rep., 519 A; Laivs, 689 D, oaa irpbt ri^o^ t^i •I'^xv^; piety, and that the Jl/cjio may be dated by its recognition 
 
 Thewlet. 176 C. of 6<rion)t ("8 D) is utterly fantastic. 
 
 iiPftOifZo., 69B. ^■^ Cf. Charm., 159 Bff., with Polit. 307 A B. Tcmpera- 
 
 ,.» r oon T^ • • " ^* -Ti J < TOeut Is uot vlrtuc, but is the basis of the seeming opposi- 
 
 2 Laws, 689 D, ^,re ypa^^ara ^,r. v.... Cf. Thec,tel., ^.^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ temperance (PolU.. .306, 307 ; Rep., 
 
 ,6C,T.,ov.a5.,o>„.r. . . . ^a.p^ op.ar .x» to m^ <r.yxa,p... ^^^ ^ ^^^.^ ^^^^,^ ^^. ^^ ^^^ g_ ^.3 j, ^^^^, ^^^^^^^ 
 
 6tivu> vTTo navovpyta^ fit-aL. Ihe Whole passage IS in the „,„_, v, •• it , r it.i-j-*-*- 
 
 . , , . ^. , 319EI. Nicias and Laches, for want of this distinction, 
 
 mood and temper of the A-a;rs. . ^ . .. , o * « 11 ♦* ^;^.. 
 
 maintain opposite paradoxes. Socrates calls our attention 
 
 '-^Protag., 329 C; .Weno, 78 D; Laches, 199 D. t„ this by attributing to Nicias the doctrine onoiiui Xt'oixa 
 
 '-^Menn, 74 A ; iSc;j.. 560E. In Meiu>, m X, tiniOt^a and «<ii «"Aa^oi- .... irpbt ii.«p€.ar-.rti(>u»<i'»i (196 E). In the He- 
 
 ^iqM are included. puhlic (4,30 B), Plato chooses to deny the term " bravery" 
 
 to mere animal courage. In the Laws, 963 E. he attributes 
 
 .■.r.402C,.A<«9«pc<,T„,^.yaAoTp.>e.a:j30A. ^ ^.^^ ^j courage to children and animals. But i^o.ws 
 
 ^'•C/. also /'ro<«M., .331 A. 7r<*u««i'ai pointedly ignores the distinction of tempera- 
 
 ^' If it were desiniblo to produce a Platonic definition ment. 
 
 138
 
 Paul Shokey 13 
 
 us happy, the distinction between th(i virtues vanishes;'" or in tli(^ tautology that the 
 knowledge that is good is knowledge* of th(« go(xl.''' 
 
 It is often assumed (1) that Plato was serious in these attempts to express by a 
 phrase or a substituted synonym the essence of a virtue and the various and contradic- 
 tory meanings of its conventional name; (2) that the failure and pretended perplexity of 
 Socrates at the close mark the point reached by Plato's own thought at the time. This 
 is a priori, conceivable. But the following consitlcrations make it highly improbable: 
 
 o) Plato, in this unlike Xenophon,"" always proceeds as if he were aware of the 
 true theory and use of the definition and of tht; multiple meanings of .ethical terms. 
 All attempts in his writings to work out absolute and isolated detinitioiis fail." His 
 own deiinitions, when not mere illustrations,"* are always working hy[)otheses"' or 
 epigrammatic formulas, subordinate -to and interpreted by the argument of which 
 they form a part, and recognized as imperfect, but sufficient for the pur[)ose in haud.''° 
 The definitions of the virtues in Rep., -i'i'.* ff. cannot be understood apart from their 
 context, and are never used again. They are declared to be a mere sketch — 
 inroypa(f)ijj>, 50-4 0."' How shall we explain this on the supposition that he was under 
 any illusion as to the value of absolute and isolated definitions V 
 
 b) Plato repeatedly refers in a superior way to eristic, voluntary and involuntary,''' 
 and more particularly to the confusion, tautology, and logomachy into which the vulgar 
 fall when they attempt to discuss abstract and ethical problems."' Some of these 
 allusions touch on the very perplexities and fallacies exemplified in the minor 
 dialogues.™ They do not imply that Plato himself had ever been so confused." W^iy 
 should we assume that he deceives us in order to disguise his changes of oj^inion, or 
 
 60 Larftes, 199 E. dialogufs cures. Cf. Meno,f,lAB. So SopA., 232 A B, gives 
 
 61 C/iarm., 174 B; cf. Rep., M'l B C — a connection gener- the rainnn d'etre of passages iGorrjias, Protag., Ion) in 
 ally missed. which a pretender to universal knowledge is pressed for a 
 
 62 The Xenophontic Socrates perceives no difficulties, specific definition of his function which he naturally is 
 is never in doubt, and propounds dogmatically such defini- unable to give. 
 
 tioDS as voii^fiop = iUaiov, Mem., lY,i, 12. '"iPotit., 306 ff., especially 306 .A, to v«P optTij? (icpo! 
 
 63 Except the not quite serious definitions reached by "P"'' "*" «'«'*'°(>°'' "-«' ■^""' ''P"'""' "'' "P'- '^"ivoit iM*'<;-/3i- 
 dichotomy in the SophM and roliticus. Cf. Charmides, """ '" ''"■^' '"""«""- "P" ^^^ ■'-" ""A*"- ^J"'. Cf. Laws, 
 Laches, Lysis, Meno, Thea'telus, Euthyphro, Hippias Major. ^-'^ ^' .ua^.i^o^v. 19 .... pw"'''"'' irpo, to.- t^p ttoAAo,;- Aoyo... 
 
 6<Taxo5, Laches, 192 B; <rxw«, Meno, i5, 16; :i.iAo5, .^ ' ' ,T \ .^ ,-. ri« ^^ r 
 
 mi ^j ,,nr, ■•, 1 ■ I .lAo T-v with reference to the arguments of Goro., 4(4 C ti. Cf.Laws, 
 
 Thea-tel. , \Vl C ; r\Ki.o-:, ibid., lOiY). ■ . " -^ ' _ . ^ 
 
 ^ . ^ „ ^ I,., T r, 837 A, with reference to the problem of the Lt/sts; Laws, 
 
 ' 1 A- ^ . f- r J (jgj g gg, ggg jji^jj J} ^'heretho paradox of Gorn., ittl, 
 
 fir. IP ^ i_- ; 1..,..,:.^ ....... ^., ^:!i...iL.... r:n..r, It^'i T\ Ki.t- „ . . •. . ,. . 
 
 6C£.p.,p,rc.p.«i, = ,roA.Ti»^?popcoue;6u,Ao^,Go)-g.,463D,but reaffirmed, ei ^ir ^ov\ta9t i,, ^a.i-u,r, ei 6' it aKovBiC<"y; 
 
 in Phwdr., 2G1A, .^..x«V"y"' "' «'i Wy<o-. Cf. the defini- flep«6i,c, 505 B. with Cftcirm., 173E-174B; Ecp., 50.JC,with 
 
 tions of <r<«*poffi)..7,, Phadr., 237 E. g^,.^^ 499 ^ ^.j^g^g Callicles is forced to admit that some 
 
 61 The Laws repeats the substance of the definition of pleasures are bad. Zellee(p. 604) thinks that Ecp., 505 C, 
 
 justice, 863 E: t'w yip toO Su^oO . . . . «al en-iSKM'ii' iv 'livxv refers to the Philehtis. But the advocates of a late date 
 
 TupaiTiSa .... iri^To.? iSiKiar irpoeriyopevio. Cf. 689 A B, to f^^ ^^^g Philehus rightly deny any specific parallel. 
 
 7dp Aviroiipevo.. «cii ijSdpewo.' auT^5 (sc. T.",? ^ivx^i^) S".? Sw"! !i Even after the Republic and Politicus, Plato in Laws, 
 
 Tt „a, .tA^os n6\i:^t ianr. Cf. Rep., 442 A, o Si, irAticTor t^s gggg _ approaches the problem of the "political art" and 
 
 v^XV^, etc. jjjg unity of virtue precisely in the manner of the tentative 
 
 68 Rep., 454A; Philcb., 14C, iKoiai re Kai iKovo-i..; The- dialogues. There is no reason for taking seriously Socrates"s 
 cetet., 206 B, e«o.'Ta ^ oKOKTa TTMit^v; Theo'tet., 167 E; dramatic bewilderment as to the "political art" in i:u(h!/- 
 Sophist, 259 D ; already in Lysis, 216 A B. Cf. infra, p. 19. ^em., 292 D E, that would not apply equally to the avowal of 
 
 69 Pfecedr., 237 C, 263, and, from a slightly different point ignorance in Lait-s, 963 B, or in the Poliiicus itself, 292 C. 
 of view. Rep., 538 D; Phc^do, 90 C. This is largely due to a The political art, i.e., ultimate ethical and social "good," 
 false conceit of knowledge, Pha-dr., 237 C, which the Elen- was always a problem to Plato, as it must be to any 
 chus as described iQ.Sop/i.,230B, and practised in the minor thoughtful, conscientious man (Rep., 451 A). In the Latcs, 
 
 139
 
 14 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 obliterate the traces of his mental growth? Have we not a right to expect dramatic 
 ilhistration of so prominent a feature in the intellectual life of the time, and do we not 
 find it in the Laches, CItarmides, Lysis, and the corresponding parts of the Pro- 
 tacjoras? In brief, the Euthtjdemus, 211, 278; Phcednis, 261, 262; the Thcceictiis, 
 167 E; the Republic, 454, 487 BC; the Sophist, 230 B, 251 B, 259 C, and Philebus, 
 20 A, 15 E, show a clear consciousness of dialectic, not merely as a method of truth, 
 but as a game practiced for amusement or eristic, to purge the conceit of ignorance 
 or awaken intellectual curiosity. When we find this game dramatically illustrated 
 why should we assume naive unconsciousness on Plato's part ? 
 
 o) The Republic, in which Plato explicitly states his solution of these problems, 
 is a marvelous achievement of mature constructive thoiight. But the ideas and dis- 
 tinctions required for the solution itself are obvious enough, and it is absurd to affirm 
 that they were beyond the reach of a thinker who was capable of composing the Pro- 
 taf/oras,'' the subtle Lysis and Cliarmides, or the eloquent and ingenious Gorgias. 
 That the highest rule of conduct must be based upon complete insight and is the 
 possession of a few; that the action of the multitude is determined by habit and 
 belief '^ shaped under the manifold pressure of tradition and public opinion ; that the 
 virtues may be differently defined according as we refer them to knowledge or to 
 opinion and habit ; that opinion in the Athens of the Sophists and of the Peloponne- 
 sian war was not guided by true philosophy, and therefore was not the " right opinion" 
 which should become the fixed habit of the populace in a reformed society ; that the 
 Sophists who professed to teach virtue taught at the best conformity to the desires 
 and opinions of the many-headed beast, and that therefore in the proper sense virtue 
 was not taught at all at Athens;'* that virtue is one regarded as knowledge, or as the 
 spiritual harmony resulting from perfect self-control (443 E), but many as expressing 
 the opposition of contrasted temperaments and different degrees of education; and 
 that endless logomachies result from the inability of the average disputant to grasp 
 these and similar distinctions ''" — these are reflections that might present themselves to 
 any intelligent yoiing man who had listened to Socrates, and surveyed the intellectual 
 life of the time, though only the genius of Plato could construct a Republic from 
 them. They could occur to Plato at the age of thirty or thirty-five as well as at forty 
 or forty-five ; and it is extremely naive to assume that so obvious a distinction as that 
 between science and opinion, familiar to every reader of Parmenides, and employed to 
 })ring the Meiio to a ])lausible dramatic conclusion, was a great scientific discovery, 
 marking an epoch in Plato's thought." 
 
 964 £f., as in the Republic, he finally limits himself to imli- n Rep., i92, 493. 
 
 catinj^ the kiud of training that will prepare the mind to ''.> Lnws, 964 A, Sioi'ooO ik w« ipiav ita\ hnjj rirTapa ot-ra 
 
 apprehend it best. But as against the ideals of Athenian kv e<7Tt, Kal c/xe 6e a^iov, aov Stifai-rot ii>s eV, TraAo- on^ 
 
 st>phists and politicians, his beliefs were defined "already " TirTapa. 
 
 in the Euthyiihro,2C, and the Gorgiaa, 40,3 D ff., 521 D. 7oNot to dwell on the resemblance of Mcno, 99 C, and 
 
 '-'"One of the finest specimens of analysis in all his Apnlogy, 22 C (c/. also the /on), why, if riato has no dra- 
 
 writings."— John .Stuabt Mill, DiSHCrtatio^is and Discus- niatic reserves, is opB-ij 66$a ignortnl in the Kuthydcmusf Or 
 
 sions. Vol. IV, p. 200. is the Eulhydcmus, with its mature logic and its assump- 
 
 I'Phcedo, 82 A; Kep., 522 A, 619C; Law>, 966C. tiou that virtue can be taught, earlier than the Jfeiio? 
 
 110
 
 Paul Shorey 15 
 
 (1) Lastly tho structuro and logic of the minor dialogues are indicative of dramatic 
 design rather than of tentative inquiry. The systematic evolution of tin; argument 
 and of the antitheses which it involves;" the emphasis laid on the very difficulties 
 elucidated by the latter theory;'" the reserves and qualifications of the argument and 
 the hints of dramatic purpose" — all j)oint to Plato's possession of the clue. The argu- 
 ment based on the absence from the "Socratic" dialogues of certain features of the 
 longer works begs the point at issue. 
 
 Assuminsr that Plato undertook to illustrate in brief dramatic discussions the 
 ethical logomachies of tlie day, he would by hypothtssis as a rule abstain from Pytha- 
 gorean myths, criticism of pre-Socratic thinkers, demonstrations of inmiortality, psycho- 
 logical or physiological digressions, and dogmatic developments of his own philosophy. 
 It may be argued that such dramatic dialogues form as a whole an earlier group. It 
 cannot be maintained that they mark the stages of Plato's own progress.'"' The defini- 
 tions of the virtues proposed in the fourth book of the Rcpuhlic, interpreted by their 
 context, meet the dramatic difficulties of the Laches, Charmides, Protagords, and 
 Meno. Courage is not animal fearlessness, neither is it precisely knowledge of things 
 terrible and the reverse. But the courage to be expected of the masses in a reformed 
 state is the conservation by disciplined feeling of the opinion about things terrible or 
 not terrible inculcated by the possessors of such knowledge."' loxppoa-vvr] is not pre- 
 cisely quietness, nor doing one's own business, nor self-knowledge, though each of 
 these definitions emphasizes one of the shades of meaning which Greek usage assigned 
 to this "mixed mode." It is in man and state the willing acceptance by all the psychic 
 faculties and the corresponding classes in the population of a harmonious scale of 
 
 7' In the Charmides <ruj4>pocrvvr] is first defined by the the problem of good and evil, and the ultimate nature of 
 
 quiet temperament, 159 B, then by the associated modesty, desire and the good. 
 
 alS^,, 159 E, which is elsewhere its virtual synonym, Pro- 78 Note the repeated demand that it bo shown how o-u,*po. 
 
 lag., 322CDE: then by ri iavToi .piTT«.., 161 B, another ^„,,^ is a good. Charm.. 1390, 161 A, 16.5 D, 172 D, 171 B, with 
 
 rhetorical equivalent, Tim., 72 A, which, however, requires j;^^, 50. (.f. infra, p. 17. Also Laws. 710, when, even after 
 
 an interpretation that Critias is unable to give, even though ^^^^ Republic, it is recognized that au,*po,ru.., as the mere 
 
 assisted by a hint from Socrates (161 E). He cannot gen- p^^^j^^ conditio sine qua non of the usefulness of the active 
 
 eralize minding one's own business, »nd distinguish (1) the ^j^j^^^ ^^.^^^ ^.^-^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^.^_ ^g^i^_ ^^_ ^^^^ association 
 
 economic, (2) the social and political, (.3) the psychic ^j ^. .^^^^. „pi„„, ;„ igj ^,.^^^^ ^^^ division of labor, and 
 
 division of labor; Rep., 4«C. The formula is aUowed to ^^^^ j.^^^ ^3^ ^^ ^.^^.^ ^3^ g^ .^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^.^^.^^^ j^ 
 
 drop, and the equally ambiguous expression "self-knowl- ^^j^^^ ^^ ^^^j^ ^^.^^ ^^^ knowledge of things really terrible 
 
 edge" is substituted (161), which is found to involve puz- ^^^ j,^^ ^^^^^^^ j^ ^^^ ^^^ property of any craftsman even 
 
 zles that Critias can neither untie nor cut (c/. 167 A with .^ ^j^ ^^.^ g^j^^ ^^^ j^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ knowledge of final ends 
 
 il/eno, 80E; rfte(r«cf.,lS8A). which he cannot define -i.e., obviously the "poUtical art" 
 
 In the Laches, Laches insists exclusively on the torn- ^^ ^.j^^ j^^^ ^j good, 
 peramental aspect of bravery which opposes it to other 
 
 virtues, Nicias on the cognitive element which identifies it "CTarm., 160 B. eV ye toutou to5 Aoyov; the obvious de- 
 
 with them. Laches's theory tends to show how the virtues sign of humbling Critias, 162CD; Charmides's disbelief in 
 
 are many, that of Nicias how they are one (I-n!ra,963E ff.). Socrates 's ignorance, 176 B. C/. Phxdr., 262 D, it iv h 
 
 But neither can expound his own view completely, still less eiSijs to i\r)eh irpoffiraij'iui' e'l- Aoyois Trapoyot Toi>! axoi^oi-ras, 
 
 reconcile it with the truth of his adversary. They exemplify Laches's unfamiliarity with dialectic and the awakening 
 
 thelogomachy described in Po!i(.,3»>,. 307. This is the chief effect of the Elenchus upon him; 194 A B. 
 
 object of the dialogue, and not the reduction of all virtue g„^^ Ueberweg says (Untersuchungen. p. 280) : "Fur 
 
 to knowledge (Zeller), uo7 the unity of virtue (Horn), nor ^^^ VerstSndniss des Platonismus ist kaum ein anderer 
 
 even the establishment of the dehnition *po.a^o, «apr.p.« j^t^um gefahrlicher, als der, eine Zurflckhaltung, die 
 
 which Bonitz says is the only suggestion not disproved. pj^^^ ^^^ methodischen Griinden Qbte, mit einem Noch- 
 
 In the Lysis we begin with purely verbal quibbles, pass ^j^t^j^^i^ ^„ verwechseln." 
 
 to the suggestive antithesis of the attraction of like and 
 
 unlike in nature and man (-214, 215), and conclude with si iJep., 429C D, 442C 
 
 141
 
 16 
 
 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 subordination from higher to lower. '^'' It is thus the precondition and obverse aspect 
 of justice which is the fulfilment of its own function by each faculty and class — a 
 higher than the economic division of labor in the soul and in society.'^ These defini- 
 tions are stated in terms of being ratlier than of doing, and Plato preferred this form 
 of statement to the viuV* But he is careful to add that the one includes the other 
 and that the justice within the soul will express itself in just action.'^ 
 
 3. These definitions, then, meet the chief difficulties of the minor dialogues and fill 
 their place in the literary economy of the Rcpiihlic. But Plato warns us that they 
 are not the final definitions of a complete philosophy."^ It is not enough to define the 
 virtues psychologically on the assumption that their sum is good." A final definition 
 must relate virtue to, and deduce its utility from, an iiltimate standard or ideal of 
 good.-' Such a definition is rather a regulative conception than a practical possibility. 
 The Platonic Socrates is always prepared to silence by dialectic or overwhelm by his 
 eloquence those who deny that "virtue" is a real good.™ But a formal, positive enu- 
 meration of the reasons why courage and justice are good and desirable can never be 
 complete, and will always prove unedifying : "Does law so analyzed coerce you 
 much '?"' Plato wisely attempts nothing of the kind. He merely describes the dis- 
 cipline and education™ that will enable his philosophic rulers to prove, if required, the 
 coincidence of virtue and happiness, and systematically inculcate efficacious right 
 opinion, thus teaching virtue and molding character and institutions in the light of a 
 reasoned and unified conception of the true scope and good of individual and public 
 
 8-432 A, 442 D. This definition is adapted to the literary 
 machinery of the Republic. It does not estop Plato from 
 employing the word in its normal Greek sense (Hep., 
 389 D E, <ws wAjj^et. etc.). or from recognizing that it is a con- 
 dition of virtue rather than an active virtue; supra, p. 12. 
 
 83 Allowance once made for the literary schematism of 
 the four virtues, the three faculties, and the analogy be- 
 tween the man and the state, and account once taken of 
 Z-OJCS, 696 C, 710, and PoUtictu:. ,306 ff., it becomes a little 
 naive to complain that the distinction intended between 
 iTuj<t>potTvvr] and SiKaiotrvi'ri is not clear, and a little pedantic 
 to institute a learned philological inquiry to ascertain it. 
 
 84 Lnim, 864 A, tiiv 6e tou apiarov &6^av .... iav avryi Kpa- 
 Toiiffo tV ipv)^ais StaKOiTfJ.jj TToi'TO avRpa, itai' CifidAATjTat Tt StKaio^' 
 fiiv Tiav fivat <^tiT«of To TauTTj npa^O-iv. 
 
 8'' 442 E, 443 A. 
 
 ^••Groto, followed by many others, denies this. But 
 that is bncansi! lie persists in attributing to Plato the 
 doctrine that nthical abstractions ("mixed modes") have 
 one meaning only which can be expressed in an absolute 
 definition; cf.nupra. But, on the contrary, the very cause 
 of the confusion, according to Plato, is that men fail to take 
 notice of the different mf;anings and sub-specios covered 
 by one generic term (T/d/'fr., Itjl, 102; Euthydcm., 211,218; 
 Lavs, 837 A ; Phileb., 12 E il. ; Euthijphro, 7 D. with Pfurdr., 
 263B, and PuliL, 28rjE; Polit., 30:JA). Laches, Nicias, 
 Charmidcs, Critias, discuss the virtues without distin- 
 guishing temperament, convention, habit, systematic dis- 
 cipline, opinion, and complete insight. They are unable to 
 attach any precise meaning to the conventional phrases 
 
 " know thyself " and " minding one's own business." There 
 is not one temperance or bravery, but three or four. There 
 is no incompatibility between this view and Plato's insist- 
 ence on the necessity of the definition and the fi.nal unity 
 of virtue. If the word has many meanings, the first step 
 in rational argument is to define the one intended. And 
 the unity of virtue is to be sought, not in a verbal defini- 
 tion, but in the unity of the moral life, the idea of good, the 
 political art, the tricoTros {rf. infra, u. 102^. The definition 
 is a hypothesis at the beginning, or a stage in the progress 
 of the argument iC?uirm., 1G3A; Euthyphro, 9D, 11 C; 
 Pha!dr.,231'D,o,io\oyia 9e/ucioi 5po»', 263D E). It cannot be 
 an end, and for this reason dialogues that seek a definition 
 fail. This dialectical relativity of the definition, of course, 
 does not preclude Plato from arguing that his ideal of the 
 moral and social life is better than that of average Athenian 
 opinion, and that the definitions which embody it are right 
 as against formulas that express some aspect of the tradi- 
 tional belief. 
 
 ^^ Pep., 427 E, ot^at rjiiiv Trjv iroAif .... T(Ae(U? aya0i}v 
 fti'at. 6t]\ov S't} oTi (70tj>>^ t' eCTi fcai av&ptia Kal iTuiifipdiV Kai 
 6iKaia. 
 
 «^ //^/'rf.. rj04 R('T), oO.'! A, h TOO nyaBov iSta .... [J 5t««"« 
 Koi r'oAAa TrpoaxprjadfJitya xprjaifia *cai u»</)tAtjua ytyitTOi. 
 
 *^^Gorgias; Rep., J. 
 
 ooThe " longer way," Kc/7., 50IC, is for the guardians, 
 not for us who are reading the Eepuhlic. See Laws, •1G4, 
 OGtiC. Neglect of this point has caused mucti misinterpre- 
 tation. See Idea of Gtiod, in " University of Chicago Clas- 
 sical Studies," Vol. I, p. 190. 
 
 142
 
 Paul Shobey 17 
 
 life. The attainment of this mastery he poetically describes as the vision of the Idea 
 of Good. But it must never be forgotten that all this mysticism culminates in the 
 precise and purely logical statement of 5.34 B C, which affirms little more than Phce- 
 di'us, 278 C, or than Mill when ho says : "There is no knowledge, and no assurance 
 of right belief, but with him who can both confute the opposite opinion and success- 
 fully defend his own against confutation.''" Many secondary suggestions attach them- 
 selves to the phrase by association with the goodness of God, the universal cause, in 
 the Timceus^ the vision of the absolute ideas in the Phcedrus and Symposiiuii, the 
 fantastic enumeration in the Philebiis (BG) of the elements of "good" conceived at 
 once as an ethical and a cosmical principle."' Its chief logical and ethical significance 
 for the Republic has been hopelessly misunderstood, owing to the failure to connect it 
 rightly with the problem of the "good" as presented in the minor dialogues.'" In 
 these dialogues Socrates repeatedly tests definitions of the virtues by demanding that 
 they be related to happiness, the political or royal art, or the good. A virtue by 
 hypothesis must be a koKov and ayaOov.^'" The definitions proposed repeatedly break 
 down because Socrates is able to instance cases in which the riile prescribed does not 
 conduce to happiness — is not good.'* Similarly the rhetorician, the sophist, and 
 other pretenders to some supreme knowledge are confounded by Socrates's demand 
 that they shall sharply discriminate their art and science from all merely instrumental 
 and technical specialties which effect good or evil according as they are rightly or 
 wrongly used, and show its identity with the art of arts, the art of final ends, the 
 political art, the good." 
 
 In some of the minor dialogues the negative dialectic seems to go too far, and 
 Socrates makes demands that neither Platonism nor any other doctrine can meet. Thus 
 in the Charmides the familiar expression "knowing one's self," " knowing one's limits," 
 "knowing what one can or cannot do," is made a puzzle by confounding it with the 
 psychological question of self-knowledge or self-consciousness, and the fallacy or 
 problem about knowing and not knowing the same thing;''" and, waiving this point, 
 Socrates demands proof that knowing the things one cannot do and intrusting them 
 to experts is a good — a fundamental axiom of Platonism."' The explanation is that 
 the phrase, like to. kavrov irpaTTeiv above, is taken externally of adminicular and 
 
 91 Dissertations a?id Discussions, Vol. IV, p. 283. the " opinion of the best " is treated as a potent cause. 
 
 ooor^-r. • A- ^ .-. iL -J i'i= A.- e Lu J -.u Finally he identifies the idea of good with God by a sophis- 
 
 9229E, oyaSot ?>■. On the identification of the good With 
 
 God see Idea of Good, pp. 188, 189. 
 
 tical interpretation of napan^rjaia tavrw {Tim., 29 E) and a 
 false construction of (92 B) e'lKiitv toO votitov (sc. ^<i>ou not dtoit, 
 93Fantastic because due (1) to the wish to depress c/. 38CD). 
 
 i,Sovi/i to the fifth place; (2) to the neo-Platonic device of 95 ii/eno, 87 D ; LocAes, 192 C, 193D; Pro(ap.,349E; Eipp. 
 
 extending the intelligible hierarchy by the interpolation of Jl/oi., 28iD; Rep. 332 333. 
 
 new members between the highest and the lowest. It o»cj rj ^^ j nnn nm 
 
 . , ill- 1- • .■ 4u .i m . ' 96 See idea 0/ Good, pp. 200-204. 
 
 belongs to rhetoric or religious emotion, then, not to Plato s j , ^±- 
 
 scientific ethics. ^'> Euthyd., 282E, 290, 291C; Charm., nOB; Protag.. 
 
 ',,,„. „ , 319 A ; Gorj7., 501 A B, 503 D; Pohf., 289 C, 293 D, 309 C; iJep., 
 
 9*E. g., one hundred and fifty pages separate Zelleb'b 42s n 
 treatment of the idea of good (p. 707) from his discussion 
 
 of the ethical good (p. 867). In elucidation of the former 's C/. Meno, 80 E ; Euthydem.. 286D., The<ztet., 191B, 
 
 he quotes little or nothing from the ethical dialogues and 196 C. 
 cites neither PhcEdo, 99 A, nor any other passage in which 99 c/. Xen., .Veil., 4,2,24; Ale, 1, 117 DE; /.<ihs, 732A. 
 
 143
 
 18 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 mechanical arts and sciences, not as in the Repuhlic, with reference to the division of 
 labor or function in the soul and the supreme arts of life and government. To ask 
 why Critias is allowed to be baffled for lack of this distinction is to ask why Plato 
 wrote short dramatic dialogues at all — why he did not incorporate the fourth book 
 of the Repithlic in the Charmides. So in EutJii/demus, 202^,, the suggestion that 
 the good achieved by the possessors of the political art will be the training up of 
 successors to know it is treated as a vicious circle or an infinite regress, although, when 
 accompanied by the fuller explanations of the Repuhlic, it is evidently in part the true 
 Platonic doctrine.'™ And similarly in the Lysis the theory, virtually repeated in the 
 Synqjosium, that that which is intermediate between good and evil desires the good 
 as a remedy against evil, is rejected because it makes the good a mere means to an 
 end.'"' But the general meaning that emerges from the cnropiai of the minor dialogues, 
 and the answer to them given in the Republic, is as simple as it is sound. A philo- 
 sophic ethics must systematically relate its definitions and prescriptions to some con- 
 sistent conception of final ends and good — be it the realization of spiritual health and 
 order in a reformed society, the development of personality, the greatest happiness of 
 the greatest number, the fulfilment of the will of God, the renunciation of the will to 
 live, or the survival of the fittest. The statesman rises above the politician, the 
 thinker and artist above the rhetorician, the true teacher above the charlatan, by his 
 [)ossession of an aim and a standard, his apprehension of a type of perfection toward 
 which all his thoughts, and words, and acts converge.'"' 
 
 Plato's own ethical and social conceptions were thus co-ordinated and unified. 
 Those of the brilliant sophists and rhetoricians who figure in his pages were not. 
 They may have been very estimable and ingenious men. They could not in Plato's 
 judgment be triie philosophers, statesmen, or teachers of statesmen, because they 
 lacked both the "idea of good" and the synoptic and unifying dialectic required for 
 its systematic application in ethics and politics, and in the education of the masses to 
 "virtue." This recognition of the logical significance of the idea of good for the 
 Republic and the Socratic dialogues does not commit us to an acceptance of all Plato's 
 social ideals. It does not even require us to admit that the doctrine of the Republic 
 really solves all the difficulties suggested by Plato's "negative dialectic." But it 
 creates the strongest presumption that it was present to his mind when he wrote the 
 Laches, Charmides, and Euthydemus. 
 
 Parallel to the quest for the definition of the cardinal virtues leading to the idea 
 of good is the study of friendship, love, passion, culminating in the apprehension of 
 the idea of beauty at the point where it is hardly to be distinguished from the good."" 
 No complete philosophy can ignore these things. Plato's reflections upon them have 
 
 '«'C/. Menn, lOOA, olo? «ai ihXov iroiiaai rtakniKov, etc. IM C()i-j7., SfB K, TiOl T, Sn, 518 ; Rp/)., 484C, SOODE, 520C; 
 
 Cf. Bcp., 412AB, 497CD; Laws. 950Bff.; Potit., .%9D, rhy Laws, 625 E, G30C, 6&S B, G93 B, 706 A, 717 A, 7:i3C D, 962 A. 
 
 iif noXiriKOy .... Trpoa^xei . . . . Tp rije ^acriAix^c fiovtrj} 
 
 lo-i Lysis, 219, 220; Symp., 205 D, 210, 211 ; Pha'tlr., 250D ff. ; 
 
 TOUTO avrb iunoitly TOi'v opSiln titTaXafioiiai 7rai5*i(i«, which, «,■,,,., A '- f j a • t- 
 
 . Phlleo., 64 E. vw brj Karairfpevy^v ^t^i-y V tou ayaaov bvvat^iK 
 
 however, refers partly to the lower education as well. - , - , . 
 
 ■^ ti? TrjV rov KaAov fpvffii'. 
 
 101 Cf. Lysis, 218 A, with Symp., 203 E. 
 
 144
 
 Paul S ho key 19 
 
 become the commonplaces of the philosophy and poetry of modern Europe : the 
 strange antinomy between the love of like for like and the attraction of dissimilars in 
 man and nature; the exaltation of character and mood in passionate lovit and friend- 
 ship; the transfiguration of the passion in the love of aesthetic, moral, and intellectual 
 beauty;"" the overloading of the instinct to achieve the ends of nature — the immor- 
 tality of the species.'"'^ The student of the Lysis, Pluedrus, Sijmposinm, Republic, 
 and Laws will find it impossible to fix a date at which these ideas first presented 
 themselves to Plato's mind.'" The mood, the treatment, the emphasis varies. Some 
 of the thoughts are omitted in each dialogue, none are treated in all, and contradic- 
 tions and developments may bo "proved" by uncritically pressing the language and 
 the imagery. But the differences between the Symposium and Pluedrus, both pre- 
 sumably works -of the middle period, are as noticeable as those found in any other 
 works that touch on the theme. The Symposium mentions one idea, the Phcedrus 
 several; the former ignores immortality and a.vdiMvr](n<;, the latter is one of the chief 
 sources for both."" The Phcedrus ignores the thought that love is the yearning of 
 the mortal for immortality, the Syinjjosium' virtually omits the doctrine of fiavia and 
 enthusiasm. In the Symposium love is not a god, biit a demon; in the Plicedrus he 
 is 0e6'i or (to escape explicit contradiction) rt Belov. These and other differences pre- 
 sent no difficulties to a rational literary interpretation. On no reasonable theory of 
 Plato's development can they signify real changes in Plato's beliefs in the interval 
 between the composition of the two dialogues. 
 
 The Lysis, though a slight Socratic dialogue, displays extreme subtlety of dialec- 
 tic,"" and implies some of the most characteristic thoughts of the Symposium."^ The 
 failure to establish a formal definition, and the Socratic avowal of ignorance at the 
 end prove nothing. There is a plain hint that Menexeuus is an "eristic," and 
 Socrates's treatment of him, so different in tone from the edifying little conversation 
 with Lysis, is a mere dramatic illustration of the ifKavri or cnropia that results from 
 failure to discriminate the different meanings of an ambiguous term. Love, as the 
 PhcBdrus tells us, is such a term — including subordinate and contradictory species."" 
 For, as the Laws say, 837 A, Svo 7a/) ovra avra Koi i^ aficj)olv rpCrov ciWo e'So? ev ovofia 
 
 iwZoUer's theory that Eros is derp7n7osophiscfceTrie6 is trated, the identity of opposites as such, recurs in sub- 
 
 a somewhat rigid and matter-of-fact interpretation of this stance in Parvien., 148 A B, and belongs to the same class as 
 
 poetry. the quibble on sniiov, Euthydem., 301 B; Thecetet.. 190C; 
 
 i«%mp., 207D; Laws, 721, 773E. Parmen., 147E. Cf. also i.oMo.<ir<iro^ Phiteb., 13D; Par- 
 men., 127 E, 148 BC. 
 
 '»«C/. Rep., 402, 403, with .fi/mp., 210C; Kep.,490AB; ,.„ „ ,- ., . . , ^- , „ „„, „ ,., 
 
 r cucTj ^ • -I/- . - !»«£. p., et""' ouSe.5 <JiiAo(roi/ici, etc ,Sj/mp., 203 E, which 
 
 Laws, WSiii, ipaovriat^ .... xai i-ous Kai fioftt [X^T epwTOS Te , , „,„, ,, . , . 
 
 ... „ ,„,,„ .,, , -,, T^ - - a - LUTOSLAWSKI (p. 239) thinks an important new point, in 
 
 Kat (TTieujutas; Ecp., 499 C-, With Laivs, jllD, orai- €pu>s ytto5 J , ^, j^ . . ■ .. , J ,, - , . „.^ . 
 
 , , .... . . . , advance even of the Cra(i/(iis, IS "already ' in £y5(S, 218 A. 
 
 oj, T. ri,- r- -J.- -.1 n. J oe, . r uo- seller, who IS "unable to suppose that Plato had "al- 
 
 841 D, C.% C, irapa <t>v<rif, with PkcEclr., 251 A; Laws, 83i; j .. i^ • j n. ■ i- ii ui i u- i i 
 
 „ ,_,„„ ,■ .. r , ■ o ready ' attained the guiding thoughts of his later system 
 
 Goro., 474DE, generalization of «aAop' as in Swmp. , .,,, .l . - *», r ■ .l l » ■ , , • 
 
 " '^ (p. 614), argues that in the I.j/s;s the psychological analysis 
 
 10' LOTOSLAWSKI (p. 242) fails to tell us where ironviiris is carried as far as is possible on a Socratic basis, but that 
 
 is " alluded to in the speech of Aristophanes." the metaphysical explanation was revealed later. If Plato 
 
 108 The conception of eristic, 216 A B, arguing to the must tell all he knows in every dialogue, why is ifi^yriint 
 
 word, not the meaning, is as clear as it is in Rep., 4.")4 A, °°' associated with .'pais in the Syinposium and Republict 
 or Euthydem., 295 B C, and the fallacy by which it is illus- "" 263 C, 265 E. 
 
 145
 
 20 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 irepiKa^ov iracrav cnropiav Kai aKorov airepyd^eTai. How familiar the two eiBrj were to 
 Plato appears from the almost technical use of the phrase St' oiMowrijTa ^Cklav in 
 PhcBclr., 240 C. Menexenus's bewilderment is precisely on a par with that of Kleinias 
 over the two meanings of iiavddvo) in the Euthydemus."^ Plato is no more confused 
 in the one case than in the other. The mood of the Sijmjjosiicm and Phcpdrus is 
 compatible with youth or maturity, hardly with old age. The thoughts are naturally 
 not repeated in their entirety, but many of them appear in the Republic, or are sug- 
 gested elsewhere. They are nowhere contradicted,"^ and there is no reason to doubt 
 that they were essential permanent elements of Plato's criticism of life. But he was 
 not always in the mood to dwell upon them. 
 
 4. In another aspect the Platonic ethics is a polemic against hedonism. This must 
 not be confounded with the modern utilitarian controversy. The modern opponent of 
 utilitarianism is chiefly concerned to prove that the moral law cannot be deduced from 
 experiences of utility, but has an a jmori origin and requires a supernatural sanction. 
 Plato does not directly discuss the origin of morality, but he explicitly disclaims the 
 necessity of the sanction derived from the hope of immortality,"^ affirms with great 
 emphasis that the useful is the right,"* and bases all virtue on the supremacy of the 
 XoyiariKov or calculating reason."' In the Protagoras Socrates is represented as 
 maintaining against Protagoras by purely Benthamite arguments the identity of 
 pleasure and the good."^ 
 
 The seeming contradiction between this and the anti-hedoniSm of the Gorgias and 
 Philebus demands explanation. It has sometimes been argued that Plato's own 
 opinions on this point were reversed between the composition of the Protagoras and 
 that of the Gorgias. Another explanation is that Socrates merely develops a paradox 
 for the bewilderment of the Sophist. And it is true that in some parts of the dialogue 
 Socrates is obviously jesting,"' and that we are warned against accepting the result 
 too seriously by the reminder that both Socrates and Protagoras have maintained 
 
 in277E. "6 i»)0(a!;,, 353-X. 
 
 Hi Grote says that in the Thcmtetus the spectacle of a 117340(1. In 341 D, Protagoras, anticipating Philebus, 
 
 beautiful youth is not required as the indispensable initia- 12E, and in language suggestiug the protest against eristic 
 
 tory stimulus to philosophy. But the Symp., 210C, tiv in .Supftisf, 259 D, points out that (generic) resemblance is 
 
 atiiKpbv avdoi ixfi, and the Kep., 402 D, emphasize the unim- compatible with difference and even contrariety (f/. also 
 
 portance of the beauty of the body as compared with that ilerio, 74 D). He does not explain himself fully, however, 
 
 of the mind. And in the same vein Socrates says, icaAos yip and Socrates, ignoring the point, proceeds to trip him up 
 
 €1 w ©eatTTjTe .... 6 yap KoAws Aey'^'' icaAd?, etc., 186 E. The by a fallacious use of the principle that one thing can have 
 
 Platonic Socrates is still the epiunicdt as he was in the Lysis, only one opposite. Whatever the date of the Euthydemut, 
 
 nor can we suppose that he would ever have found the its author was aware that a word used in two senses may 
 
 beautiful 3/e7io as helpful an "initiatory stimulus to philos- have two opposites, quite as early as ho was capable of 
 
 ophy" as the snub-nosed Theeetetus. writing the Protagoras. The passage is merely a dramatic 
 
 111 Rep., 363 B C D, 367 E, 612 BC. The Gorgias does not illustration of Socrates's superiority in the game of ques- 
 difler herein from the Repuhlic, as Ritchie (p. 156) seems to t'oD and answer. Again in 350B-3.51 A, when it is argued 
 think. The argument is complete without the myth, and the "lat bravery is knowledge because knowledge imparts con- 
 phrases at the end about living justly in order to prepare fidence, Protagoras points out that wo cannot convert the 
 for the judgment of Minos prove no more than the i^a of universal aflirmative proposition, "all bravery is confi- 
 Ren 6''1C dunce," and ilistinguishes as bravery the confidence that 
 
 arises from nature and training. Though not a nuitch for 
 
 KaAo^, Hep., 4.>7B. Socrates, Protagoras is a far bettor reasoner than Laches 
 
 i>''Rc/>., 440 E, 571 C, 605 B. or Nicias, and again Socrates refutes him only by taking 
 
 146
 
 Paul Shokey 21 
 
 theses incompatible with the positions from which they started. '" But the full expla- 
 nation lies deeper. In tlio llcpnhHc Plato undertakes to demonstrafo tlie intrinsic 
 desirability of virtue afjainst two forms of disbelief — the explicit skepticism of the 
 cynic, who affirms that natural justice is the advantage of the stronger and human 
 justice an artificial convention, and the unfaith of the ordinary man, who virtually 
 admits this theory by commending justice solely on external and prudential grounds.'" 
 The Callicles of the Gorgias represents the former view, Gorgias himself and (less 
 obviously) Protagoras the latter. Like other Sophists, he is the embodiment of average 
 public opinion which his teaching reproduces.'"'' He himself says that all men teach 
 virtue. He modestly claims at the most only to teach it a little more effectively and 
 persuasively than the layman.'"' Plato would admit both assertions, with the reserva- 
 tion that the virtue so taught hardly deserves the name, and that the teaching is 
 neither systematic nor philosophical. 
 
 The molding power of public opinion, operating through countless social and 
 educative agencies, is admirably depicted in the myth attributed to Protagoras, the 
 main thought of which is repeated in the Rejiublic."' There, however, the philosophic 
 rulers are to employ this irresistible force for the inculcation, not of average Greek 
 opinion, but of Platonic virtue. The Protagoras dramatically illustrates the dialectic 
 incapacity and philosophic superficiality of the great popular teacher. His ethical 
 teaching is spiritually and logically on a level with the precepts of the worthy sires 
 and guardians satirized by Adeimantus.'"'^ However unlike in temper and practical 
 effect, it is philosophically akin to the individual hedonism of Callicles and Thrasy- 
 machus who reject all morality as an unreal convention. Pi-otagoras is naturally 
 unaware of this. Like the populace, he recoils from the naked exposition of the 
 principles implied in his preaching and practice. He accepts the terminology of indi- 
 vidual hedonism only under compulsion of Socrates's superior dialectic. But Socrates's 
 explicit challenge to him and the assembled Sophists to name any other final good 
 than ■^Bovr) is a pi'oof that one of Plato's objects was to identify the Sophistic ethics 
 with hedonism.'"* But neither this nor the demonstration of Protagoras's inability 
 to cope with Socrates in dialectic exhausts the significance of the dialogue. 
 
 Plato, however reluctantly, always recognized a certain measure of truth in the 
 Benthamite analysis here attributed to Socrates. He knew that " act we must in 
 pursuance of that which (we think) will give us most pleasure." Even the Gorgias 
 contains phrases of utilitarian, if not hedonistic, implication.'"^ The Eudaemonism of 
 
 up a new line of argument — the identity of pleasure and »^ Eep., .362 E ff. Cf, Zeller, p. 603, n. 1. 
 
 good, and the consequent unity of the virtues in the 120 Peo 49'' ff ^-^ Protaa 328 B 
 
 ''measuring art." Plato of course was aware here, and in the 
 
 Euthyphro (12), and everywhere, that a universal afHrma- '23 Ritchie (p. 1.56) says: "The argument of the Sophist 
 
 tive cannot be directly converted. But it is a part of the P^tagoras is now fully accepted by Plato," ttc, as 
 
 scheme of the dialogue that Protagoras should make some '^ ^'^'o ^''^ ""^ ">« «»*''*"' "^ ">« Protagora.,. 
 good points, though defeated in the end. And Socrates is '23 iJep., 362E. 12*354 D, 3o8.\. 
 
 baffled in or fails to complete other proofs of the unity of i2i 499 p. Ritchie (p. 155) strangely says that in the 
 
 virtue, and so is driven to rely on the proof from hedonism. Republic Plato recognizes, in marked advance upon the 
 
 which is the chief feature of the diah)gue. position of the Goij7t.(s, that there are good pleasures as 
 
 "sProfoff., 361. well as bad! 
 
 147
 
 22 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 the Republic has often been pointed out,''" and in the Laws Plato explicitly declares, 
 in language recalling that of the Profnrjoras, that it is not in human nature to pursue 
 any course of action that does not promise a favorable balance of pleasure.'"' But the 
 inference which he draws is not that it is safe or desirable to proclaim that pleasure 
 is the good, but that it is necessary to demonstrate that the good — the virtuous life — 
 is the most pleasurable. 
 
 To a Benthamite this will seem a purely verbal or rhetorical distinction. And 
 Aristotle himself hints that Plato's aversion to the name of pleasure cast a suspicion 
 of unreality over his ethical teaching.'"" But Plato is not alone in his aversion to the 
 word. Matthew Arnold acknowledges a similar feeling. Aiad Jowett, in his admirable 
 introduction to the Philebus, has once for all set forth the considerations by which 
 many clear-headed modern thinkers, who perfectly understand the utilitarian logic and 
 accept whatever is true in its psychology, are nevertheless moved to i-eject its language. 
 The Greek word ijSoi/^ is much more closely associated with a low view of happiness 
 than the English word "pleasure;" and Plato had, or thought that he had, much 
 stronger reasons than the moderns have, for identifying hedonism with the negation of 
 all moral principle. 
 
 The Gorgias and PhilcbHs nowhere explicitly contradict the thesis of the Pro- 
 tagoras that a preponderance of pleasure, rightly estimated and abstracted from all 
 evil consequences, is good.'"'' The doctrine which they combat is the unqualified iden- 
 tification of pleasure and good, coupled with the afiirmation that true happiness is to 
 be sought by developing and gratifying the appetite for the pleasures of sense and 
 ambition.'^" Plato represents Callicles and Philebus as unable or unwilling to limit 
 these propositions even by the qualifications of the Protagoras."' It is he, not they, 
 who introduces the distinction of pure and impure,'^^ true and illusive,'" wholesome 
 and unwholesome,'" necessary and unnecessary pleasures."^ The modern critic may 
 object that Plato was not justified in attributing to any contemporaries either this 
 dialectical incapacity or this cynical effrontery. Plato thought otherwise. It is a 
 question of historical evidence. But it is not legitimate to attribute to the Callicles 
 and the Philebus of the dialogues the utilitarianism of Grote or John Stuart Mill, or 
 even that of the Protagoras, and so convict Plato of self-contradiction.'^" 
 
 With these remarks we may dismiss so much of the Gorgias and Pliilebus as is 
 merely dialectical, dramatic, or rhetorical, directed against the crudest form of hedonism 
 which Plato chooses to bring upon the stage before grappling with the problem in 
 
 i-'.T)" B, ^Soi-ai oaai a^XapfU gnods per se: 457 B, 458 E, and the expUination that some painful goods are medicinal 
 
 ij81 E (with /vows, 7;i2E), t^r) oti. irp'o-; to KaX^tov xat alvxtov iw (3r)4 A = Kep., S.'iT C), and is checked by the calculus of all 
 
 /xijfie TO xftpoi" Kat a/xcii'oi', aAAa Trpb? aiiTo to ijSiof Ka't aAvjroT- consequences, all of which is ignored by Callicles and 
 
 tpov. Philebus. 
 
 127 Laws, -33, 7.34 ; <•/. 663 A. i-:« Eth. nic, X, 1. U2 phileb., 51, 52. 133 Ibid., 36 C ff. 
 
 '^■iPhileb., 60 A B, is verbally a direct contradiction of i3»/6jrf., « A; Gorg., 499 DE. "^ Rep., 558 D. 
 
 Protag., .1).> B. , „, pij^^^^ ^^ Jowett says, is " playing both sides of the 
 
 13(1 Oorg., 495 A, 492 D E : Pluleb., 12 A, 12 D, 27 E. g^y„„ .... bj,t it is not necessary in order to understand 
 
 131 The verbal identification of liSovij and ovaSoi- in i^") him that we should discuss the fairness of his modes of 
 
 has been precoflc<l by such phrases as Kod' & ifS^a iariv, 351 C, proceeding." 
 
 148
 
 Paul Shorey 
 
 23 
 
 earnest.*^' The real arguments which he employs, not so much to refute the thesis of 
 the Profagoras as to limit its ]>racticnble application and justify his repudiation of its 
 terminology, may be summed up as follows: The distinction between good and 
 bad pleasures once admitted, the statement that pleasure as such is the good, becomes 
 an unreal abstraction.'^" The reality is specific kinds of pleasure and the principle of 
 distinction, whether intelligence, measure, or the will to obey the "opinion of the 
 best,"'^^ becomes more important than the bare name of i)leasure, and more nearly 
 allied to the good.'*" The "measuring art" postulated in the Protagoras is impracti- 
 cable. Pleasure and pain are, like confidence and fear, foolish counselors;'" either 
 deprives the mind of the sanity required for a just estimate.'*^ No scale of human 
 judgment can be trusted to weigh the present against the future, and make allowance 
 for all the illusions of memory, hope, and contrast.'" The most intense pleasures and 
 pains are associated with a diseased condition of mind and body.'** And the habit of 
 pursuing pleasure, of thinking and speaking of it as the good, tends to make the world 
 of sense seem more real than that of thought and spirit.'*" The contrary is the truth. 
 The world of sense is a pale reflex of the world of ideas,'*^ and the pleasures of 
 sense are inherently unreal, illusory, and deceptive, and may in sound logic be termed 
 false, as fairly as the erroneous opinions that accompany them.'" They are false 
 because composed of hopes and imaginations not destined to be fulfilled;'*" false, 
 because exaggerated by the illusions of distance in time or contrast;'*^ false, because 
 
 I37p/iae6., 55AB, and Gorff., 495 C, 499 B, show that the 
 arguments of Gorgr., 49r)C-499B, are, in the main, a con- 
 scious dialectical sport. I recur to this point so often be- 
 cause the Gorgias aud the first book of the Republic are the 
 chief source of the opiniou, widely spread by Grote, Mill, 
 and Sidgwick, that Plato is a magnificent preacher, but 
 often a weak reasoner. Cf. Mill, Diss, and Discuss.^ IV, 
 291: "This great dialogue, full of just thoughts and fine 
 observations on human nature, is, in mere argument, one 
 of the weakest of Plato's works.'* Cf. Idea of Goody pp. 
 213-15. 
 
 I38pft,i7e6., 12 BE. In answer to the question, nuts yap 
 
 ijSovr} ye jjSoyjj fi'n oi'x bfioioTarov av tlij ; Socrates shows that 
 
 generic (verbal) identity is compatible with specific differ- 
 ence or even opposition, a logical principle "already" 
 glanced at in the Protag., 331 D, with the same illustration 
 of jLttAai- and XevKov. IjUTOslawski, p. 467, misunderstands 
 13 A, TOuTa> TuJ Adyoi /iJj maT^ve, Ttjj Tiai'Ta Tii ivavTLujrara eu 
 
 iTotovfTt — " we need not attempt a reconciliation of all con- 
 tradictious! " 
 
 i^^ Phcedl'.^ 237 D, e/un^uros .... eiriBvfiia JiSovuif .... 
 ejTiKTTjTO? 66^a, e(f)i€iJ.evr) tou apitrrov. Cf. LaiOS, 644 D, 645 A. 
 Phcedo, 99 A, ujto So^tj? ^epoixeva tou PcATt'tTTOV. 
 
 Ufip/K7e6., 64C, Tt .... /utaAto'T* alriov elyai 86^€uv at- 
 ritJ.lv Toil ita<Ti yeyovivai Trpo<r^tAq ttji* TOtauT»)c Sia.Oe<rtv; with 
 
 the context. 
 
 1*1 Cf. Tim., 69 D, with Laws. 644 C. 
 
 U2ieep., 402 E; Phileb., 63 D; Phcedo, 66 B. 
 
 1*3 C/. Phileb., 41Eff., with Protag., 3r)6, 357; Gorgias, 
 500 A. 3p' ovv Trai'Tos ac6p6? carer tKKi^auBai, etc. Laws, 663 B, 
 
 <TKOTO&t.p iOLV 6e TO TToppttiOev bpJjfXfi'ov iraai re ws eTros eiTrti*' .... 
 irape^ei, and the rhetorical repudiation of the whole hedo- 
 nistic calculus, Phasdo, 69 A B. 
 
 ^^^ Phileb., 45 B-E, ^y Tin Troi'rjpio i//u\»JT xai Toy (ru>j;iaTOS 
 .... fifytiXTat fxev ^Socai, etc. 
 
 1*5 Cf. Phcedo, 83 D, with James's Psychology, Vol. II, p. 
 306: "Among all sensatious, the most belief-compelling are 
 those productive of pleasure or pain." 
 
 I«i?ep., 509, 510, 514 ff., the allegory of the cave. 
 
 ^^"^ Phileb. y 36C ff. As Berkeley aud Huxley argue from 
 the subjectivity of pain to that of sensations aud ideas ; as 
 Epicurus proceeds from the reality of pain to that of the 
 other secondary qualities; so, reversing the order, Plato 
 infers the falsity of pleasures and pains from that of the 
 associated perceptions and beliefs. Grote, Jowett, Horn, 
 and others pronounce the whole train of reasoning falla- 
 cious. But it is to be observed: (1) that their objections 
 as usual are anticipated by Plato {Phileb., 38 A), who has a 
 right to use his own terminology provided his meaning is 
 unambiguous {Charmides, 163D); (2) that the epithet 
 " false " is used either with reference to a postulated objec- 
 tive judgment of life as a whole, or as a mere rhetorical 
 expression of the disdain or pity felt by an onlooker. In 
 the first sense it is justified by the argument, in the second 
 by the usage of the poets— falsa licet cupidus deponat 
 gaudia livor (Propert., 1, 8, 29); (3) having demonstrated 
 against Sophistic negations that i/zeuS^s applies to 56fa, 
 Plato was naturaUy tempted to extend it to ^5of»j. 
 
 as Phileb., 39 E, 40 C. Cf. "we are all imaginative, for 
 images are the brood of desire " (George Eliot). 
 
 n^/ftirf., 41, 42B; Laivs, 663 B. 
 
 149
 
 24 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 what we mistake for positive pleasure is usually the neutral state, the absence of 
 uneasiness, the cessation of pain.''" 
 
 This doctrine of the negativity of what men call pleasure is the fundamental basis 
 of Plato's ethics, as it is of Schopenhauer's. On this, in the last instance, rests his 
 refutation of hedonism, and, as we shall see, his demonstration that virtue and happi- 
 ness are one.'" Sensuous pleasures are in their nature impure and illusory. They are 
 preconditioned by, and mixed with, desire, want, pain. "Surgit amari aliquid" is ever 
 true of them. They are the relief of an uneasiness, the scratching of an itch, the 
 filling of a vacuum.'" To treat them as real, or to make them one's aim (except so 
 far as our human estate requires), is to seek happiness in a process rather than a 
 state,'"' in becoming rather than in being. It is to bind one's self to the wheel of 
 Ixion and pour water into the bottomless jar of the Danaids.'^' Far happier, far more 
 pleasurable, is the life that consistently aims at few and calm pleasures, to which the 
 sensualist would hardly give the name, a life which he would regard as torpor or 
 death.'^^ 
 
 Both the physiology and the psychology of this doctrine have been impugned. 
 It has been argued that, up to the point of fatigue, the action of healthy nerves involves 
 no pain, and must yield a surplus of positive sensuous pleasure. It is urged that the 
 present uneasiness of appetite is normally more than counterbalanced by the anticipa- 
 tion of immediate satisfaction. Such arguments will carry no weight with those who 
 accept Plato's main contention, that the satisfactions of sense and ambition, however 
 inevitable, have no real worth, and that to seek our true life in them is to weave and 
 unweave the futile web of Penelope. Whatever qualifications modern psychology may 
 attach to the doctrine, it is the logical basis of Plato's ethics. The unfeigned recogni- 
 tion of the inherent worthlessness of the lower pleastires removes at once the motive 
 and lures to evil.'^° It is the chief link in the proof that virtue is happiness. It 
 insures the domination of reason over feeling and appetite. It molds man into that 
 likeness to the divine pattern which is Plato's favorite expression for the ethical ideal,'" 
 for the divine life knows neither pleasure nor pain."^' It is the serious argument that 
 
 iMPAifeh., 42Cff. ; Rep., 583D. some moderns, that pleasure is not strictly = KiVtjais is 
 
 ,-,fT.L i ii. i 1 • • -.«*. • ■ ;<- beside the point. 
 
 1^1 The argument that pleasure is ■yei-eo'is, not ovtjta, is ^ 
 
 not, as Zellee says (p. 604), the nerve of the proof. It is >'■•* Gorg., 493B, TeTpijufi-o? wiSos, etc.; Phcedo, 84A, 
 
 obviously,asthelanguageot 53 C implies, one of those half- ai-^rvToi- tpyoi' .... nijieAditTjs — icrrdi, Goi-j?., 507E; Phileh., 
 
 serious metaphysical and rhetorical confirmations used to 54 E. 
 
 make a strong case where Plato's feelings are enlisted. It 155 phceda, 64 B ; Gorg., 492 E ; Phileb.. 54 E, «o; *airi ^^ 
 
 does not occur explicitly in the Republic which spealis, how- „,,, j^, u^auBai, etc. In Laws, 733, 734 B, the hedonistic calcu- 
 
 ever, of pleasure asKiVTjai?, 583 E. lus of the Protafforas is retained, but is applied notdirectly 
 
 i52"Already" in the Gorgias, 493E, 494C, and the to the individual acts, but to types of life. The life of 
 
 Phmdrus. ZriSH, Sif irpolivwrie^fat Stl t, ii.riBii,<reiiwai, etc.; Rep.. moderate pleasures is a priori the more pleasurable 
 
 .')84 A B. It has even been argued that the Plui'drus passage because it necessarily yields a more favorable balance 
 
 takes for granted the fuller discussion of the Philebus ( W. than the life of intense pleasures. 
 
 H.Thompson, i^Acct/nw, ofUoc). And why not? Anything 156 PAredo, 66 C; «e;)., 586 A B, 588. 
 
 may bo argued if the dialogues are supposed to grow out of 
 
 one another and not out of Plato's mind. i^'' Theatet.. 176 Bff.; Laws, 716 D, T28AB; «ep., 352B. 
 
 '•^i Phileh., 53Cff.; .54 E virtually = Owrff., 493E. The 
 literal-minded objection of Aristotle, Kth. Nie.. X, 4, and 1^8 Phileb,, S3 B. 
 
 612 E; Phileb., S91E. 
 
 IBO
 
 Paul Shobey 25 
 
 explains Plato's repiidiatioii of the hwlonistic formulas of the Proiagnras, and justifies 
 the noble anti-hedonistic rhetoric of the Gurgitis, the Plui'do, and the Philel^uay^' 
 
 4. Plato's insistence on the necessity of proving the coincidence of virtue and 
 happiness marks another difiference between him and modern writers. The question 
 is rarely put in the forefront of modern ethical discussion, excc[)t for the polemical 
 purpose of proving that an opponent's philosophy supplies no basis or sanction for 
 morality. The majority of modern ethical writers relegate the problem to a digression 
 or a footnote. They are content to establish a "general tendency" or "strong proba- 
 bility." Or they frankly admit that while everybody would be glad if the proposition 
 could be proved, it is not susceptible of mathematical demonstration. But this was 
 not enough for Plato. His own faith was adamantine.'* He was as certain that hap- 
 piness is inseparable iram virtue as of the existence"" of the Island of Crete. 
 Even if it were only a probability, he would not permit it to be impugned in a well- 
 ordered state."'" Just how much positively immoral and cynical philosophy was cur- 
 rent in Plato's day is, as we have seen, a dispiited historical question. But Plato 
 himself was haunted by the thought of the unscrupulous skeptic who sought to justify 
 his own practice by appeals to the law of nature or theories of the origin of justice in a 
 conspiracy of the weak against the strong. "^^ His imagination was beset by the picture 
 of some brilliant young Alcibiades standing at the crossways of life and debating in 
 his mind whether his best chance of happiness lay in accepting the conventional moral 
 law that serves to police the vulgar or in giving rein to the instincts and appetites of 
 his own stronger nature.'" To confute the one, to convince the other, became to him 
 the main problem of moral philosophy. It is a chief duty of the rulers in the RcpiiJdic 
 and the Laws, and the Socrates of the dialogues is at all times ready and equipped to 
 undertake it. 
 
 Plato is not always overnice in the arguments by which the skeptic is refuted. It 
 is enough that the "wicked" should not have the best of the argument."'' Socrates in 
 the first instance puts forth just enough dialectical strength to batHe a Callicles or a 
 Thrasymachus.'"' This, as we have seen, is the quality of much of the argument of 
 the Gorgias,™ though it is intermingled with hints of deeper things, and supplemented 
 
 i''9Gorff.,507, SlS.SlSiFhfsdo, 69;PAife6.,66A;i?e/).,580B. tration of the game of question and answer. Thrasymachus 
 
 iftu Gorgia^, 509 A ; Rep.^ 360 B. 618 A. -sets up the thesis, oi a&iKoi (f)p6i-i^oc >cai ayaQoi, and Socrates 
 
 i6ii,aH"s, 662B. forces him to contradict himself. Zeller Ip. 75'i) lists it 
 
 162 iff/)., 392 A B; LaHW, 663 B, iriSawit v', el fiy,Ui> ircpoy, among Plato's fallacies. 
 
 jrpos TO Ttva t^tAeii- ^^i- Tof bfftof KaX SUaLov fiiov. 167 Strictly Speaking, Socrates's dialectic is emplos'ed 
 
 163 iJe/)., 358, 359, 365; Gorg., 483ff. Cf. Rep., 3oSC, merely to force from Callicles the admission that some 
 
 JiaTeflpvA^^eVoi ri ira ; Protag., 333 C, «.rtl mWoi yi <l,a<rc; pleasures are bad (449 BC; cf. Rep.. 505 C). From this 
 
 Euthydem., 279 B, i<ra.s ydp i^ ret ;i^:„ in*cff^,Ti(r«e ; Phileh.. I^oi"' ^^^ argument, abandoning ethical theory, discusses 
 
 66E; Gorg.. 511B; Laws, 889DE, with rftecefe*., mCD. social and political ideals at Athens. "Good" is treated as 
 
 ,r. ^ „.. r. ^ r.^Tx r rt^n -r, dlstluct f rom "plcasurQ," as It Is lu P/i(«rfr.. 239 C. But the 
 
 16' Bep., 36;) B; Corp., 510 D; Laws, 662 E. .. , .. •. » i»- .. i ^ u ..u 
 
 question whether it may not ultimately prove to be the 
 
 ieiThecetet., 176 CD; 177 B, «i. i p,Topi«i) e.Ei).) irut favorable balance of pleasure (P)-otni7.) is not raised. The 
 
 iiro/iapaii.<Tai. The whole passage is a description of the crude identification of the terms is rejected for reasons 
 
 Gorgias. Cf., 527 A, viv Se opit, 6t. Tpel^ Srres v/xeU, oiirep g^^^l [,^1^ yaii(j in jhe Philehus. Cf. Phileb., 55 B, with 
 
 <ro*oiTaToieo-T«Tir rOi. 'EAA^iui. . . . . oii« ixere iiroSelfoi, etc. (Jorff., 498C. There is no Contradiction. The three dia- 
 
 Laios, 907 C, pi irore Adyois iiywvrai. xpaToOi'Tts, etc. logues, differing in mood, are logically consistent and sup- 
 
 166 E. g., the argument in Rep., 349, 350, is a mere illus- plement one another. 
 
 151
 
 26 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 by noble eloquence. In the Republic, however, Plato undertakes not only to confute 
 and silence, but to convince."*' The real ground of conviction is the total underlying 
 conception of the true nature, harmony, health, and consequent happiness of the soul. 
 
 But the formal proof is summed up in the ninth book in three arguments which, 
 as Plato repeatedly tells us, constitute the framework of the whole design."'" To these, 
 in form at least, all other interests of the book are subordinate — the construction of 
 the ideal state, the higher philosophical education, the idea of good, the character- 
 sketches of degenerate types. The first argument is based on the comparison of the 
 individual and the state which runs through the entire work from the second to the 
 ninth book. It takes two forms: (1) That of a mere external analogy. As the hap- 
 piness of the ideal state is to the misery of the ochlocracy or the tyranny, so is the 
 happiness of the well-governed just soul to the wretchedness of the man whose soul is 
 the prey of a mob of appetites, or the slave of a ruling passion.''" (2) The force of 
 this external analogy is derived wholly from the psychological truth that it embodies. 
 Unity or factious division, the sovereignty of reason, or the usurpations of passion 
 and appetite, harmony or discord, health or disease, as used of the soul, are more 
 than mere figures of speech ; they are the exact expression of inevitable alternatives 
 resting on indisputable psychological facts. The dominance of the higher reason over 
 disciplined emotion and controlled appetite is the sole and effective condition at once 
 of the unity, harmony, and health of spiritual life which is happiness, and of the 
 unswerving fiilfilment of obligation which is the external manifestation of justice and 
 virtue.'" To ask whether happiness is compatible with a diseased soul is still more 
 absurd than to expect it to dwell in a diseased body.'" 
 
 The second argiiment is very brief, and Plato is probably aware that at the best 
 it commands assent rather than inspires conviction.'" The three faculties of the soul, 
 taken abstractly, yield three types of pleasure — the pleasures of pure intelligence, of 
 ambition, and of appetite. Plato assumes that the pleasures of intelligence belong to 
 the man in whom the intellect directed toward the good controls the other faculties. 
 In other words, he takes for granted the coincidence on the highest plane of intellect 
 and virtue which he found in Socrates and which the education of the Republic secures 
 in the guardians.'" Now, the advocate of the intellectual and virtuous life has neces- 
 sarily had some experience of the pleasures associated with gratified ambition and 
 appetite. The ambitious man and the sensuous man know little or nothing of the 
 higher order of pleasure. The preference of the " intellectual " for his own type of 
 pleasure must be ratified as based on a completer experience. It would be a waste of 
 time to cavil on minor fallacies or rhetorical exaggerations with which Plato burdens 
 the argument in his eagerness to make a strong case.'" The argument itself is familiar 
 
 168 Rep., 357 A B, aw B, 367 A B, 367 E. i" Rep., 580 D ff. "* Cf. supra, p. 11. 
 
 l«9369AB, 392AB, 427 D, 445A, 544 A. "SQrote ami Mill object that this arBUment, oven if 
 
 i"0576Cff IT' 44** E conclusive, is addressed to the wrong point, because the 
 
 life supposed is not that of the simple, just man, but that 
 
 I" 445 A, 091 B, 589 E; Gorj?., 512 A, 479 B; "already" in „f the philosopher But the case of the simple just man is 
 
 Crito, 47 D E. „,gj l,y j|,g main areumcnts drawn from the order, har- 
 
 152
 
 PaulHhokey 27 
 
 enough through its acceptance in substance by John Stuart Mill ; who, however, seems 
 to think Plato's use of it fallacious. It has been rejectcnl as a fallacy on tin; ground 
 that pleasure is not an objective measurable entity, but a relative individual feeling. 
 Again at the limits of human thought we are confronted by an alternative the terms 
 of which it is impossible to realize distinctly. Is it better to be a completely con- 
 tented pig than a man ? But if we waive the claim that the argument is an absolute 
 proof, and turn from these unreal abstractions to the facts of life, what Plato affirms is 
 simply that it is more pleasurable in the end to develop and fost(>r the capacity for 
 the "higher" pleasures than that for tiio lower, as is shown by tlie judgment of those 
 who have experienced both. In this less absolute form the argument leans for support 
 on that which precedes, and still more on that which follows it. 
 
 In the third place, the lower pleasures as compared with the higher are illusory, 
 unreal, and impermanent, and they tend to destroy the healthy balance of faculties 
 which is the condition of all true pleasure.''^ This is a repetition or anticipation''' 
 of the theory of the negativity of pleasure which we have already met in the polemic 
 against hedonism. 
 
 This completes our sketch of the Platonic ethics. The rest is exhortation, inspi- 
 ration, myth, things oiiic arjSe'a-Tepa aKoveiv, but not within the scope of the present 
 study, nor indeed reproducible in any study. For the ethical and religious spirit that 
 informs every page of Plato we must go to the master himself. 
 
 II. THEORY OF IDEAS 
 
 Plato's theory of ideas is (1) primarily a realistic way of speaking of the univer- 
 sal; (2) a jioetic and mythical extension of this realistic language, by which the uni- 
 versal is treated, not only as a thing, but as a thing of beauty and object of desire and 
 aspiration ; (3) in relation to metaphysics, it is the definite and positive assertion that 
 the substantive essences, or rather the objective correlates, of general notions consti- 
 tute the ultimate ontological units of reality to which psychological and logical 
 analysis refer us as the only escape from a Heraclitean or Protagorean philosophy of 
 pure relativity. In the first sense the ideas occur throughout the dialogues. It is 
 irrational to look for the other forms of the doctrine except when the argument natu- 
 rally leads up to them. A Kantian does not expatiate upon the Dimj-an-sich in an 
 
 mony, and health of the soul, and from the analysis of proximate to these types. And the statement of the argu- 
 
 pleasure. Here Plato is renewing the debate between the ment in the Laws applies to the simple just man, 663 C, 
 
 " philosopher," the sensualist, and the politician begun in ra aSiKa . . . . cV fih' aSUov Kal kokov favTov Oewpoi'/ifra ijSea, 
 
 the Gorfjias. He is indulging his feolings in a demonstra- etc., .... tJjc 6' aA»j0ciov rijs KpitrtM^ norfpai" xi'piujTepa^ elvat. 
 
 tion that in the Athens of his day the " philosophic " life ^utfjiey; iroTfpa ttji* rqs x^'po*"**? ^vxh^ V '''h^ ^v^ ^eArioros. 
 is a higher and happier type than the life of the politician 
 or the sensualist; and he holds that no real reform is pos- 
 
 "« iJep., 583 B-586C. 
 
 sible until men can be found who approach political lite as '"'Zeller thinks it a r6sum6 of the fuller treatment of 
 anecessary, not a desirable, thing, condescending toit from the Fhilehus. Those who put the Fhilebus late regard it 
 a life which they feel to be higher and more pleasurable as a preliminary sketch. The Fhilebus is probably late, 
 (c/. ii!e/?., 521 B). The form of the argument of the i?epit6i/r as Mill affirmed before Sprachstatistik was conceived, 
 is determined by the purpose of contrasting the extreme But the psychology of pleasure in the two dialogues sup- 
 types of the virtuous philosopher and the finished tyrant. plies no evidence. Cf. infra, ''Plato's Psychology," and 
 But it applies to other men in proportion as they ap- Part II. 
 
 153
 
 28 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 essay on universal peace. Plato discussed many topics that did not require embellish- 
 ment by the mythical description of the idea as type, or the explicit reaffirmation of 
 the idea as noumenon. And the apparent absence of either from a given dialogue 
 proves nothing. 
 
 Plato's fearless and consistent realism is so repugnant to "common sense" that 
 modern critics either take it as proof of the naivet6, not to say childishness, of his 
 thought, or extenuate the paradox by arguing that he could not have meant it 
 seriously and must have abandoned or modified the doctrine in his maturer works. 
 All such interpretations spring from a failure to grasp the real character of the meta- 
 physical pi'oblem and the historical conditions that made Plato adopt and cling to this 
 solution. From Heraclitus to John Stuart Mill human thought has always faced the 
 alternative of positing an inexplicable and paradoxical noumenon, or accepting the 
 "flowing philosophy." No system can escape the dilemma. Plato from his youth up 
 was alternately fascinated and repelled by the philosophy of Heraclitus. No other 
 writer has described so vividly as he the reign of relativity and change in the world 
 of phenomena.'" Only by affirming a nouiiienon could he escape Heracliteanism as 
 the ultimate account of (1) being, and (2) cognition.'" He chose or found this noume- 
 non in the hypostatized concepts of the human mind, the objects of Socratic inquiry, 
 the postulates of the logic he was trying to evolve from the muddle of contemporary 
 dialectic, the realities of the world of thought so much more vivid to him than the 
 world of sense.""' This is the account of the matter given by Aristotle'" and con- 
 firmed by the dialogues. Except in purely mythical passages, Plato does not attempt 
 to describe the ideas any more than Kant describes the Ding-an-sich or Spencer the 
 "Unknowable." He does not tell us what they are, but that they are. And the diffi- 
 culties, clearly recognized by Plato, which attach to the doctrine thus rightly limited, 
 are precisely those that confront any philosophy that assumes an absolute. 
 
 Plato's particular selection of the hypostatized concept for his absolute seems 
 more paradoxical only because, from the common-sense point of view of a convenient 
 but inconsistent conceptualism, we ignore the real philosophical alternative of consist- 
 ent nominalism or consistent realism, and forget the historical conditions that forced 
 Plato to make his choice. Realism was for Plato not merely the only metaphysical 
 alternative to Protagorean relativity; it was the only practicable way of affirming the 
 validity of universals and abstract thought. The psychology and logic of modern 
 nominalism as gradually worked out by Locke, Berkeley, John Stuart Mill, and 
 Taine, did not exist. The modern flowing philosopher can give a plausible account of 
 
 li85»mp.,207DE; Tm., 43 BC, 44 A B, 52 E, 69 C D; concepts ideas (which he did!) it his starting-point had 
 
 !^/^Cffie(., 156 ff. been the hypustatization of the concept, and (which is 
 
 i"Crafi/i., 4.39, 440; Themtet., 179 ff., 185, 186; Tim., 21 D, partly true) that he would not have put forth the paradox 
 
 28 A, 49Dff., 51 BC. Less dircictly pertinent are Soph., at all if he had not felt the necessity of positins some 
 
 249 B ; CratyL, 3S6; Phileh., 58 E, with licp., 533 B. reality beyond the world of sense. This last Apelt confirms 
 
 i»ol do not mean that Plato said: "Go to, I need "a by iVc(., lOlOfc, 2", which, however, proves nothing for Plato, 
 
 nmtmetum, I will hypi.^tatize the Socratic concepts," as it merely states a favorite thought of Aristotle. 
 which a malicious critic miuht infrr from Ai'KLt'« argu- "i We(., 1, 0, 987a, 2911., 1086b. 
 
 ment {Seitrdtje, pp. Kl~3), that Plato wouhl have ui.ade all 
 
 151
 
 Paul Shokey 29 
 
 the universal, recognizes the general term as a convenient algebraic symbol, and so 
 accepts the old logic as a practical working instrument of thought. But in Plato's 
 time the old logic was still to be created, and the cruder forms of nominalism and 
 relativity which he combated blocked the way by captious objections to the normal 
 and necessary use of general terms.'"" The theory of ideas, then, often appears to be 
 mainly, if not merely, an affirmation of the concept apart from explicit insistence on 
 any theory of its psychological or ontological nature."' But the main issue is 
 unaffected by this fact. Even if he had been acquainted with the analysis of Mill 
 and Taine,'" Plato would have continued to ask: Are the good and the beautiful and 
 similar essences something or nothing?"' Can everything in the idea be explained as 
 the natural product of remembered and associated sensations?"*" Is not man's power 
 of abstraction something different in kind from any faculty possessed by the brute?'" 
 Not all the refinements of the new psychology can disguise the fact that the one 
 alternative commits us to the "flowing philosophers," the other to some form of Pla- 
 tonism. For the answer that the "good" and the "beautiful" are only concepts of 
 the mind is an evasion which commends itself to common-sense, but which will satisfy 
 no serious thinker. If these concepts are the subjective correlates of objective reali- 
 ties, we return to the Platonic idea — for Plato, it must be remembered, does not say 
 what the ideas are, but only that they are in some sense objective and real.'" If the 
 concepts are the natural products of casual associations, accidental eddies in the 
 stream of sense, the "flowing philosophy" receives us again."" Moreover, though this 
 
 ^^^ Phileb.^ 14 D, (r</io5pa rots Aoyois i/xnoSia; 15 A, 13 DE; juTjSei- ayaBov elfoi /xjjfie KoKov .... irX'riv fv \J^VXTJ. Parmen,, 
 
 Parmen., 135 ('; &'op/i., 251 B C ; Theoetet., 157 A B, 167 A, 130 B, «ai «aAoi; «al .ivaSoO, etc. 
 
 ISOD; JSuthydein., 301 A andpassitn. ... „. ^ „ 
 
 IssPAtrrfo, 96B; TAeoEfef., 156, 157, 184D, ei jToAAac- Tii.« 
 
 183Bep«6., 596 A; Pha-dr., 249 B, though immediately iy i^xlf ^a-nep (v iov/tuon 'inwoK aiaOriatit i-yKiBriprai, ii^\i ,lj, 
 followed by iviiivr,,TK\ Philebus, 16 D, and aU passages that ei, ^ia^ ru-i ISeaf, tWe ^vni" elre 6 tc Stl KoJ^tlf iroiira roOra 
 
 describe the true method of generalization and division— ^vvrni'd.. Tim., 51 C, !i raOra iirep ko.1 fiMno^ev (cf iwip 
 
 Phcedr., 265, 266, 270 D; .Sopft., 226 C, 235 C, 253; Poii<.,285A; ip,;,^, Rep., 515 B; Parmen., 130 D), iio-a t. iAAa a.i roO 
 
 Cratyl., 424 C; Laws^ 894 A, 9bo C. trw/xaTo? aicrdacd/xc^a, fiova. iarl Toiavnjc cj^ofxa akrjOeiav. 
 
 18* To Mill (Cm. and Discuss., IV, p. 300) the Platonic m Pha-dr., 249 B, «« yip i.9pu„ro.. fu.uVa. «ar' ,Uo, \,y6- 
 
 ideas "are only interesting as the first efforts of original ^,^„^_ ^, ,„^^i^ i„^ a\.^en„,^v ,1, iv Aoyco-mcJ (vvc,po^ij.,v^v. 
 
 and inventive minds to let in light on a dark subject." „0ro ii .Vr.. iviy.,^,,,^, etc. Cnityl., 399 C, M<i.o. ri,. 9,pcW 
 
 They belong to the "theories which have arisen in in- ^^9^, ^ i.Spo,™, i.»p^no<: i.0Mi<rfl,, i.aSpi^ 4 i„^7,€v. 
 
 genious minds from an imperfect conception of the pro- phokIo, 75 B, iri ^ivja ri iv -raU o.i<,ei,a,a.v c<e.Vou r. Jpiycrai 
 
 cesses of abstraction and generalization." But it is not ,-„j j i^Tiv laov etc 
 reaUy thinkable that the author of the Sophist, PoUiicus, 
 
 and Phcedrus (249 B) did not "understand" the common- '^^ Parmen., 132, yoiiiiaSi ouiei-ot; .... oi-tos ^ oCk oi-rot; 
 sense explanation of the universal through abstraction and • • ■ ''''"» "'" ''*" eVrai touto to yooOnevoy iy eli-ai, iei o^ to 
 generalization. He rejected it, on the contrary, precisely """ ^'" "'»<"•■; Lutosl.-iwski, p. 403, misquotes and mis- 
 because he foresaw that, if consistently carried out and interprets this passage. Peofessoe Ritchie, Plato, pp. 
 accepted as the final account of the matter, it leads ^1' 112, 113, recognizes that it is conclusive against con- 
 straight to Mill's ultimate philosophy, which he would not ceptualism. Cf. Zeller, p. 668. The further objection 
 have on any terms. that if the ideas are thoughts and things partake of them, 
 
 185 Protaff., 330 C, i J.,«i<.<rwn npiyp.i Ti iar.y r, oiiiy ^^'"^^ ■""=*' "*'°''' '^ generally treated as a verbal equivo- 
 
 Tpiy^a ; PftcEdo, 65 D, .^.^Lc. T. cl.ac 6.«a.o. airh ^ oii,v ; 76 E, '=''"°°: '?'• f «"'!"'e»i., 287 D E. But, for the underlying 
 
 m A I' • ii - iftAt? 1- ■ ■ iii • - ■ • ,» • metaphysical problem, see my discussion of Aristotle de 
 
 rri. * * if^T r* • ■ • ■> • » V - ■ • Anima. 429 fc 26 in A. J. P.. Vol. XXII, pp. 161 £f. 
 
 ayaQov Kol *caAdf. CratyL, 440 B, ci 6e .... eari Serb KaXov, ^^^ Cf. the characterization of positivism or phenom- 
 
 ctTTc 6i TO aya96v. Sophist, 247 A-B, to ye Bvi-aTov t(j» irapa- enalism In Rep., 516 C D, KaBopui'Ti. ra napioira Kal fiyrjfi.0- 
 ■ytyveaSat koi aTToyiyvftrOai iravTui^ etrat Tt <t>yjiT0Vi7iv .... i-eiiocri ^aAicTTo, oca re nporepa auTtaji- xai vtmpa fiutOft Kai afia 
 
 ovcn}<: ovv {txatoo-iii'jjs. etc. Phileb., 55 B, n-iis ovk dAoyof e'o-Tt iropcueo-tfai. C/, also P/lCEdo, 96 B C ; Gorj?., 501 A B. 
 
 155
 
 30 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 point is not explicitly made by Plato, a concept of the mind, even apart from objective 
 reference, either is or is not an entity of another than the natural or sensuous order. 
 If it is, we are di-iven back upon Platonism. For, though the Platonic ideas are more 
 than thoughts if thoughts are only decaying sense, thoughts, if radically different 
 from sensations, become entities that may assume the role of Platonic ideas, as they 
 do in the ultimate philosophy of Aristotle, and in the interpretation of those Pla- 
 tonists, ancient and modern, who conceive the ideas as thoughts of God. This is 
 not Plato's doctrine, but only a plausible development of it by those who cannot 
 acquiesce in his wise renunciation of systematic dogmatism."" In these matters Plato 
 affirms no more than is necessary for his fixed faiths and purposes.'"' The objective 
 reality in some sense of ideas (but no more) was so necessary. That it was a hard 
 saying is as well known to him as it is to his critics."" And he has anticipated their 
 objections. But this doctrine, or something equally and similarly paradoxical, was 
 and is the sole alternative to a philosophy which he and the majority of his modern 
 critics cannot and will not accept. The burden of proof rests heavily, then, on those 
 who affirm that at any time he did or could abandon or seriously modify it. A survey 
 of the dialogues discovers no evidence in support of such a contention. 
 
 For this purpose the dialogues fall into three (or four) groups: (1) Those that 
 are supposed to precede the doctrine ; or (2) to lead up to it ; (3) those in which it is 
 most specifically affirmed or mythically embellished ; (4) those in which it is criticised 
 or, as some say, abandoned or modified. In the case of the first and fourth group the 
 argument is often made to turn upon the meaning to be assigned to elSo';, ISea, and 
 other terms elsewhere distinctly appropriated to the transcendental idea. We are 
 repeatedly warned that the mere use of the words eZSo? and IBea is no evidence of the 
 transcendental doctrine. This is obvious ; but it is equally true that the possibility of 
 taking these words in a conceptual sense raises no presumption that they must be taken 
 in that sense exclusively and that the doctrine was absent from Plato's mind at the 
 time. Such an assumption is made by modern critics in the interest of theories of 
 development, or to free as many dialogues as possible from the distasteful paradox. 
 But Plato was always at liberty to use the terminology of the ideas conceptually for 
 the practical logical uses of definition and classification — even in the transcendental 
 Phcedrus.^^^ All Platonic ideas are concepts. It does not follow that they are ever 
 in Plato's intention no more than concepts. And, in any case, the absence of the 
 theory from any given dialogue pi'oves no more than does the virtual absence from the 
 Laws of all metaphysics, including the "later" theory of ideas. 
 
 190 Cf. infra. Part II, Philebm. j^an the Pha-do and Republic; LuTOgLAWSKi (pp. 340, 341), 
 
 191 Mow, 86 B, «ai tA ^iv Y« «*A« ""< i" "i™ i"'«P ■">« that it must be later, because, if we interpret rightly, wo 
 Adyou Siiffxi'pii'ai^))^, etc. " s„„n get quit of the riddle of self-existing ideas " and per- 
 
 i'« /Jcp., 532 D, 476 A; Parmen., 13uBC; Philcb., 15 A B; ceivo that " i5ea and elJo? are used in a meaning which is 
 
 Tim., 51 C D ; infra, p. 36. identical with the idea as conceived by Kant, a necessary 
 
 1'3 237 C, 249 B, 263 E. Cf. also the loose popular use of concept of reason." Of course, Kant's ideas of reason are 
 
 «Wo? and iifa 237 D, 238 A, 253 C D. NATOftP, Hermes, Vol. misapplied here and all Lutoslawski means is " Begriff," 
 
 XXXV, p. 409, infers that the Pha-ilrus, " must" be earlier "concept." 
 
 156
 
 Paul Shorey 31 
 
 Premising thus much, we turn to the first group. In the Apolofjij, Crito, Laches, 
 Lysis, Charmidcfi, Mencrenus, first four books of the Repuhlic,^'^ ProUtyoras,^''" and 
 (some affirm) the Euthyphro, Gorgius, and Eidhydemns there is no distinct mention 
 of the (Platonic) ideas. There was no occasion for it in the Apolony, Crito, and 
 Mencrenus, and little, if any, in the others. The relation of the Lysis, Charmides, 
 and Laches to Plato's mature ethical theories and the subtlety of the Charmides and 
 Lysis "° make it improbable that they antedate the main tenet of his philosophy. This 
 is still more obvious in the case of the Menexenus (387 (?), rot. 40).'°' The realistic 
 language used of the definition in the Euthyphro must be presumed to imply what a 
 similar terminology does elsewhere.'™ The joke about irapovala in the Eiifhydemus is 
 a distinct and familiar allusion to the Platonic idea of beauty."" Had Plato omitted 
 that jest, the absence of the doctrine would prove no more than it does in the case of 
 the Protagoras. 
 
 More interesting than this balancing of probabilities is the evidence presented by 
 the Gorgias. This magnificent composition may or may not be earlier than the Meno, 
 Phcedo, Enthydemus, and Cratylns. It is certainly not appreciably less mature. It 
 distinguishes and classifies "ideas" in the manner rather of the "later" dialogues,^"" 
 and although it contains no explicit and obvious mention of the transcendental idea,^"' 
 the doctrine is clearly suggested for all readers who look below the surface. It is 
 worth while to dwell upon the point. In the Cratylus, 389 C, employing the termi- 
 nology of the ideas in the manner of Republic, 596 A B, 597 B,^"^ Socrates says that 
 the workman who makes a tool puts into the material, the iron, the idea of the tool 
 that exists in nature.""' Similarly in Eepublic, 500 D, the philosopher statesman puts 
 
 1M402C aud 437, 438, presumably imply the ideas, but etc., see my remarks in .1. J. P., Vol. IX, No. 3, p. 287.) More- 
 could be taken merely of concepts, classes or species. Not over, Plato never affirmed the presence absolutely of the 
 so 5S5 in Book IX. Pfleiderer therefore, in order to elimi- idea with or in the particular (/*armc?i., 131 A B; Phileb,, 
 nate the ideas from Books VIII and IX, pronounces 580 B- 15B), but only its presence or communication somehow. 
 588A a later addition. The rt of waAAo? rt expresses this and Socrates's embarrass- 
 
 195 But Cf. 330C, i «i«a.OTi.i.,) ^piy^i Tt ccTTil. i oM;.- ment very well. C/. Pft«?do, 100 D, .Ire :rapo.;cr.a dre ,<>ir<»^.-<i 
 irpiY^a ; 349 B, ^ (.icrTo, ri,v hvoy.iT.^v tou™v iTrd.ciTa.' T15 ISio? "'•« ""^D «ij «»'' S""' "pocTVCO/xev,). So Symp., 211 B, /ierexovTa 
 oiiuia. Koi irpivfxa ixav cauToO Sul-a^iv iKaarov ; 330 E, avri) i, -rpomv Tii-i toioOtoi', etc. 
 
 otribni!. 200 JowETT, Vol. IV, p. 4.36 : " The same love of divisions 
 
 190 Cf. supra, n. 108. is apparent in the Gorgias." Cf. 454 E, 455 A, in manner of 
 
 l9TWUamowit2has somewhere denied the Platonic tho Sophist. C/. 464, 465. It could be plausibly arsued that 
 
 authorship of the Mencrenus, but he may have a -pec the definition of rhetoric -roAm«„ ^op.ov e.S.Ao. (463D) as 
 
 ■ »»• TT-ii-iJui. V. J explained in 4o4, 4bo, is a fuller and more explicit statement 
 
 cam in reserve. Life is short to debate such paradoxes ; ^ ^^^^^ .^ ^, -, , ^ , ^ „ „ . ^ 
 
 K«f if .,„.. «*K«t;-,«« «.;ii ^^ 1 ui ,*■ *; „ » *-v.« ^ ; ^ of the doctrine of foi/7ict«, 291 B aud 303 E-304 A, as to the 
 
 but II any athetizer will stake his reputation on the point, ^ . .... ..... 
 
 .-c . . difficulty of distineuishing the statesman from his imita- 
 
 tors and the true relation of p-qropfta to itKaa-TiK-q and 
 
 198 5 D^ ravTOf .... avTo auTuJ, etc.; 6 D E, T(I)f TroAAaif SatriAixn 
 
 otriuiv {cf. Phcedo^ 78 D, ri Be rwr TroAAun- *caAu>f ; Rep., 596 A, _ 
 
 ,E .. . ^ • \ 1 • \ ■ • - 't • ^'^' But cf. 474 D, aTToBAcn-cuc ; 488 D, Ta Tuiv noWtai' vo/J-tfia, 
 
 etoo5 .... €f ... . irept tKaara Ta TToAAa) — auTO to €i5os <«, j ^ >- ■> ^ 
 
 „4.^ fnt. 1 -lAATi - ^ • nr --on " tjt with .ffe»., 479 D, Ttt Ttov TToKkuiv iToAAa voixtfi-a, etc.; Gorg,, 
 
 t y •'\ ■ a\ ■ f ■ 497 E, Trapouffi'a .... oi? av KaAAos iraprj. 
 
 fit o), aiToaMiTUiV .... irapaOiiytiaTt. i r . m 
 
 189 301 A. It IS not the word nap«TTt that proves this, . • 7 , , r i r- . i 
 
 but the entire context eT#pa avrov ye roii jtaAoO, etc. LUTOS- v^o'ct ovo-a (k ivrj). 
 
 LAW9KI (p. 212) affirms that Plato " would have said later 203 On this passage as the chief Platonic source of the 
 
 irdpfart TO itaAAos (avrb Ka6' auTo)." He never did say, nor Aristotelian doctrine of matter and form see my remarks 
 
 could he have said, anything of the kind. Tlapeo-ri .... in .<4. J. P., Vol. XXII, No. 2, p. 158. Campbell, overlooking 
 
 avTo KaQ' ainb he would have felt as a contradiction in this passage, finds in Po^7.. 288 D, the earliest approach to 
 
 terms. (On the correct and incorrect use of avra KaS' avra, the distinction of matter and form. 
 
 157
 
 32 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 into the plastic stuff of human nature the forms or ideas of justice and temperance 
 which he contemplates as existing in the transcendental world [iicel), and so becomes 
 an artisan of political and popular virtue.'"' Expressed in slightly different imagery, 
 this is the function of the statesman in the Politicus, 309 C (c/. 308 C D). He is to 
 implant in those rightly prepared by education, fixed, true opinions concerning the 
 honorable, the just, and the good.'"^ The thought and the imagery belong to Plato's 
 permanent stock. We find them in the Gorgias, 508 E-504 D.™ Here, too, Plato 
 conceives the true teacher, artist, or statesman as contemplating ideas or forms, which 
 he strives to embody in the material with which he works, even as the Demiurgus of 
 the Timtvus stamps the ideas upon the matter of generation. 
 
 The origin, first suggestion, exposition, or proof of the theory of ideas is variously 
 sought by different critics in the Meno, the Cratjjlits, the Thecetetus, or even in the 
 Phcedrus, Pannenides, and Si/mposium. Obviously Plato could at any time argue 
 indirectly in support of the ideas as necessary postulates of ontology and epistemology. 
 Our chief concern is with the hypothesis that the exposition of some particular dia- 
 logue marks a date in the development of his own thought. The doctrine of remin- 
 iscence is introduced in the Meno to meet an eristic use of a puzzle allied to the 
 psychological problem of "recognition."""' How, if we do not already know, shall 
 we recognize a triith or a definition when we have found it?"™ Socrates replies that 
 the soul has seen all things in its voyagings through eternity, and that all our learning 
 here is but recollection.""" This theory is confirmed in the case of mathematical ideas 
 by Socrates's success in eliciting by prudent questions a demonstration of the Pythag- 
 orean proposition from Meno's ignorant slave."'" The Phcedo distinctly refers to this 
 argument as a proof of the reality of ideas,'" and the myth in the Phcedrus describes 
 the ante-natal vision of the pure, colorless, formless, essences of true beiug."'' It fol- 
 lows that, though the ideas are not there explicitly mentioned, the reminiscence spoken 
 of in the 3Ieno must refer to them.'" But it is extremely improbable that this repre- 
 sents Plato's first apprehension of the doctrine. Psychologically and historically the 
 origin of the theory is to be looked for in the hypostatization of the Socratic concept 
 and the reaction against Heracliteanism."* Its association with Pythagoreanism and 
 
 20<a e«et opa ^eAcT^aat fts ay0pujn<itv ri^Tf} .... Tidevat ^07 3/eno. 80 D ff. Cf, my dissertation Z>e Platonis ideor 
 
 .... 5i)iJ.iOvpyov .... ata^pouijvr\<i T« »cac £iKaioo't;fi}9. Cf. TUVtl doctrina, pp. 15 ff. 
 
 501 B, :rv«pi iv Uarepuiat ino?\i„oi(y .... Ka.\ irpot ijitlyo ai 2m aire (^rclv oJt. iwoptlw iycv ^poA.);(,£a,5, Scxt. Ernpir. 
 
 o iv Tois avSpuiWOi^ e^jrotoiei'. Cf. Polit., 309 D, ToyTo avTO Math 1 57 
 
 „, . , , , , • , . 1, f V J 209 " L'univers peut dire comme le Dieu de Pascal: 'Tn 
 
 205This does not refer exclusively to the higher educa- u i. • ■ i ■ • ja->. t- ,.„<>" 
 
 ■7 11 <K J n ne me chercherais pas, si tu ne m avaisdeja trouve. — 
 
 tion, as Zeller aflirms. ^ ^ .... FoniLLfiE. C/. Po((<., 278 D; Tim.. 41 E, riir toO ^avrbs ((iiiir.v 
 
 2^l6ajroPAeffioi' Trpo? Tt .... onu}^ av Ah6<; Ti aiirt^ uxxj rovro eSeife. Cf. infra p. 43. 
 
 h ip-yd^frai. This is applied first to the body, then to the ■nnnott 
 
 soul. The Taft? an<l <co(r^o9 of the soul is 5iicaio<ri'i'>7 and 
 
 vm^poavvt) wpbs THuTO ^AtJ^(u^•, etc. The pr/Tuip ayaQbi 211 73 A. 
 
 ..-. Tex^.«i>5 here = the true woAitcw. And we may note in 3,2247 ff., 249 C, toOto ii iirr^v iydi^vri^.: J,..Vcor, etc. 
 
 passing that the Gorgian " already " recognizes that rheto- 
 ric might be an art. The popular rhetoric is none because "-'The realistic terminology of the dcfinitiou would 
 
 it ignores the ideas (1) as ethical ideals (Gorgias), (2) justify the same inference. Cf. 74,73. 
 as the basis of scientific dialectic ^Phtzdr^w). 2U cf. supra, p. 28. 
 
 158
 
 Paul Shoeey 33 
 
 the ante-natal life of the soul is mythical embellishment; and its application to the 
 problem of the a j)riori element in human knowledge is a secondary confirmation of 
 its truth.'" Nevertheless the Meno, which John Stuart Mill pronounces " a little gem," 
 is admirably adapted to serve as an introduction to the Platonic philosophy. It exem- 
 plifies in brief compass the Socratic method and the logic of the definition in termi- 
 nology that suggests the ideas, touches on higher things in the theory of recollection 
 and the problem of a priori knowledge, and clearly resumes the dramatic, ethical, and 
 political puazles that prepare for the teaching of the Republic. Socrates's mention of 
 the ideas at the close of the Cratrjlus as something of which he dreams as an alterna- 
 tive to Heracliteanism is taken by some critics to indicate that we have here an intro- 
 duction to or a first presentment of the doctrine.'^'" They overlook two considerations: 
 (1) the theory is taken for granted at the beginning of the dialogue, as we have already 
 seen;^" (2) there are no traces of immaturity in the thought of the Cratijlus. The 
 polemic against the flowing philosophers and the forms of eristic associated with them 
 is, in a jesting form, as sharp, and the apprehension of the real issues as distinct as 
 it is in the Thea-fetus and Soj^/i /s/.^" 
 
 Some scholars look upon the ThecBtetus as a propaedeutic introduction to the 
 ideas,^" while others take it as marking the transition to the later theory. Strictly 
 speaking, neither view can be correct, since, though the ideas are not often or very 
 explicitly mentioned, there is enough to show the presence of the doctrine in its normal 
 form. The ayaOov and kuXov, claimed for being as against becoming in 157 D, is 
 almost technical for the aSirmation of the ideas.^"" The -n-apaBeiynaTa of 176 E can 
 hardly refer to anything else. And the close parallel between 18f) AB and Republic, 
 523, 52-1, admits no other interpretation. Among the votito. which the soul grasps by 
 
 2I5PROFES30E Ritchie's suggestion (.Plato, pp. 86, 8") tinctly implies that irii'Ta pei includes qualitative change, 
 
 that the Platonic idea is a generalization of the Pythag- Cf. 439 D, on toioOtoi-, 4-tO A, iMo xai iAAoioi' viy^-oiTo .... 
 
 orean treatment of mathematics is unsupported by evi- onoloy yd ri iuTu-. iS^Tl, i^ri6iv ili<rTiiitfof T^sai/roO iSeat (c/. 
 
 dence. See, however, Zellee, pp. 654-6, for suggestions Tim., 50 B, and flep., 3S0D). Cf. the whole context of the 
 
 of other pre-Socratic influences on the theory. argument and the use of un-ef cpxfai, Cratyl., 439 D ; Thetetet, 
 
 216 So once Susemihl in his Genctische Entwickelung, 182 D- lu fact, the association of motion and qualitative 
 
 Vol. I, p. 161. LCTOSLAWSKI, pp. 221, 225, thinks the ideas <''ia°g<' ^^s always a commonplace with Plato. Both " be- 
 
 are not formulated even here, but only a something which foi-e " and " after " the ThecEtctus ^.ra^oA^ and pe.. etc are 
 
 in later dialogues proves to be the ideas I The terminology "^ed freely in both meanings. Cf. Repuh., 3S0 E ff., which 
 
 is complete -.!6oi, aire, h eVrc, to .^.u^e., Trol pA.Vu,;- 389, ei Sc alone refutes L.'s "discovery.' ovko^v v„o ^.„ aAAov ra. 
 
 eVrt Si TO ,aA6r, .Vti « TO iya96y, cVti Si iv iKaarov ri,v '!"<'■"' 'X""" l-""^" ''^Ao.ovTai re ,oc «c^e.Ta.. The fact that 
 
 6.Ta„. (440 B). All these phrases might conceivably be used tte Thewtetus is slightly more explicit in formal classifica- 
 
 of notions, conceptual ideas. But this proves too much. "o'^ P™™^ nothing. The whole argument of the Cratylus 
 
 For, according to L., it holds of all dialogues except the Passage hinges on the distinction precisely as does the argu- 
 
 Symposium, Pftcedo, and parts of the BepuhUc, and he is me"^' of '^e Themletus. It appears explicitly again only 
 
 not quite sure of them. His real object is to eliminate the i" ^'^^ Parmenides, and not in the "late Philebus and 
 
 self-existent idea altogether. Timaius. It is not included in the ten kinds of motion in 
 
 „, , . ,„..„„„. the Laws, 893, 894, and L. finds it only by implication in 
 
 2" Cf. supra, p. 31. The doctrine of Cratyl., 389, is ^^^ ^^ .^^, ,^^_ ^^^ ^.^.^ ^.^.^ ,^„-^^^ ..^^^^^ iAAo.^<TB which 
 
 furthermore identical with that of Repub., 596 A ff. j^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^pjj^j^ ^^^^^ ^j^^ Cratylus or RepuhUc. 
 
 218386,439,440. On the ni if and i;<eu«ijs S6(ii fallacy, 
 
 429 ff., cf. infra, p. 53. On the pto.T.5 cf. 411 B C with "'W. J. Alexander in Studies Dedicated to Gdder- 
 
 Phcedo, 90 C; Phileb., 43 A. Lutoslawski affirms (pp. 366, ^teeve, p. 179, thinks its teaching to be: knowledge is of the 
 
 367) that the subdivision of «i...,o-., into *opi and dAAo.u,a« Weas, error arises from imperfect «pa^^,,T.5. 
 
 is a new and important discovery of the Thea-tetus, 181, C. ^'iosupra, n. 185. 
 He fails to note that the argument of Cratylus. 339, 340, dis- 
 
 159
 
 34 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 herself,^"' and whose essence is apprehended through their relation of opposition/"' 
 are mentioned, after oiiaia, the ofiotov and avo/xotov, the ravrbv and the erepov of the 
 Sophist. But also, as in the Parmenides, the ethical ideas, koKov, alaxpov, ayaOov, 
 and Kaicov;^' and lastly, as in the Republic, the qualities of sense, a-KXrjpov and ixaXuKov.''* 
 The actual sensation of these opposites comes of course through sense. But the ovaia 
 and the 6 ti earov, as in the Republic, is apprehended by the mind as an idea. There is 
 no argument for holding these ideas to be mere concepts that would not prove the same 
 for the Republic, which of course is impossible.'^^ This point established, we may 
 concede that the Thecctefns may be, not an introduction to the ideas, but an indirect 
 argument in support of the familiar doctrine. The polemic against Heraclitus is 
 always that.'"* And, though Plato himself may not be aware of it, the statement that 
 the syllable is not the sum of its elements, but fiia ISea a/iepto-ro?, embodies the prin- 
 ciple and justification of a realistic logic.'"' The conceptual whole is not the sum of 
 its parts, but a new entity and unity."' 
 
 What has been said of the Theceietns applies to Zeller's theory"' that the second 
 part of the Parmenides is an indirect argument for the ideas. That this is not the 
 main purpose of the Parmenides will appear in the sequel. And Zeller was mistaken 
 in stating that only relative contradictions followed from the being of the one, while 
 absolute contradictions resulted from its not being. But the Platonic idea is always 
 suggested by the antithesis of the one and the many. And in the eighth hypothesis, 
 164 B ff., the "one" and "others" are no longer treated with dialectical impartiality, 
 but there is a hint that the one may be regarded as the symbol of the idea. Symme- 
 try leads us to expect the argument that, if the one is not (relative /xj; oV), other things 
 both are and are not all contradictory predicates. Instead of "are" we find "appear" 
 or "seem." Other things are indefinite bulks that break up under inspection and 
 only seem to partake of unity and other predicates that derive from unity. These 
 ojKoi certainly suggest the world of matter uninformed by ideas, the " being" of the 
 materialists which the friends of ideas in the Soj^Jrist call "becoming" and break up 
 into little bits."" And the statement that, as they cannot be other than the (non- 
 existent) one, they are the other of one another, reminds us of aW?;X,ot9 .... avv- 
 
 221 auTTj ri »//vxT 186 B. C/. 187 A ; Fhusdo, 65 C; /?ep., r)24 paradox, but passes on to show how mathematics leads 
 BC, 52fiB. the miud to the apprehension of abstract and ideal unity. 
 
 222 T^v ivo.vTL6rr,,a npb, iAA^Au. Cf. Rep., 524 D, 5 i^iv .it Philebiis, 14 D ff., is concerned with logical method ; Bep., 
 i^v a;<r9,ac^ iK« Toit e^a^Tioii eauToIt «V;ri7r7£.. Mr. Henry 523-6, with psychology and education. But the thought of 
 Jackson and others confound this special use of wpbt ixx^Aa tlie Republic is not less mature, and is, indeed, repeated in 
 withri :rpdsTi, relative terms generally, by the aid of Par- P'iile6., 56E =iecp., 525D E. 
 
 men., 1.330. The T/tecp^e/7ts passage is the source of Her- 226ou6e»' etrai er avrb wad' aurd, etc. 157 A is the diametri- 
 
 modorus's distinction of ffp6« tVepa into ffpbs ei-ai-Tta and jrpds cal opposite of the ideas — Aval n KaKhv ain'o Ka9^ aird, 
 
 Ti, which Zelleb (p. 706) says is not found in Plato. Phcedo, 100 B. 
 S23 130 B after 6^.oidn,5. 227 205 C, 203 E. 
 
 22* 1 56 B with i?CP 524 A 22S C/. Parwjen., 157 D, oi-* dpa twv ttoAAwf ovie irai'Twi' rb 
 
 fiopLOV fA.6piov, dAAa ^lac nvbi iSea^ Kal ivoi TLVoi b Ka^ovp-fV oAor. 
 
 See also .1. J. P., Vol. XXII, No. 2, p. l.'kS. 
 
 225THOMPSON on Mino, 74 D,says that problems which 
 in Phileh., 14 D, are 6«b7j/nfuM<''a are made the bases of a 
 dialectical course in Rep., .523-6. This is a misapprchen- ""Set forth in his Phitonic Studies and the earlier edi- 
 
 sion. The Republic mentions (525 A) that the same object '■'""s of his History, but now virtually withdrawn. 
 is perceived as one and many. It does not sport with the '^3<^ Soph., 2iQB.C. 
 
 160
 
 Paul Shobey 35 
 
 BeSeaOai in the theory of pure relativity in Thccptetns, 160 B. Similar hints occur in 
 the fourth hypothesis, 157 B, which deals with aWa on the supposition that the one 
 is.^" The main conclusion that liXka, then, admit all contradictory predicates is indi- 
 cated very briefly (159 A). What is emphasized is the fact that aWa per se are 
 ttXtjOt] . . . . ev oh TO ev ovk evi, that they are uTreipa (cf. Fliilch.); that it is the one 
 which introdiices irepm tt/so? dWijXa; and that, having parts, these parts must relate 
 to /itS? Ttw t'Sea? Kal ew tiz/o?, 6 KaXovfiev 6\ov.'"' While the main object of the 
 Parmenides, then, is to illustrate the communion of ideas and the doctrine of relative 
 6u and fir) 6v set forth in the Sophist, there is a suggestion of polemic here and there 
 directed against the infinite and indefinite world without unity of the materialists, 
 relativists, and deniers of the ideas. But obviously the first origin and exposition of 
 the ideas is not to be sought in a work that deals with problems and diflSculties arising 
 from the doctrine.'^' 
 
 The Phcvdo, Phcedrus, Bepiiblic, and Symposium, the dialogues that are fullest 
 in explicit affirmation or mythical embellishment of the transcendental idea, need not 
 here detain us long. In his exaltation of pure thought and the dialectical method 
 Plato clothes the ideas in all the contradictory attributes of a sensuous, aesthetic type, 
 an ethical ideal, and a metaphysical noiimenon. He is perfectly aware of this, and the 
 inconsistency is common to all philosophies of the absolute."" In the Phcedrus as 
 elsewhere he warns us not to take the myth too seriously.^^'' In the Phcedo he 
 describes the doctrine as familiar,^** and reminds us that he does not insist upon the 
 precise terminology, but only on the central fact.^" In the Repuhlic every termi- 
 nology is employed from the most naive to the most severely logical or the most 
 transcendental."^' Despite these facts, attempts have been made to extract evidences 
 of contradiction or development from the varying imagery and terminology of these 
 dialogues. The unity of the Repuhlic has been broken up and its books variously 
 dated according to the absence of the theory, or its presence in an " earlier" or 
 "later" form. It has even been gravely argued in defiance of all psychological and 
 historical probability that the Symposium, which in consonance with its theme men- 
 tions the idea of beauty only, represents a stage of development in which the Platonic 
 
 231 Relative ov admittiug koikuWh. Socratic ethical concepts, not Platonic ideas, is refuted by 
 
 232 Thecetet, 203 204. ^^^ context (^ ToiavTTj ovata .... ai-cK^epeic ri if Tai? alaBri- 
 
 233 r*^ infra Part TT cttrt, etc.). The suggestion that the reference is to con- 
 
 versations abandons the whole case, unless they are limited 
 
 23*JowETT's common-sense and literary tact have an- j,, ^^^^ interval between the Mono and the Phado! The 
 
 swered literal-minded objectors once for all: "When the simple truth is that Plato may at any time refer to any 
 
 charioteers and their steeds stand upou the dome of heaven p^^t of his permanent beliefs as familiar doctrine. On the 
 
 they behold the intangible, invisible essences which are theory of development, to what discussions is reference 
 
 not objects of sight. This is because the force of language ^gde in Crito, 46 D, and 49 A B 7 To the Gorgias and Re- 
 
 cannofurthergo."-Vol. I, p. 412. pufidc I? Where has Plato often said that to ri aOroO 
 
 235 265C, Ta jLi€C d\Aa Ty oi-Ti Jra;5t9 ireiraiffffai. wpaTTeif is SiKaioffiJfi] ? (Rep,, 433 A). Where has Glaucon 
 
 oififT>u V iu- 1 i-u i iu -J u i_ heard ovk oAiyaitis that the idea of good is the y.iyi.iTTov 
 
 236 Those who think that the ideas have been men- u i rp 'ini'Pi 
 
 tioned in only one preceding dialogue, as the 3/e»io or Sy»i- t^^- ^^ P'> 
 
 posium, are much exercised by the 6ana AtYeii' of 72E, the 23ti00D. 
 
 aSpuAouMei-deiof 76D, andtheiroAu9pvA7)T»of lOOB. LuTOS- 238 596, 597, 585,534, 532, 514-17, 505-11, 500 D-501 B, 490 B, 
 
 LAWSKl'a statement (p. 292) that these terms may refer to 485 B, 476-80. 
 
 161
 
 36 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 philosophy contained but one transcendental idea, as if the problems of psychology 
 and ontology which the theory of ideas sought to meet or evade could have been in 
 any wise advanced by the hypostatization of one concept ! We have glanced at such 
 methods of reasoning already, and shall meet them again. At present we pass on to 
 the hypothesis that the Parmenides contains a criticism of the ideas which leads to 
 the abandonment or transformation of the theory in the fourth and latest group of 
 dialogues. This hypothesis rests on the assumption that the criticism of the Parmen- 
 ides is new, that Plato was bound either to answer it or give up the ideas, and that, 
 as a matter of fact, the transcendental idea is not found in the later dialogues. These 
 assumptions will not bear critical examination. 
 
 The objections brought forth against the ideas in the Parmenides are obvious 
 enough, and, as Jowett says, are unanswerable by anybody who separates the phe- 
 nomenal from the real. How can we bring the absolute into intelligible relation with 
 the relative? How can the absolute (" the Gods") take cognizance of us or we appre- 
 hend what is adapted to their thought?'^' How can we without self-contradiction 
 apply to it unity or plurality, or any other predicate of human knowledge?"" More 
 specifically, if the ideas are transcendental unities, how can we predicate multiplicity 
 or parts of them as wo must to connect them with one another and with phenomena?"* 
 How shall we interpret the figurative expressions that the ideas are present in things, or 
 that things participate in or imitate the ideas?"*" If the idea is the postulated corre- 
 late of every idem iyi mult is, why should we not assume an idea to explain the likeness 
 of the idea and the particular, and so on in infinite regression?'*^ To what extent the 
 form of these objections is due to contemporary critics, or the misunderstanding of 
 students, or the precocity of Aristotle, is an unprofitable inquiry. Their substance is 
 in the Rcpid)lic, not to speak of the Phcedo, the Eiithydemus, the TimcBiis, and 
 Philebiis.^** Their presentation in the Parmenides, then, does not mark a crisis in 
 Plato's thought calling for a review of his chief article of philosophic faith. Plato 
 does not and cannot answer them, but he evidently does not take them very seriously,''" 
 though he admits that it would require a marvelous man to sift and analyze them all."° 
 They arise from the limitations of out finite minds."' Here as in the Philebus he 
 bids us disregard them, and proceed on the assumption of ideas to find the one idea 
 
 2.19 Parmen., 134. Sophist, only because pedants were obstructing the way of 
 
 2«0SopA., 241, 245; i'armen., 142 A; Tim., 37 E, 38 A. ^"eic by denying it. Similarly the rpiro! d^Spuirot is dis- 
 
 „., „ ,„, „, ., ^ ... _ tinctly implied in Bepublic, 597 C, and Tim., 31 A, as the 
 
 difficulty of giving a precise moaning to napovata is in 
 
 2« Parmen., 131 A, 132 D. :« 132 A, 132 E. EutKydemus, 301 A, and Pha:<io, 100 D. 
 
 '"Bep., 476 A, avTo ^if iv Uaunv eti-ai, tj) ii rSiv npi^tuf Uh Phileh., 15 DE. In Sophist 2ZX BC, the reference is 
 
 «al <r«.,xir(ui' «oi iAA^Xu^ «oi^a.i.io .... iroXAi^airetrBai ^atrioi-. jg the one and many in things, but the application to the 
 
 Vf. Philch., \:,^; Pfirmen., 144E. Some ignore this pas- communion of ideas immediately follows, 
 sage. Others wantonly emend it, as Badham, who reads o a t> iq^ a n 
 
 i\Xj, iAAiui., and Bywatee, who reads <LAA' iAAcui- (Journal * Parmen., 13o A B. 
 
 of /•*«., Vol. V, p. 122). RiTCiiTE (P(a(o, 96) talios it in a 2" Tim., 52 BC. 31 C; Phileh., 15 D, Ti^ \6yu,v . . . 
 
 Pickwicltian .sense in order to avoid "anticipating t!ie iradoi; iv ijfilv. The Soi>/i/s( does not really contradict Ttm., 
 
 Sojihist." Pfleiderer uses it to prove that the fifth book of .^AB. Absolutely oi- and /iii ov remain a mystery (251 A, 
 
 the Kepu''(/c is later than tlie tenth. Anything rather tlian 251 D, 254 C). The Sophist merely fixes the practically 
 
 admit the obvious fact that Plato always recognized the necessary conventions of logical discourse about them — 
 
 "communion" of ideas, and argued it at length in the Toi-Aoyoi', €>• roit jrap' ifiik Aoyoit, etc., 251A, 251D. 
 
 162
 
 Paul Shorey 37 
 
 and enumerate all its species. ''" The hypothesis must bo judged by its total con- 
 sequences.'" 
 
 The text of the Parmenides does not bear out the assertion that the objections 
 apply to any special form of the theory or can be met by a change of terminology. 
 The suggestion that there may be some classes of concepts to which no idea corre- 
 sponds is repudiated for good Platonic reasons.'^" The interpretation that the ideas 
 ai"e to be henceforth merely concepts is distinctly rejected, was a priori impossible for 
 Plato, and is refuted by the positive affirmation of their objectivity in the Timcens.''^^ 
 Socrates's explanation that the ideas are "TrapaSetyfxaTa, patterns of which phenomena 
 are likenesses, is nothing new. The terminology of pattern, copy, and artist looking 
 off to his model is familiar throughout the " early " dialogues, whether used of the 
 definition or the idea. There is no hint in the corresponding passages of the Philebns 
 that such a variation of terminology could in any way affect the problem. It is not 
 proposed in the Parmenides as a new doctrine, but merely as a different metaphor to 
 evade the difficulty found in the literal interpretation of fieTe'xeiv — it is a mere gloss 
 upon the meaning of tierexeiv. But equally formidable difficulties confront this way 
 of putting it."^" And there is no systematic change of terminology in the "later" 
 dialogues, which, like the earlier, employ in a purely natural and non-technical way the 
 various synonyms and metaphors which Plato used to express the inexpressible."^^ 
 
 The challenge to find the ideas in dialogues "later" than the Parmenides is easily 
 met. Nothing can be more explicit than the Timceus.''^* The alternative is distinctly 
 proposed: are the objects of sense the only realities and is the supposition of ideas 
 mere talk ? ^'^ And it is affirmed that their reality is as certain as the distinction between 
 opinion and science. They are voovfjieva and exist Ka6' avrd.''"^ There is no hint that 
 
 248 135 B C, Phileb.^ 16 D. Cf. Phcsdr.y 270 D, eav 5e irAei'ui lar in the idea. The ojnotuijuaTa are no more separable as 
 
 eI6>7 e\T(\ Tayra apiSfirjaafift'OV<;. Laws, 894 A, eV elSeiri Aa^ecv an intermediate stage than are to. eitriovTa leat i^iovra Tuv 
 
 fifT* api0^tol). hvTijiv a€i ^i^i^^aTa of TiiiKeus, 50 C. In both cases we have 
 
 24'Par)HeJi., 136; Pfta?do, 101 D. ""^y "i" ''lea and the particular and the metaphorical 
 
 550130 D. See Zellee, 700, 701, for lists of ideas. But, ^^P'^^^'o" "^ *eir relation, 
 
 as we have seen, to admit that there is any conceptual "sSee my note in A. J. P., Vol. X, No. 1, p. 66. Zellee, 
 
 unity not referable to an idea is to make the theory a mere Sitziingsber. d. Berl. Akad., 1887, No. 13. 
 
 play of fancy, and deprive it of all psychological and onto- 25(51, 52. 
 
 logical meaning. 255 51 C, to Si Miv ip' !,,■ nM,,. \6yo,. For the impossi- 
 
 251 51 C. Cf. supra, n. 188. bility of taking Aoyoj as " Socratic concept " see my note in 
 
 252The TpiToi ai-Spuiiros is repeated in 132 DE. Other ^. J. P., Vol. X, p. 65. 
 difficulties follow, and the final summing up, 135 A, is 256 Me. Aecher-Hind's attempt {Jour, of Phil., Vol. 
 couched in the most general terminology : cl tialv ovTai ai XXrV, pp. 49 ff. ) to " circumvent " this passage is based on a 
 iSeoi Tu}y ovrtuv ita'i bpulrai Tis outo tc e<to<rToi' c'Sot. There is misinterpretation of 39 E. Since an idea of fire is not men- 
 no suggestion that a new form or terminology makes any tioned in the exhaustive enumeration there given of the 
 difference. The much misunderstood passage, 133 C D, is ideas contained in the supreme idea, an idea of fire he 
 merely a special application of the general difficulty to argues, cannot be meant seriously here. But 39 E does not 
 relative terms. Ideal slavery is related only to ideal speak of the " supreme idea," which is a figment of modern 
 ownership, the slavery in us only to the ownership in us. Platonists. The ^uoi/ is simply the universal of animal or 
 There is no discrimination here of a class of ailri xaO' auri living thing, and as such the paradigm of the world which 
 jIStj. {Cf. A. J. P., Vol. IX. p. 287). Nor are there, us Jowett is a living thing. {Cf. A. J. P., Vol. IX, p. 294.) It includes 
 and Campbell aflirm {Beimblic, Vol. II, p. 313, n. 1) two all subordinate roijrd ^i^a. There is no reason to look for 
 stages (1) 6>*oiiiiiTis and (2) neflefn toO o/ioiui/iiaToi in the other ideas in it. J. Hoeowitz {Da» Platonische vorirbv 
 descent from the ideas to the individuals. ijioiiiniiTii and ^iof mid der Philonische noirMot I'oijTdt, Marburg, 1900) fails 
 liiTexovTci are merely two sides of the same fact— the par- to prove his assertion that the i'oijtoi' ^i^oi' is "die Welt- 
 ticipationsomehow(elT«oirn5iTisovrdTi9eTaO of theparticu- Idee." Mr. Archer-Hind's further arguments merely pre- 
 
 163
 
 38 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 they are mere concepts, or thoughts of God. On the contrary, God uses them as pat- 
 terns, and as elements in the creation of the soul.°" They are characterized in 
 terms applicable only to pure absolute Being, and the familiar terminology is freely 
 employed.^^' Three things, Plato repeats, must have existed from all eternity: the 
 pure Being of the ideas, the generated copies, and space, the medium or receptacle. "'' 
 The attempts of modern scholars to eliminate these elements or identify them with 
 other categories found in other dialogues contradict Plato's explicit statements. We 
 are often told that space is the ddrepov or fir] ov.'''" For this there is not a scintilla 
 of evidence."*' Plato even says of space : ravrov aiirrjv ael irpoa-p-qreov (50 B), and calls 
 it a rpiTov av yevoi; 6v to t)}? ■)(wpa<; aei. The "same" and the " other" appear in a 
 wholly different connection in the creation of the soul, and are obviously the categories 
 of the Sophist attributed to the soul to explain its cognition of sameness and differ- 
 ence."''^ The occurrence of these categories in a dialogue that reaffirms the transcen- 
 dental idea proves that to Plato's mind the two points of view were not incompatible, 
 which, for the rest, is obvious enough from the Phcedrus. We must interpret the 
 Sojjhist, Politicus, and Philebus in the light of this presumption, and treat the termi- 
 nology of the ideas as jirima facie evidence of the doctrine. The Republic (J:"^) 
 " already " states that the transcendental unity of the ideas is somehow compatible 
 with their communion. The Sophist formulates all the concessions which a "working 
 logic " must demand from all philosophies of the absolute, be it absolute relativity, 
 absolute Bemg, or absolute Platonic ideas. Plato minimized the inevitable inconsist- 
 ency, and a sound interpretation will not exaggerate it. A working logic does not 
 emphasize the transcendental character of the idea. But the language of 248 A, 
 247 A B, distiactly implies it.'"^* The statement that BiKuiocrvvT] and <f)p6vT)(Tt<; are engen- 
 dered in the soul (iyyiyverai) obviously does not mean that they are per se concepts 
 of the mind. Nor can we infer that the ideas are mere concepts from passages in 
 
 sent the usual objections of common-sense conceptualism— aiirflTjcris, but koyuriiif ni'i >'d9<j>(52 B). But Plato's terminology 
 
 which are not competent to anyone who himself believes in cannot be used out of its context in this way. The ^i o" 
 
 any metaphysics or attributes metaphysics to Plato. problem belongs to logic. PliGenomena are intermediate be- 
 
 25' 28 A, 29 A, 30 BC, 35 A. Zeller, p. 665, n. 2, adds tween o- and ^i 5.- because they change, and are and are 
 
 Pftcedr., 247, which is irrelevant, and Rep., .596 A ff., where ""*•. 't'" S'""* predicates, not because they are the offspring 
 
 God is the maker of the ideas. Lutoslawski's argument "^ '^eas and matter. In physics Plato was forced, how- 
 
 from .o^cr.c ^.Ti Adyov ^ep.A„rT<i. (27 E, 29 A, pp. 474, 477) in- «™^ reluctantly, to assign a kind of eternity to matter or 
 
 terpreted as " included in thought" is a simple mistransla- ^P^<=«- "^A Bebkei.ev Prmc!>;«, sec. 117: "either that 
 
 real space is God, or that there is something beside God 
 
 „ „ which is eternal, uncreated.") So far is it from being true 
 
 25S52A, 27 D, 28AB, 29 B, 30C. C/. 39 E, o eVr. ; 37 B, r„ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ matter imparts ^^ 5. to ,,/,«.«omc,.a that, on 
 
 ,ara rairi .>"« i"- 48 E, ^apaS.ivMoTo,, to which cor- the Contrary, Plato explicitly says that p/itrnomena. being 
 
 respond 50 C, m'MW«t<., and 52 A, oi^^.vu.ov o^oior ; 31 A, the ^^^^^j i^^ggg^ ^ij^g to essence (owiaO somehow through 
 
 Tp.TO! iv9f,u,iT0f. t^gj^ existence in space. Tim., 52 C. 
 
 ''■' ' 262 37 ABC is plainly a psychological myth or allegory 
 
 260 j;. g., by Ritchie, p. 116. expressing the results of the analysis of the Sophist. Cf- 
 
 201 Zeller, pp. 719 ff., 733, produces none. Aristotle's also TAetriet., 194 B. 
 obscure allusions prove nothing. The identification of the 2e3iii xoyiffMov it ^xxi "pot rir i\nia% oi<riav, tiv atl «aTa 
 
 aiTiipoi' of the Philebus with m>i S" and matter breaks down. ravTa oxraiiTut ix"-" *»" oucr^t ovv aiicaioiruvT)! «ai <J)po- 
 
 There remains the argument that, since in the Pepubitc the ,.,j<r,o,5 .... iror.po;/ 6paT6i'«tti iTriii- (c/. rim.,28B) tli^ai *affi 
 
 ideas arc oi- and phwiwmena are fi<Ta£u — oi'to? and m"! oi-tos, ^^ auToii' ^ iraira oopara. 
 matter must be m"! '•>" apprehended neither by voOt nor 
 
 164
 
 Paul Shorey 39 
 
 which we are required to apprehend them in thought or in the soul.'"* It is often said 
 that souls take the place of ideas in Plato's later period. This is a complete miscon- 
 ception of Plato's thought and stylo. It is quite true that he could not confine the 
 predicates of true or absolute Being to the ideas. God is, of course, true Being, and 
 in religious and metaphysical passages need not always be distinguished from the ideas 
 taken collectively. Both are invisible, eternal, intelligible. In the Timccus space also 
 is reluctantly treated as a kind of eternal being. The Sophist tries to show that 
 "being" is amenable to human logic and cognizable by finite minds. This involves a 
 contradiction for all except consistent relativists who renounce pure Being altogether. 
 This Plato could not do, for, not only in the Parmenides, but in the late TimcBus, he 
 retains absolute Being for metaphysics and religion. In the Sophist he shows that for 
 human logic it is as impracticable as absolute not-Being. To be known and talked 
 about it must come out of its isolation and enter into relations — act and be acted upon. 
 Being is therefore temporarily defined against the extremists of all schools as the 
 power and potentiality^*^ of action or passion, and the contradiction is smoothed over 
 by the equivocal use of "true being" to denote both the metaphysical and the reli- 
 gious noumenon — the ideas and God. True Being as God obviously possesses life, 
 thought, motion, soul, and true Being as the ideas borrows so much life and motion as 
 will explain their intercommunion in finite thought.''' But the definition, its purpose 
 served, is never repeated, and pure transcendental _being reappears in the Timceits. 
 That the ideas still take precedence of souls appears distinctly from Polif., 309 C, 
 where it is said that fixed opinions in souls are a divine thing in a daemonic thing. 
 The same follows from the creation of the soul in the Timcpiis, and the hierarchy of 
 elements in the good (Phileb., 6G) where pure ideas precede wO?. '" Politicus, 269 D, pre- 
 sumably implies the ideas;'"" 285 E ff. unmistakably alSrms them. What other possible 
 interpretation can be put upon the statement oVt tok /xev rwv ovtmv paBioi-; KaTUfiadelv 
 ala-O-qrai Ttvei 6ix.oi6Tr)T€<; irecfyvKaaiv? These ovra are plainly ideas of material things, 
 of which material things are likenesses. But to. TLiutaTara (justice, good, etc., Phcedr., 
 
 ■iii* Sophist, 250 B, rpiTor opa Ti irapi raira to ov iv Tj) ifivxn i" iam of Parmenides (or his followers at Megara or in 
 
 Ti«ei5. Cf. 243 C, ovx ^TTOr icari to iv ra-iirov toOto Tripos elA.]- the school — ouSei- yip TaiiTf) Sia^epei) as well as the irdi-TO pel 
 
 ^oTd iv Tji i//uxn. Cf. ofioXoywai-a . . . . iv ij) iii^(T(pa •pvxji, of Heraclitus for which he felt less sympathy. Cf. Them- 
 
 rAecefe*., 155 A, from which LuTOSLAWSKi, p. 383, infers that (e(., 180, 181, 183 E, 181 A. 
 
 the ideas are subjective notions ! 267 See Zellee, pp. 689, 690, who seems to deny the con- 
 
 265 247 E, Si/raiiis probably includes both. tradiction altogether, and pp. 696-8, where he argues that 
 „. . , , , i m J I. the Sophist is early because life and causality are never 
 
 266 The entire passage betrays embarrassment. To adapt attributed to the ideas, and do not belong to them 
 "Being" to the necessities of logic Plato is obliged to .^ ^i^^^Hg., representation. Space fails to enumerate all 
 deny of it (248 DE) what in r»«., 38 A B, his feelings require ^^^^^^^^.^^^^^^ fitter difference from Apelt's subtle 
 him to affirm He treats vv^-a-^Sa. as a .a,Tx«. which ^^ ^^^ ^ (BeUrage). He points out that the 
 Zeller (p. 6d2), as a true Aristotelian, thinks a verbal fal- ^^g^j^j^^ ^j 5^ j^ ^-^^^^^^ ^^j^iy ^g^inst the materialists, 
 lacy. In the crucial passage, 249 A, he uses a.To (^,6. ir,v ^^^ ^^^^^ attention to l<r«„ ei, i).rT.po. frepo. a.*a«c,. He is 
 avTb) which draws our attention away from the ideas. .^ ^^ ^^^^ pj^^^,^ ^.^^^,^ changed, and in mini- 
 And having attributed soul and mind to it, he merely ^ ^^^ significance of the apparent attribution of life 
 infers that, since these involve K.vr,<r.,, kc.w« must be in- ^^ ^^^ .^^^^ ^^^ j^^ ^^^^ ^^_^^ ^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^pU^i^ ^^^^^ 
 eluded among o.Ta (which CampbeU, art (oc, regards as a ^^^^ ^^ .^ .^ ^^^^^ dialogues and for this purpose presses 
 formal faUacy). Plainly, whatever implications we force ^^^^^.-^^^ r»n.,52B. 
 
 upon Plato's words, his purpose here is not to attribute ' 
 
 soul to the ideas, but to remove from the path of logic the 268 li, .ari laiTi «al iirauTius .'x"''. etc- 
 
 165
 
 40 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 250 B, ocra dWa rifiia i/ri/^^aZ?), have no copies in the world of sense, and must be appre- 
 hended by reason. This is precisely the doctrine of Plicednis, 250 BCD and 263 A B, 
 and ouo^ht to end controversy.""' We have already seen that the Pltilebiis bids us 
 assume ideas and disregard the difficulties of the Parmenides.™ There is no hint 
 that they are only concepts."" We may assume, then, that the language of 58 A, 59 C, 
 and 61 E implies the ideas. "'" 
 
 III. PSYCHOLOGY 
 
 Supposed variations in Plato's psychology have been used to determine the evolu- 
 tion of his thought and the relative dates of the dialogues. The chief topics are: 
 (1) the immortality of the soul; (2) the unity of the soul, or its subdivision into 
 faculties; (3) the general argument that the psychology of the "later" dialogues is 
 richer and more precise than that of the earlier. 
 
 1. The immortality of the individual soul is for Plato a pious hope,"' and an ethical 
 postulate,"'* rather than a demonstrable certainty."" He essays various demonstrations, 
 but nearly always in connection with a myth, and of all the proofs attemj^ted but one is 
 repeated. In the Apology Socrates, addressing his judges, affects to leave the question 
 open.^"* But we cannot infer from this that the Apology antedates Plato's belief in 
 immortality. For, to say nothing of Pythagorean sources of inspiration, he had pre- 
 sumably read Pindar's second Olympian with approval; and Socrates's language in 
 Criio, 54 B, is precisely in the tone of the Gorgias and the Phcedo^'''' The 3Ieno™ 
 assumes the immortality and the prior existence of the soul to account for a priori 
 knowledge. The Phcedo presents a complicated proof or series of proofs. The Symjw- 
 siiim seems to recognize only the subjective immortality of fame, and the racial immor- 
 tality of offspring."' The "early" Phcedrus and the late Laws alone agree in a proof 
 based on the conception of the soul as the self-moving."'*" It is easy to foresee the 
 hypotheses which an ingenious philology will construct from these facts. Krohn, Pflei- 
 derer, and Kohde gravely argue that Book I of the Rep>ublic must be very early because 
 the aged Cephalus neglects the opportunity to supplement his citation from Pindar with 
 a scientific proof of immortality. Horn tells us that the Phcedrus represents the first 
 
 269Forai-oM'"I<"5 in the Pod (iciisc/. m/ra, p. 44. Phocilo, 115 DE; and with the idea, 959 B, that the only 
 
 2") See A. J. P., Vol. IX, p. 279. Po^9«ia at the bar of Hades is a just life in this world, <•/. 
 
 211 LnTOSLAWSHj, p. 467, mistranslates, or, if he prefers, Oorg., 522 C D, 526 E ; Crito, 54 B. 
 
 misinterprets, 15 D: "the nature of thought requires the 275 p/tcerfo, 85 C, to /iei' o-aifies eiSei-ac iv riZ vvv ^iut rj aSvva- 
 
 union of notions into higher units, and this constitutes an row thai ij jroYx»^«'">'' ". Cf. 107 A B; Tim,, 12 D; Meno, 
 
 eternal necessity of the human mind." C/. supra, p. 36. 86AB; PAcccir., 265 C. 
 
 272tt)»' yap wept to hv *coi To ofTuj? «ai TO Kara rainov a€i 276 40 C. C/. also Pftccdo. 91 B. 
 
 ''!*"f°! •.• ■; /-■«("? °M'"«"''"'"'"V^"-y":--"P'^"",''"« 277Cro«2/J«s, 403 DE, implies the doctrine of PhtBdo, 
 
 67,68. 
 
 Ta auTa waauTws ajuttToTaTa e'xoi-Ta. — rj ic iiri Ta ^^Tt ytyvo^Leva 
 
 unre anoXAvtiifa, Kara Tai-Ta 5e Kai utravTo}^ ovja oei. Cf, 62 A, 
 
 • ■ 278 M C* 
 
 aVTri<; Trep'i SiKatoaof tj? o ti iffTi. 66 \, Trt^ ai&i-ov .... (^nifftf. °^ ^• 
 
 For the ideas iu relation to the method «ot' eiSij riiivnv, 279 207 D, 208 B. Too much is made of this, for the same 
 
 and a fuller discussion of the ii^t ov fallacy, see infra, inferouce could bo drawn from Lous, 721 and 773 B. The 
 
 Part II. popular belief in Hades is implied, 192 E, and there is even 
 
 273 PhcBdo, 114 D, xp'l '■« ToiouTa liffirep ('iro'Sfii' iovToJ. a hint, 212 A, that the philosopher may be immortal: tlircp 
 
 ■inRep.. 608 C II.: Laws, 881 A, 967 DE, 959 A B; with to, aAA^ ii'Spoi.ru,^ iSawy «ai «e...o,. 
 
 TOf 6« ofra rinujv inatrroi' ovTw? addyarov [ftrai] ^v\rip, cf. 2H0 priced).,, 245 C : Lo«JS, 894, 895. 
 
 166
 
 Paul Shokey 41 
 
 youthful enthusiastic apprehension of immortality, the Symposium expresses the mood 
 of sober manhood content with this life, while in the Fhcedo old age. waiting for death, 
 craves a real immortality. According to Thompson, the Meno reserves the proof of 
 what it merely asserts; the FhcBdrus outlines a general proof, the Republic later 
 attempts another; the Symposium, dissatisfied with all so far achieved, ignores the sub- 
 ject; and finally the problem is taken up seriously in the Pluvdo. Zeller, on the other 
 hand, while holding that all the proofs are substantially identical, thinks, as we have 
 seen, that the Republic refers to the Phcedo, and is also later than the PhcBdrus. But 
 to Lutoslawski it is evident that the proof given in the Pluedrus and repeated in the 
 Laivs is the latest. And he also can discern that the Symposium, in the first flush of 
 idealism, could dispense with the personal immortality of the Gorgias, but that later, 
 when the theory of ideas had grown familiar, Plato undertook in the Phcedo to affiliate 
 upon it the old doctrine of immortality. 
 
 Hardly more profitable than these arbitrary speculations is the analysis of the 
 separate arguments. Broadly speaking, Zeller is right in saying that they all amount 
 to this, that it is the nature or essence of the soul to live. But this general truth 
 becomes a fallacy when employed to identify absolutely the distinct arguments of the 
 Phcedo, the Republic, and the Phcedrus. The gist of the argument in the tenth book 
 of the Republic is a fallacy employed also in the first book (353 D E), the equivocal 
 use of the apen^ or specific excellence of the soul in relation to its epyov, its function 
 and essence. In both cases the epyov is defined in terms of mere life-vitality, while 
 the aperi] is referred to the moral life. But in so far as the epyov or essence of the 
 soul is mere life, its aperrj is intensity and persistency of life — not justice.^" Simi- 
 larly the Phcedrus and Lnws, identifying life with self-movement, prove the eternity 
 of the principle of motion, and assume it to include moral and intellectual qualities.''*^ 
 But there is a certain pedantry in thus scrutinizing these arguments. Plato's belief 
 in immortality was a conviction of the psychological and moral impossibility of sheer 
 materialism,''^ and a broad faith in the unseen, the spiritual, the ideal. The logical 
 obstacles to a positive demonstration of personal immortality were as obvious to him 
 as they are to his critics. If we must analyze the arguments of the Phcedo, rhe 
 analysis of Bonitz is, on the whole, the most plausible."'* They prove, at the most, 
 
 ^'^i Cf. the equivocal use of apfiovia in Phcedo, 93,94, to objections by establishing the inherent immortality of the 
 
 denote the composition of physical elements that, on the soul as a form that always involves the idea of life. I may 
 
 hypothesis under examination, is life, and the harmony of add that the fallacy in this ingenious argument may be 
 
 spiritual qualities that is virtue. analyzed in various ways. In 103 B it is said that avrh to 
 
 282 Laws 896 C D iyat'Ttoy, as distinguished from to €xoiTa Ta evavria could 
 
 never admit its opposite. A.(ito to eyafTcof is then sub- 
 
 283 Laws, 891 C, .ivJu^.iit. yip i> Aeya)^ TaOra irOp «al u5«,p divided into Tb iv ii^ly and Ti) tV T,5 4,v,rii. This seems to 
 Mi Yl" «<«' «pa .rpiT« ;iY"''«»"-">"'»''™'' e^ai. Cf. Pluleh., yield throe things : the ideapersc, the idea in the particular, 
 30A: Thea:tet., 155 E, 184 D; Sophist, 246A; Tim., 51 C, and the particular as affected by the idea. (C/.SM;)ro, n. 252.) 
 i raira, irrep ««l fiUwo^^v .... ^ova .VtI To.aiin,^ i^o^Ta g^t jj^g^g ^^^ fg^Hy ^^^y^ j^^ things: the idea, and the 
 aAijSEiaf. particular affected by the " presence '* of or " participa- 
 
 284 1, e., the argument €« tCiv ei^avTimv ra ^vavrCa, 70 E ff., tion " in the idea. How the idea can be at once in itself 
 
 proves merely that the state of the soul after death is the and in the particular may be, as wo have seen, a mystery, 
 
 same as that before birth. The argument from avdfxvfjtm. But it does not justify the duplication of the idea, which is 
 
 73 3., supplements this by the proof that before birth the a device employed here only, and presumably with full 
 
 soul possessed intelligence. The final argument meets all consciousness, for the purpose of the argument. For by its 
 
 167
 
 42 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 the immortality of soul, not of the individual. This Plato presumably knew, but 
 we cannot expect him to say so by the death-bed of Socrates or in the ethical myths, 
 which obviously assume individual immortality."*^ But neither this unavoidable funda- 
 mental ambiguity nor the fanciful variations of the eschatological myths convict Plato 
 of serious inconsistency, or supply any evidence for the dating of the dialogues. 
 
 2. In the Republic Plato bases the definitions of the virtues and the three classes 
 of the population on a tripartite division of the soul, which he warns us is not demon- 
 strated absolutely, but sufficiently for the purpose in hand.^*° A poetical passage of 
 the tenth book hints that in its true nature the soul is one and simple, but that we 
 cannot perceive this so long as, like the sea-god Glaucus, it is disguised by the accre- 
 tions of its earthly life.^" The tripartite division is embodied in the myth of the 
 Phcedrus, which, if we pedantically press the poetical imagery,"*** implies the pre- 
 existence even of the appetites.^*' In the Timcetis the immortal soul is created by the 
 Demiurgus, the mortal, which falls into two parts, spirit and appetite, by his minis- 
 ters."'" Here the tripartite division is subordinated to a bipartite, as Aristotle would 
 have it."''' But we are explicitly warned that the revelation of a god would be required 
 to affirm the absolute scientific truth of this division, and to distinguish precisely the 
 mortal from the immortal part.""" In the Laws the question whether the Bv/io^ is an 
 afPection or a distinct part of the soul is left open."''^ As Aristotle says, it makes no 
 difference for ethical and political theory.'"'* The Phcvdo, attempting to prove immor- 
 tality, naturally dwells rather upon the unity of the soul, as does the tenth book of the 
 Republic. But it distinguishes, quite in the manner of the Republic, the three types 
 of character, the (f>i.\6ao(f)0'; or ^i\ofia0r]<;, the (jyiXap^o's or (piXoTifio';, and the (fjiKocro)- 
 fiaroi or ^tXo;^/3r;/iaTo?.-* Plicedo, 79 B C E, does not affirm that the soul is absolutely 
 simple and uncompounded, but that the body is more akin to the composite, and the 
 soul to the simple and unchanging. The contradictions found by Krohn and Pfleiderer 
 in the psychology of the Republic, or between the Republic and Ph(vdo, on this point, 
 are sufficiently explained by Hirmer."'" From all this it appears (1) that Plato 
 affirmed nothing dogmatically with regard to the ultimate psychological problem. 
 (2) That his primary classification was the distinction between the pure reason and the 
 lower faculties subordinate to reason and dependent on the body. (3) That for ethical 
 and political theory he found most helpful the tripartite classification — reason, spirit, 
 
 aid the life in the individual is posited as an intermediate Flat. Forsck., p. .33, says that Rep., X, must be later than 
 
 entity between life per se and the living individual, and Phcpdrus, for in the PhoeUriis immortality belongs to all 
 
 pronounced immortal because, like life per se, it will not three parts of the soul I 
 
 admit its opposite. Another way of putting it is to say that, 29»34BC 69C1I. 
 
 in 106 E ff., ieii-aToi' is equivocally used for (1) that which _„, „j, ,,.,.„„ . ... ■ - » . ,, 
 
 does not admit death (while life is preseut), (2) that which »• - 11.. 
 
 does not admit death at all. °^°'' '^°''" 
 
 «5Gor£,., r,24ff.; Re;)., 614 ff. C/. Laws, 904BC; Tin,.. ''"''"^- <^f- P'^'^dr.,2l6A. 
 
 U D, i/ivxM i<rapi9noi/t T0I5 ocrTpon, etc. ^'^SBSB, tireVi iriSot <;t< ti (itpot iiy o 9u/io5. 
 
 28C435CDfT. 287 6nC-6I2A. 288 246 A IT. ^'^^ Eth. Nic. , 1,13,10, oitSiv &iaii»ipei npo^ to napov. 
 
 289 Natorp, Hermes, Vol. XXXV, p. 4,30, objects that the '''"' ^ C, 82 C. 
 
 souls of the gods are tripartite and that the horses, though 2"^ " Eiitstehung und Konipcisition dcT Plat. Politeia," 
 
 in the procession, do not see the ideasi ScaEHIHL, Neue JahrhiUher fur Phil., Suppl., N. F,.,Vol. XXllI, pp. 612, 643. 
 
 168
 
 Paul Shobey 43 
 
 appetite — which he also embodied in the myths of the Phcedrus and the Timceus. 
 (4) That, while this classification may be profitably compared with the modern intelli- 
 gence, feeling, will, it is beside the mark to criticise it as if it were meant to be 
 psychologically exact and exhaustive."' We cannot establish any fixed relation 
 between the tripartite soul and tlic; hierarchy of the cognitive faculties — wO? (w'»;o-(?, 
 eKicnrjixrf), Sidvoia, So^a, TTt'cTTt?, eiicaala, etc."'''" Plato sometimes treats the inerrant 
 reason as a distinct part of the soul from the fallible faculties of sense and opinion."' 
 He sometimes associates sense-perception with sensuous appetite in common antithesis 
 to the reason.'™ But he also, when it suits his purpose, virtually identifies (true) 
 opinion with reason, in opposition to the impulses of instinct and appetite.'"' The 
 dv/j.d';, though associated with opinion,"" cannot be assigned with it to a distinct part 
 of the soul.™ Nor can it be identified with the "feeling" of the modern psychologist. 
 The will as a faculty distinct from the impulses of appetite and the judgments of the 
 reason has no place in Plato's system. (5) That we cannot fix the time at which the 
 notion of the tripartite soul first occurred to Plato, nor may we use apparent variations 
 in the mythological dress of the doctrine in order to date the Plicedo and Phcedrus 
 relatively to each other or to the Bejntblic. 
 
 3. The chief changes alleged in Plato's "later" psychology are: (o) the abandon- 
 ment of avdij,vr)(7i<;; (b) a different conception of the relation of mind and body, more 
 particularly as concerns the nature and seat of pleasure and pain; (c) a fuller and 
 more precise terminology of the cognitive faculties and the degrees of knowledge. 
 This later psychology must be sought chiefly in the Philehus. It is not enough to 
 point out that the Philcbus is especially rich in psychological detail. The subject 
 called for it, and we cannot expect all the dialogues to be equally full in every topic. 
 What is required is contradictions of earlier dialogues, or new thoughts not hinted at 
 in them. And these are not to be found. 
 
 a) The explanation of the ordinary psychological meaning of avdfjivr]at.<; in Philehus, 
 34 B, no more proves the abandonment of the peculiar Platonic doctrine than does the 
 occurrence of the word in that sense in the Itepublic, 604 D. The PJtcedo itself treats 
 the avdfivrjcn<; of the ideas as a special case of recollection and association of ideas gen- 
 erally, and employs the consecrated phrase tovto 8' eaTiv avd/ivriai'; of an example that 
 fits the definition of the Philebus.^* Plainly all recollection of the ideas is avdixvqai<i, 
 but all avdfivr]ai<; need not be recollection of the ideas. Moreover, as the word occurs 
 without the doctrine in the Philehus, so we find the doctrine without the word in the 
 Politicus. As the point has been overlooked, it is worth while to dwell upon it. Every 
 
 29' See JowETT, Vol. I, p. 410 ; Zellee, p. 846 ; LuTOS- 30i Phileb., 60 D ; Phaedr., 237 D ; infra, p. 48, n. 357. 
 
 LAWSKI, p. -78. 302 This is probably the meaning of aATjfltrijs 56^ijj eratpo?, 
 
 298 The imagery and terminology of Bep., .511 D, 534 A, Phmdr., 253 D, despite the antithesis i^diovtim iralpot. 
 
 belong to the literary machinery of the Republic, and are aATjtfii'Tj is used of 56fa = opinion in TheoEtet., 187 C; Phileb,, 
 
 not to be pressed. 37 B. 
 
 299Bfp., 478 AB, 602E-603A, TO napi ri inerpa dpa Jojiiov 303 In T/ni., 37 B C, 86f ac and iri<TTets belong to the circle 
 
 T^S *J/vxrfs r<Z Kara rd /xcrpa OVK av elri TaitTov, of the darepov in the immortal SOUl. 
 
 300 Phado, 65, 66. 3"i 73 D. 
 
 169
 
 44 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 man, we are told, knows all things as in a dream, though he fails of waking knowl- 
 edge.'"' This at once recalls the iJ.fiJ.a6r)Kvia<; t"/? ilfv;^'}? airavra of the locus classiciis 
 on ava./j,v7]cn<;, Meno, 81 D. In the Mcno, too, it is said that this knowledge is at first 
 dreamlike, but is converted by the elenchus into true science.^ The Politicus goes on 
 to show, by the use of Plato's favorite illustration of letters or "elements,"™ how it is 
 that, despite this antecedent knowledge, we go astray, and how in the study of complex 
 and difEcult things the right iise of example and comparison will enable us to recognize 
 the identity of the same form or idea everywhere, so that we shall have a waking and 
 not a dreamlike knowledge/™ Children, knowing their letters in some sort, distinguish 
 them rightly in easy combinations, biit blunder in long hard syllables, until by compari- 
 son with the easy they learn to recognize the same letter everywhere. So our soul, 
 similarly affected by nature toward the elements of all things (the ideas), sometimes and 
 in some things is settled and fixed by truth concerning each one, but at other times and 
 in other things is driven to and fro among them all, and of some it somehow forms 
 right opinions among the combinations, but fails to apprehend these same things when 
 transferred to the long and difficult syllables of facts. Not only the general drift, but 
 the language and imagery of this passage must be understood of the recollections of 
 the ideas. The phrase ravTov tovto r)fxS)v ?; yjrvxv 'f'vaei irepl to. rcav Trdvrcov aToi^ela 
 TreTTovdvla does not refer mainly or solely to our liability to error, as might be sup- 
 posed from Campbell's "is naturally liable to the same infirmity," or from Jowett's 
 "has the same uncertainty." It refers to the whole preceding comparison of which the 
 starting-point is that the soul knows all things in a sense, even as the children know 
 all their letters imperfectly. That this is the meaning of <f)vcrei .... tre-KovOvla appears 
 further by comparison with Pliwdrns, 249 E, Tracra fiev avOpcoirov •</ri'%»; <j>vcra redearai 
 ra ovTa. The doctrine of avdfivrjcn';, then, repeated in the Politicus, is not abandoned 
 in the Philebtis. This conclusion might have been affirmed a priori. For " recollec- 
 tion," once indissolubly associated with the ideas and the pre-existence of the soul, 
 would not be given up while they were retained. But pre-existence is assumed in the 
 Laws,'^' and the ideas, as we have seen, occur in the Politicus^" and are reaffirmed in 
 the Timmus, which also implies the soul's prior knowledge of all things, in language 
 recalling the Phcedrus and Politicus.^" 
 
 b) The general problem of the relation of mind and body is involved in that of 
 immortality and the parts of the soul. As we have seen, the Timceus, though it assigns 
 separate seats to the mortal and immortal soul, declines to dogmatize without the assur- 
 
 305 277 D, Ktv6vvfv(l yap riniov €ica(TTO? olov ovap eiSw? aTra^Ta 306 MenOy 85 C, itttrntp oi'ap aprt KtKlvtjVTal al idfai auTat, 
 
 a! TtiK^v uawep iinap iy'-o"''- RiTCHiE, p. 143, misapprehends 30? Repuh., 402 A B ; cf Soph., 253 A ; Phileb., 18 C ; Thccc- 
 
 this passage when he associates it with the "lie of approxi- (g(_ 201 E- Tim. 48 B, etc. 
 
 mation." We rrmst use examples, not because in difEcult .,n., 0-0 t, ..... .... 
 
 matters it is permissible to fall back upon picture- 
 thinking and symbolism," but because only by beKinninB 
 with easy examples can we learn how to convert our dream- ^^^ *^^* 
 
 like knowledge into real kn()wletigo. The ydp introduces '-^^^^Supra, p. 39. 
 
 the whole parallel, of which the dreamlike knowledge of 31141E, t>)^ toO iroirb! ^liffii- t'StiJe. 
 all things is only the first point. 
 
 i;o
 
 Paul Shorey 45 
 
 ance of a god, and the Laws leaves it an open question whether the parts of the soul 
 are real parts or functions.''" Of the dependence of our cognitive faculties on bodily 
 organs Plato knew as much or as little as we know."'' In the images of the wax tablet 
 and aviary he anticipates all psychologies that explain memory, association, and recol- 
 lection, and the distinction between latent and actual knowledge, by material analogies.'"* 
 But sheer materialism and sensationalism he rejects, for many other reasons"* and 
 because it fails to account for the synthetic unity of thought.""" The senses are the organs 
 through which, not the faculties by which, we know.'" Sometimes and for some purposes 
 he exalts pure thought freed from all contaminations of sense."' In other moods, he 
 recognizes that human thought takes its start from a'i!crdr]ai<; or immediate perception."" 
 He points out that the contradictions of sense give the first awakening stimulus to the 
 generalizing activities of mind."'^" He admits that our minds are too weak to attain to 
 knowledge without experience,'"' and require the aid of concrete examples in order to 
 apprehend difficult abstractions.'"" We can recover the prenatal vision of the ideas only 
 by association with their sensuous "copies," or by strenuous logical discipline.'"' And, 
 though knowledge is not sense-perception, sense-perception is the best evidence that 
 we have of some things.'"' Only a very literal-minded criticism will treat these con- 
 cessions as a contradiction of the apotheosis of pure thought in the Phcedo. 
 
 Slightly more plausible is the claim that Plato contradicts himself in regard to the 
 nature and seat of desire, pleasure, and pain.'"'* The "early" Gorgias and the "late" 
 Philehus explicitly affirm that the soul, not the body, is the seat of desire.'"" The Philebtis 
 adds the psychological reason that desire is dependent on memory.'" The Philebus 
 further explains pleasure and pain as mental states arising from changes in the body 
 sudden enough or violent enough to affect the mind and pass the threshold of con- 
 sciousness, in modern phrase.'"' Pain results from movements unfavorable to the 
 "natural" condition of the body, pleasure from those that preserve or restore the natural 
 
 312 Sapra, n. 293 ; cf. also Rep., 612A, elTe iroAvciS^t tire 322poii<., 277 D. Cf. Phcedr., 262 C, iJ/iAi? iruis Aeyofitv 
 
 fiovottSri'; , Phcedr., 271 A. ouk i\0VT€i i«acd TrapaScty/ittTa. 
 
 SlSPAfydo, 96BC, irorepoi/ To aliii ianv <u ijipovoiixev, r) o 3^3 PhcedO, 75A; PoiiJ.,286A; Rep., 533 A, Kal OTl i) ToO 
 
 arip rj to nitp, etc. Note the irony of the whole passage. StaKiyeffdaL Sucajui? ixovr] av ttnivttev ip-neiput oi'Tt Stv vvv 5Ji 
 
 niThea-tet., 191 D S. (cf. Pha-dr., 275A, tv^t...), 197D, *'.f «">"."■• Tim.. V! A, ri.yi. Uy..y ..pi toO .a.rh, ^.yo>,.y^. 
 
 1Q7 R-gnn R ouoei5 ai' nore epprjdr} /ji>jt€ ampa fiijT€ TjAtof p-rfTe ovpav'ov io6»'Tcur. 
 
 3l5p;icedo, SOB, 96; Phileb.,^; Tim., 51 C; Latvs, 
 
 ^^^Thecetet., 201 B, wf Uovtl fj.6vov Imtv <t5cVai aAAtu? it 
 
 P-'f)i Sophist, 234 X), «ai Sia TraOijjLioTCJC a.vayKa^Ofi.evov^ evapyii^ 
 
 316 Thecetet.y 184 D. effxin-Tecr^at riof ovtiov. The whole passage is in seeming' con- 
 
 3" Thecetet., 18i C ; Phcedo, 65 D, 79 C ; Tim., 67 B. tradiction with the thought of Phcdo 100 A and Rep 473 A. 
 
 that words (thought) come nearer to truth than deeds, bee 
 
 318 Phcedo, 65 C (cf. Theaetet., 187 A), 66 A, ti.Ki.Kpi.vtl rfi also Jlfeiio, 97 B. 
 
 «m.o^«; 67 C, TO x^pcV"" o Tc p.i\.aTa inb toC „^^aro, t,. 325Grote, Jowett, Mr. Henry Jackson, and others. 
 
 "'"'*'''''■ Horn, who rejects the Philehv.s, says (p. 380) that it assigns 
 
 319 Thecetet., 179 C, to napby (KaaTia Traces ef u>f at ai(r07jo-cis desire to the soul, but pain and pleasure to the body. 
 
 «ai ai «aTi TaiiTat 6d|ac. C%aim., 159 A, a:(T9l<7.V Ti,.a naptxtiy. 326 Qorg., 493 A, TJjj Si vfvxis toOto ip (J i:T,evp.iai. citr.'. So 
 
 ff i}s 66^a av Tts troi jrepi ai'T^« ciij. Phileb., 249 B, fK woKKutv Tim. 69C. 
 tot' attrdritretof ei? tv Aoyitrfitp ^vyatpovp^tvov. 
 
 320 Rep., 524 B C ; Theatet., 186 A B. 
 
 321 35. 
 
 328 33, 34, 43 B C. C/. Rep., 462 C, 584 C, a! ye Sii toO <rti(xa- 
 
 321 Tfteceief., 149 C, oti ij avOpiairivi] ^uvts itr^evtarepa j) ''o« tjrt TTjc \ljv\riv Ttivovtrai Kal \ey6ptvaL i76ofat. Cf, Law8, 
 
 Ka^tlv Tixvj]v tliv ay jj aTretpo?. 673 A, M«XP* '^^ ^vxri^ ; Tim., 45 D (of sensations). 
 
 171
 
 46 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 state. '^' This is also the doctrine of the Timceus, and it is not contradicted anywhere. 
 In ethical and religious discussion, however, it is natural to identify the "soul" with the 
 higher intelligence, vov^; or immortal soul, and to speak of the pleasures of the mortal 
 soul which come through the body and are necessitated by the body as pleasures of 
 the body. And Plato, though usually scrupulously precise,^™ occasionally permits 
 himself this inexact way of speaking. The Fhilcbus enumerates three kinds of mixed 
 pleasures and pains: (1) merely mental, as in the pleasurable-painful emotions; (2) 
 merely bodily ; (3) those that arise when pleasure of mind accompanies pain of body, 
 or the reverse. ^^' In a few cases the "bodily" pleasiires are spoken of as if they were 
 literally in or of the body.^" But Plato was justified in assuming that only a careless 
 or captious reader would misunderstand him. For hardly three pages back he had 
 explained that bodily states produce pleasure and pain only when they cross the 
 threshold of consciousness. ^^^ There are also two or three cases in the Fhcedo. In 
 the first the phrase "appetites of the body" is used in a highly wrought, ethical pas- 
 sage precisely as it might be employed by a modern preacher, with no implication of 
 psychological doctrine.^^* The second occurs in the refutation of the hypothesis that 
 the soul may be a "harmony" of material states or elements. To refute this objection 
 Socrates employs the very argiiment used in the Republic to distinguish vovs from 
 eTnOvfjLia and Ovfw'i.^^'- The soul cannot be identical with that which it rebukes and 
 controls as a superior. The soul, instead of being controlled, vtto rSiv tov awfi.aTO'; 
 iraOwv, is master of them. Therefore it cannot be a "harmony" composed of them. 
 The appetites are treated as material Trad^/iara in order to refute, in its own termi- 
 nology, the hypothesis that the soiil is a composition of material TradijfJ.aTa. The 
 argument would lose its force if stated in the terminology of the Republic. If the 
 tripartite soul were explicitly recognized, it would be necessary, first, to decide which 
 parts are to be immortal ; secondly, to prove directly, and not by the equivocal substi- 
 tution of " bodily " appetites for states of matter, that the vow or soul cannot be a 
 harmony of material elements. For these reasons, in the Plicedo, soul, tacitly identified 
 with vow, is opposed to body as a whole, including the appetites. But the literary 
 and pesthetic necessity of this way of speaking having once been perceived, we cannot 
 treat it as a contradiction of the psychological truth clearly stated in the "earlier" 
 
 ^^Phileb., 31 D ff., 42 D; Tim., 64 C D, 66 C, 68 A. Im- eV tJ; «oi.ip .... yei-ei is merely preparatory to tho explana- 
 plied perhaps "already " in Cratyl., 419 C, t tc Auittj anb rij? tion that they are the psychic correlates of beneficial or 
 StoAvcrews toD (Tw^caTos. Aristotle, Eth, Nic, 10, .3, 6, contro- harmful changes in the body. It is obviously no contra- 
 verting tlie doctrine that pleasure is a -yeVeai?, says: «t diction of the reference of iiSorOo the aTretpoi- in 31 B. Cf. 
 
 Sij e(7Tt Toy Kara tfniaLV ai'airA>ipuj<7if rjfiocr), iv iL if dfairAtjputric, A. J P., Vol. IX, No. 3, p. 284. 
 
 toOt' i^ «al ^So.TO- TO ^i>tia ipa- ov SoKel Si, where oil ioKcl 333 43BC. C/. 33 D, 9« rii/ jrtpi rb (Ti,<a . . . . iraSwiTui' 
 
 expresses as often Plato's opinion. ^^ ^j^ ;^ ^^ auMan .arair^ei-i'iine^tt rrplr .Vi ri,.. ^v^w S..|eA8tri.. 
 
 330 Philch., 39 D, idri' iii ToO aJi/j-aTot ^Jo^ik. So 4") B, This is the doctrine of Tim., 64 A B C, and it is " already " 
 
 Phccdo, 65 A; Tim., 61 A; Rep., 584 C, 485 B; Phileb., 45 A, implied in 3'/lea■(e^, 186C, btra 5ia tou auiftaro^ nadtjtiaTa ini 
 
 aX -ntpnb aCiiia. So i^/rcedr., 258 E. Cf., Cratyl., iQiJ^; Rep., ttji- >//u;^»jf TetVei. /'/k/c?*., 55 B, explicitly aflirnis that pleas- 
 
 442 A; Tim., 64 A; Phileb., 41 C, to tri^fj-a ^c to Trapi\6y.evov; ure is in the soul only : ttwc oiiK aAoyot' sVti ^ijStf a-^aObv tlfat 
 
 Rep., 584 A, T«i Y« ^5u ec i/'l'Xp yiyvbtLivov; 442 A. .... ffAijif €C i/'i'XiJ '^"^ ivraida ritovt)V /iOfov. 
 
 33147E~50D, 46 C, 47 (.' D. 334 66 C, «al ya.p TroAeVovs KoX <7To(T«is KoX ^axaf oiiSkv aK\o 
 
 332 48 BC, SOD. .So rn.dicus in iVo(ao., 3.37 r. The "ap.X" i t6 ai^o «a; ai toutou iiriOuMm.. 
 
 statement, Phileb., 31 iJ, tliiit pleasure and pain originate ™' Phoetlo, 94 B ff. ; Rep., 411 B, 390 D. 
 
 172
 
 Paul Shore y 47 
 
 Gorgias and "later" Philebus. One might as well argue that the tenth book of the 
 Hcpitbh'c antedates or abandons the tripartite soul because the doctrine is ignored in 
 the proof of immortality attempted there. 
 
 c) Lastly it is sometimes affirmed that the later dialogues show an increased preci- 
 sion in the use of psych(jlogical terminology. In fact, however, Plato's psychological 
 vocabulary is nowhere technical. He is content to make his meaning plain by the 
 context. Nor can we find in Spinoza or Kant or in any modern text-book the consist- 
 ent precision that is sometimes demanded of Plato. There is no modern terminology 
 which sharply discriminates mental states that are or are not supposed to involve the 
 element of judgment and belief. There is none that shows independently of the 
 context the precise line intended to be drawn between sensation and perception, 
 or distinguishes revived and compounded "images" from "images" regarded as 
 immediate impressions. We cannot, then, expect Plato to emphasize distinctions not 
 needed for his immediate purpose, but if we bear this in mind, we shall find no serious 
 inconsistencies or significant variations in his use of such terms as al'o-^/jcrt? Bo^a and 
 
 Aiadrja-i'; is any immediate sensation or perception or consciousness including 
 pleasure and pain and Locke's inner sense.'"' As sense-perception it is rightly said to 
 involve judgment,'" and so issues in 86^a, opinion or belief.'" The word Bo^a may 
 be used in this neutral, psychological sense; it may be taken unfavorably to denote 
 mere opinion as opposed to knowledge, or favorably when true opinions and beliefs are 
 set in antithesis to the appetites and instincts.'" These shades of meaning arise 
 naturally out of Greek usage, and would call for no comment if they had not been cited 
 to convict Plato of inconsistency or change. The mental process that terminates in 
 the affirmation or negation that constitutes Bo^a may be expressed in words, Xo'709,"" 
 or take place in silent thought. In the second case it is Bidvoia — a discourse in the 
 soul.'" Acdvoia, then, mere or silent thought, may be opposed to speech'*" or to 
 thought accompanied or interrupted by sensation.'" It is thus often a synonym of 
 pure thought.'" But the Republic, in default of a better term,"^ employs it to denote 
 
 336r;ieoe(e(.,156B,186DE,152BC; }'hileb.,3iA; Charm., ^wphileb., 38E, «ai Adyoj 6i yiyovty oirois 6 totc So^av 
 
 159 A. iKuKoiiitf. 
 
 337 iJep., 523 B, is U^vC, inb ri,, alcrSw^^t «pc.6M»'a. ^" PhUeh.. 38 D : Thcatet, 189 E, 190 A. Soph., 263 E, 
 
 Phileb., as C, iroAAiicis iSoi-Ti .... PoiiAe(T«ai (cpi^eii- 0ai7)5 if Siii-oia ixiv «ai Aoyot raurdf n-A^i' i iiiy eVrbt T^s i^uxi)! iipo! aiiriji- 
 
 Tav6' anep opa. This is not quite the modern psychologist's 5taAoYos, etc. 
 
 recognition of the judgment involved in perception, but it 342 5o/)/i., 238B, 264A. 
 
 leads up to Aristotla's characterization of sensation as 3,3 Thecetet., 195C D; Rep.. 511 C, J^a-om p.«. .... iAAi ^i 
 
 Svvai^^v avM*uro>. «p.r.«,^. A,iali/t. Post, in fine. aMrj^.au: In PhcEdo. 73 D, it is the (memory) imagination 
 
 333 Pft/Ie6., 38B, e*c (i.i'^/i7j5 T« «ai aic^^ucws 5ofa, Phcedo, of modern I)Sychology : fcat et- rjj fiiai'Oia fXapOf TO €t5o5 TOO 
 
 (« ToiiTwi- (sc. the senses) 6e yiycoito ti^vf^v " ^^^ 5dfa. Charm., n-atSos; in Rep., 603 C, it is the mind, including higher and 
 
 159 A, al<TeY}ai.v . . . . tf ^? B6$a. In Thecetet., 170B, iATj^i) lower faculties. 
 
 fitacoiaf .... \Pfv6^ So^av, Staioia and 66$a are virtually ^*i Phcedo, 66 A, elAiKpiver tJj itai'oia ; 65 E, avrb iKatrrov 
 
 synonyms. Stavoi}9i,y<u. In Thecetet., 195 DE, we pass from an image 
 
 ^•^^ Phileb., 60 T), fif^fx-qv Kai 4>P^^V<^'-^ <o.'- a.\r}07i 56^av tjjs of a man, ot* 5mi'ooi'nt9a /iokoi-, opw/iei' 6" oO, to abstractions as 
 
 ai-TTJ? iSta? Ti^ejuevo?. Pkcsdr., '231 D, €>'i>uTo« iniBvfxta .... ra ei'ScKa a fATfSiv aWo'Ji StavofiTaiTis; c/- ifep., 526 A, &!» Siaroij- 
 
 €TriKTT]To? Bo^a. Tim., 77 B. In Thecetet., 187 A, So^d^etv is (Jfji-at M^dfo*- evxwpci. 
 
 almost the pure thought of Phcedo, 65 C. ^45533 D, ov n-tpi 61-0^0705 a/i^icr^ijTijo-ts. 
 
 173
 
 48 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 the processes of mathematics and the sciences, which are inferior to the pure thought, 
 vov<;, of dialectic, in that they depend on sensuous imagery and hypotheses.^" 
 
 Plato describes memory images,"" and images of "imagination.""*' But he has 
 no term for imagination as a faculty intermediate between abstract or verbal thought, 
 on the one hand, and sense-perception, on the other. For i^avracria takes its color 
 from (j)aiveTaL and (papTci^eTai, which include all forms of opinion and illusion, and it is 
 often merely a disparaging synonym of Bo^a.^'^ But cjiaivcTai, though applicable to 
 any notion that appears true, is most naturally used of the appearances of sense, and 
 BO (j)avTaaia is pi'eferably the form of Bo^a that accompanies sense-perception,"" and 
 may be defined as avfifiL^i^ alcT6^aea)<; Kal So'^a?.""' Pure infallible knowledge as an 
 ideal must be sharply distinguished even from true opinion."*^ Strictly speaking, it 
 cannot be defined,"'" and is unattainable in this life."'* Poetically it may be described 
 as the vision of the ideas, and we may be said to approximate to it in proportion as we 
 "recollect" the ideas by severe dialectic."'' Practically knowledge is true opinion, 
 sifted and tested by dialectic, and fixed by causal reasoning."* "True opinion" may 
 be disparaged in contrast with the ideal, or praised as a necessary stage toward its 
 attainment.'" It is a very mechanical criticism that finds contradiction or inconsist- 
 ency here. 
 
 There is no limit to the contradictions or developments that a false subtlety can 
 discover in Plato's psychology. Most of them are by implication explained away in 
 the foregoing summary. I will close with two or three further examples which must 
 stand for all. 
 
 Susemihl "'" argues that the Thecvtefus marks an advance on the psychology of the 
 Phcedrus because it includes WalinichmiingsnrfJicile in Boxelv or So'|o."''^ But the 
 Thecetetus itself elsewhere attributes them to atadt)(n<i, for only so could it identify 
 Protagoras's theory with the definition aiaOrja-i.<; — i-maTrifir). As we have seen, the 
 distinction is futile, for aia-drjo-i^ may at any time be the modern sense-perception, 
 
 3<6 Hep., 511 D, 534 A. See Idea of Good, pp. 230 ff. S'" Theatet., 152 C, <t>ai>TatTia apa nal aicrflijtni raiiTOy eV T« 
 
 3ii Pluleb., 39 C; Phcedo. 73 D; Tkecetet., 191 D, ?« iv Sep^or, „a. ,i,r. ror, to.ovto«. Soph., 2U A, oTa„ ^i, k„»^ avrvv 
 
 . - . .p . ■ - 1 aAAa fit' aladntrno^ Trapn Tcvl To toioOtoI' av rrddo^ : i. €. it is herO 
 
 fvji TO ti&uiKov avrov, etc. ^" 
 
 not a memory image, but a percept accompanied by belief. 
 
 ^*^Phileb., 39 C, nept .... Tic jifAAoi/Twc; 40 A B, and « „ „ , « -r. - , . 
 
 ,i_ « . ,- i. * ^v « ^' * 1.L 1- m- 3^' Son/t., 264B. Hence here 263 D, "pavTatria, and F/ifteo., 
 
 the fantastic account of the functions of the liver, Tim., ' ' ^^^^^^ l^o ^ v/ *./,■*- ^a * .* i, ., 
 
 Ti A D r- *. *• ti „ J * „■ n ^ ^ -. 40 A, "^ai'Tafffiara { = imaginations or imaged expectations) 
 
 71 A B. Grote, expecting the modern atomistic order: sen- ' ., , . , , , , . . t# , • - 
 
 *■ « ;™-,™« ;^«o -^.A ™««f ;.. c.-^^^i^^A *Ur.i. ;„ r»i n^i. are said to admit truth and falst'hood. Modern atomistic 
 
 sation, image, idea, judgment, is surprised that in Fhilco.^ . . . ,, 
 
 on „ „ -1 „« »- fi 1. •** i • ;., 4.1,-. „.,i .^A psychology sometimes conceives images as mere pictures 
 
 39, memory and sensation first write Aoyoi in the soul, and : , . „. . .,.,.- i 
 
 ^, , J. ■ . 1, ■ i • t involving no ailirmation or belief. Aristotle seems to ex- 
 
 that, secondly, a painter supervenes who paints images of , . . . < o , - ^» . . 
 
 ., . . I ,, )- p.t T> i. -1. • u press this view in De Annua, 4o2«, 10, eori 6 n Aavrao'ia 
 
 these Aoyoi and the corresponding 6ofai. But it is charac- " . . , . t^ i. • .«! ,« ^J'\ • m 
 
 ■ i- * r>i i. i i iL ■ p. iL -J ii. J €T«poy dtacfiti^ Kai aTTodtaacut^, But lu 42o(ii 12, thinking of 
 
 toristic of Plato to put the image after the idea, the word, *^ ^ . « , .\ . ^^ . * < vu . ^ «» 
 
 ],i.j , 1 », iv. ■ v. Philebus, 40 A B, he says, ai fie Aaj'Tao'iai -n-vovraL at ttAciov? 
 
 and the judgment everywhere. Moreover, the images here , jc - « , « ^.-j^t ^ , 
 
 are not the primary images of perception, which are in- ^^^ ^'^* 
 
 cUidod in Plato's altrdr^aKi, but imaginative visualizations =*^2 Tim., 51 D E. ^53 Thecetetus, infra; supra, p. 43. 
 
 of beliefs and hopes, lu the mature human mind this is 35i p/icerfo, 66. 67 ; Laws^mi'D,^'; vovv nork Qvriro\<i oii-^miv 
 
 probably tlio real order: (1) sensation (perception), (2) oJ/riM. 
 faint verbal judgments, (3) vivifying of specially interest- 
 ing judgments by imaginative visualization. 
 
 •^<'i Thewtet, 161 E, iKiy\tiv t« dXAi^Awj- t^avrMiat rt «oi ''^^'^ Supra, n. 301. 
 
 fiofa?. ■■'!>» Neue Plat. Forsch., p. 52. 31.9 209 ff. 
 
 174 
 
 yot. 
 SE-'* Supra, n. 323. 360 Infra, on the Tkecetet.
 
 Paul Shorey 49 
 
 including judgment, and Bo^a may always be used either of the belief that accompa- 
 nies aiadi)cn<;, or of the operation of the mind as opposed to sensation. 
 
 Campbell thinks the rejection in Polilivns, 281 CD, of KaWCan^v ical /xeyiarriv 
 iraaSiv as a satisfactory definition is an advance on Thect'td., 207 D, where the sun is 
 defined as the brightest luminary, etc. But tlie point is simply that made "already" 
 against Gorgias's /j-eyicrra roov avOpwirelcov TrpayfiaTcov as a definition of the matter of 
 rhetoric."'"'' Again, Campbell thinks the mention of Bo^av and ^avraalav in Su2Jliisf, 
 260 E, as distinct faculties implies an advance on the Thecetetus. But the ThcmMus 
 does not identify the words by using them once or twice as virtual synonyms. Tin; 
 Sophist, 2(54 A, temporarily distinguishes (fyavTaata as a judgment present to the mind, 
 St' alcrd-qaeox;,^' while Bo^a is a judgment, eV yjrvx^ kuto, Bidvoiav .... ihtcl (ny7]<;. 
 But to press this would prove too much by distinguishing the Sophist from the late 
 Philehus also. 
 
 Lastly, Lutoslawski argues*'^ that the Phcedriis and Thecetetus are later than the 
 Republic, because they familiarly employ BiivafMi.<; in a sense first explained in Repuhlic, 
 477 C. He overlooks Protag., 330 A, and the five occurrences of the word in Char- 
 mides, 168, in a passage fully as metaphysical and abstract as that cited from the 
 Eepuhlic. Indeed, the case cited from the Phcedrus, 246 D, Tnepov Bwafxit;, is a mere 
 periphrasis like ij re tov -jnepov (j)vai<;, 248 C, and of the two cases from the Thecetetus, 
 158 E closely resembles the Charmidcs, using the word in the vague general sense of 
 power or potentiality, and 185 C, v ye Bia t))'; yXcoTTrj^ BiivafMii, uses it of the senses, as 
 do the Charmidcs, 168 D [ukoi], oi/rt9), the Republic, 477 C {oyjri.v kuI aKorjv), and the 
 Protagoras, 330 A (6cf>6a\n6<; wra). Of equal value are the developments which 
 Lutoslawski finds in the use of BiaXeKTiKi], (j>i\ocro(jiia p.edoBo'i, -q twv \6ya>v re'^^vrj, etc.^' 
 
 PAKT II 
 
 The dialogues were composed in some order, and a study of their parallels, coinci- 
 dences, or variations in thoiight will often seem to indicate the plausible, possibly the 
 real, historic sequence. That is not the purpose of this paper. I wish to show (1) 
 that our conception of Plato's philosophy is not appreciably affected by placing the 
 dialectical dialogues — the Sopliist, Politicus, Philebiis, and possibly the Parmenides 
 and Thecetetus — after, rather than before, the Republic; (2) that the evidence is at 
 present insufficient to date the dialogues of the "earlier" and "middle" Platonism, 
 and that, again, from the point of view of the interpretation of the content, it does not 
 greatly matter. The chief value of such negative results is that the way to them lies 
 through a further positive interpretation of Plato's true meanings. 
 
 There are certain perennial puzzles of language or thought that present them- 
 
 360Goi-ff., 451DE. '• In earlier works Plato used the term soul as free from 
 
 361 Cf. Thecctet., 158 C; supra, p. 48, n. 350. every ambiguity. Hero we see already a trace of doubts 
 
 about the existence of the soul." He might as well say 
 that the existence of the soul is called in question by Crito, 
 
 362 Pp. 331, 396. 
 
 363 Cf. the statement, p. 373, d propos of the innocent 48 ,\, exeti'o o ti itot' iarl, etc., or by Symp.^ 218.4, -riiv xapStav 
 phrase, Thecett't., 184 C, tire i/'u^jji- flrt 6 ti 6t-i Ka\tli' that: ij i/zu^']'' yap ^ o ti 6ei ovo^octoi. 
 
 175
 
 50 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 selves to Plato in three forms: as mere eristic sophisms; as hindrances to a sound 
 logical method ; as serioiis problems of epistemology and metaphysics. They may be 
 roughly enumerated as the problem of Being and not-Being, or the true nature of 
 predication and negation; the antithesis in thought and things of the one and the 
 many, the whole and the part, permanency and change, rest and motion ; the nature 
 and possibility of real knowledge, and the meaning of consciousness of self. They are 
 all directly or indirectly involved in the theory of ideas, but we may also study them 
 in the group of dialogues in which they are most prominent. 
 
 The EidhydcmKS presents a broad burlesque of all the chief sophisms of eristic. 
 The Parmenides systematically exposes all the antinomies concerning the one and the 
 many, the whole and the part, rest and motion, that can be deduced from the abuse of 
 the ambiguity of the copula. The TItecefeiiis covers with persiflage the forms of 
 eristic associated with one-sided theories of knowledge, especially materialism and 
 extreme Heracliteanism, and makes a serious effort to solve the epistemological prob- 
 lem. Here perhaps, and here only, does the Socratic avowal of perplexity express 
 Plato's own state of mind. The Sopliisf makes explicit the lessons implied in the 
 Parmenides and TliccEfetus, and finally disposes of fourth-century eristic so far as it 
 affects the presuppositions of practical logic and sound method. The Politicus applies 
 the method of the Sojdiist to the definition of the true statesman, reafiirming from a 
 different point of view, and perhaps with less confidence in the ideal, the chief doc- 
 trines of the Pepuhlic. The Pliilehus restates the true logical method that emerges 
 from eristic or metaphysical debate and applies it to the ethical problem of the 
 suinmum bontim. 
 
 We will begin with the Sojdiist, which contains the fullest exposition of method 
 and the most explicit analysis of the fundamental eristic sophism. For our purpose 
 there are three topics; (1) the method of definition by dichotomy; (2) the problem of 
 Being and not-Being; (3) the logical and grammatical analysis of the sentence. 
 
 1. The formal dichotomies of the Sophist and Politicus lend these dialogues a 
 very un-Platonic aspect. They may be said to be characteristic of Plato's "later" 
 style, so far as this can be true of a feature that is less prominent in the Laws than it 
 is in the Gor<jias or Pha;drus. Their significance for Plato's later thought is very 
 slight. To understand this we must distinguish the elaboration of a definition by 
 successive dichotomies from the more general logical use of distinction, division, and 
 classification. Aristotle is at great pains to prove that the method of dichotomy 
 assumes and does not establish the definition."'' His criticism may have been needed 
 against literal-minded pupils of tlie Academy. Plato obviously is amusing himself 
 by playing with the method. ^''^ He clearly recognizes that formally correct dichoto- 
 mies may lead to half-a-dozen definitions of the same object.^"" All depends upon the 
 tact with which the original "one," the concept to be divided, is chosen,^"' and the 
 
 3ft* ^TiaJ. Pr., 31 ; Anal. Post.^ll^^X Part. An, ^\, 'I'll. ^^'T Ibid.^ 232 B, aA\' avtlKaffuifJiev tv npiaTOV rutv nepl TOf 
 
 865SeeBONITZ pp. 180 ff. aoiittarriit eipTjfj.iviav, iv yap ji ^ot /xaAicrra KtiTe^avij ai/TOt 
 
 iMHoph., 231. ' nwi'y. 
 
 176
 
 Paul Shorey 
 
 51 
 
 insight that selects nt each turn*" the most significant principle of subdivision. The 
 process of dichotomy is only a mechanical aid to exhaustive search and the discovery 
 of all relevant distinctions." ' The elaboration of it as a method of definition in the 
 Sojjhist and Politicus is a mere episode. It is not followed up in the Philebiis, 
 Timceus, or Laws, and is therefore of no importance for Plato's "later" thought. 
 
 A very different thing is the broader use of the method for the avoidance of 
 eristic equivocation and the correction of hasty generalization or inarticulate em[)iri- 
 cism. To distinguish and divide for these purposes is still the only way of clear 
 thought and accurate speech, and Plato's insistence upon it as the one principle of 
 logical salvation is worthy of the keenest dialectician that ever lived. But in this 
 larger use the method kut e'iSr) refiveiv is by no means confined to the Sophist and 
 Politicus. There are hints of it in the Symposium.^™ The Gorcjius employs it with 
 some ostentation.'" It is found in the Phcrdo,^'- the Crafulus,"" and the Thecdetiis.^^* 
 Its terminology and use are familiar to the Republic.""' Most explicit is the Phcedriis, 
 which not only makes an ostentatious display of divisions and subdivisions/" but 
 describes the entire procedure of true method in language that closely resembles the 
 summing up of the whole matter found in the Pliilcbus."''' But side by side with 
 
 368 Note KariSt;.', Soph., 232 A; Polit., 266 E, etc. 
 369 The imagery of the Sophist and PoUlicjis implies 
 this throughout. Cf. Soph., 233 C ; Polit., 258 C, 260 E, 262 A, 
 
 TO ^r]Tovf^iyotf €V 6tjrAa(n'ot(Ti ra vvv iv Tois iifi.itTetjii' ei? Tore 
 iroi^ffet ^T)Teio-6ai; Soph., 229 D, ei aTOHOt- ijSiJ taxi naf, rf TU'a 
 e\ov Biaipeait' a^iav tTrwrv/iias; Plia'tlr., 227 H, 'car' tifij) l^^xpt. 
 Toil aT^lr|TOV Tt:>t'tii'; rhilcfi.,V.i,liB, TfiV iot.vvv 6ia<f>op6Tr]Ta; 
 
 etc. 
 
 3TOSi/mp., 205 BCD, iiJxfAdi/Tet . . . . n lUoi . ... if 
 ^optoi' a^opiCT^ef TO TTtpi . . . . oi fj-iv aWj) Tpejro^ecot . . . . ot 
 6e Kaja ky Tt €l5os ioi-Tes. Cf. Pol/t., 2()2 D, to /xei- .... w? el- 
 , , , . di^aipoO^re; .... Kdi yecoy ei* aVTO elvai. Soi'h., 222.\, 
 iKTp€TT€a9ov; Polit.,2oSC; Tim.,GO'B, fivo^ £K ndpTuiv aifiopiadei' ; 
 
 Soph., 229 G, 257 C, 268 D. 
 
 371 454 E, 5uo alBrj Buifjiev. The two eiSij are denoted, as in 
 the Sophist, by adjectives in -«6!, 455 \, frequent also in 
 pp. 464, 465. Socrates's humorous definition of rhetoric, 
 pp. 462 ff., is in the vein of the Sophist. It starts from the 
 alternative art (science) or not-art, 462BC, like Soph., 
 219 A; Polit.. 25S B. It is found to be a branch ot the 
 pseudo-art KoAaKeuTixTj, which is divided Tcrpaxa. corre- 
 sponding to a four-fold division of art obtained by two 
 successive sub-divisions. Similarly Sophistic is finally 
 found to be a part, p-opiov. Soph., 268 D, of the quadripartite 
 
 iftavTauriKoi'. 
 
 372 79 A, ^w/iff .... 6v6 ci5i), etc.; 90 B, ai-ey T^y irept tous 
 
 \6y0ViTi\vrj^; 75 D, oU €Jri{T0pttyi^6/ieOa TOUTO 6 eO'Tl. Cf. Phileb., 
 
 26 D; Poi4(.,258C. 
 
 373 In 424 CD, the division of letters KoiTi eiS>i and the 
 subdivision of these ciStj is the method of Philel>v.s, 18 B C. 
 We are further required to examine the things to be named 
 by letters and see ct ev aiiroU fi-eo-Tif tlfiTj, and then apply one 
 set of eiii to the other, precisely as in Phasdrus, 277 B. 
 
 371 147 D, €7rfi5il on-etpoi TO jrA^do? .... ^vKKa^elv eis €v 
 (C/. Phileh., 18 B, orat- tis to aiTfLpov avayKaaSri irpwTOC Xap-fia- 
 vtt,v, etc.) : 1-17 E, TOf aptOpi'oy nafTa Six** 6i<Adj3o/i€f , etc. 
 
 375 397 B, tA Svo elSr): 440 E, 445 C. In 454 .4, eristic arises 
 
 6id TO n'rj 6vya<r9ai (CaT* ilBr] SiaipoiifiEt'Oi to Atyotitvof tJTLfjKOJretv, 
 
 precisely as in Polit, 285 A. Cf. Phileh., 17 A ; Sojth., 253 D. 
 Again, cf. Ecp., 470 B, fiyo TaOra ra ov6fi.aTa .... ovTa ejri 
 Bvolv Ttyolv Btatt>opali'; 532 E, Kara ffota Bjj ciSij SUaTijKev; with 
 
 which cf. 504 A; Phileti., 23 D, and Polit., 260 C, tJj^ . . . . 
 Te'xf*)*' .... Qeiniov tl TTp BtftrTfjKiv with context. Compare 
 further 544 C D, i) Tts Kal ef ciSct Sta<t>avii TLi-t (ceiTat with 
 Polit., 2So B, Bi.a^opa<; .... oiToaaLTrep if ttSftri KflvTai; 580D, 
 fitjjpTjTat KOTd Tpta et5»], oiJTut Kai i^wxif .... Tpi^^. 
 
 376 244 E, 253 C, 270 B, 271 D. 
 
 377 It is often affirmed ( Jowett, Natorp, Jackson, Bury, 
 etc.) that the method of the Philclnts, Politicus, and Sophist 
 is more advanced than that of the Phcedrus, in which " the 
 complementary methods of generalization and division are 
 applied merely to the discovery of Socratic definitions 
 with a view to consistency in the use of debatable terms.'' 
 Well, the subject of the Phmdrus being the necessity of 
 basing rhetoric upon definitions and dialectic, that point 
 is naturally emphasized there (265 D, ;>•' e«<t<rToi' opijofievos 
 
 BrfKov TTOiij, TTtpi ou av aei BiBdtTKny edi>.jj). But all theories 
 
 of a sharp distinction between the method of the Phcedrus 
 and that of the " later " dialogues will only injure the 
 scholarship ot their propouuders. The Phcedrus requires 
 
 Ti)v o^oioTTjTa ritiy bvT<ov 6tei5ti'ai (262 .\; cf. Soph., 231 A, Get 
 ndfTviv p.a\i.(TTa TTcpi Tos o/iotoTTjTa? iroteiatfttt Trjv (^vAaKJJc; 
 Phileb., 13AB). To do this we must know o iany Uairrof 
 Toir oi'Toji/ (262 B). The method is twice described (265. 266, 
 and 270 D). We must first reduce to unity Ti TroAAaxn Bieir- 
 
 TTopnei-a (265 D; cf. Phileh., 16 D, iei n-^dV iStai- irepi iral'TOt 
 
 iKiaTOTe Se/itVou! fijTeii'; cf. 26 D). This Unity we are to 
 divide k«t' dpOpn 17 niit>vKc (265 E: cf. Polit., 262, and with 
 KoiTov'-i'i'" ef. Polit., 287 C, 265 D, «aTa9p(iiieii-) and subdivide 
 (266 .\, Te>fwi' oiJK fKavriKt), distinguishing and following up 
 separately the right- and left-hand pallia (266 A, Stfid .... 
 
 aptarepd; cf. Soph., 264 E, nopeviaHai Kara Toiiiri Sf^ia det fiepoc 
 
 ToO TuijSei'Tos) , till the object of our search and of our praise 
 
 177
 
 52 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 what seems to us the purely logieal treatment of the ideas as conceptual genera and 
 species, the P/(a'(//*«s pictures the prenatal vision of them; the RcpiMic announces 
 the most naive realism with regard to any and every universal ; and the Tiiinvus sol- 
 emnly reaffirms their objectivity/" In the face of these facts, it is impossible to 
 maintain that the dichotomies of the Sojjhist are evidence of a later doctrine in which 
 the transcendental or naively realistic idea is discarded for the genera and species of 
 conceptual logic. The emphasis and center of interest may shift from dialogue to 
 dialogue — the doctrine remains the same. 
 
 But the opposition between the two points of view cannot be denied or disguised. 
 The noumenal idea is one. But not only as reflected in things, biit as subdivided by 
 logic, it is many. By a natural and inevitable metaphor both Plato and Aristotle 
 speak of particulars and lower species as parts of the higher conceptual whole to which 
 they are subordinated. By the theory of ideas, as we have said, each of these parts, 
 every subordinate concept, is an idea, not only the summum genus and the lowest 
 species, as animal and dog, but the intermediate groups, mammal and quadruped, etc. 
 The Aristotelian objection that the one dog will thus embody a whole series of ideas 
 we have dismissed with the metaphysics of the subject. The relation of the particular 
 to the idea is a mystery. And once we have accepted the metaphors "presence," 
 "participation," "pattern," a number of ideas can be reflected by or present in one 
 thing as easily as can one idea. 
 
 But the elaboration of logical and scientific classification brings up the difficulty 
 in a new and more specific form less easily evaded. For the theory of ideas any and 
 every subordinate group apprehended as a conceptual unit by the mind is an idea.^'' 
 For sound logical and scientific classification only true genera and species are ideas — 
 not necessarily "true species" in the sense of the modern naturalist, but in the sense 
 of the Platonic logic; that is, classes and groups based on significant and relevant 
 distinctions. From the one point of view we expect every part to be an idea; from the 
 other, Plato explicitly warns us against mistaking for true ideas what are mere frag- 
 ments or parts.^" His embarrassment shows that he felt the difficulty. Sound 
 
 and blame is found {26fiA; cf. Soph., 2.'?5C, (vi-aKoKovSilv etc.; Polit., 285 A, etc.; Lmcs, 894 A A, 963 D, 905 0. Each 
 
 airrtu Siaipovvra^ .... iuitrnep av A»j00ij). He who Can thus dialogue brings out some aspect of it less emphasized in 
 
 look ii^iv KtiL ent jroAAa is a dialectician (266BC; cf. Par- the others. We cannot expect Plato to repeat himself 
 
 men., I.'i2 A, ^ia Ti9 cffws 5o«et iSe'a e'rai ejri jrai-To iSoi'Ti; Soph., verbatim. But these variations have little or no signifi- 
 
 235 C, Trjtf Tw** oi>Tui SvyafjityitH' (U€TtcVai Ka0' €KaiTTa re icai (jri cance for the evolution of his thought. 
 jrdfTa fiiftoSoy) , Again, looking at it from the point of view 378 '?i/n>-a n '^5 n ''IS- n 3" n ^"C 
 
 of scit'uco rather than of rhetoric and dialectic (270), the 
 object of investigation is either simple or manifold. If SJ'iJep., 596 A., 479D; Soph., 22:, C, riira. SeHov ^Sv tUoi, 
 
 it has many tlSr,, wo must enumerate them (270 D, raira ipi»- eVe''"£p o"to SUyy,^Kew is irtpor ov o Wyos, irip tVu,i.t.^ms 
 
 ^■qaciiivavii cf. J'kilch., 10 D, npiy iv T15 Tov ipiflfio" ""'"u """ viv i,^' ^^Cv Tvxclv ifior. PftiVefc., 18 C D, the «e(r(«ii of 
 
 irirra KOTiJn ri.^ (ieraji; ToO iireipou T« «o. ToJ ivoi) , and treat association in our minds makes a unity, and hence an idea 
 
 each subordinate (» {cf. Philch., 16 D, itai rCy (1/ iKtivuiv Ua- "f vpo/iMaTiit^. 
 
 arov TiakLv axrauTwc) as we do the original unity — i. c, study ^^^ Polif.., 287 C, implietl " already " in Phtr.dr., 265E; 
 
 its potentialities (^tjvap.ts, uctlvo or passive; cf. Soph., c/. 1*0^/7.. 262 B, aAAo to m<>o« ci^a cISo? exe'Tw. We are more 
 
 217 DE) in relation to other tilings. Klietoric is a special likely to "nii^et with ideas" if we bisect the universal 
 
 psychological application of this gencralscientific m(?tho<l. {MfaoTo/ietr) and proctM;d by successive dichotomies, than if 
 
 It is one method which is described in Pliccdr., 265,266, we attempt to separate the ultimate species at once. Cf. 
 
 270D; Phileb., 16-18; Cratyl., 424C; Soph., 226C, 235 C, 253, tho insistence ou tA /»«»« in Phileb., 17 A. 
 
 178
 
 Paul Shokey 53 
 
 method required liiiii t(i emphasize the distinction. But he was quite unable to define 
 its nature.^" The nomiiialistic. higic of tlie modern "flowing philosophy" of evolution 
 would meet the problem by making both "true species," and the tentative species of 
 imperfect or erroneous generalization alike relative to the purposes of man — working 
 hypotheses, instruments of greater or less precision and range, employed by thought in 
 the effort to shape in its own image or check for its own ends the ever-flowing stream 
 of change. 
 
 Plato would have j^referred mystery and self-contradiction to this as an ultimate 
 philosophy. But his logical practice approaches nearer to it than docs any interme- 
 diate compromise of common-sense from Aristotle to the nineteenth century. Psycho- 
 logically and ontologically all universals, as opposed to sensations and images, are 
 equally noumenal ideas, whether language provides a name for them or not.'*" In 
 logical and scientific practice the only ideas worth recognizing, whether named or not, 
 are those that embody significant distinctions relevant to the jmrpose in hand.'*"^ The 
 recognition that words are mere counters^" and do not always stand for (relevant) 
 ideas'** is an apparent, but not real, contradiction of the abbreviated formula of the 
 Republic that we assume an idea for every word.'*"^ Similarly, as we have already 
 seen, the occasional and inevitable use of conceptual language is no derogation from 
 Plato's philosophic realism.^" Practical logic and psychology must treat ideas as con- 
 cepts, whatever else or more they may be. 
 
 2. The puzzle that false speech and erring opinion are impossible because we 
 cannot say or ojiine that which is not, is nothing, must be translated into Greek to 
 win even a semblance of seriousness. To appreciate Plato's achievement in disposing 
 of it forever we must have studied it in the poem of Parmenides and in the eristic 
 of the fourth century.^** Our problem here is the seeming contradiction between 
 the Republic and the Sophisf. The Republic distinctly avers that it is impossible 
 even to opine that which is not — thus apparently yielding to the fallacy."'' The 
 admirable analysis of the Parmenides and the Sophist explains it by pointing out 
 that is, in its double function of copula and substantive verb, is ambiguous,^ and 
 that this ambiguity extends to the convenient Greek idiomatical use of the parti- 
 
 381 PoJ;<., 263 A B, to distinguish genus (or species) and 386 596 A. The common name of iroAAi does imply a con- 
 part would require a long discussion. He can only say ceptual ci*, which implies an idea, though it may not be 
 that, while every species is a part, every part is not a relevant or worth while (afioi' cjrojry/iias) for the classiiica- 
 species (elSos). tion or purpose in hand. 
 
 3S2 Supra, p. 37, n. 250. 387 E. g., Pha>,dr., 263 D E, iiviyKaatv ii/jii'; vi!o>~a.&t:lv .... 
 
 383 i?ep., 4-15 C, 544 AD, ^ riVa oAXtji/ *x^'5 Ihiav iroAiretos, ei/ Ti Tiav ovTttiv, etc.; PoliL, 2jS C, &vo fl6ij 6iat'0ij(H}fai riiv 
 
 iJTts Kdi €f ciSei fiiai^acfi Tifl K€iTai; Tim., 83 C, «t5 iroAAa /itc i/(v;^7)t' Tjfiuji' noLTjirai; Phileb,, 18 C D, 23 E, fo^aat, 7r»j noTe rjtf 
 
 Ka'i ai'oiiOia jSAejreii', opac 5e ei/ avToU tv yeVoy h'bv a^iow e'jrwi'U- avTuiV €v Kal TroAAa cxarepoi'. See SUpra, p. 39, n. 264. 
 
 f.;«; Soph., 229 D, ^ xo.a Ixo" S^aip.a.v i^.a. in^yv^ia,! 223 A, 3^3 g^^ ^^ j ^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^_ ^^g g_ ^^^ y^,^ ^^j^ ^^ 
 
 225C, 287 D, names for ideas often fail because the aucients ~ 
 
 were neglectful of tj)? riov yci-ui^ Kar' ci5j) Siaipecreo)?. Polit., 
 
 260E, ii'oli'v^io^ 6^o^a ertpoi- oiro;? iropoxcupijcrai'Tts eeiTflai 3S0 478 B. Cf. Parmen., 1.32 BC, 142 A, 164 A, 166 A; 
 
 Tn-oi; 261 E, TO iLri airov&aieiv t'iri Tois oi'oMairi, 203 C. Thecetel., 167 A, 188 D. 
 
 381 ".Already," Charm., 163D; Polit., 261E; Theatet., 33o pnrmen., 142 C, vv" Se ou« aiiri) itrrif ^ viroSeais, ei tv 
 
 168 B, 1S4C; Soph., 21i C; Laws, G21 D, and passim, tv . . . . aAA" ti er itrTiv; 163C, t6 6e fiij eanv .... apa tir/ n o'AAo 
 
 '^^^Soph., 217 A ; Polit., 263 C, on Trao-t Tavrhv tirofo^a^eo' arjfLaiviL ij ovtria^ anovtriai'f 162 A B, with my interpretation, 
 
 tVx's ii'op.a.i Kep., 454 A. A. J. P., Vol. XII, pp. .349 ff. ; Sophist., 256 D E ff. ; Tim., 38 B. 
 
 179
 
 54 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 ciple — ov and ixrj ov, ovra and /^j; ovra; that /x?/ ov is not nonentity, but otherness; 
 not nothing, but some other thing. ^'' If we can show that other dialogues, pre- 
 sumably earlier than, or contemporary with, the Republic, ridicule the fallacy, or imply 
 the answer to it given in the Sopliist, we have established a prima facie presumption 
 for an interpretation of the Republic that will remove the contradiction.™" This is 
 the case. In the Eidhijdemus the fir) 6v puzzle is one of the stock fallacies of the 
 eristics. To desire to make Kleinias wise is to wish to make him other than he is, 
 what he is not — not to be. The suggestion enrages Ctesippus, but Socrates bids him 
 fir) ovofnaTi Bia<pepecrdaiJ"^ And when the quibble is further invoked in support of the 
 paradox that y{revSi) Xe'yeiv and i|reu8^? 80^0 are impossible, since we cannot opine or 
 say what is not, Socrates observes that this opinion refutes itself as well as all others, 
 and declines to take it seriously.^'"' In the Crafi/lus Cratylus argues by a fallacy, else- 
 where exemplified in Plato, ^"^ that a bad law is no law, an unapt name is no name, and 
 a false statement is no statement, because it is to fii) ra onTa Xeyeiv/"' Socrates dryly 
 observes that this thesis, though it has many supporters, is too subtle for him,^' and 
 then proceeds to offer a jjerfectly sufficient j^ractical explanation of the difficulty by 
 means of an illustration analogous to the image employed in the Thecctetiis'^^ to 
 account for certain forms of mental confusion. As you may wrongly assign A's pic- 
 ture to B and B's to A, so iu the use of terms it is possible to apply X to A and Y to B 
 when the opposite distribution would be correct, and, iu the case of words, true."" 
 This explanation Cratylus is urged to accept in order to avoid (eristic) debate, "va /ir) 
 Iia)(0i)jie6a iu toI<; Xoyot?.*™ And when he yields, Socrates commends him on the 
 ground that this is not the place to argue the question.''"' There is a further anticipation 
 of the Sophist in the suggestion that those who insist on the quibble are 6-\ln/j.adel<;.*^ 
 
 391 It is tme that Plato nowhere states the ambiguity most effective analysis of the fallacy in the form in which 
 of the copula with the explicitness of Aristotle and John Greek usage presented it. Plato is, fur the rest, aware of 
 Stuart Mill. But the passages cited in the preceding note the distinction between contradictory and contrary op- 
 prove that he understood it perfectly. Grote, in his criti- position {^Symp., 201 E; Parmen., 1(50BC; Sopfi.,2TiB,ovK 
 
 cism of the Sophist, objects (1) that Plato fails to distin- ap', evai'Tiov oray dn-6<f)a(7cs At'yjjTai aTj/xaifeii' (niy\Mpjja6fieSa)t 
 
 guish t(TTif in its function of pure and simple copula ; (2) and he understands the use of cTi-ai as a copula, thougli the 
 
 that the (absolute) other of Being is just as meaningless religious and metaphysical associations of " Being " cause 
 
 as absolute not-Being; (3) that negation is something dif- him to stigmatize it as " inexact " {Tim., SSB). 
 
 ferent from otherness, and that to define it as otherness is 302 jiy task would be much simplified if I could accept 
 
 to confuse the distinction between contrary and contra- Natorp's view (Hermes, Vol. XXXV, p. 425), that the rela- 
 
 dictory. These criticisms ignore the difference between ji^ Being of the Sophist is distinctly anticipated in 
 
 Greek and English idiom, the necessity that Plato felt of rhaclo. 79 A, Jiio t\iri riv Si'tu;- to ^kv iparbi', rb &i kii.5ii. But 
 
 meeting the mt ov fallacy in its own terminology, and the hvTinv is not to be pressed here. 
 
 religious or ontological associations which half playfully, -jnt c /i ^ ooo <>c- * 
 
 half seriously, he was resolved to preserve for ea-ai. to /uj 
 
 o.', besides its ontological meaning, can be naturally us.^d 3M286C, where, as in the Thecetet., it is attributed to 
 
 in Greek idiom as a mere category embracing all particular Protagoras with a malicious allusion to iA^jOtia. 
 
 cases of (a) negative predication, (h} misstatement. Any ^'J^iZdB; cf. Hipp, major, 2iii'E; il///ios, 314 D ff. 
 
 particular p-yj ov is something other than the corresponding 396 429 D. 
 
 Of ; and, generalizing, Plato may say that m*) ov is the other 
 
 of tbc Of without imi)lying that it is the other of absi>lute 
 
 Being. For the same reason, in explaining the nature of 
 
 error and misstatement, he is justified in substituting for 3™430D, .Vl 6t to;? ifi^^iri npb, T<p l,pe,,v Kal iA>,9^. 
 
 the general category m") ov a concrete (ailirmative) mis- ****'430D. *■*! 431 A. 
 
 statement, " Therotetus flies." It all sounds crude enough, *f^ 433 A, Sdfuijuei' our/j rij aAij^et'o oiiTu irws (\Tikvdivai. otfnai- 
 
 it we think it only through English idiom. But it was the Tepof toO iiovros, Cf. Soph., 251 B. 259 D. 
 
 180 
 
 397 KO/i>/*6Tcpos ^«c 6 Aoyos r} Kar' e/xe, etc. ; cf. .S'o^>/l., 239 B. 
 
 30« 191 B.
 
 Paul Shobey 55 
 
 It is obvious (1) that the fallacy is none to Plato; (2) that ho feels himself able to 
 carry the analysis farther; (8) that he does not do so because he wishes to write the 
 Crutylus, not the Sophist. 
 
 In the Thecetctus the matter is somewhat more complicated. As we shall show 
 more fully below, the object of the Thecetetus is not to refute or analyze the logical 
 fallacy that false opinion is impossible, but to explain the psychological nature of 
 error, and with it of cognition: rt ttot' earl tovto to ■jrciOo'; Tj-ap" •i]ixiv koL Tiva rpoTTov 
 eyyiyvofievov.*"^ For this the fir) ov quibble would have been wholly unfruitful. But it 
 could not be altogether ignored. Hence it is perfunctorily dismissed in a page with 
 the admission that the method of elvai and m «'^«' offers no explanation of error, since 
 6 So^d^aiv €V TL So^d^ei, and o fx,ijSev ho^d^wv to irapdiTav ovSe Bo^dl^ei.*"* We are thus left 
 free to pursue the psychological analysis kuto, to elBevac Kal ixi]. But it is absurd to 
 suppose that Socrates is really baffled in the ThecviHiis by a fallacy at which he 
 laughs in the Euihijdcmus and Cratijlus. And his real opinion of it is sufficiently 
 indicated by his attribution of it to Protagoras in this very dialogue.*"^ 
 
 The final analysis of the fallacy in the Sophist is introduced and accompanied by 
 persiflage in the manner of the Euihydcmus and Cratijlus, and by hints that it is a 
 mere eristic puzzle.'* The final common-sense formula that true speech and opinion 
 represent xa oma w e;^€i or w ecni. is not new.*"' It evades the psychological prob- 
 lems of the Thcivtctus, and it is reached by arguments purely logical and practical. 
 If we do not admit that jxt] ov normally means otherness rather than non-existence, we 
 shall make all rational speech and thought impossible.*"' The absolute 6V (and n>] ov) 
 of the Parmenides to which no intelligible predicates attach is reserved for ontology 
 and mysticism.*"" But iv toU Trap rj/xlv \6yoi<; (251 D) we must accept a doctrine of 
 mixed and relative Being and not-Being.*'" 
 
 The result of the inquiry is that, if Plato in the Republic falls into this fallacy, 
 the Republic must be earlier and less mature, not only than the Sophist, but than the 
 Euthydemus and the Cndylus. But Plato does not yield to the fallacy in the Repub- 
 lic. He merely varies his terminology to suit his theme. He needs the transcendental 
 absolute Being for the world of ideas as opposed to the world of sense, for the sym- 
 bolism of the idea of Good, the image of the sun, the cave, and the conversion from 
 the shadows to the realities. It would have been singularly tactless to preface these 
 passages with an explanation that ov, like m ov, is a relative term, and that all oWo 
 with which human logic can deal are likewise p-i] ovtu. There is no occasion for the 
 ovTa and prj ovTa of practical logic here. Absolute not-Being is consigned to total 
 
 W3 187 D. ■"'* 188, 189 A. lO? 263 B, Aeyei ii avrSti' 6 /iti' aAtjflijs Ti oi'Ta cil iVrc irepl croO. 
 
 ■i"5 lu Socrates's ironical defense of uUra-Protagorean- Cf.Cratyl. , 3!i:>B,6i avTaii'Takiyjiw's eaTi.vi\tieri<;; Eutfiudem., 
 
 ism, 16" A, OUTii yip Ti )ii) oi'TO SuwaToi' Sofiaai, aire iMa Trap 281 C, i^^i ri oi'Ta /jlcv TpoTror Tii'i Aeyei, oCr ftei'TOi lo! ye «x". 
 a iv nairxv- Cf. CratljL. 286 C. 40S 2SS C, 239 B, 219 B C, 252 C, 259 A, o Si viiv eifiiiKat^ff e'rai 
 
 *'^**236E, evavTioKoyia /ii) <TVvi\i<7da.i, etc,\ 237 B C ; 239 B, t5 ^t) Of, ^ irenraTw Tts u)S ou (cttXu>5 Ae'yOfiec «Ae'y^a? ^ ij.i\pt. Ttsp 
 
 efLe .... TraAai Ka'i Ti viiy TjTTTj^ei'Of av ciipoi jrepl rhv Toy ftjj ai' iSucaTjJ, AeKTeoi' «al eiteiVw ffa^oTTtp rjjiiets, etc., 260 A. 
 
 0..T0! JAeyxor, etc. ; (■/. 212 A, 213 A B, 252 C. Note also the ,„„.,-,l^ , ,q 
 
 „ 1- «.!■ . e .1. c k-. -.1 n ■ i <i>9 2o8 E ;c/. supra, p. 39. 
 
 close parallelism of tins part or the So/)ft(s( with tbo inten- ' ■" ^ ' •• 
 
 tional fallacies of the Parmenidts, infra, pp. 58, 59. "o 251 A, 251 C D, 259 A B. 
 
 181
 
 56 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 ignorance as it is iu the Soj^hisf.*" Pure Being is reserved for the ideas, as it is in 
 the Timanis, which was written at a time when the results of the Sopliist were cer- 
 tainly familiar to Plato. Its antithesis, the world of phenomena, is described as tum- 
 bling about between Being and not-Being — as a mixture of the two; the things of 
 sense are always changing — they are and are not."" It is not necessary to dash the 
 spirit of mystic contemplation and enthusiasm by the reminder that the ideas them- 
 selves, when drawn down into the process of human thought, move to and fro and 
 partake of both Being and not-Being."' We are concerned here only with the broad 
 contrast between the two worlds. To say that the objects of sense and the notions of 
 the vulgar tumble about between Being and not-Being, is merely another way of saying 
 that they belong to the domain of the mixed or relative Being and not-Being described 
 in the Sojohisf."* Only a deplorably matter-of-fact criticism can find in this adapta- 
 tion of the terminology to the immediate literary purpose a concession to a fallacy 
 ridiculed throughout the dialogues. And the arguments that would prove the results of 
 the SojMst unknown to the author of the Republic would ap23ly almost equally to the 
 Tiniceusj for there, too, Plato calmly reinstates the absolute ov which the SojjJiist 
 banishes from human speech as no less contradictory than the absolute /jlt] 6v, and 
 treats as an inaccuracy the expression to /uj) 6v fxr) 6v elvat, the practical necessity of 
 which the Sophist demonstrates.*"^ Yet the treatment of the "same" and the "other" 
 in the ■yjrvxoyovia (35) proves that the analysis of the So2)hist was familiar to the 
 author of the Timanis. 
 
 3. The explicit discrimination of ovofiara as names of agents and of p/jfiaTa as 
 names of actions is peculiar to Sopliist, 262. So the special definition of Sidvoia is 
 confined to the Hepiuhlic"'^ and nearly every dialogue employs some definition or 
 distinction which Plato does not happen to need again. Even if we concede that this 
 greater explicitness of grammatical and logical analysis marks the Sojihist as late, its 
 significance for the development of Plato's thought is slight. It is not repeated in 
 the Politicns or Laics,"' and it is virtually anticipated in the CrafijlKs, where it is 
 twice said that X070? is composed of prjixara and ovofjLara.'" It is barely possible, but 
 not necessary, to take pTjfiara here in the sense of "expression" or "phrase." Even 
 then it must include the verb. For ovo/xa is [ilainly used iu the sense of "name" or 
 "noun." Lutoslawski's argument*" that "it would be unjustifiable to apply to the 
 Cratylus a definition given only iu the SopJrist," obviously begs the question. The 
 expression (425 A), kuI crvWa^a<; av awnQivTe; e^ hv to, re ovofiaTa Kal to, pij/xara 
 avvTiOevrai, seems to put ovofiara and pr)p,ara on the same plane and is unfavorable to 
 
 *ii 477 A, tin ov nT/SafLfj ; 478 D E, toO TToi-Ttos ^Jj ofTo?. Not *i* Cf. A, J. p., Vol. IX, p. t%7. 
 
 foreseeiiiK modern philology, Plato (iid not thiuk it noces- ^i^ T/rn., 38 A B. ^ifi^wpra, n. 346. 
 
 sary to add iri^Tw or M.)6<.Mii a third lim.^ in 478 B, when ha <i7 Lutoslawski is mistaken in saying that pw« is used 
 
 asks !, iivvarov Kal {of«<r<.. to ^i? S"', which Ldtoslawski, i„ tiie distinctive sense of predicate iu Polit., 303 C, and 
 
 p. 429, thinks would bo unaccountable coming after the /,„„,s_ gjs B. In both places it means "saying," "state- 
 
 inquiry of tlio .S'o/>/l/fi/. Similarly ApIvLT {licitrdijc). nient." 
 
 •*"4iyHCI}. *1^ 425 A, 431 C, Aoyot ydp irov ii»« eyw^iai, J) TOVToiV ^vy6f<ji^ 
 
 **3Though it is hinted in tlie aAAijAwi' (cocrw^-ta of 470 A; iaTu\ 
 cf. tupra, p. 30, u. 244. »!» P. 431. 
 
 182
 
 Paul Shoeey 
 
 57 
 
 the notion of a progression from syllables to words, and from words to phrases and 
 sentences. In 481 B, if prjixara nuvins "verbs" or '^prcdicaies/' wo understand the 
 statement that they as well as ovo^ara may be falsely a[)[)lied. But what is a false 
 application of phrases? And if we evade this difficulty by taking p'q^ara as "sentences," 
 then \070t must mean, not *' sentences," but "discourses," and what is a false attribu- 
 tion of discourses? In fact, it would be easy to argue that the Cratylus takes for 
 granted the results of the Sophist and is therefore later. Our concern is not with 
 such "arguments," l>ut merely to sliow that, conceding the iitmost that the texts will 
 bear, the difference very slightly affects the relative maturity of the thought in the 
 
 two dialogues/"" 
 
 THE PARMENIDES 
 
 A great deal of ink has been s{>illed over the Parmenides, and the profoundest 
 mystical meanings have been discovered in its symmetrical antinomies/'' To rational 
 criticism nothing can be more certain than that they are in the main a logical exer- 
 citation more nearly akin to the Euthydemus and the Sophist than to the Tlmccus^ 
 and that they are n(jt meant to be taken seriously except in so far as they teach by 
 indirection precisely the logic of common-sense expounded in the Sophist.*" In 
 style, however, the Parmcaidcs presents few, if any, traces of the elaborate "late" 
 manner of the Sophist/-^ and this fact makes the identity of doctrine the more signifi- 
 cant. Both the Thccetctns and the Sophist allude to a meeting between Socrates and 
 Parmenides/'* The method of argumentation employed is characterized in the Phcvdrus 
 as a kind of rhetoric, and in the Sophist as mere eristic/"^ Many passages closely 
 resemble arguments and expressions which are ridiculed in the Thccetetas and Sophist^ 
 and which are presumably not serious here. 
 
 *20C/. supra, p. 33. n. 218. The further points made by 
 Lutoslawski are nearly all misapprehensions. He says 
 that the admission that philosophic teaching may be 
 given by continuous lecture, as well as by the method of 
 questi(^u and answer, is first found in '217 C. But Thecetet., 
 167 D, recognizes the same choice. The meaning of fiedo5o<; 
 in Soph., 227 A, is not more definite than that in Phaedr., 
 270 D, and Rep., 53^i C ff.. except in so far as the method of 
 theSophist and Polit'cus lays more stress on the mere mech- 
 anism of definition by dichotomy. Cf. sup)-a, n. 377. The 
 notion of logical exercise is not new here, but is found in 
 Meno, 75 A, iva Kai yevijTai troi fj-iXirr), etc., and is implied in 
 Thctntct., 147 A ff. Dialectic in the Republic is as clearly 
 the science of the division of notions as it is in the Phcedrus 
 and Sophist. See 454 A, 53.J B, supra, n. 305, See also on 
 6vfafit<;, supra, p. 49; and on the ideas as souls, su^^ra, p. 39, 
 
 <2i BuK^ on "Later Platonism," Jour, of Phil., Vol. 
 XXIII, pp. 161 ff., gives a useful summary of recent discus- 
 sions. 
 
 422 Cf. supra, p. 54. De Plat, idcarum docfrina, pp. 41 ff. ; 
 A. J. P., Vol. IX, pp. 185, 290 ff. 
 
 i2:tNAT0RP, Avckiv, Vol. XII. 
 
 424 Themtet., 183 E; Soph., 217 C. Either allusion might 
 precede or follow the actual composition of the Panjie- 
 nides. Natoep, Archiv^ Vol. XII, pp. 291, 163, supposes that 
 
 The dialogue itself abounds in hints 
 
 Plato at the time of Thecetet., 183 E, intended to discuss 
 rest and motion, but, writing the Parnienidcs muc!i later, 
 changed his mind and devoted Part I to objections to the 
 ideas, and Part II to metaphysical problems still debated. 
 *'^ Phti'dr., 261 D, rov ovv 'EXtartKov IlaAoju^STji' (Zeno?) 
 AfyovTa ovk liTufv rex*'?! wore titaifeaOai T019 aKOVOV(ri to. avra 
 6fj.oia Kat avofj-oia, Kai if Kal noWa, etc. Soph., 259, It is 
 equally foolish to deny or to take seriously the antinomies 
 (ei-ttfTitiia'cau') that arise from the communion of ideas and 
 the relativity t)f ou, ftri bv, and ddrcpof. Cf. 259 D, to 5e Tavrbv 
 tTtpov ano^aivfiv afj-jj yi jtjj .... Kai. to fiiya (TtitKpov wai to 
 OfJ.oioi> afojuoioc .... oy7€ rts eXeyxo? ouro? a\r}9iy6q, etc. 
 
 Such contradictions are nothing difiicult when one knows 
 the trick. 259 C, «tT€ «is n ^a-^f Trbi- *caTai'ei'o>j»cuis, Cf. Parmen.^ 
 159 A, KOLi ndi/ra to. it'avTia Troifli) ovksti X'*^*"''^* tupfjao/iec, and 
 Socrates's congratulations to the Sophists in the Euthyde- 
 mus on the ease with which Ctesippus picked up their 
 method (:J03E). 
 
 42'". E. g., the quibble, Parmen., 147 D ff. (of which .Alice's 
 "jam every other day " is the only English analogue), that 
 the "other" is the "same" because the word irtpov in 
 Greek idiom applies to both, and the word must refer to 
 the same essence. This is parodied by Socrates in Euthy- 
 dem., 301 B, and explained in Thccetet., 190 E, en-ttSij to p^^a 
 e'T«poi' Tip trepw Kara prjixa tuvtov iariv. The extension of this 
 
 reasoning to the afo/ioioTaToi' is deprecated as eristic in 
 
 183
 
 58 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 to that effect. It is recited by one whose light has gone out more completely than 
 that of Heraclitus's sun, and who now is devoted to horsemanship.'"' Parmenides 
 himself characterizes it as a kind of intellectual gymnastics which it would be unseemly 
 to practice in the presence of the uninitiated,*'* and explicitly terms it a -rrpayiJiaretdyBi] 
 iraiBidv.*'^ He chooses as his respondent the youngest interlocutor, on the ground that 
 he will be least likely -rroXvirpayfiovelv — that is, to interrupt the flow of plausible ratio- 
 cination by distinctions like those with which Socrates checked the stream of fallacy 
 in the Euthydemus."" 
 
 These are probabilities. The proof is that the fallacies are symmetrically 
 deduced by a systematic abuse of the ambiguity of the copula, and that Plato gives us 
 clear warning of this at each turn in the argument. The symmetry is of course not 
 perfect, and there are various minor fallacies that arise from other equivocations. An 
 analysis full enough to show this in detail would defeat its own object by wearying 
 the reader and obscuring the main design, which is not open to debate."' The 
 groups of contradictory conclusions deduced from the hypothesis that the One is and 
 that the One is not derive almost wholly from the equivocal meaning of "is" — from 
 taking "is" or "is not" to signify now the absolute uncommunicating Being or not- 
 Being which the Sojihist dismisses as impracticable, and now the relative Being and 
 not-Being, or otherness, which the Sophist establishes as the only tenable use of the 
 terms in human logic. And near the beginning of each hypothesis we are distinctly 
 warned of the sense in which "is" and "is not" must be taken. "^ This is perhaps 
 sufficient; but another way of putting it will bring out the parallelism with the SojyJiist 
 still more clearly. The eristic combated in the Suji^tist may be resumed in two fallacies: 
 (1) The noumenal unity of the idea is incompatible with any suggestion of change, rela- 
 tion, or multiplicity. The ideas will not communicate or mix. Predication is impossible. 
 You cannot say, "Man is good," but only, "Man is man" and "Good is good.""' 
 
 Phileh., 13D. The Parmen., 148 A, infers that kut' avTi, i^Ldtoslawski, p. 418, misuuderstands this, saying: 
 
 TovTo awav anaat. 6fj.oi.ov av etij. Now, it is precisely the func- *' It is only in the Pannenides that discussion (n-oAun-pa-y- 
 
 tion of deceptive rhetoric irav Tjavri o^otoOf, Phccdr., 261 E; ttovelv) is declared useless." 
 
 and it is precisely this that the Sophist, 259 D, and the «3i ggg Apelt Beitrage. 
 
 PA/icdits, 13 A, stigmatize as eristic. Similarly the antino- jt,/,\,.,-t> ■■ - . . ,o\iio/^ - f • 
 
 . u 1 J »■ ^-.nn-r. .111? .1-1? .--T? .rnr-r. ^'^ (D 1-ilD, ii tv earai. to tv; (2) 142 C, vw it oux auTT) 
 
 miesof whole and part in 137 CD, 144 E,14jE,1:)i E, ISOCD, ,,.,.. . , .. .,,..,. ,iw— /-, 
 
 .. „ „ „ . ,. „ , ,. cffTtt* »i yn-otftirts ei ci' Cf .... aAA ti ec eiTTif . . . . ; (4)1.^(0. 
 
 recall rhecp(e(., 204, 205, and A-oi)ft., 24... On rest and motion ,,. , , . ... ,,, . '. 
 
 c/. 139 B with Sopft., 250 C, 146 A, 156 E, 162 E, With 255 E; '^ ' , ,-,,-„!,'.■ < • ■ •■---,, 
 
 Theaetet., 181-3. In Theaelet., 180 D, the words ira «ai oi ■ i- .,, ■ ■ ■ . ,,., ,,.,,,, ■ 
 
 , , . . . X'^P^^ °t TaAAa TOU ecos Cd'ai; (b; luU L , OTl fT€pov Tl Acvoi TO 
 
 ffxuTOTOuoi .... TrauiTw^Toi nAioiio« oio^Efoi Ta IJ.CV faTavat, Ta .... . , . , . . . ■ , . 
 
 ,. .... u 131 . • 1 ■ ■ f n. '"' ""'' "'■'"' """ "" " '"' '"''■ "" '"H-'y o Aeyei (o/. Soph., 
 
 &e Ktvei(T0ai Ttav ovzuiv, show Plato s real opinion of these „r.^ ,-,, .,.„t^ 7 - p .. . ^, 
 
 absolute antinomies; c/. .Sopfc., 249 C D. For the negation ' ' 1? ,.,■ • 1 ^i 
 
 , ,, . . ,,. ,, J- . , ,,., , ,,!, D c. I oiori noAAiui' ouSei' iciuAusi. 1 rom this ouirios (ieT«x«'>' and then 
 
 of all intcUiBible predicates cf. 142A, 164B; Soph., 248C; , , . . , , , ,-^ ,,..j,. • i- • - 
 
 „ . ,.„"„ T , ,T ,A -1 TO eifttt ^»j c are deduced; contra ( i) 163 (_, to fie un eaTo- .... 
 
 Theit'tet., 1.x B. In general the Parmentdes exeraplines , .,, .... , ^ . ... 
 
 , , ,. ,, , ■ , . „,, c ■ J o 1 *'"' '"' " "*^° o->lpaO'«i ri ouirias oirouo-iai'; (e/. AR., Met., 
 
 what the .Sop/iiS< terms, 245 E, Tous .... fi^axpl^oAoYou^e^'ou« 
 
 , ... 1004(1, lb), 
 
 OFTOC Te ITfOL KCLi fl)i. 
 
 433 251 E, 259 E, 251 C; TAetf^e^., 201 E -202 A. The tJSii' 
 
 127128 C. ■(.lAoi, 248 A {cf. 246 B, 248 E), represent not so much a par- 
 
 iOQ.orT\ .00 TM? fri r. ,1 I I,- 1 .1 IV L ■ ticular school as a generalized tendency of thought. They 
 
 428 133 D, 136 D E. The Ku^ftj/i/emus hints that listening ,., , ■ , , „, . ■ .. r^, \- . ■ . j 
 
 . . , ,,,■■,- .„,■■., . are literal-mindod Platonists or Eleatics who introduco 
 
 to ©nstic may be a useful discipUno. luis is the ineauing . , , • n, ^ , . . r. ■. . , .■ . . i .- 
 
 ,,, . . ' ,. ,.. J . „,,i, , ,„,r,> rt into logic Plato s (and Parmenides s) poetical absolutism, 
 
 of the intervention of the fiai/ionoi', 272 E, and of SOjI), often t.i . 1 -.• ■ • i- . .■ e .. i- n m . 
 
 , , Plato s criticism is not a recantation of earlier I'lato- 
 
 misuuderstood. . c .. ■ 1 ■ o . .>,t,,^ ■ ■ 1 . .- ..i * 
 
 uism.fortlieir dogma in .'^o/'/^-.24S(_ , is precisely what I lata 
 
 «I9 137 B. himself says in Tim., 38 A ; c/. supni, p. 39. 
 
 184:
 
 Paul Shobey 59 
 
 (2) The negative "is not" denotes absolute non-existence, which is unutterable and 
 unthinkable.*'" Plato answers in substance: (1) We must admit the mixture of 
 ideas, the seeming multiplication of one idea by communion with others, as a condi- 
 tion of intelligible speech. Without it we cannot even predicate existence, identity, 
 and diversity."^ (2) Absolute not-Being is no more nor less a problem than absolute 
 Being."" The only not-Being that finds a place in intelligible speech is otherness — - 
 that which is not this, but is some other thing.'" Now, in the eight or nine"* 
 hypotheses of the Parmenides these two principles are alternately and systematically 
 violated and recognized — the consequences in each case being drawn out in exact 
 parallelism to those indicated in the Sophist. In the absolute theses the ideas are 
 taken in self-identity, in isolation, x'^P^'^-*"' The one has no parts, and the exclusion 
 of parts is found to shut out all predicates that imply multiplicity, space, time, or 
 number."" And since these are the forms in which Being appears,"' we cannot even 
 say that it is."" There is neither knowledge nor speech of it.'" In the absolute 
 negative theses /xrj 6v is taken to exclude every sense of ehai, with a similar result."* 
 In the hypotheses concerned with relative Being and not-Being the reasoning is 
 reversed. If we speak of unum and alia, we imply existence in some sense. The 
 existent one is two (unity and existence), has parts, and so by necessary implications 
 is clothed in all the predicates of space, time, and relation."^ Instead of abiding in 
 isolation, the one everywhere united with essence, ova-ia, is divided up among the 
 indefinite multiplicity of oma."'' And it is explicitly affirmed that this is true of the 
 most abstract and ideal unity that we can conceive."' Similarly, starting from the 
 assumption that /xr) 6v (or (J-rj ev) means something, and something different,"' we 
 deduce first "participation" in various predicates,'" and finally the defiant paradox of 
 the Sophist that fxr] 6v eVrt.'™ The doctrine of these relative hypotheses is that of the 
 Sophist. The reasoning of the absolute hypotheses is that of the preliminary airopiai 
 
 ^34 238 0-241 A, etc. *42141E, oiih' apa oiiTw? (imv uare ev eivat. DamasciuS 
 
 435''o'>C ''56 \B '•59 E etc ^^^^ that Plato does not negate tf of et*, but Simplicius, 
 
 Phys., 88, 32, contradicts him. 
 
 *«U2A; cf. Soph., 218 C ff. 
 
 *** 163 C, 161 B, oOrw 5»j (f OVK ov ovk e\fL jrw? ov^a/JiTi. 
 «SThe third «Vc Si, to rpcTO.- x,y,^^ev, 155 E, stands by 4«112C, it iAAo t. <,,^,a.Vo^ t6 .Vt. joi iv . . . . roioOrov 
 
 436 250DE, 25SE, 
 
 437 257 ff. 
 
 itself. It is in some sort a reconciliation of the contradic- j^ ^^ .,, „,^„.,,„^ „;„^ ^,p, ,-^,...^ etc. ; cf. Soph., 244 D ff. 
 
 tions of the first two, and, by implication, of all. ..c.r, • • - ,, «*« . 
 
 446144 B, en-i TTavTa aptt TToAAo oi'Ta rf oviTia i'ei'€/x>)Tat, etc. ; 
 
 430 137 C, 139 E, Tov Bi ye evh^ X"P'" i*"""! ''ijl' 4>il<nf to mC. irpbt in-avTi ipa. jkocttu tiZ t^c oitriot m<P" irpoo«rTi to 
 
 TauTor, 140A, 159 B, '.\p ovt- oil xvip'i^ pity to ey Tuic a^Xitiy, etc. ^y, Cf.Soph. 245, 256 D E, 258 D E. 
 
 Cf. Euthyd., 284 A, iy pi,y KiKeZyo y- iari ri^y S^to,.', 'o Aey.i ^^. ^^^ j,_ Jj ^^,,_,^ -^^ ^^ ;^ j^ ^^^^^ ;^^^^ ^^^^ ,^i „.,j ^^ 
 
 Xu,pU Ti.y iKk^y. Thea:tet..2U5C,Si6rt ai.Tb ,«»• aiTb eKa,TToy -^ ^^.^ ^^. ._,^^^ S,^,.e^epr,l^eyoy; cf. 143A. Republic, 525E, 
 
 el, iayyBeroy, Kai oMe TO elya, irtpl a^ToO ip»«,i fxoi irpo,7.*.<po.'T« however, points Out that thought must restore the abstract 
 
 eUe.y. Another form of this fallacy, ^iy inb ^avTbs x-P'^"". u^ity as fast as analysis divides it : iAA' iiy uv ..pMaTiJn? 
 
 appears in the Protagorean doctnue: Cratyl., 3S.j E, .«.. ^.^^^ .^^-^^^ ,„AAa„Aaa.oi;<T:^, eiAaPou^cvoi ^>i ^otc *a..;i to iy 
 
 aiT^^ V, ovtr.a elvai i^i„rv ; Theatct. 166 C, i««l a.<T9,<recs ^^ ,_, ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^.^^^^ y^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^j ^p^ari^o, here and in 
 
 «iaTa, iip^y y.yyoyra,. Absolutism, whether sensational or ^j^^ parmenides, cf. Soph., 258 D. 
 
 verbal and ideal, destroys rational thought, and is refuted 
 by pushing it to the extreme where this is apparent. 
 
 448 160 C, OTI erepoy Aeyei TO ^i) Of ... . to'i lapey o A<y€t. 
 
 449 161 A, 158 A, Soph., 2,55 A B. 
 
 440137C-142A. Similar results follow for tJaa* from 45ii62.\, it: ipa ovrbJco-^br .'^..^ toJ ^i Jvac to ,!►«. ^i 5p. 
 
 taking I.- x"pi5 and without parts 159 B- 160 A. p^^ ^^^ indispensable emendation of what follows, see my 
 
 441 Tim., 52 B. note in A. J. P., Vol. XII, pp. 349 ff. 
 
 185
 
 60 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 in Soj^hist, 237-46, and it is well described in Tliefetetus's language there (246 E): 
 awaTTTeTai yap erepov i^ aXXov, fiei^cc Kal ^aXeTroiTepav ^epov Trepl rwv efnrpoaOev ael 
 prjOevTcov irXavqv. 
 
 In view of these facts, it is idle to attempt to date the Parmenides and the 
 Sojjhist by their philosophical content. The substantial identity of doctrine does not, 
 of course, exclude many minor differences in the literary form and the secondary pur- 
 poses of the two dialogues. One object of the Parmenides, for example, is to illus- 
 trate exhaustively the " both and neither " of the eristic caricatured in the Eidhydemus. 
 The absolute hypotheses issue in blank negation. In order to make the "both and 
 neither" plausible, some reasoning from the absolute point of view is introduced into 
 the relative hypotheses.*^' Again, it is not easy to say how much importance Plato 
 attached to the third division of the argument in which the contradictions of the first 
 two hypotheses, and, by implication, of all the others, are resolved. Contradictory predi- 
 cates (the "both") can be true simultaneously — they belong to different times. The 
 "neither" belongs to the instantaneous moment of transition, the "sudden" which is 
 outside of time altogether.*^" It would be possible to read a plausible psychological 
 meaning into this ingenious solution of the Zenonian problem of change.*''' But it 
 cannot easily be translated into the terminology of the theory of ideas. Pure Being 
 admits of neither of the contradictory predicates, and the ideas as noumena are out- 
 side of space and time. But the "one" which is here spoken of as out of time, and 
 without predicates at the moment of transition, is apparently not the idea, but any one 
 thing which may participate in the ideas. This consideration, and the fact that the 
 e^ai<^vri'i is never mentioned again, seem to indicate that it was only a passing fancy. 
 
 Lastly, though the main object of the dialogue is the illustration of the ambi- 
 guity of the copula, and the fallacy of isolating the ideas, the one is in some passages 
 a representative of the Platonic idea, and in others of the absolute Being which 
 ontology and mysticism recognize even after its banishment from logic. This explains 
 and partly justifies the interpretations of the neo-Platonists and that of Zeller already 
 considered; but does not necessitate any serious qualification of that here proposed.*'^' 
 
 THE POLITICUS 
 
 The Politicus quotes the Sophist,*^'' and is closely related to the Timcvtis and the 
 Laws. Its style and its tone of " mixed pathos and satire""^" in the reluctant aban- 
 donment of impracticable ideals*" mark it as probably late. But there is nothing in 
 the thought to necessitate or strongly confirm this view,*'* It cannot be shown that 
 Zeller, Grote, or, more recently, Pohlman*'' are led into error in the interpretation of 
 the thought by their assumption that it precedes the Republic, and the attempts of 
 
 «ii J5. p., in 149E-ir)0tho denial of communion between <5i Supra, p. .34. «5 257A, 266 D, 284 B, 286 B. 
 
 the ideas : ou5e n fVroc ati.t.Kpov jtAtjc ovt^? (T^iKpoTTjTos. 4,'-,-, '2(33 J) 260 B C. *S7 272 C, 301, 302. 
 
 <5il56D, aAX* ij i^aittn'yi^ aiJTJj (^ilffi? arowdt Ti? fyjcodijTai <^^ For the tlieory of idoas and avdiii'Tjat^, r/. supra, 
 
 fitTa^if T^? KLVTJafoji Kal cTTatreaJV, iv j^pofo* ov&tv\ ovaa, p, 44. 
 
 453 See De riat. idcarum doc, pp. 44-6. ^'•'^ Gcschichtc dcs antikcn Komniunismus. 
 
 186
 
 Paul Suoeey 01 
 
 Lutoslawski and others to show that the doctrine must be late are either fallacious**" 
 or prove at the most that it is gcuuiinely Platonic.*'" Much of the dial()i^u(! is devoted 
 to the illustration and perfection of the method of dichotomy set forth in the Sojihisi."'^ 
 In form it is an attempt to define by this method the true statesman — to discriminate 
 him sharply from other rulers and caretakers, and in particular from the politicians, 
 sophists, rhetoricians, and generals, who usurp the name at Athens.*"' 
 
 This logical process is illustrated and its tedium relieved by a my(h*"* and liy 
 elaborate analogies from the art of weaving which also separates, purifies, and 
 re-combines.*''^ Remarks are made on the necessity of thus mingling jest with earnest, 
 and of employing concrete imagery or patterns to illustrate abstract thought.*"" The 
 charge of undue prolixity is anticipated.'" Our object is the elucidation of sound 
 method and for that no briefer treatment of the theme would suffice.*"* In general, 
 Plato tells us, the clever men who proclaim that all things are subject to number and 
 measure have neglected to observe that there are two distinct types or ideas of meas- 
 urement:*"" the purely relative mathematical measurement of one thing against 
 another,*™ and the measurement in reference to fixed, absolute standards of the suit- 
 able, the just mean or measure in every art and procedure. Long and short as terms 
 of censure applied to a philoso[)liical discussion have no meaning except in the latter 
 sense. That such absolute standards exist Plato cannot delay to prove except by a 
 summary form of argument emi)loyed in the same way to cut short discussion in the 
 Flicedo and Tiniceus.*'^ The proposition to be proved is indissolubly bound up with 
 another proposition which the opponent can hardly reject. In this case, as surely as 
 the various arts and sciences exist, so surely is the jxerpiov or absolute measure of fit- 
 ness a reality. For all arts and sciences postulate it. This simple thought has often 
 
 ^^il^SODC, aA»)0^ ho^av .... Q^iav 'iiTjfJ.i iv 5atfiOF[w ■ytyl'tcr^ai the " late " Philebtcs, 27 A, To SouAeOof ei? yiyetriy otTta. The 
 
 ve»'ei does not mean that truth, etc., is " to be seen only word in an allied sense occurs in Gorgias^ 519 B. It is pos- 
 
 in divine souls," cf. supra, p. 30. In 272 C, iTvi'ayvpij.bf sible that it did not occur to Plato's mind in writing 
 
 ii>poi'»j(rews does not mean "an ideal totality of individual Phccdo, 99 B, but more probable that he deliberately pre- 
 
 eudeavors .... transmitted from generation to genera- ferred the periphrasis which is far more impressive in the 
 
 tion." The word is used here not only for the first but for context; a\^o tiey ri eim to alnoy ti^ ovti, a\Ao 5' iKi:lvo ivsv ov 
 
 the last time. Campbell's citation of Sophist, '259 D, is to oItlov ovk ay iror elr] aWtoy. 
 
 irrelevant; cf. supra, n. 439. The use of Svvaiiit proves 462 See Campbell on 263 D. 
 
 nothing ; cf. supru., p. 49. 308 C has nothing to do with the 
 
 modern notion of building up a science by selection, <63 In 267 successive dichotomies have distinguished the 
 
 "while useless observations and notions are rejected ;" nor statesman only as the caretaker of the biped human flock. 
 
 with CratijL, 438 E. The statement, 308 E, that the royal f' remains to define his specific service to this flock, 287 B, 
 
 art puts to death, toO? ju>7 5uca/iei'ovs Koii'tuceit', is not an -.H tJ, o03 L ti. 
 
 admission of the "impossibility of proof in moral ques- 464 26911. 
 
 tions," and in any case is virtually identical with Proiao., .._„ ,l , . . .• ^, . ■ ... 
 
 ...i.^T, . . s - ,j . . J. ,,T,. 465 tor the characteristic Platonic generalization of 
 
 322I).To.^,a..aMc.o.a,6o««a.5.«„M...X"-"— . The "already" 
 
 "°?. °', "r" r'.r ^^ "'f ■■"S™«f.;'-' ^5«E' °' Cra(-/(.,388BC. C/.Phae6.,23D. 
 Sophist, 2o7 C, except as the concept or idea (liKe auy other 
 
 coucept) is ono "already" iii Rt-p., 438 CD. The question *66268D, 277 ff. <fi7283ff. 
 
 is merely: Shall our dichotomies start from the concept <ti'*o;s;5j) ogg^ 
 
 "science" or £rom some other concept as, e. £?., e/un-eipia? 
 
 Cf. Soph., 219A, with Gorg., 462B C. ^^^2H3-^. The <com^oc are apparently the Pythagoreans. 
 
 .R, m, 1 i e • \ • ■ r>i I nnr> r *'0 7rpb? aAArjAa, 284 B. The parallel with Rcp., 531 A, 
 
 <6iThe employment of a periphrasis m Phcedo, 99 B, for .... - , , , /' , u.«^/i, 
 
 ,,,,.,, 1 ■ i-v. /i . , ■ OL,, TA aAAijAois ot'ttjiifTpoui'Tts, seems to have been overlooked. 
 
 the technical term awamov used in the Polificus,2>MJ>, «- r » 
 
 287 C, 281 C E, etc., and in the Timcetis, 46 C, and nowhere *' ' 284 D, ai« apa rtyrjrdov 6ixoi<ii%, etc. PhcEdo, 77 A, ei? to 
 
 else, proves nothing. A periphrasis is used for the idea in o^oitas cIj-oi, etc. Tim., 51 D. 
 
 187
 
 62 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 been misunderstood.*'" It is implied in the doctrine of ideas,*'' in Plato's polemic 
 asrainst mere relativity,*'* and even in the remark attributed to Prodicus in Phcedrus, 
 267 B, aiiTo^ . . . . cov Bel Xoycov re^VTjv Belv Be ovre fiaKpojv ovre ^pw^^ecov, aWd 
 IxerpCfov. The fact that it is explicitly stated "for the iirst time" in the Politicus 
 proves no more than does the fact that it is never stated again. Plato happened to 
 formulate it only once, but it is clearly involved in Republic, 531 A, aW-qkoi'; 
 avafieTpovvre'i, etc. 
 
 The myth may be profitably compared with the Timceiis, Philebus, and Laws, 
 but cannot be pressed to yield developments or contradictions of doctrine. Its service 
 to the argument is merely to distinguish the mythical ideal of a shepherd of the people, 
 who plays providence to his flock, from the modern ruler who leaves other specialists 
 to feed, clothe, and house them, and confines himself to his specific task of govern- 
 ment.*" In other words, it emphasizes the demand often repeated in Plato for a 
 precise definition of the specific function and service of the royal or kingly art ; and, 
 as Zeller says, rejects with a touch of irony ideals drawn from a supposed state of 
 nature. This ruler is further discriminated, as in the Eiithydermis and Gorgias,"^ 
 from the pretenders or subordinate ministers who usurp his name, the rhetorician,*" 
 the general,"* the dicast.'™ Lastly, his special task is defined. As implied in the 
 Meiio and Eidhydemus, and stated in the Rejjuhlic, he is to teach virtue and incul- 
 cate right opinion.*'"' And that his teaching may be effective and the seed fall in good 
 ground, he is, like the rulers of the Republic and the Laws, to control marriages and 
 the propagation of the race — especially with a view to harmonizing and blending the 
 oppositions of the energetic and sedate temperaments.*" 
 
 The accompanying classification and criticism of forms of government imply no 
 change of opinion unless we assume that Plato was bound to repeat himself verbatim. 
 The classification of the Rejmblic is first the ideal state governed by philosophic wis- 
 dom, whether ^aacXeia or apiaTOKpaTia,*"' and then in progressive decadence timarchy, 
 oligarchy, democracy, tyranny. The Politicus apparently recognizes seven states: 
 one, the right state (302 C), the only Polity deserving the name (293 C), in which the 
 rulers are eiri.arrip.ove';. Six others are obtained by distinguishing the good and bad 
 forms of the three types recognized in ordinary Greek usage.***' We thus get monarchy 
 or royalty, and tyranny, aristocracy, and oligarchy, and democracy, lawful and law- 
 less.*** The difl'erences are due mainly to the necessity of presenting a continuous 
 
 *'2£;. p., by SiEBECK, Vntersuchunrjen zur Phil. d. <'930jB. 
 
 Cricrhen, pp. 92 ff., who over-emphasizes the analogies with 48U309C D. 
 
 "^ <8'30if,310. The Ke7>M()^c recognizes the control of mar- 
 
 «3Tho utrpiou ytieffi!, 284 A B, to which every artist riagc, 4fiO, and tlio importance and difficulty of rocon- 
 
 looks, is virtually the idea which he tries to realize, ciling the two temperaments. 503C. It does not happen 
 
 Corp., 503E. to bring the two ideas together. The Laws, 7"3 A B, does. 
 
 »;t Cf. irpbt i^A.)^a four times in 283, 284 with Thea-tct., «s2 44r, D. It cannot be a democracy, because ^lAdcro^c 
 
 160B, 182B, Parmen., lti4C. .... irA^Sot iSiivaTov tUm = PolH., 202 E, (»"■■ ov^ «o««i 
 
 475 274, 275. *""' Oorff; 517 B, 521 D. irA^Sos ye ev :r6Aei TaVTriv Tiji* effiaTijjuiji' Sui'aTof eli'ai KTijaatjOal, 
 
 «"304D, £u(fc2/<Icm., 289DE. C/. Gorff., 164-6, 002 E. «s.i Kep., SSS D. Pindar., i'j/Hi., II, 87. 
 
 «8 SO* E, Euthydem., 290 B. «»* PoUt., 291. 301, 302 C ff. 
 
 188
 
 Paul Shoeey 03 
 
 descending scale in the Republic. This leaves no place for a good form of democracy 
 or a good monarchy apart from the ideal kingdom. '*'* The fundamental distinction of 
 the scientific state once noted, Plato plays freely with the conventional terminology, 
 and no inferences can be drawn from his " contradictions." There are countless forms 
 of government if one cares to look beyond the conspicuous et'S?;."* In the Eepitblic 
 the good oligarchy, the aristocracy of the Politicus, is a timarchy. In the Menexenns 
 the good democracy of Athens is an aristocracy governed by kings!*" In the 
 Laws,*^ from the historical point of view, all governments are regarded as variations 
 of the two mother types, the Persian absolutism and the Athenian democracy. But 
 in respect of the ease with which reform may be etfected the tyranny ranks first, the 
 kingdom second, a certain type of democracy third, and oligarchy last.'*^ I have 
 already discussed the significance of the opposition of the two temperaments for the 
 definition of the virtues and the antinomies of the miiaor dialogues.'"" Grote strangely 
 ignores this when he affirms that these difficulties are not touched in the Politicus. 
 
 THE PHILEBUS 
 
 The PJiilebns was selected by Dionysius of Halicarnassus as a type of Plato's 
 simpler Socratic style. The majority of recent critics more 2:)lausibly see signs of 
 Plato's later manner in the poverty of the dramatic setting, and the curious elabora- 
 tion of phrasing and logical framework. The introduction presents again the objections 
 to the theory of ideas advanced in the Parmeutdes, and, like the Parmeuidcs, but 
 more explicitly, hints that these puzzles are due to the limitations of human reason."' 
 It bids us disregard them and, assuming ideas, to deal with them and our subject 
 according to the true dialectical method set forth in the Phcedriis.*'''' It does not 
 state that these metaphysical problems must be solved before we can so proceed."" It 
 merely says that we must come to such an understanding about them as will prevent 
 the puzzle of the one and many from confusing our inquiry."* We have no reason to 
 look for a solution of them in the subsequent course of the argument. None is given. 
 There was, as we have seen, none to offer."" The attempts of modern scholars to find 
 one are very ingenious."" But they are not supported by Plato's words, and they 
 proceed on the erroneous assumption that he thought it possible to give any other than 
 a poetical and mythical account of the absolute, or to say more of the noumenon than 
 
 **SThePo!iJifus does not describe the development of «2S«pra, n. 70. <93i3C, 16 A B. 
 
 one form from the other but merely states the order of 494 fy ^q jijig ^^t my criticism of Jackson, A. J. P., 
 
 preference among the lawful and lawless forms of the Vol. IX, pp. 279, 280. Even Schneider (Plat. Metaphysik, 
 
 three types. Campbell, Intr., p. xliv, overlooks all this p. 53}^ ^hose interpretation of this part of the Philelnis is 
 
 when he treats as proofs of lateness the addition of excellent, does not make it clear that the metaphysical 
 
 PaaiAfia as one of the lower forms, and the depression of problem is merely evaded by the assumption of ideas and 
 
 cMyapx^a below 6lM0«paTia. ^^^ method Kar' .IS.). 
 
 4S6iJep.,544D. 487 238 0. <S8 693D. 495 Sui^ra, p. 36. 
 
 489 710 E. The paradox, rvpari-ov^ji'iji. ,»oi Sore Tijv jroAip, 496As types of all may be cited; Schneidee, Platonische 
 
 709E, is literally incompatible with the associations of Metaphysik; SiEBECK,Untersuchungen zur Philosophieder 
 
 Tvpufvo, in the Kepuhlic. but the notion of a revolution Griechen, II; Plato's Lchre von dcr Materie; Henry 
 
 accomplished by arbitrary power is found in 501 A, 540 E. Jackson, Piuto's Later Theory of Ideas. See A. J P., 
 
 490S«pro, pp. U, 13, 15, Q. 59. i^i Supra, pp. 36,31. Vol. IX, p. 282. 
 
 189
 
 64 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 that it exists."" The elaborate apparatus of classifications and categories employed to 
 decide whether pleasure or intelligence is more nearly akin to the good is due, apart 
 from Plato's interest in dialectical exercise, to his unwillingness to treat the problem 
 of the good in isolation. His imagination and religious feeling require him to associate 
 the ethical good of man with the principles of order, harmony, measure, beauty, and 
 good in the universe. We thus get many interesting analogies with the Timanis, but 
 no solution of the problem of ideas. The direct classification and estimate of the 
 different species of pleasure and intelligence, which was all the ethical problem 
 required,"' is subordinated to a larger classification of all things which, however, 
 deepens and enriches our conception of the psychological and ontological relations of 
 the elements of merely human good and happiness.*™ 
 
 The terms of this classification are the Trejpa?, the d-Treipov, the /mktov or mixture of 
 the two, and the alria or its cause. These terms represent, for the purposes of the 
 argument, characteristic Platonic generalizations™ of the ideas naturally associated 
 with these words. Whatever else they may mean is at the most suggestion and 
 analogy. Ilejoa? is a generalization of the idea of limit — whether it be the limitation 
 of matter by form, of chaos by the principle of order and measure, of appetite by 
 reason, or of the indeterminate genus by a definite number of species and sub-species. 
 It is the idea of the Timceiis, so far as that is conceived as a principle of limit and 
 form stamped upon chaos. But it is not the Platonic idea — the hypostatization of the 
 concept — for the purposes of metaphysical theory.'^"' 
 
 The aTreipov denotes among other things (1) the indefinite multiplicity of particu- 
 lars as opposed to the unity of the idea — a conception found elsewhere in Plato. *°^ 
 Plato generalizes the term triw/xa for "matter" in 29 D. (2) Indeterminate matter as 
 opposed to the form or limit that shapes it. In this sense it may be "equated" with 
 the space, matter, or mother of all generation in the Timceus, 50 D.^°' (3) Indeterminate 
 
 *^^ Cf. Emeeson, Representative Men^ " Plato," '^ No 502 ThecEtet., 147 D, eirctSij annpoi. to ttA^Sos .... ^vWafielv 
 
 power of geuius has ever yet had the smallest success in els if implies the method of Fliilcb., 15, 16. Cf, Rep., .525Aj 
 
 explaining existence. The perfect enigma remains. But Polit., 262D; So2)h., 256E; Parmen., 158C. Schneideb, 
 
 there is an injustice in assuming this ambition for Plato." p. 4, n. 1, notes this meaning, but still insists that the 
 
 «8Tho net result of the introduction is (19 B) elSri amipoi' of the Philehus primarily means indeterminate 
 
 yap HOI SoKfi I'ui' fpcuTov ijior^j w»s 5»'«po''15, etc. matter, which he rightly shows is not = jii) ov, p. 5 {cf. 
 
 4'J9 23C ff supra, n. 201), but wrongly denies to be virtually identical 
 
 rr.^^ r>i . 1- ' T^ *i J nnt nnn 'i with space. See SiEBECK, p. 84. The Timants docs not 
 
 5'»So Plato generalizes (inxii, £«»ij/d., 271, 272: K>?A.)o-c! »' ' '' 
 
 (,i.Mv rex.",), ibid., 289E; e,p..T«^, ibid., 290B; Laws, explicitly identify matter and space merely because 
 
 823B; Polit., 299D; Rep., 373B; Soph, 221, 222; nMou^^ia, >t <oes not distinctly separate the wo ideas. t,ee A. J. P 
 
 T f.n,. r. * t. iu.T' n rjnii A . <!ji-> ■., V ol. IX, p. 416. But whcthor WB Call it matter or spaco. ths 
 
 Lavts, 90tiC, cf. Symp., IXbC, Gorg., 508.4; /ti^iijAeio, . .. , • ^i. .i t .• ■ 
 
 I- n... T. ■ f •m-n - .1 ; ; •>«- n „„.i x""?". the iroi-Sexes, the mother of generation IS one. 
 
 Laws, 910 1); woiTjffts, .Symp., 20dB; tptu^, ibid., 20jD. and a r , a . 
 
 passim; yincai'!, Polit., 2G1 B, etc. ; 5iaKpiTi«^, Soph., 226C; 503 Siebeck compares it as the antithesis of the idea to 
 
 Tii6avovpyiKri, ibid., 222 C ; KoAoxcc'a, Gorg., 463 B if. ; the the ti.ri bv, the eVcpoi' of the Sophist, the matter or space of 
 
 comparative degree, TO f^iAAoi- rt Kai ^ittov, Philcb.,Zl\ and the Timceus, the principle of necessity or evil, and the 
 
 many minor examples, Polit., 279, 280, 289. H-^ya «ai /ii/cpoi-. More precisely (p. 89), the o'lreipoi- is the 
 
 f*'" SCHNEIIJER, p. 1.^3, and .Siebeck, p. 73, make it a mediating link between the OaTepoi- of the Sophi.'it and the 
 
 mediating principle between the idea and phenomena. x^P" of the Timwus. Now these terms undoubtedly have 
 
 But Plato never speaks of the "idea," but only of the ideas this in common, that they are variously opposed to the 
 
 or the idea of something. Uipaq is itself an idea and is the ideas, but Plato employs thoni in different connections and 
 
 cause of limit, in any given case, precisely as the idea of we cannot equate them. Sikbeck argues (pp. .5811.) that 
 
 whiteness is the cause of white, or the idea of dog the the absolute hi oy abandoned in the Sophist (2riS E) must 
 
 cause of a doe- mean something. Uo Huds it in the ab.solute hypothesis of 
 
 190
 
 Paul Shorey 05 
 
 physical and chemical "process," as opposed to ideally or mathematically defined 
 "states.'""* (4) The insatiate, limitless character of undisciplined desire and appetite — 
 a conception which we have met in the Gor(ji(is.''"' 
 
 The iMKTov is the mixture or union of •7repa<: and a-Kupov in any or all of these 
 senses giving rise to various yevecrei^, both in the world of matter and in souls.'^'" As 
 the union of matter and form it may be "equated" with the "oft'spring" of the idea 
 and the "mother" in the Timoius.^"^ As the mixed life of pleasure and intelligence it 
 obviously may not.*' 
 
 AItm is the principle of cause in general, and in particular the cause of the due 
 mixture of pleasure and intelligence in the happy life."" In the one sense it may be 
 identified with the Demiurgus who embodies the principle of cause in the Timceus.'"^" 
 The ultimate cause is conceived by Plato as beneficial intelligence which is virtually 
 synonymous with the good. He intentionally confounds the good in human life with 
 the good in the universe. It is possible, then, to say that God, or the good, or 
 beneficent intelligence is the cause alike of the cosmos or ordered world and of the 
 well ordered life.*" We may identify the supreme mind (toO?) with the Demiurgus of 
 the Timanis and the Idea of Good in the Republic. We may conceive the ideas as 
 thoughts of God, identify God with the sum of his thoughts {yor^aa j/OT/o-ew?) and so 
 bring the ideas under the principle of ahia as not only formal but efficient causes.^'" 
 But in all this we are mechanically "equating" the terminology and imagery — the 
 literary machinery, so to speak, of three distinct lines of thought in three different 
 dialogues, for the sake of attributing to Plato a rigid and ingenious metaphysical 
 system wholly foreign to his spirit. 
 
 We have already discussed the psychology and the main ethical argument of the 
 
 the Parmenfdes as the antithesis of the fv regarded as the ment and measure are spoken of in connection with the 
 
 symbol of the principle of the ideas. From this it is an ideas, and movement and measure imply space! 
 
 easy step to identifying it with matter which is also the 5ii4p;jj7f),.^ 2iB, 25C, 26A. 
 
 antithesis of the idea. But it is not true that the absolute 505 27 E, 31 A, Gorg., 492-4, supra p. 24. 
 
 ,.;, 5.. must mean something. Plato's rejection of it in the 506 27 0, 2.-)e', 26B, «»l iylvx<^:/ai wdfi^c\\a, v.bicb alone 
 
 Sophist is sincere, and is confirmed by the Parmcudes refutes the equation, iTr.ipoi- = matter. 
 
 which makes it unspeakable and unthinkable. The abso- aoTTnTi 
 
 lute oi-, as we have seen, was reinstated for religious and r orr.. * . i. , ■ . . , 
 
 , . , i, - I, ui u ,.* -^'-^There is a slight equivocation m the assumption 
 
 metaphysical purposes, as it is by many philosophers of ,,.„^, .. , , .,„,-, , . j • . ..- 
 
 rriL I, i- f f ■ ™ (•-' i>) that the mixed life of pleasure ana intelligence 
 
 every ago. There was no such motive for forcing a mean- il i , , . , -, . 
 
 ,, i, 1 i. - - -1 i.1 • t i-a t.- t -i. belongs to the ju.iKToi' of irepas and ajTctpof. 
 
 mg upon the absolute mi ov, and the identification of it ^ '^ '^ ^ 
 
 with matter is, as we have seen, quite impossible. {Supra, -"^' -'*-^' "■*^- 
 
 Q^ 261.) 5'" In SOD the ^afjiAnciji' tlivxw, ctc.,= the soul of the 
 
 SiEBECK then proceeds to associate the logical aireLpov world, and the alrU^ Suia^n'^ the Demiurgus. 
 and the Sdrepov with space and to attribute to Plato an s^' Cf. Idea of Good, pp. 188, 189, n. 2. 
 
 " intelligible " as well as a phenomenal space by pressing 512 Schneider identifies God not with the Idea of Good, 
 
 all passages in which the logical relations of concepts are but with the ideas. The ideas, he argues, must be real and 
 
 expressed in spatial terms (p. 90). As the human mind they must be thoughts. They are, therefore, thoughts of 
 
 naturally thinks logical determinations in spatial im- God. We have already considered this theory, sujjra, p. 38. 
 
 agery, he has no difficulty in finding such passages. But It is for the modern systematic philosopher the most 
 
 plainly the method is vicious. We cannot infer an Intel- plausible escape from the difficulty of positing two dis- 
 
 ligible ""space" or the 'dentity of Odrfpov and space tinct no-umc7ia, God and the Ideas. Perhaps Plato would 
 
 because the ideas are spoken of as "living apart," or have accepted it, if it had been presented to him. Unlike 
 
 "included" in a larger idea, or because the method of the majority of its advocates, Schneider does not misin- 
 
 dichotomy proceeds to the right and leaves on the left the terpret particular passages in order to support it. He 
 
 other of the particular idea pursued. Still less can we merely combines and equates lines of thought which Plato 
 
 infer it from the vorjTos ronos, or from the fact that move- left unfinished and distinct. 
 
 191
 
 66 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 Philebus, and seen that neither contradicts or appreciably modifies the doctrine of the 
 earlier dialogues.^'' There remains only the question whether the demonstration of 
 the unreality of pleasure presupposes, or, as Zeller still maintains, is presupposed by, 
 the shorter proof of the Repuhlic. Believing that the Philebus is probably late, I am 
 logically committed to the first branch of the alternative. But this opinion is entirely 
 compatible with the view that the differences between the two treatments of the theme 
 are not in themselves sufficient to show which must be the earlier. It is impossible 
 to determine a priori whether the slighter treatment is an anticipation or a r6sum6 of 
 the fuller discussion. The main doctrine was always a part of Plato's thought, as 
 appears from the Gorgias, the Phcvdo, and the Pha'driis.'"" The differences between 
 the Republic and the Philebus have been much exaggerated. The abbreviation of 
 the argument in the Republic is sufficiently explained by the subordinate place which 
 it occupies in the scheme of the entire work. It affords no proof of the date, and no 
 presumption even of a change of doctrine.^"* 
 
 THE THE^TETUS 
 
 The date of the Thcaictus has been much debated on external grounds."^ Its 
 wealth of thought and dramatic vivacity of style make it one of the most difficult 
 dialogues to classify. In psychological depth and dialectical acuteness it ranks with 
 the Sophist, Philebus, and Parmenides, many of the thoiights of which it anticipates 
 or suggests.'" But it has nothing of their dogmatic finality of manner. Socrates is 
 still the midwife delivering ingenuous youth of opinions which fail to stand the test 
 of the elenchus. And the conclusion is an avowal of Socratic ignorance.^'^ 
 
 Before losing oiirselves in details we must recall why this is so. There are two 
 reasons: (1) The formal quest for an absolute definition always fails in Plato. '^''' (2) 
 It is not possible to define knowledge or explain error. We can only describe and 
 classify different stages of cognition and various forms of error. All seemingly intel- 
 ligible explanation rests on material images, like Plato's figure of the wax tablets and 
 the aviary. But these analogies either commit lis to sheer materialism and the flowing 
 philosophy, or they explain nothing. No spatial image can represent the synthetic 
 
 513 Supra, pp. 24, 43, 45 ff. that tho Republic is not yet acquaintcc] with the thought 
 
 •'^^ Supra p 24 that tho neutral state implies not absolute quiet iu the 
 
 51^ See Zeller, p. 548. The question whether pleasure 
 or ^p6vTi<n^ is tho good {Rep., 505 B) need not be a specific 
 reference to the I'hUchus. It is virtually raised in the 
 
 body, but slight motions which do not cross the threshold 
 of consciousness. But the thought is implied in Rep. Cf. 
 supra^ n. 328. 
 
 Prntaynrus and Gorgias. Zeller's table of agreements be- "6 See Zellee, p. 406, n. 1 ; Campbell's Introduction ; 
 
 tween the Rep. and Phileh. merely proves the unity of Lutoslawski, p. 385. It is on the whole more probable 
 
 Plato's thought. Rep., .584 D - 585 A - E, .586A-C, which he that tho battle in which Theffitctus was wounded belongs 
 
 cites, present, at the most, different imagery. The thoughts to tho Corinthian war, 394-387, than to the year 368. 
 
 are in the VhilehUH. That the Philehua does not refer spe- 517 (^v supj-a, pp. 3.3, 34, 55, un. 179, 182, 389. 
 
 cifically to the Idea of Good is no stranger than is tho fact onoi? o n 
 
 that no othc!r dialogue does. On the other hand LuTOS- ""^'^^ "- 1»1 ^B, 209 E, -IOC. 
 
 LAWSKl's objection (p. 470,1 that the dlUicnlly, AVp., M5 It, sisf/. supra, p. 13, p. 16, n. 8(1. JowETT says. Vol. V, 
 
 that theKought-for<fip6f/)(Ti^ is<tpoi'r)<Tt? TOW ay«0oi) isdisjiosed p. 119: " We cannot suppose that Plato thought a deflni- 
 
 of by our observation that the reference, if reference there tinn of knowledge to be impossible." But it is impossible, 
 
 must be, is to the Charmidcn, supra, u. 61. Jackson argues and that for the very reasons suggested by Plato. 
 
 192
 
 Paul Shorey 67 
 
 unity of consciousness and momory. None can explain the comparison of past and 
 present impressions in an un(!xtend(Hl focal point of consciousness. None can repre- 
 sent except in the vaguest poetic figure"" a psychical mechanism that now operates 
 correctly, yielding right opinion, and now incorrectly, resulting in error."' On the 
 other hand, if we invoke the absolute unity of mind behind our imagined mechanism, 
 we are merely moving in a circle. We reaffirm our faith in the immaterial soul, but 
 we can offer no intelligible explanation of degrees in cognition or of the [)8ychological 
 process of error.^^'' 
 
 The quest for a definition, then, fails, as Plato expected it to do. But the analysis 
 is carried far enough (1) to refute to Plato's satisfaction all psychologies of pure mate- 
 rialism or relativism f'^ (2) to justify a purely logical and practical treatment of the 
 fXT] ov, i/reuS^? Bo^a, and similar fallacies in the Sophist.'"'* This and the immense 
 wealth of psychological suggestion scattered by the way are the chief positive results 
 of the dialogue.™ 
 
 It has been repeatedly analyzed in detail. ^^^ As in the Gorgiuii and PhilebusJ'" 
 much of the argument is purely dramatic, directed only against the cruder forms of 
 the theory combated.™ The ingenious attempts to reconstriict the doctrines of con- 
 temporary thinkers from Plato's polemic are more apt to confuse our understanding of 
 Plato than to add to our knowledge of Protagoras, Aristippus, or Antisthenes.'^^'' As 
 Professor Campbell says: "Whoever the contennwraries were to whom Plato refers as 
 the disciples of Protagoras, he aims beyond them at the whole relative side of Greek 
 thought of which Heraclitus was the most prominent exponent." 
 
 The identification of the dvdpQ)7ro<: fierpov, the TroVra pet, and the definition that 
 knowledge is sensible perception, is a part of Plato's literary machinery which we 
 unist accept untroul)led by nice historic scruples. The avOpunvK fierpov is not a 
 scientific or philosophic principle, but a rhetorical paradox or truism embodying a 
 
 520 Cf. Thii., 37 AB, with Thecetet., I'M B. 52< Cf. supra, p. X. 
 
 521 Zellee, p. r/.K), tliiiiks that the section on ^ivSi,-: U(a jjsQjj jj^. relation to the theory of ideas cf. supra, p. 33. 
 is an indirect refutation of the definition that knowledge ,, ^ ^ «. „ , ^ 
 
 ■ •! a- ft tl *>, * n ^n- u f • l„l„:. ™ 526 By BONITZ, NaTOKP, CAMPBELL, JoWETT.GeOTE, etc. 
 
 IS aA7j9i7s 605a. He says that the diiiiculty of explaining ^ ' ' , . . 
 
 false opinion arises only from the assumption that knowl- ^'^'^ Supra, n. 137. 
 edge is " right opinion." That is not so, either absolutely 
 
 or in Plato. The ultimate difficulty is : if the mind a^-pre- ^ ^'^'^Supra, n. 7. Note especially the tone of 163-6. 
 
 hemis as a psychic unit, how is mis-apprehension, as dis- '"here avowedly enstic arguments are employed against 
 
 tinguished from non-apprehension, possible ? Bonitz is the literal identification of .^crr^^i and ac^«w«. Observe 
 
 undoubtedly right in affirming that the question for Plato "^e Persiflage of 156, 157, 167 A, 179,180. Natorp, Phik,l.,\o\. 
 
 is not so much the fact or possibility of error as the psycho- ^- P' -^^- ''""''^ '"^ ^^'^ ^ ^ '""'"''y «' Ant.sthenes s attack 
 
 logical explanation. (Pp. 83, 89. Cf. my paper, De Pla- 0° Protagoras, 166-8C being Protagoras s defense. Any allu- 
 
 lonis idcarum doctrina, pp. 17-19.) The length of the ^'0° '» ''"^'-'•^ '"•''>' ^^ 1° a sense a parody of Antlsthenes 
 
 " digression " is justified by the interest attached to the "^ <>' ""y °^^" ^"''"'^ contemporary. Protagoras himself is 
 
 problem of ^tvSr,, Sola and the psychological analysis that represented as employing the fti o^ quibble, 167 A. Cf. 
 
 it provokes. It is a " digression " and a negative result ««^™' °- ^°^' '»"<^ Eulhydtvi., 2S6 C. 
 
 only for those who naively a-^sume that Plato himself ex- 529 See Natorp's acute Forschungen zur Geschichte des 
 
 pected to reach a positive definition. Erkenntnissiiroblems im Alterlhum, and his "Protagoras 
 
 122 181 CD, 200 AB. und sein Doppelgftnger," Fhilolagus, Vol. L, pp. 262 If. 
 
 523.Su/ira, p.. 34, n. 283. Cf. Thecetet., IM C S. Uptol83C Natorp's analyses retain their value, even if we doubt 
 
 the identity of eViiTT^jii) and alaSijo-n is refuted only so far the possibility of reconstructing Protagoras. For Antis- 
 
 as it depends on extreme Protagoreau relativity or Hera- thenes and the Thea^tetus see the phantastic conjectures of 
 
 clitcauism, which makes all thought aud speech impossible. Joel, Der echte und der jrenophontische Sukrutes,\ol.Il, 
 
 KaToi yi Trjc Toij JToiTa Kiy*ia9at i^iOoSov, I'p. 839 II. 
 
 193
 
 68 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 practical tendency of the age repugnant to Plato's taste and feeling. This seems to 
 be overlooked in the controversy between Natorp [PhiloJogiis, 50) and Gomperz, as to 
 the meaning of the formula. Plato, as Natorp shows, explicitly affirms the thought to 
 be: things are to (each and every) man as they appear to him. If sugar tastes bitter 
 to the sick man, it is bitter to him — there is no other test. But there is no evidence 
 and no probability that Protagoras had systematically drawn out the consequences of 
 generalizing this proposition in its application to ethical and logical truths. He did 
 not need to ask himself whether he meant by dvdpun70<i this, that and the other 
 man, or human cognitive faculties in general. He took ovra, as he found it in Greek 
 idiom, without distinguishing things, qualities, and truths — though his simplest 
 examples would naturally be qualities. By &)? he presumably meant "that," but 
 "that" and "how" are closely associated in Greek idiom and are often confounded in 
 popular not to say in Platonic usage. If he used ^alverai and ^avracria he probably did 
 not distinguish the "it seems to me" of actual sensation from the "it seems to me" of 
 any opinion,^*' and Plato avails himself of the ambiguity for the half serious TrepirpoTrr) 
 that since Protagoras's "truth" does not seem true to the majority, it is admitted by 
 Protagoras himself to be oftener false than true.'^' 
 
 Hdvra pel Plato himself accepts for the phenomenal world."^ As a metaphysical 
 dogma it is tantamount to materialism in that all materialists are more or less con- 
 sciously Heracliteans, though all Heracliteans need not be materialists.'^^ As a neo- 
 Heraclitean paradox it is the negation of the ideas, of the universal, of rational logic 
 and speech.^" As a rhetorical formula it is the symbol of the restless spirit of innova- 
 tion which Plato detested.^^^ Before generalizing and restating for serious refutation 
 what he conceives to be the common psj'chological presuppositions of these catchwords, 
 Plato covers them with persiflage and assails them with arguments which he admits to 
 be rhetorical and eristic. There is no probability that the representatives of these 
 doctrines could have explained their meaning or defended themselves as well as Plato 
 has done it for them. So far as we know, he is the first thinker who was capable of 
 distinguishing, dividing, classifying, and generalizing ideas, of noting the affinities 
 and differences of philosophic doctrines, and of translating them freely into different 
 terminologies. All other early thinkers, like the majority of thinkers always, are tlie 
 prisoners of their formulas and can only abound in their own sense. Plato, as 
 Emerson says, "needs no barbaric war paint, for he can define and divide," and he 
 delights to prick with the keen point of his dialectic the bubbles of imagery, rhetoric, 
 and antithesis blown by his predecessors. Heraclitus means well when he says that 
 the one is imited by disunion,™ or that the hands at once draw and repel the bow.'" 
 But the epigram vanishes under logical analysis. The pre-Socratics discourse, in a 
 
 'M Cf. tupra. p. 48. 63* Cratyl, 439, 440 ; Tliextet., 179, 180 ; Soph., 249 D. 
 
 "1 no, 171. C/. Euthyd., 286C, «a"i ToiJt " o'AAovs iiarpiTrwf !,M, Pateb, PUiIo ami riiitoiiisni, iip. 16-20. 
 
 Kai auroc avTov. 
 
 '12 Cratyl., 439 D ; Sjmp., 207 D; Tima-m, passim. 
 "STAca-iet., I55E, 156A. 
 
 194 
 
 ■'•mSj/mp., 187 A. 
 
 '•'^ Rep., 4:i9Il. The saying is Heracliteau in tone.
 
 Paul Shorey 69 
 
 fine imaged style, about Being, but a plain man can not be sure of their meaning.'" 
 Absolute fornnilas, like Travra pel, -rrav ev, ttcivtu)!/ fierpov civOpcoTro';, linve an imposing 
 sound, but if we press for their interpretation, prove to be either truisms or paradoxes, 
 destructive of intelligible speech.™ 
 
 It is an ingenious sport to construct for Protagoras some subtle and nicely 
 guarded modern system of phenomenalism. But v/v must then pass over the purely 
 dramatic parts of Plato's discussion, and limit ourselves to his final and seriously meant 
 arguments against the psychology of materialism and the logic of relativism. There 
 are two such arguments which neither Plato nor his critics are careful to distinguish 
 sharply: (1) The first is that the senses are organs of mind and that sense pei-ception 
 itself implies the "soul" or some central "synthetic unity.''"'" This, if fully under- 
 stood, is conclusive against the sensationist materialism of Condillac's statue. But 
 Plato's chief interest is in the second argument derived from this. (2j The objects 
 of each sense we can perceive only through the specific organ of that sense."' But 
 the general common categories of Being, not-Being, number, likeness, difference, the 
 same, and the other, ^" as also ethical universals, and the abstract definitions of sensuous 
 qualities "^ are apprehended without subsidiary organs solely through the action of the 
 mind, and its reflections on the contradictions of sense. Availing himself of the 
 double meaning of ouai'a (1) logical essence, (2) reality, trutli, Plato argues, as in the 
 Phcedo,^** that truth and reality are attained only by the "pure" thought of the soul 
 acting independently of the body. 
 
 A modem Thesetetus, of course, might deny that abstract thought has no bodily 
 organ, or that its objects are more "real" than the perceptions of sense. But the 
 absolute identification of aicrOijai'; and eTna-Trjfit] is sufficiently refuted, and the suggest- 
 iveness of this definition having been exhausted, a fresh start is made with the 
 definition "knowledge is true opinion." But this implies that we understand erroneous 
 opinion, and error proves to be inexplicable. The attempt to explain it calls forth 
 many interesting analogies and distinctions."^ One large class of errors is accounted 
 for as arising from the wrong reference of present sensations to stored up memory 
 images."' The distinction between latent or potential and actual knowledge postpones 
 the final difficulty.^" But in the end it must be faced: error as a matter of fact occurs 
 in "pure" thought. How can pure thought misapprehend its object? A bodiless 
 intelligence either touches or does not touch the object of thought. We can understand 
 
 538 5opA., 242, 243. nerves, but Empedocles '^ already '* remarked of the senses, 
 
 539Cratj/i., 439,440; Theatet.. 183AB, 179DE: Soph., ov SivaaBani i^Ari>.u,v xpiyfu-, Theophr. sens..', Dox. 'jOO. 
 S-ISCD. 542 1S5CD. 5«i86AB. C/. supm, DD. 221 and222. 
 
 5.oi84D,S«..6.Y»P''ov,iwa:,e;„oXWTi.«;^.w.V,i<r^.p 5« TAeojte*., 187 A; Ptodo,65C. 
 
 U€ay, €lT, ^pvx^y elre i. T^^l KaXtly, nd^ra jadra. ^vvr,iy,i, etc. ^^^ C/. Swpra, p, 55; n. 520 with text. 
 
 Oil 185 AC. LuTOSLAWSKi, pp. 276, 372, fancies that this . 546193,194. The memory image is treated as knowledge, 
 
 is an anticipation of the modoru "law of specific energies *'oei'ai. 
 
 of the senses,'* "already" glanced at in Rep.^ 352E, but 54:197. This is the distinction invoked in Eu^/ij/d., 277, 
 
 showing progress in the formulation here. The modern 278, to meet the eristic fallacy of the alternative tiStvat. ^ 
 
 law could not be anticipated without knowledge of the ^tj tiiei-ai. 
 
 195
 
 70 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 the confusion of one object with another, the misplacement of cognitions, only in 
 terms of spatial imagery which, if accepted literally, is materialism again, and if taken 
 as a symbol implies the synthetic unity of mind behind it, and so renews the puzzle in 
 infinite regress. ^*^ Modern metaphysicians evade the difficulty by assuming an infinite 
 thought of which our erring thought is a part. Their task then is to preserve the 
 individuality of a consciousness that is part of another mind. This problem disappears 
 in a mist of theistic language enveloping pantheistic doctrine. Plato does not soar to 
 these heights, but having carried the psychological analysis to the limit, he disposes 
 of the equation, i-Tria-Tijfj.r] = \0709 aXT]9i]<;, by pointing out a sharp practical distinction 
 between knowledge and right opinion. True opinions may be imparted by persuasion 
 and hearsay about things which we can know only if we have seen them.*" 
 
 The third and final suggestion is that knowledge is right opinion coupled with 
 Xo'70?.^'^'' This is for practical purposes substantially Plato's own view.''" Tran- 
 scendentally knowledge is the apprehension of the idea. In human life it is the 
 dialectician's reasoned mastery of his opinions implying stability, consistency, and the 
 power to render exact account of beliefs. Plato reserves the terms knowledge, 
 intelligence, pure reason, for the man who co-ordinates his opinions, unifies them by 
 systematic reference to higher principles, ideals, and "ideas," and who can defend 
 them in fair argument against all comers.*'^ This is not a definition, but it is quite as 
 good a description as the most modern of his critics can ])roduce. This view is set 
 forth in the Republic in the context necessary to make it intelligible. It would not 
 have suited Plato's design to repeat or anticipate that description in the Thecetetus 
 which is cast in the form of a dialogue of search. Moreover, it is one thing to give a 
 general definition of knowledge and another thing to describe the state of mind to 
 which the term science or knowledge kut e^o)^r)v is applicable. Sensible perception 
 is not a synonym or definition of knowledge, nor, according to Plato, knowledge in the 
 highest sense. But it is the most certain and the only knowledge we possess of some 
 kinds of objects. And the recognition of this fact in various passages of the Thcceictus 
 would in itself make a satisfactory all-inclusive definition of knowledge impossible.'*' 
 
 Accordingly Plato brings the dialogue to a plausible conclusion by discussing 
 (and rejecting) various possible meanings of Xo'709, none of which yields a good defini- 
 
 ^'S200AB. The original an-opia arose from the unme- «x«"' Aoyof SoOi-at is opposed to en-iarij/^jj. In ethics fixed, 
 
 diated antithesis eiSei-at Jj ^h eiSefat — a conscious fallacy, stable, truo opinion is virtually a synonym of <^poc»jo-L? : 
 
 as the language of lliS A and iTu^/iJ/r/., 277, 278, shows. Psy- Lavs,GhS.\. 'itpoi-ijatv 5e ital oA^fJci? &6^ai ^e^aiov?. Strictly 
 
 chology is enriched, and the practical fallacy is disposed speaking, there are three grades: (1) casual right opinion ; 
 
 of.bythodisliuctionofgradesandkindsof cognition, butin (2) right opinion fixed by judicious education from youth; 
 
 the end our analysis brings us to an indivisible act of (3) right opinion fixed and confirmed by the higher educa- 
 
 psychic apprehension which either is or is not. tion and accompanied by the ability SoCvai Aoyoi'. But Plato 
 
 i*'*201 B; Grote trinraphs in the admission that sense- is not careful to distinguish the last two. They are both 
 
 perception is, after all, sometimes knowledge; cf. KUfira, fxdi-i^ot (iVem>, 08A ; A'e/*., t.'IOB, readingMot'^Mo*'). lal'oUt.^ 
 
 u. 3i4. aolIC, aATyfli) &t'>^at' nfTa 3e/3anotretij? cannot be referred exclu- 
 
 &00201CD. sively to the phiU)sophic virtue with Zkller (i>. .596). It 
 
 Ml The Timaus (51 D) sharply distinguishes loDt and i"clu<lfs the virtues of fixed habit guiiled from above, as 
 
 iXrieil': i6ia, hut luhls TO ^iy i,\ ,j.,ri\rieoi^ \6yov, TO Si iAoyoi'. appears, c. (/., from the reservation lii yt eV itoAit.io, ,'i09E, 
 
 In the Mow, 98 A, right opinions became knowledge when which is precisely eiiiiivah-nt to 7roAcTc«ip yt in Kep., 430 E. 
 
 boaad alrioi ^oyiaiiif. la Stfmi>., 202 A, op9o6ofa<eii' — ai'euToi) wi'Supcu, p. 17; n. 91 with text. 653Supra, n. 549. 
 
 196
 
 Paul Hhorey 71 
 
 tion."* Socrates has liennl a theory that the first elements of things are simple and 
 not objects of knowledge. For knowledge implies giving and taking an account, and 
 no account can be given of elements beyond naming them. They will not admit any 
 other predicate."^ In this paragraph we may discover allusions to Antisthenes's paradox 
 about predication and definition, to current philosophies of materialism, and to 
 mechanical interi)retations of Plato's own formula Bovvai re teal Be^aaOai, \dyop. But 
 whatever Plato's secondary literary intentions, his main ])urp(jse is to present a 
 serious psychological and metaphysical problem. Is the whole the sum of its parts 
 except in mathematics V Can the world be explained as a mechanical summation of 
 elements? The problem presents itself to us in psychology and cosmogony.^'''' Plato 
 treats it in dialectical abstraction, taking the syllable and its letters ("elements," 
 (TToixela) as representatives of elements and compounds. He decides (1) that the 
 syllable is not the mere equivalent of its elements, but a new emergent form and dis- 
 tinct idea ; (2) that, whether this be so or not, the elements and the syllable are equally 
 knowable and unknowable. For if the syllable is the sum of the elements it cannot 
 be known if they are not. And if it is a new iinity it is as elemental as they and can- 
 not be explained by resolution into its parts. 
 
 The second conclusion disposes of the proposed definition. The first, as we have 
 already seen, is a suggestion of the doctrine of ideas as against philosophies of 
 mechanical materialism.™ But we are not therefore justified in making this episode 
 the chief purpose of the dialogue. Two other possible meanings of Xo'70? are shown to 
 yield no result, and the dialogue closes with the Socratic moral that we are at least 
 wiser for knowing that we do not know. 
 
 THE PH^DRUS 
 
 The Phcpdriis, with its profusion of ideas, its rich technical and poetical vocabu- 
 lary, and its singular coincidences with the Laws"'^ and Tiitui'us,^"'' makes the impres- 
 sion of a mature work. This impression is confirmed by Spracli-Statistik, and by the 
 fact that it directly parodies a sentence of Isocrates's Pmiegyricus published in 380.'" 
 It is possible to say that the thoughts are merely sketched in a "program" of future 
 work; that the dithyrambic vocabulary is due to the theme; and that the phrase of 
 Isocrates is taken from an older, common source.'^" Anything may be said in debate. 
 
 5J*LCTOSLAW9Ki (p. 371) argues that the Theatetus re- 555 202. 
 
 jectiDg Aiyos, etc., contradicts the opinion "provisionally" aifi E. g., WuNDT's psychology differs from that of the 
 
 received in Jl/eiio, 98 A, S.«mp., 202A, and P/u«/o,96B. He pure associationists chiefly in that he insists that the whole 
 
 fails to note (1) that this "provisional" view recurs in the i^ not the sum of its parts- iAV i( eVta-^r i„ n y^Yo"" ''io, 
 
 Timaus, (2) that Pftreiio, 96B, is an ironical summary of ;{j„^ ^^.-^^ ^i^-„ ^^^.^o ;^„^^ TheaMus, 203E. 
 materialism and is irrelevant here, (3) that the omission of 557 '?«nra nu 2'*7 2*^8 with text 
 
 atria which surprises him (p. 378) is presumably intentional i=oo,-t^ '..*"'," 
 
 .... ', , J. ,. T>1 i J i. ■ ,. li 55S24;jD, apx>| Kll-ipueuil, etc. 
 
 and minimizes the contradiction. Plato does not intend to 
 
 "define" knowledge, but he is careful not to contradict the ''" I" *« ^'S''" °^ ^^^ '"i"'^- 
 
 practical description of it given in the Republic. The 560 267 A, ri re .5 (r^i«pi ^.viAa «ai Ti^tyiAa <rMi«(>a .... 
 
 phrase Soiyai le Kai Sefao-fla. Aoyoi. is mentioned as a conditio «""'" •" <ipx»«"5, etc. Isoc. Pan., 8, «a. ri „ ^iyi\a r.^.n-i 
 
 sine qua nOH of knowledge (202C),but only in connection "oiiitrai «■>; toJi ixi^poU fieve'o? trep.etuai, «al ra t, n-aAaid 
 
 with the rejected theory of elements, and its full dialecti- """-is 6ieA9eiV, etc. 
 
 cal significance is not developed. 56i Gompehz, Ueber neuere Plato-Forschung. 
 
 197
 
 72 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 But there is an end to all use of Isocratean parallels if we cannot infer that the Phcedrus 
 is later than a work which it explicitly panjdies. 
 
 If we assume Lysias, who died in 378, to be still living, the date may be still 
 more precisely determined to about the year 37!l. The strongest confirmation of this 
 date is the weakness of the arguments for an earlier date, which it is hard to take 
 seriously. The politician who recently called Lysias a Xoyo<ypd^o<; need not have been 
 Archiuos, and, if he was, Plato's use of evayx^o'; may be merely dramatic.^''" The 
 patronizing commendation of Socrates at the end^^^ is not incompatible with a sly 
 parody of his Gorgian style, nor even with the sharp rap on the knuckles administered 
 to him (if it is Isocrates) at the close of the Eufhi/douus. Still less can we say that 
 Plato and Isocrates could never have been friends after the declaration at the close of 
 the tract against the Sophists that virtue cannot be taught, or, for that matter, after 
 any other polemical innuendo in their works. Huxley, Matthew Arnold, Frederick 
 Harrison, Herbert Spencer, and other knights of nineteenth-century polemics, com- 
 bined much sharper thrusts than these with the interchange of courteous or slightly 
 ironical compliments. 
 
 Our chief concern, however, is with arguments drawn from the thought. We 
 have already seen that the dialectical method of the Pluvdrus is not appreciably less 
 mature than that of the P]tiIcbi(S or the Sophist,''''^ and that, on the other hand, there 
 is nothing in the psychology or ethics of the Phcrdnis that necessarily fixes its rela- 
 tion to the PcjHihlic, the Pluvdo, or the Si/mposium.''^'' What can be said, then, of 
 the attempts of distinguished scholars to show that the thought of the Phcfdrus dates it 
 circa 392, or even ten years earlier ? The only one that calls for serious consideration 
 is Natorp's argument"^^* that the immaturity of the Pha'drns is proved by the absence 
 of the notion of a supreme science, or of ultimate categories found in the Sijmjiosiiim, 
 Pepublic, Sophist, and even in the Eidlnjdciinis. The answer is that such a notion 
 never a[)pears in Plato except in some special form adapted to a particular argument. 
 Natorp includes very different things under this rubric. The supreme science of the 
 SijDijwsium is merely the knowledge of the idea — of the idea of beauty as distin- 
 guished from particular beauties. That of the Repuhlic is knowledge of the idea — 
 of the idea of good as the aK0Tr6<; or aim of true statesmaiiship. That of the Eidhyde- 
 miis is in one place by implication dialectic (21tOC), in another the "political art" 
 (291 C). In other passages the unity of science is merely the iinity of the concept or 
 idea, eVio-T?;/^?;.''''' The ontological categories of the Thavtctus, Sophit<f, and Parmeni- 
 des belong to a different line of thought and have a mainly logical significance. They 
 are connected with the notion of a universal science only in so far as they are appre- 
 hended and discriminated by dialectic. Now the subject of the Phcedrus did not call 
 for the explicit assumption either of supreme categorii'S or a universal science. The 
 chief i)oiut in the myth, ignored by Naturp and the majority of commentators, is that 
 
 662257C. 6»»5upra, n. 377. '•'•^Supra, pp. 19, «; n. 152. 
 
 6r>3 279A, Tout Aoyovt oU ruy €rrix"p«r may well be the 5™ Hermus, Vol. XXXV, pp. 400 il. 
 
 Paneuyricus, but rait;lit be unythint?. ^''" Supra, u. 400. 
 
 198
 
 Paul Shobey 73 
 
 the ecstasy of love is due to a speciality of the idea of beauty. Unlike other ideas, it 
 is represented in this world by a not wholly inadequate copy, the sight of which recalls 
 the beatific vision of the original.''' The proof of immortality requires only the 
 categories of the self-moved and that moved by another.^" The absence of other 
 abstract logical categories proves no more here than it docs in the Laws. The method 
 of dialectic is described in its relation to rhetoric, which is regarded as an art of 
 deceptive dialectic or almost eristic."" There is no occasion for going back to ultimate 
 categories or hypothesis beyond hypothesis. The subject about which it is desired to 
 effect persuasion is the starting-point."' The rhetorician's art is to bring this under 
 a definition or category from which there is a plaiisible transition to praise or blame."^ 
 So even in the Philebus the account of the true dialectical method starts from the 
 concrete a-n-eipov to be investigated, or the idea, the ev, that it reveals to inspection, and 
 says nothing there of ontological categories, ultimate hypothesis, or a supreme science.''' 
 The Philebus is not for that reason less mature than the PhcrdoJ'^' Plato cannot 
 always delay to tabulate ultimate categories or to reaffirm the unity of science, whether 
 it be (1) as dialectic, (2) as the vision of the idea, or (8) as the "political art." 
 
 Natorp's other arguments merely confirm our main position by illustrating once 
 more, and typically, the desperate straits to which an acute scholar is reduced in the 
 attempt to date the dialogues by their thought. For example, there is obviously no 
 connection between the remark that those who affirm that (ftpovTiaf; is the chief good 
 are unable to define what (fypovijai'; {^Rpp., 505 B), and the enthusiastic declaration that 
 if wisdom (c^/joVt^o-i?) could be seen l)y mortal eyes (as beauty in some measure can) it 
 would enkindle Seivoix; .... epwTm (PJia'dr., 250 D). Yet Natorp regards the first 
 passage as a distinct criticism of and advance upon the latter. But the Phcedrus pas- 
 sage merely says that <f)p6vr]a-c<;, if we could only see it, would be still more lovable 
 than beauty. It does not affirm it to be the chief of goods, and, if it did, need not 
 for that reason precede the Hcpiihlic, imless we are to say the same of Laws, G31 C."^ 
 
 Again, in 24:5 C the unctuous phrase Beivol'; /xev a7rtaTo<i, (Toj)oh he TnaTrj is said to 
 mark Plato's early, unscientific mood, because mature Platonism ranks knowledge 
 above ■jriari';. But plainly a religious thinker may affirm the superiority of knowledge 
 to belief and yet indulge himself in the ironical declaration that the "clever" will 
 disbelieve, but the wise believe, his proof of immortality. Similarly in 247 C the 
 statement that no poet has ever worthily sung the region above the heavens is taken 
 to prove that the passage is Plato's first exposition of the theory of ideas. But such 
 
 568230BCD. sm-iljC. in common with thn five categories of the Sophist, the 
 
 ,-„^„. -.^ • 1 „ , . . „. ,T^ T,i , • ■ 1- J i supreme science of the Symposium, or the uirdLiri! of the 
 
 5TO261D w thSopAiitf, 2.ilD. Rhetoric is generahzerl to „' , j .. t. ,,■ 
 
 ■ 1 J J- , 1- J ■\- ■ L ■ c. I • 4 .»>.. no, < Phwdo and ihe RcpuhUc. 
 include dialectic and eristic, just as lu Sophist, S^.1, m, 7ri#«- 
 
 vovn^Kn embraces all forms of rhetoric, the higgling of the *"= Fhaidr., 250 D, seems destined to misinterpretation, 
 
 market, the Lucianic art of the parasite, and the whole Lutoslawski, p. 339, misses the meaning altogether, and 
 
 teaching and eristic of the Sophists. HoEN, pp. 212, 213, actually takes JtiroOs e>T« (understand- 
 
 ing Seu'ous in a bad sense) as Plato's reason why we have no 
 
 5T12G3DE. 5;2265,266A. 57316CDE. vi„id images of other ideas than beauty, and objects that 
 
 J>7*The division of all things into irepa?, aircipo^, ^ocTof, the passionate love of justice would be a good, since it 
 
 and airia is given in a different connection, and has nothing would not be exposed to sensual excess 1 
 
 199
 
 74 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 a prelude is a mere commonplace of rhetoric, as in Phcedo, 108 C ; Meno, 239 C ; 
 Polit., 2G9 C. 
 
 The argument that dialectic is first introduced as a new term in 266 C will not 
 bear scrutiny. In Philebus, 53 E, eveKo, tov is introduced still more circumstantially. 
 The ideas are a dream in CralyL, 489 C; dialectic is dramatically led up to in Craiijh, 
 390; and in SopJiisf, 265, 266, an elaborate explanation has to be given of what is taken 
 foi granted in the phrase (pavTaa/xaTa 6ela, Rep., 532 C.'™ Natorp says "der Begriff 
 Dialektik ist im Gorgias noch nicht gepragt, sondern erst im Phcedrus." But 
 8ia\ey€(T6ai is contrasted with pr^ToptKr] in the Gorgias, 448 D, and the term haXeKri- 
 k6<;-7], if I may trust my memory and Ast, does not happen to occur in the Sumposiiim, 
 Thecetetus, Timceiis, Parmenides, Phcedo, Philebus, or Laws. It is begging the 
 question, then, to assume that BiaXeyeaOai in the Gorgias does not connote true Pla- 
 tonic BiaXeKTiK-q, but only Socratic conversation. There is not a word about "damo- 
 nischeu 8(a'Xe«:T0?" in Symp., 202 E, 203 A, and the notion of philosophy as the seeking 
 rather than the attainment of knowledge occurs not only in Sympi., 203 D- 204 B, 
 "after" the PhcE<lriis, biit in Lysis, 218 A. As for Xojav Tex^rj, it is any "art of 
 words," whether actual or ideal rhetoric, dialectic, or even eristic.^'' It is uncritical to 
 press the various meanings which different contexts lend to such a general expression. 
 Rhetoric is called the 'Koywv re^vri in 260 D, but Socrates immediately adds that there 
 is no true Xeyetv Te-)(in^ avev tov aXi)6eia'; T](j)6ar, i. c, without dialectic. There is, then, 
 no inconsistency between this and the use of t?)? irepl tou? Xoyovi Te'xi'V'! in Phcedo, 
 90 B ; nor can it be said that the Xoyeov /ie'^oSo? of Sophist, 227 A, differs appreciably 
 from the imSoBo^; of Phcedr., 270 D.™ Lastly, Natorp's argument (pp. 408-10) that 
 the method of awayayr] and Biaipecxi'; described in the Phcedrus does not go far 
 beyond the suggestions of the Gorgias and Meno is, of course, merely a further con- 
 firmation of our main thesis. But when he adds that IBea is used vaguely in 237 D, 
 238 A, 246 A, 253 B, etc., and not, as in the "later" Republic and Phcedo, in the 
 strict sense of Platonic idea, the reply must be that this vague, untechnical use of 
 eI8o? and IBea is always possible in Plato.^™ Omitting Thecetetus, 184 D, since Natorp 
 thinks that also "early," we find it in Rep., 507 E; Philebus, 64 E, and Crcdylus, 
 418 E, where ayadoii IBea does not mean "idea of good." Since the transcendental idea 
 is established for the Pho'drus, of what possible significance is the occasional use of 
 the word IBea in a less technical sense ? 
 
 These illustrations might be multiplied indefinitely. They do not establish a 
 universal negative, but they certainly create a presumption against all arguments of 
 the type which careful scrutiny always shows to be fallacious. And the experience of 
 the untrustworthinesa of many such arguments ci-eates in the minds of sober philolo- 
 gians a more justifiable "misology" than that which Plato deprecates in the Phcedo. 
 
 ^"''See Adam, atl loc. *'**(/. supra, u. 377. 
 
 <-'''' Kuthi/il., 288 A, ifjiiripa^ T.^i'is .... o^Tuai <avfiarri|c o'l See JowETT AND Campbell, Vol. II, pp. 294 B. 
 
 OVfTJ}^ etc axpifinav Auyw>', 
 
 200
 
 Paul Shobey 75 
 
 THE CRATYLUS 
 
 In vivacity and comic verve the Cratijlus is "early," ''"" in maturity and subtlety 
 of thought " late." Its most obvious feature, the playful allegorical use of etymol- 
 ogizing, is anticipated or recalled in many other dialogues.'''" Admirable is the art 
 with which etymologies recognized to be little better than puns are made the vehicle 
 of a true philosophy of language, and a profound discussion of the relations of lan- 
 guage and thought. 
 
 With this we are not concerned. We have already seen that the attempt to 
 assign the dialogue an early place in the development of Plato's own thought breaks 
 down.'"*'' Plato is "already" in full possession of the theory of ideas and of the essen- 
 tial arguments of his polemic against the flowing philosophers.**' His repudiation of 
 eristic fallacies is as distinct and as clearly, if not as fully, expressed as it is in the 
 Euthydemus and Sophist.^^* 
 
 It remains merely to enumerate, as a part of our cumulative argument, some of 
 the minor resemblances that link the Cratylus to its predecessors or successors, and 
 make it a sort of abbreviated repertory of Platonic thoughts and classifications. In 
 386 D there is a reference to the doctrine of Euthydemus: iraai •Kama 6fj,oico<; etvai 
 afia Kul aei. In 386 D, ■7rpd^ei<! are an e28o? twv ovtcov; cf. Tliccetef., 155 E. In 387 B 
 Xe'yeiv is irpdrreiv, cf. Euthyd., 284 C. In 388 C ovofia dpa hihacr koXikov n ea-riv opyavov 
 Kal SiaKpiTiKov T?)? oixrla'i, coupled with the statement, 390 B C, that only the dialec- 
 tician can use this tool, im[)lies the imagery and doctrine of Sophist, 220-31 B, where 
 the Kddap(Ti<; of dialectic and Sophistic is a branch of BiaKpiTiKii^;. In 390 B the state- 
 ment that the user is the best judge recalls Euthyd., 289 D; Eep., GOl D, and is implied 
 in Pha'dr., 274 E. In 390 C epunav koI airoKpCveadaL eTnardfievov may be compared 
 with Phcedo, 75 D. In 390 D the dialectician, as iTn(jTdTi]<;, suggests Euthyd., 290 C; 
 Rep., 528 B. In 392 C the view of the capacity of women is that of Rep., 455 D. 
 With 394 D cf. Rep., 415 B, on the probability that good men will breed true. With 
 396 C, opSxra rd dvco, cf. Re})., 509 D. In 398 A-C the image of the golden race, and 
 the identification of good men with daemons recall Repmh., 415 A and 540 C. In 
 898 E the rhetorician is akin to the dialectician {ipwr-qriKoi €peo<;. cf. Synqj.), which 
 makes against Sidgwiek's view that in the earlier dialogues the Sojyhist is a rheto- 
 rician, in the later an eristic. In 399 C man is distinguished from the brute by con- 
 ceptual thought, as in Phcedr., 249 B. In 400 B the conceit aStfjia arjfia repeats 
 Gorgias, 493 A. In 401 B fi€T€o)po\6yoi kqI dSoXeax^'' ''''^f'? is precisely in the tone 
 of Phccdr., 270 A., dhokeaj^^ia'; Kal fj.erecopoXo'yia'; ^ucreo)? Trepi. In 401 C ovaia 'EaTia 
 recalls Phcedr., 247 A. In 403, 404 characteristic doctrines of the Phcedo, Gorrjias, 
 and Symp. are implied concerning the naked soul, the invisible world, death, iiriOvfiia 
 as Se(7/io'9, and the yearning of the soul for pure knowledge. Cf. Gorg., 523 C; Phcedo, 
 83 C D, 67 E-68 A. In 408 C the association of Xo'yos dXrjd^<; re koi yjrevSi]!; with the 
 
 5S0NATORP, however, Arekiv, Vol. XII, p. 163, thinks ^si Supra. pp. U, 56.51, n. 313. 
 
 the lack of dramatic viise en settle a mark of lateness. 583 Supra, p. 33, n. 218, n. 539. 
 
 "81 See Jowett's Index, s. v. " Ktymology." '•^'Supra, p. 54. 
 
 201
 
 76 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 movements of the All recalls Tim., 37 B C. The quibble rjl^epa, rjf^epa, 418 D, is 
 repeated in Tim., 45 B. In 418 E ayadov ISea to Se'ov is explained by Rej)., 330 D. 
 In 419 C Xuttt; utto t^? StaXutrea)? implies the doctrine of Fhilcb., 31 D, and Tim., 64 D. 
 In 422 A aroixela is used for elements, as in Tim., 56 B ; Thecetet, 201 E. In 423 C D 
 music is "already" fj.inrjai';. In 428 C the i^aira-TacrOai axnov v(f>^ axnov is virtually the 
 "voluntary lie" of Rep., 382 A. In 436 D the emjjhasis laid on the apx^ or hypothesis 
 {vTTo/ceiTai.) recalls Phcedo, 101 D, 107 B. 
 
 THE EUTHYDEMUS 
 
 The Euthy dentil s in subtlety of logical analysis, and in its attitude toward eristic, 
 is akin to the Sojiliist and Thecetetus.^'^ The question, Can virtue be taught? the pro- 
 treptic discourses, and the quest for the political art resume similar discussions in the 
 Meiio, Protagoras, Cliarmides, and Gorgias.^'^^ To the partisans of development the 
 dialogue offers a dilemma. Either this mature logic must be assigned to an early 
 work, or a late work may display comic verve of style and engage in a purely dramatic, 
 apparently unsuccessful, Socratic search for the political art/" 
 
 A systematic analysis would be superfluous after Bonitz, Grote, and Jowett. But 
 the Euthydemus, like the Cratylus, is a repertory of Platonic thoughts that link it to 
 "earlier" and "later" dialogues. A few of these may be enumerated: 273 C, avrov 
 avTU) j3o7fddv iv tok BiKaa-Tjjpioi';; cf. Gorg., 509 B; 275 D, the captious question, Are 
 those who learn ol ao<pol f, ol afia6el<;? merely illustrates the doctrine of Lysis, 218 A; 
 Symp., 203 E; Sop)li., 229 C, 276 D ff. ; do they learn a iirCaTavrai fj a firj, recalls the 
 method kuto, to et'SeVai ^ fj.rj eiSevai of the Tlica'tciiis.^^^ and the distinction between 
 eTnaTr}fiTi<i e^t? and KT7]a-i<;; cf. 211 C and 278 A with Tlicirtct., 197 B; in 276 E dipvKTa 
 is used as in Thecetet., 165 B; 278 B Trpoa-Traii^nv is used for eristic, as -jrai^eiv in 
 Tliccvtet., 167 E ; 280 E, to Se ovre Kaicov oxne ayadov; cf. Lysis, 216 D; Gorg., 
 467 E ; 282 B, oySez/ atV^^pw .... SovXevetv .... epacny .... TrpoOvfiov/ievov aoipov 
 r^eveaOai, cf. Symp., 184 C; 284 B, Xe^^uv is irpdrTeiv, cf. Cratyl, 387 B; 287 A, if 
 there is no error, nVo? Sihda-icaXoi I'l/cere, cf. Thecvtei., 161 E, 178 E ; 287 D, Trorepov ovv 
 ■i}ruxvf e)(ovTa voel rd voovvra. The quibble suggests the metaphysical problem of 
 Parmcn., 132 D, cf. A. J. P., Vol. XXII, p. 161; 289 C, the art of the user and the 
 art of the maker, (/. Bep., 601 D, Cratyl., 390 B, 290 A, cf Gorg., 454; 290 CD, cf 
 Polit., 305 A, and supra, p. 62; 290C, the mathematician siibordinated to the 
 dialectician, cf. Rep., 528 B; 291 B, wairep rd vaiBi'a tu tow? Kopvhov; BiuiKovra, etc., is 
 the germ of the image of the aviary in the Thcrietiis; 291 C, cf Polit., 259 D; 292 D, 
 cf Charm., 167 C, Meno, 100 A, Protag., 312 D; 301 A, cf siqn-a, n. 199; 301 B, 
 cf supra, u. 426. 
 
 ^K>Supra, pp. 54, 58. verbroitet ist. Man sollte doch in ErwflRon ziohon, oh 
 
 ^fi^Cf. Idea of Good, p. 204; supra, n. 97. donn jcuo Rube mul Sicliprhoit. dir Di,-.cussioii cirjiT FraRO 
 
 M'292; c/.Hupm, ii. "1. Bonitz, p. 125, protests against "'^ Frawo fUr j(^mand nintilich ist, filr di-u sic cben uur 
 
 the assumption that Plato is really balTlpd in ■.".li E, and "'"■•' Problem ist uud eino MOglichkoit dor LOsnng sich 
 
 sensibly adds: " Ich erwilline dies unr, wcil dicso Art diT "''•'''• dargoboton hat," 
 
 Folgerung und dor Erklaruug Platonischer Dialogo weit i>«sS«pra, nn. .517, .548. 
 
 202
 
 Paul Shobey 77 
 
 The significance o£ the closing conversation with Crito is often missed."' Nothing, 
 of course, c,in be inferred from the casnal admission (807 A) that %/37?/iaT<crTtft:^ and 
 prjTopiKr) are ayaOov; or from th(! ''contradiction" of the licjiiihlic in tlie statement that 
 philosoi)hy and TroXiriKr) Trpa^K; are both ayaOov, but Trpo^ aX\o eKarepa. Socrates is 
 speaking to his worthy friend the business man Crito from the point of view of common- 
 sense. We have also seen that the allusion to Isocrates (?) does not determine tin; 
 date."'" Plato is defending himself and Socrates against the criticism that such trivial 
 eristic is unworthy of the attention of a man of sense. The dignified rhetorician to 
 whom the criticism is attributed, like Isocrates, confounds eristic with philosophy and 
 proclaims the futility of both.''" Plato replies (1) that in philosophy as in other 
 pursuits the majority are bad; (2) even eristic may be a useful logical discipline. 
 The second thought is implied rather than expressed. It is implied by the interven- 
 tion of the Saifj.oviou (272 E) and by the statement that the gentlemen who in 
 Prodicus's phrase''''- hold the borderland of philosophy and politics, and who think the 
 philosophers their only rivals for the first place, are badly mauled in private conversa- 
 tion when they fall into the hands of eristics like Euthydemus.^''^ Socrates, on the other 
 hand, though ironically admitting defeat, has shown himself throughout able to do 
 what is postulated of the true dialectician in the Sojihisf, 251) C: to« \eyofj.evoi<; olov re 
 elvai Kad' enaa-rov iXeyxovTa eva/coXovdelv.'''^* The multitude think such logical exercise 
 unbecoming. But that is because, in the words of the Paniicniih's (1.3GD), ayvoovai 
 . . . . OTi avev rauTT?? t>)9 8ia iravTaiv Sie^oSov re Koi TrXdvr}<; ahvvaTOv eVri/p^oWa tw aXrjOel 
 vovv exeiv- But Socrates, regardless of personal dignity, welcomes every occasion for 
 intellectual exercise: oiira) t(9 e/oco? Seivo'i evBeSvKe t/")? Trepl ravra yvp,vaaLa<i {Theadet. 
 101) C). 
 
 PROTAGORAS, GORGIAS, MENO, SYMPOSIUM, PH^DO, AND REPUBLIC 
 
 The leading ideas of these dialogues have already been studied, and it is not 
 necessary to analyze them in detail. '^''^ We may acquiesce in the presumption that the 
 Protagoras, Gorgias, and Meno are somewhat earlier in manner and style ^'* without 
 
 sssGrote, e. fir., says: " In the epilogue Euthydemus is Adam (edition of Eepuhlic, indi-x, s. v. "Isocrates'"). Ob- 
 
 cited as the representative of true dialectic and philoso- viously, barely conceivable references in Plato to an Iso- 
 
 phy." cratean type of thought or a Gorgian style prove nothing. 
 
 590 5upra, p. 72. ^*^^ ^^^ anything be inferred from coincidence in common- 
 
 .„,„.. , , , ,T,. J J T^ ., J , . places or in ideas that can be found in Euripides and 
 
 5913(bA, Kat ouTot (Dionysodorus and Euthydemus) e** m j-j t* iiu ^ n „ l ^i ... 
 
 . . ' Thucydides. It would be easy to 'prove' by these methods 
 
 "^ that the Busiris follows the Eepuhhc and precedes the 
 
 592See Joel, Der echte und der xennphontische Sokra- Symposium which contradicts it {cf. Busiris, 4, with Symp., 
 
 to. Vol. II, p. 6.34. 198 D). Strangely enough, the very critics who force a 
 
 593 30rjD, iv Si Totj !6;on Adyo« hrav i>roAei,(.9i,r.... Cf. reference to the Helena upon Rejjublic, .5S6C, are apt to 
 
 rfcece<e/.,mB, STiiri6iaA(ivo^«e,,«oD>a.T5Kai6<^w«<». The ■■oject, in the interest of their chronology, the two almost 
 
 rhetorician is helpless in the hands of either the philoso- certain citatious of Isocrates by Plato, that in Phcedr., 
 
 pher or the eristic. ^"^ ^ {mpra, p. 71), and that in Gorgias, 46.3 A, where Isoc. 
 
 ,„. „, „_ ,„„ ,„. „ T J K. <ro.J.. 17 «ar ^i/X^S i^SpiK^t Ka'i SoJatTTirtiit epyoi' e'""" is wittily 
 
 59* C/. supra, nn. 117, 426. 59aSeeIndex. „„.,j,-„.i i, r - >;■ - ■ -V • t,, , 
 
 parodied by ^f/vx^i oe <TToxao"Tt\-7j9 Kai at/Speta^. Ddmmler 
 
 ■'■w.SuDHAns, Rhein. Mus., 44, p. 52, tries to assign the calls this a "nicht einmal wOrtliche Uobereinstimmung in 
 
 Gorrjias to the year 376 between the To Nikoldes and the einem banalen Gemoinplatz." But the very point of the 
 
 Nikokles. He is refuted by DOmmlee, Kleiite Schriflen, I, jest lies in the substitution of the lower word, (TToxao-riK^s, 
 
 pp. 79 ff.. who proposes other Isocratean parallels, which for the term 5ofairTt«^« intentionally employed by Isocrates 
 
 are courteously, but sensibly, minimized or rejected by to mark the superiority of his io^a to the pretended 
 
 203
 
 78 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 admitting that there is any traceable development of doctrine."' There is also, as 
 we have seen, no evidence in the thoiight sufficient to date the Si/mjiosium and 
 Pha'do relatively to each other or to the Republic, the Plicvdrus, and the Tlica'tetiisJ'^' 
 Pfleiderer thinks the Symposhim the first dialogue of Plato's "third phase," which 
 includes the Philebns, Timcriis, Critias, and Laws. He sees in Symp., 209-12, a 
 review of Plato's previous career, with many allusions to the different "phases" 
 of the Republic (p. 46). So also Diimmler, infra, n. 619. It suffices for our pttr- 
 pose that all these dialogues were written after Plato had attained maturity of years, 
 and presumably of thought — the Meno after 395, ^'^ the Gorgias after Isocrates's 
 Against the Sophists, the Symposium after the year SSS,**" the Phcedrus probably after 
 Isocrates's Panegyricus. That the Phredo cites the Meno is probable.'"' That the 
 Republic alludes to the Phmdo is possible, but not necessary;'"^ and, having other 
 reasons for believing the Phcvdrns to be later than the Gorgias, we may assume that 
 Pho'drus, 260 D, 261 A, alludes to Gorgias, 462 B, without, however, admitting the 
 validity of such arguments as Siebeck's suggestion (p. 116) that Opefifiara yevvaia 
 intentionally characterizes the \6yoi as "etwas Herangepflegtes, Ausgearbeitetes." 
 
 But it is idle to pursue this aKiafxa'x^ia further. 
 
 The chief witness to the unity of Plato's thought is the Republic, the great work 
 of his maturity and the most complete synthesis of his teaching. It is presumably 
 later than most of the minor Socratic dialogues,™ but it completes rather than contra- 
 dicts them, and their methods imply its results.^"* It is earlier than the Laws and 
 Timceus, and probably than all or most of the dialectical dialogues, but they do not 
 contradict it, and they develop no important idea which it does not distinctly suggest."" 
 
 It is generally dated somewhere between 380 and 370, and we may say, if we 
 please, that it was published when Plato was about fifty-five years of age, but any date 
 between his fortieth and sixtieth year will serve as well."* 
 
 eTTLffT^/iT) of tho metaphysicians. On the other hand, though of the Pha^iio. But Pfleiderer (p. 92) finds that "das 
 
 the P/tff;fir. is in point of fact probably later, nothing can be Allegro des .SyHipos/o7t .... auf die schwermfltigernsten 
 
 inferred from its agreement with Isocrates {Phcedr., 269 D; Trauerklftnge des vorhergehenden Sterbedialogs nunmehr 
 
 Isoc. in Sophist, 17) in the commonplace that imarrnir], die verklarten Harmonien einer wiedergefundenen Lebens- 
 
 ixeXiTT) and <f>u(7is are indispensable to the complete rhetor. stimmung folgen Iftsst." It's a poor argument that will not 
 
 They are requisites of the ixafby iytoi'iaTij? in any pursuit, work both ways I 
 
 as is distinctly statt'd in i?ep., 374 D E. Nor is anything to 59ss„;„-a, pp. 19, 40 ff., 43. 59990A. 
 
 be learned by pressing too closely the various possible 6^i"193A. It is, of course, just conceivable that, as WlL- 
 
 meanings of eTTicrT^^Tj — knowledge of the Isocratean rules amowitz aflfirms (Her»ies, Vol. XXXII, p. 10:i), the allusion 
 
 of rhetoric, knowledge of dialectic and psychology that is to the events of the year 418. But we are still waiting 
 
 might make rhetoric an art in Plato's opinion, knowledge for his proof that Plato commits no intentional anachron- 
 
 of the subject-matter of the discourse. isms. 
 
 mtZeller says, p. 527, that the Protagoras, which ed 73 A ; il/eno, 82 ff . It is not necessary, for Plato prob- 
 
 assumes the identity of the good and the pleasurable, "•'•y 0""° illustrated 6.viiJ.vriaii by geometrical cross- 
 
 "must" be later than Gorg., 495 ff., and all subsequent examination in the school. 
 
 dialogues. But cf. supra, p. 20. Horn finds in Protag., 6»2 Kep., 611 B, oi iAAoi (WyoO need not be the specific 
 
 (.■org., and Plimdo the following Denkfortschritt; (1) Die proofs of immortality given in the Pfta'.fo. 
 
 Lust ist das Guto. (2) Die Lust ist nicht das Guto. (3) Die w"Siebeck, however (p. 1211), thinks that the Laches is 
 
 Lust ist das BOso ! In Pha:dr., Symp., Phtrdo ho sees a the fuller discussion of courage " promised " in Rep., 430C, 
 
 falling away in middle life from the youthful faith in av9tt Sc irepi avToD, eii/ ^o^;An """•''^'o'' ^'Ve"". 
 
 immortality to which age returns! Lutoslawski thinks «"* C/. supra, pp. 14, 15. 
 
 that the discussion about the identity of the tragic and ^''Supra, nn. 244, 375, pp. 34, 36, 42, 46, 55, 62. 
 
 comic poet at the end of the Si/mposium is an apology for G'^i^See Zeller (pp. 551 ff.), who dates it in 375, The 
 
 the comic touches in that dialogue and an announcement coincidences between the liepuhlic and the Kcclesiazousae 
 
 201
 
 Paul Shorey 79 
 
 The relations already indicated between the Republic and other dialogues force 
 extreme partisans of "development" to break it up into distinct sections which they 
 assign to different periods/*"' Such hypotheses are beyond tho scope of serious criti- 
 cism, which in the total absence of evidence can neither affirm nor deny them. It can 
 only point out the fallacy of the reasoning by which they are siipported. Tho "argu- 
 ments" of Krohn, Pfleiderer, and their followers have been refuted in more than suffi- 
 cient detail by Hirmer, Campbell/""* Grrimmelt, and other defenders of the unity of the 
 Republic. They may be reduced, broadly speaking, to a pctitio principii and a few 
 typical fallacies. The petiiio jirincipn is the assumption that the numerous connect- 
 ing links and cross-references that bind together the "parts" of the Republic wore 
 inserted by Plato as an afterthought. The chief and fundamental fallacy is the appli- 
 cation to a great and complex literary masterpiece of canons of consistency and unity 
 drawn from the inner conscioiisness of professional philologians. The architectural 
 unity of the Republic is superior to that of the Laws, the Fhilebus, the Flupxlrus, or 
 to that of the parts into which the disintegrators resolve it, many of which plainly 
 could not exist by themselves. Secondary intentions, a prelude, digressions, and a 
 peroration, posthide, afterpiece, or appendix may be expected in so long a work. As 
 Jowett sensibly says:"'"' "We may as well speak of many designs as one; nor need any- 
 thing be excluded from the plan of a great work to which the mind is naturally led by 
 the association of ideas and which does not interfere with the general purpose." It is 
 uncritical, then, to assume a central argument and prune off everything that is not 
 indispensable to its development. The argument might conceivably have started from 
 the restatement of the problem by Glaucon and Adeimantus at the beginning of the 
 second book. Plato might have drawn up a sketch of a reformed state, omitting all 
 mention of the higher education, the rule of the philosophers, and the degenerate 
 forms of government. He might have closed the work abruptly with the demonstra- 
 tion of the main thesis at the end of the ninth book. Or, if he wished to add the 
 myth, he might have omitted or found another place for the digression in which the 
 banishment of the poets is justified on deeper grounds. But these bare possibilities 
 do not raise the slightest presumption that the Republic was, in fact, pieced together 
 out of detached and disjointed essays. The different topics were closely associated in 
 Plato's thought. And if they were all present to his mind from the beginning, it 
 
 of Aristophanes yield at the most a terminus post queyn. the picture of the tyrant (577) "must "fall after the first 
 
 Cf. HiRMEB, "Entstehung und Komp. d. Plat. Rep.," Jaftr- Sicilian journey and before the second when Plato was on 
 
 bucher fUr Phil., Suppl., N. F., Vol. XXIII, p. 655; Adam, friendly terms with Dionysius tho younger; (3) because 
 
 TfteEepMhiJco/Pioio.Vol.I, pp.345-55. Hiemee (pp. 66011.) Chkist has "proved" that the eleventh epistle icirca 364) 
 
 disposes of the attempt to date the Republic by the allu- is genuine, and the eleventh epistle implies the completion 
 
 sion to Ismenias (3.36A), and to Polydamas (338C),bythe of the iJepttfciic and the beginning of the TiiHaTM. 
 supposed allusion to Eudoxus (5.30), and by Reinhakdt's 607Pfleideeee, Zur iSswno d.plri*. Frape, p.79: "Das 
 
 reference of 410 BC to Isocrates's Antidosis, 181, and of Zusammenwerfen ganz verschiedener Phasen in der Rep., 
 
 498 DE to the Areopagiticus. He himself, with as Uttle ^.j^ ^^^ behaupte, mussto nothwendig fflr Jeden, der sonst 
 
 proof, thinks that 49XDE alludes to the Eiiagoras. He gg^^g Phasen und Perioden gesehen hatte, die geahnten 
 
 dates the completion of the Republic circa 370: (1) because, QrenzJinien wieder verwischen." 
 after Christ, he believes that the protest against interne- 
 cine war between Greeks (471 A-C) "must" refer to the ^» Republic, Vol. II, essay III. 
 destruction of Plateea by the Thebans in 374; (2) because 609 Vol. Ill, p. vii. 
 
 205
 
 80 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 would not be easy to suggest a more natural and effective order of presentation than 
 that in which we now read them. 
 
 To prove, then, that, as a matter of fact, the "parts" of the RepuhJic were com- 
 posed at different times recourse is had to two other fallacies : (1) it is assumed that 
 what is not explicitly mentioned in any part is not known to the author at the time ; and 
 (2) slight variations in phrasing are taken to imply serious differences of doctrine. 
 The application of this method to the theory of ideas and to Plato's psychology has 
 already been considered."'" A few words may be added here on the second point. 
 Rohde*'" says that the immortality of the soul is ignored in the earliest part, II-V, 
 471 C; first appears as a paradox in X, 608 D; and is assumed iu its sublimest form 
 in YI, VII. But his arguments will not bear scrutiny. "Was nach dem Tode kom- 
 men moge, sollen die <^uXa/ce? nicht beachten" (III, cap. iff.), is an unwarranted 
 inference from Plato's polemic against Homeric verses that represent death as terrible 
 to all men, even the good — an idea which Plato would always have repudiated. The 
 sneers iu 363 C D and 366 A B at future rewards are directed against low ideals — the 
 fieOtjv alwvLov — or are intended to emphasize the necessity of first proving that virtue 
 is desirable for its owu sake. When that is done, it is »;S(; av€7ri(f>6opov (612 B) to add 
 the rewards ; and there is no more inconsistency in reintroducing in a nobler form the 
 premiums which the gods bestow upon virtue after death than there is in the with- 
 drawal of the supposition that the just man is to be reputed unjust, and in the affirma- 
 tion that in fact honesty is the best policy, though that is not the sole or the chief 
 reason for practicing it."^ 
 
 The omission of all reference to immortality in the first nine books would prove 
 nothing. It is equally ignored in the first nine books of the Lairs, and is first 
 explicitly mentioned in XII, 959. Glaucon"s dramatic surprise at Socrates's confident 
 assertion of immortality proves nothing for Plato. The idea is familiar to the Gorgias 
 and Meno. And even if we deny the reference of 611 B to the Phcedo, and with 
 Rohde place the Phcvdo after the RepuhJic, the tenth book of the RepuhJic knows the 
 ideas, and even the Tpho^ c'ivOpcoTro'i, and cannot therefore be placed before the Gorgias 
 by those who make use of arguments from development. In speaking of immortality 
 Plato naturally tries to qualify and limit the doctrine of the tripartite soul."^ He can 
 only fall back upon poetical imagery and affirm his faith that in its true nature the 
 (immortal part of the) soul must be one and simple. It is a waste of ingenuity to 
 attempt to find a consistent chronological development in this point in the Phcedrtis; 
 Rep., II-V, X; Phcedo, and Timaus. It is perfectly true, as Diimmler argiies,"* that 
 
 iil»S»pra, pp. 36, 40 il. en f>syr/ie, pp. SSS ff. k:mn irgendwelche utilitaristischo Bcgrandung nicht 
 
 012SIEBECK (p. 144) and Dt'MMLER (Vol. I, p. 24X), it is mohr interessieren." Terrible logic I Aro modem believers 
 
 true, flud fault witli this too, on the ground that the "^ immortality wholly indifferent to utilitarian considera- 
 
 Socratosof the tenth book does not repeat every point of t'""-'' ""1^ Zugabo " 7 And had Plato no interest in the 
 
 the hypothesis like a lawyer, and forgets the stijiulation psychological proofs that the virtuous life is, even in this 
 
 that the unjust man was to have the power, if detected, world, the most pleasurable, given in the Laivs, the Phile- 
 
 to defy punishment, or tlio wealth to buy off the gods. *"»• ""<• ""> "'"th book of the Rcpuhlic? 
 Diimmler also objects that " nachdem die Porspektive auf i>i3.S'H/))-a, pp. 4'i, 46. 
 
 die Ewigkeit als jie-yiaTa J9Ao der Tugend bezeichnet war, 6H Vol. I, pp. 256 ff. 
 
 206
 
 Paul Shoeey 81 
 
 if the soul is really one, the definition of justice as a relation between its parts loses all 
 meaning. But such "inconsistencies" are inherent in human thought, and prove 
 nothing for the relative dates of Book X and Books II-V. Can any modern theo- 
 logian produce definitions of the virtues that will apply to man in his earthly state 
 and to the disembodied soul?"^ 
 
 Lutoslawski, while rejecting the fancies of Krohn and Pfleiderer, holds it pos- 
 sible to show that the first book of the RcpuhUc falls between the Gorgias and the 
 Phcedo, and that the remaining books follow the Phcedo and reveal traces of progressive 
 development of doctrine. The following parallel illustrates the force of his arguments: 
 
 P. 277: "This sharp and general formula- P. 318: 'Here''" for the first time occurs a 
 
 tion of the law of contradiction.""' not only as formulation of the law of contradiction as a 
 
 a law of thought as in Phcedo,'^" but for the law of thought, while in the Phcedo and earlier 
 
 first time as a law of being .... is a very books of the Republic it was a metaphysical 
 
 important step." law." 
 
 Lastly, a word must be said of the attempt to trace a development in Plato's 
 treatment of poetry. The contradictions of those who employ this method might be 
 left to cancel one another."' But the whole procedure is uncritical. Plato was always 
 sensitive to poetic genius, and there was no time when he might not have praised 
 Homer withoiit conspicuous irony .''-° But he always regarded the poet as an imitator, 
 whose aim is pleasure rather than the good, whose ethical teaching must be inter- 
 preted or controlled by the philosopher, and whose fine sayings are the product of 
 "inspiration" rather than of knowledge. The Apology '"'^ anticipates the Republic in 
 the doctrine that the poets do not know whereof they speak, and the Phcedrus in the 
 theory of poetic inspiration. The Gorgias, 502 BCD, deals with the moral influence 
 of poetry upon the masses in the tone of the Republic and Lairs; and like Republic, 
 601 B, strips from the body of the poet's discourse the meretricious adornment of the 
 poetic dress. The doctrine that poetry is /xi/xijai^ is sufficiently implied in Crafylus, 
 423, where the mimetic value of words is discussed, and where fiovaixr) is classified as 
 fiifirjaii. The differences between the tenth and the third books of the Republic 
 cannot be pressed. The third book hints that there is more to come ; "■'"' and the tenth 
 book announces itself as a profounder discussion, based on psychological distinctions 
 brought out in the intervening books. But it is begging the question to assume that 
 they were discovered by Plato after the composition of the third book. The fact that 
 
 «>5 Cf. supra, pp. 6, 7, and Hirmee, p. 641. the Republic, and sees in it a return from the bitter mood 
 
 616 436 B. 617 102 E. 618 802 E. of the Gorams and itepwfci/c to a calmer and more generous 
 
 -lOT., ^..^ *i i T»i i 1 t L J state of mind: *' Da ist er auch gerecht eegen andere: 
 
 619 Lutoslawski says that Plato s scorn of poetry de- „ j ,, ■ j t . , „ , . . * •' auucm, 
 
 , 1 fi. IV, c 1 iu .. .1 i .u u 1 e Homer und Hesiod, Lykurg und Solon sieht er unter sich. 
 
 veloped after the Symposium, and that the tenth book of h h 1. -V. rl i" ""^o» oitu, 
 
 the Republic is therefore later than the Phcedo, which 
 
 praises Homer without irony, and earlier than Phccdrus ^'2" Phmdo, 95 A, oure yip ay ... . 'Oi^rjpu) ttiif irouirn 
 
 and Thccetetus, which take for granted the low estimate of oiio^oyal^tv ovre ouroi r,i±:v ainoU; Laws. 776 E, o it o-o^c/iraTot 
 
 the poet. But Natoep, thinking of other passages of the '"'''' ''""■ '""•?'-(ii. — in both passages seriously, as the con- 
 
 Phcedrus, is positive that such a dialogue could not have text shows. 
 
 been written after the rejection of poetry in the ilc/wdJ/c; 621 23 C; c/. the /on. and 3/eno, 99 E. 
 
 while DOmmlee (Vol. I, p. 269) places the Symposium after 622 394 D, laws fie itai TrAeiw in tovtwv. 
 
 207
 
 82 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 in emphasizing the distinction between dramatic and narrative poetry Plato carelessly 
 speaks as if the former alone were imitative, proves nothing.''^'' A far more important 
 new point made in the tenth book is already distinctly implied in the Protaf/orns — 
 the antithesis between the principle of measure in the soul and rj tov cpaivofj-evov 
 Bwafii'!,'''' to which poetry makes its appeal.'^' The mood of the Symposium differs 
 from that of the Gorgicis and the Eeintblic. But this does not prove either that the 
 Synqjosium is earlier, or that Plato had been mellowed by success. A banquet at 
 which Agathon was host and Aristophanes a guest was obviouFly not the place for a 
 polemic against dramatic poetry. But even here the ironical superiority of the dialec- 
 tician is maintained, and the inability of the poets to interpret or defend their art is 
 revealed.'^"'^ 
 
 CONCLUSION. IDEAS AND NUMBERS. THE LAWS 
 
 The value of Plato's life-work would be very slightly affected even if it were true 
 that in the weakness of extreme old age the noble light of his philosophy did " go out 
 in a fog of mystical Pythagoreanism." It is not in the least true, however, and the 
 prevalence of the notion is due mainly (1) to the uncritical acceptance of the tradition 
 concerning Plato's "latest" doctrine of ideas and numbers; and (2) to the disparaging 
 estimate of the Lmcs expressed by those who care only for dramatic charm of style, or 
 by radicals like Grote, who are offended by the " bigotry" of a few passages. A word 
 must be said on each of these points. 
 
 1. Aristotle's account of Plato's later identification of ideas and numbers has 
 been generally accepted since Trendelenburg's dissertation on the subject.""' Zeller 
 rightly points out that the doctrine is not found in the extant writings, but adds that 
 for Plato numbers are entities intermediate between ideas and things of sense. In 
 my discussion of the subject""' I tried to establish two points: first, that we need not 
 accept the testimony of Aristotle, who often misunderstood Plato, and was himself 
 not clear as to the relation of mathematical and other ideas ; second, that the doctrine 
 of numbers as intermediate entities is not to be found in Plato, liut that the passages 
 which misled Zeller may well have been the chief source of the whole tradition about 
 ideas and numbers. The first point is a matter of opinion. I did not deny the testi- 
 mony of Aristotle, and no one who chooses to accept it can be refuted. The relation 
 of ideas to numbers was doubtless much debated by the scholastics of the Academy. 
 Aristotle's reports of the intolerable logomachy do not make it clear just how much 
 of this nonsense he attributed to Plato. But I do not intend to enter upon the inter- 
 pretation of the eleventh and twelfth books of the Metaphysics. No reader would 
 
 623393 c, 394 D. 62(pn)(a.7., 3.J6D. man is "inspired" by the tragic muse, another by the 
 
 82!i Rep., 602, 603. comic. If poetry were a matter of science, the poet could 
 
 626 201 B, Kivtvvtva, i 5(i»paT<?, o!i&iy fiiivai ii- Tore tXirov. "«« b"th forms, even as the scientific interpreter of poetry 
 
 Kal Mil" ««Ai! y, iXn,<;, ^iva,, i Wyit^v. Cf. also 223D, where would not, like the " inspired " Ion, be limited to Homer. 
 
 Socrates compels Agathon and Aristophanes to admit toB This wo may plausibly conjecture to be the meaning. But 
 
 avTOxi av&p'oi eti'oL KittfjLut^ialf Kal Tpaytiihiav ini(TTa<rSat jTOitil'. It IS only conjt.'CtUre. 
 
 This is thought to contradict Ecpuh., 395 A, but the contra- "^7 plat, de id. et numeric doctrina, 1828. 
 
 diction is removed by pressing ti;^"!) in what follows. One 629 Dg plat. id. doctrina, pp. 31 ff. 
 
 208
 
 Paul Suoeey 83 
 
 follow me, and no results could be won. If Aristotle's testimony be accepted, there is 
 an end of controversy. Plato taught in his lectures the doctrine of ideas and numbers. 
 
 But the second point is not so elusive. It is possible to test the argument tliat 
 the extant writings do not recognize an intermediate class of mathematical numbers, 
 and yet might easily suggest the notion to mechanical-minded students. Now Zeller 
 in his fourth edition confounds the two questions. He gives the impression that he 
 is answering me by a Qiiclleiibvlvgc, from Aristotle and PhiloptJiios. lie wholly 
 ignores my interpretation of a number of specific Platonic passages, which he appar- 
 ently takes for the mere misunderstandings and blunders of a beginner.""" I have no 
 hope of convincing Zeller, nor do I wish to force myself into a polemic with the 
 honored master of all who study Greek philosophy. But, as Mr. J. Adam, a scholar 
 whose scrupulous candor makes it a pleasure to argue with him, has expressed surprise 
 in his edition of tlie Rcpidilic that I still adhere to my opinion in spite of the mass of 
 evidence, I will endeavor to state my meaning more plainly. 
 
 The theory of ideas, the hypostatisiation of all concepts, once granted, numbers 
 do not differ from other ideas. The phrase, Tre/it avrcov t(op apiOfj.oou {Rcj^., 525 D), 
 denotes ideal numbers or the ideas of numbers, and opara fj uttto. acofiara exovTa<; 
 dpidfxoik are numbered things, things of sense participant in number.'^'" That is all 
 there is of it, and there is no extant Platonic passage that this interpretation will not 
 fit. For educational purposes it is true that mathematical science holds an inter- 
 mediate place between dialectic and the perceptions of sense. Mathematical 
 abstractions (17 "Trepl to eu fji,d6T]cn<;, Rep., 525 A) are the best propaedeutic to abstract 
 reasoning generally. But there is no distinction of kind between them and other 
 abstractions, o-/<;X,7;pw /Ma\a/coV {Rep., 524 A if.). Mathematical science as Sidvoia is 
 midway between the pure vov<; of dialectic and the Bo^a of sense. But that is because 
 of its method — the reliance on diagrams (images) and hypotheses. In themselves its 
 objects are explicitly stated to be pure vo-qra.'^"^ The "mathematical" numbers then 
 are plainly the abstract, ideal numbers of the philosopher. The numbers of the 
 vulgar are concrete numbered things. There is no trace of a third kind of number.'^' 
 Those who have not yet learned to apprehend abstractions mockingly ask the mathe- 
 
 629 It may be permissible to add that ho seems to have the ro^Ta being divided into two classes by T€-#cai. The 
 
 read other parts of the dissertation with more attention, sentence still stands, and I am quite willing to leave the 
 
 since, to mention only two cases, he adds on p. T-to a refer- question of FluchtigkeU to any competent scholar, e. y., to 
 
 ence d, j^rojws of the rptTo^ avOpoinoi to RepuOUc, 5P6, 597, M. Rodier, who translates " los intcUigibles, aussi bien les 
 
 and Tiin., 31 A, with the interpretation of their significance concepts abstraits (ou muth§matiqucs) que (ceux qui ont 
 
 given on p. 30; and he omits from p. 547 of the third edition pour objet) les qualit6s, etc." 
 
 a sentence criticised on p. 49 of the dissertation. Another 630 Adam translates ai™- tJ,.. ip^B^^v, "numbers them- 
 
 slight but significant point may bo mentioned. Aristotle ggi^es," which is quite right. My point is that " numbers 
 
 himself makes a not wholly clear distinction between themselves" are proved by the context and by PhiUbus, 
 
 mathematical ideas (tA e;- a,f,acp..rec Aeyo^e-a, almost tech- jg j5_ jg y^^ yg^j numbers. For Adam's further argument 
 
 nical) and other ideas. In illustration of this I objected ^, j-^jj-^^ _ ^ 
 to Zeller's interpretation of De An.^ 432a2, iv rois ei5eo-L rots 
 
 olaSlToi? Ti ^o,T-i cart .... ri re ei- i*aipccrei A.y°»'«''« ("die ^^' Hep., 510 D, toS TtTpay,ivov airoi fr,*.. . . . . ^a.1 S,a- 
 
 abstrakten Begriffe") «al iaa ri^ a;<r«,Ti,^ ifecs «ttl 7ra9,. ""P"" airil, oAA' oi ravr,,,- ij.. ypi^oua.^. 511 D, «a.Toc .-OTiToi.. 
 
 My objection was that both grammar and Aristotelian Sito,^ /itri ipxi'- 
 usage showed that oaa riu alaBririiv, etc., are also abstrak- ^S'^phiteb., 56 DE. 
 
 te Begriffe (in the German or English sense of the words), 
 
 209
 
 84 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 maticians (Rep., 526 A), Trepl ttoiwv apidfiuv SiaXe'jeffOe ; and the answer is, -rrepl tovtcov 
 5)v ^tavoTjOrivai fiovop i'^yaipd, coupled with an exposition that recalls the Parmenides 
 of the pure idea of unity.™ Simple as all this appears, it might easily be misunder- 
 stood by the pupils of the Academy. Mathematics was intermediate from an 
 educational point of view. In cosmogony numbers and geometrical forms are the 
 mediators between chaos and the general idea of harmony and measure.''' The 
 expression, numbers (arithmetic), of the vulgar and numbers of the philosopher would 
 lead a perverse ingenuity to ask of the mathematicians, in the words of the Republic, 
 ■Trepl ■Troieon apiO/xcbv Bia\eyea6e; Plato's use of "dyad" and "triad" as convenient 
 synomyms for the pure idea of two and three would be mistakenly supposed to imply 
 a distinction.''^^ The innocent question [Rep., 524 C), ti ouv ■jtot' earl to ne-ya av Kal to 
 ap.iKpov,''^ would suggest that it was a terminus technicus for some mysterious ultimate 
 philosophical principle, and set students upon hunting it and its supposed synomyms 
 through the dialogues, and, inasmuch as fj-eya -\- crfiiKpov indubitably = 2, it might 
 well be identified with the indeterminate dyad and its supposed equivalents, or any 
 other "principle" posited in antithesis to the one."' The folly once set a-going, there 
 are no limits to its plausible developments. All the unanswerable questions as to the 
 relation of ideas to things may assume special forms for special classes of ideas. Plato 
 himself shows this for ideas of relative terms in a much misunderstood passage of the 
 Parmenides.^^ The problem of the relations of numbered things, of the supposed 
 mathematical numbers, and of ideal numbers, offered a rich feast for the quibblers and 
 the 6-^tfj-a6eL<; of the Academy. "Before and after" is essential to number, but there 
 is no "before and after" in the ideas. Multiplicity is inherent in mimber, but the 
 "idea" even of a million must be one. Other ideas may be imperfectly copied by 
 things, but is not the number five entirely present in five things? Echoes of this 
 pitiful scholasticism are preserved for us in the metaphysics of Aristotle. But what 
 possible reason can there be for attributing it to Plato? Adam himself (Vol. II, p. 
 160) repeats the disconsolate question: "rrepl -ttoicov apiOfxcov StaXeyeaOe iv oh to ev olov 
 vfieh a^iovTe iaTiv, laov re eicacrTOV irav iravTl koL ovhe crfXLKpov Bia(f>e'pov ; and asks: 
 "Are we then to suppose that there are many ideas of 'one' ?" The answer is: "Yes, 
 precisely, to the extent that there are many ideas of anything." We have already 
 seen {Rcj^., 476A) that every idea is j^c?* se one, and yet, not merely as reflected in 
 phenomena, but t^ a\\^\(ov KoivwvCa appears many. The contradiction is inherent in 
 the theory of ideas. As against the multijilicity of phenomena, we insist on the indi- 
 visible unity of the idea. But when we find the idea involved with other ideas in a 
 number of instances, we are forced to use the plural. Plato does not, however, here 
 
 •33C/. Idea i)f Good, p. 222; Phileh., 56E, ei in'ri tioviia "Again, great and small, swift and slow aro allowed to 
 
 fiovaSoi iKaa-nii Tutv ti.vpi(iiv nr}&tfiiav aXKrif a\Xij<; SLa<t>epov<rdi' Ti^ exist nowhere without the mind, being entirely relative, 
 
 «ij<7«i. and channing as the frame or position of the organs of 
 
 6^< Tim., r)3 B IT. ; Phileh., 66 A. sense varies." 
 
 Ml Phaidu, 101 C i Parmen., 1 19 C ; Phaido, IM. «3i De Plat, id., p. 37. 
 
 6:'i> Plato is using the terms precisely as Bisiikblbt does 638133c g,. cf, ^. j. p._ Vol. IX, p. 288. 
 when he says {Principles of Human KTWwledye, XI): 
 
 210
 
 Paul Shoeey 
 
 in terms pluralize the "one." He says: Of what numbers do you speak in which the 
 one, i. e., the idea of one, present in each as a constituent and essential part of the 
 more compk^x idea, etc. ? Of course, this implies a multiplicity of units in each num- 
 ber, and still more in all ; but only as any idea is multiplied when it appears in a 
 number of others. The multiplication of the idea t^ tw^ a-MfxciTcop icoiveovia is more 
 easily evaded than that ry aWijXwv KOivwvia, because in the first case we may use the 
 imagery of pattern and co[)y, while, in the second case, the idea is an essential con- 
 stituent part of that into which it enters. In the special case of numbers, the paradox 
 is still more glaring. But Plato is not one to be frightened from the path of philo- 
 sophical consistency by a paradox which he rightly regarded as largely verbal. In 
 the Parmenides he amuses himself by showing that the idea of " one " itself apprehended 
 T^ SiavoM fiovov Kad' avTO breaks up into many."*" This does not make it the less 
 necessary for the mathematician to apprehend the pure absolute idea of unity and 
 restore it as fast as it is disintegrated by analysis or the senses."" 
 
 2. Despite many passages of stately and impressive eloquence, the Laws will 
 remain the type of "frigidity" for those who, like Lucian, read Plato mainly for the 
 dramatic vivacity of the PhcBdrus or the artistic beauty of the Sijrrnwsium. Our 
 purpose is not to deny the altered mood and style that mark the masterpiece of Plato's 
 old age, but merely to protest against the notion that it may be safely neglected by 
 the serious student, or that it presents a doctrine essentially different from that of the 
 Rejniblic. 
 
 If Plato was not to rewrite the Republic, it was almost inevitable that his political 
 studies should assume the form of a project of detailed legislation for a possible Greek 
 city. But even here, while recognizing that many of his theoretic postulates will have 
 to be mitigated in practice,'" he holds fast in principle to the ideals of the earlier 
 work."*- A harmony of the Laws and Republic, however, though not a difficult task, 
 would demand more space than can be given to it here. We need not delay to examine 
 the contribution of the Laws to our knowledge of Greek institutions, or the very con- 
 siderable influence which it exercised upon the speculations of Aristotle and later 
 Greek thinkers. One service which it renders to students of the dialogues we have 
 already often noted. 
 
 As the years wore on, Plato naturally grew weary of Socratic irony, of the game 
 of question and answer, of the dramatic illustration or the polemical analysis of eristic. 
 Even in the earlier dialogues he sometimes evades or contemptuously explains away 
 an equivocation which elsewhere he dramatically portrays or elaborately refutes."" In 
 the Laws this is his habitual mood,"" and in consequence the Laws may often be 
 quoted for the true Platonic solution of problems which Socratic irony or dramatic art 
 seems to leave unsolved in the earlier dialogues."^ 
 
 While acknowledging this change of mood, we must be on our guard against the 
 
 639 U3 A, 1-14 E. 640j;ep.,525 E ; eupra, n. 647. 6« 7i6. «" 627 B, 627 D, 644 A, 864 B. 
 
 642739 C ff., S07 B. 6*3 jse;,., 436 C D E, 437 A, 451 A; UhSupra, pp. 13, 19, nn. 70, 71, 293. 
 
 Cratyl, 431 A ; Symp., 187 A ; Euthyd., 277 E. 
 
 211
 
 86 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 exaggeration of its significance by Grote, Mill, and Gomperz. Grote had little appre- 
 ciation of Plato's substantive thought at any stage. He cared only for the dramatic 
 illustration of the elcnclnis. This, which for the aiithor was a means to an end, was 
 for him the real Plato. The exposition of positive doctrine he treats as the work of a 
 totally different person — a dogmatic Plato who has "ceased to be leader of the oppo- 
 sition and passed over to the ministerial benches." This view, which appears even in 
 Grote's treatment of the Gorgias and Thccetetus, is still more prominent in his criticism 
 of the Republic. In the case of the Laws this feeling is intensified by the deep 
 repugnance aroused in Grote's mind by Plato's whimsical provisions for the conversion 
 or punishment of those who denied the truths of natural religion or traded upon the 
 superstitions of the vulgar. ""* He cannot speak of the Laws without alluding to that 
 unfortunate page; and the vision which he conjured up of the aged Plato as the 
 Torquemada of a Pythagorean mysticism makes him totally blind to the real signifi- 
 cauce of what in wealth of content is Plato's greatest work. This view was accepted 
 by Mill from Grote, and by Gomperz from Mill, and it leads them both to misappre- 
 hend the true relation of the Laws to the Bepuhlic. Mill says: "In his second 
 imaginary commonwealth, that of the Leges, it [dialectic] is no longer mentioned ; it 
 forms no part of the education either of the rulers or of the riiled.""' Similarly 
 Gomperz:"' "Plato in his old age grew averse from dialectic. In the Laws, the last 
 product of his pen, he actually turned his back upon it and filled its vacant place at 
 the head of the curriculum of education with mathematics and astronomy.'""" These 
 statements, even if we concede that they are true in a sense to the letter, convey a 
 totally false impression, as a slight study of the last pages of the twelfth book of the 
 Laws will show. Plato does not care to rewrite the sixth and seventh books of the 
 Republic. But he defines as clearly as in the earlier work the necessity and function 
 of dialectic and the higher education in the si ate. Even in the first book we are fore- 
 warned that to complete the organization of the state the founder must set over it 
 ^vXaKW; .... TOii? fiev Bia <^povrj(Teai<i Tovi he St' a\rj6ov^ B6^i]<; toWa9.^^° In the twelfth 
 book we are introduced to these guardians who are to possess knowledge and not merely 
 right opinion. They compose a nocturnal council which is to be the anchor of the 
 state."" Recurring to the imagery and the manner of the early dialogues,'^" Plato tells 
 us that as the pilot, the physician, the general represent intelligence (vois) applied to 
 the definite ends of their respective arts, so this highest council is the head, the soul, 
 (he mind of the state, possessing knowledge of the political ctkotto'; or true end of rule."" 
 
 &*c 908-10. ^*^ Z>/ss. and Z)isru88., Vol. IV, IK 2K9. mentioning any othor element of the higher education. 
 
 6«8 Greek Thinkers, Translation, p. 4G6. The possessors of ^pir^int will surely bo able .ar' tIS, f ,- 
 
 «.nm ,-, «. , r, r.~ ^ Tc if { fi30 E ) a Hil w i 11 p Tuc L ice t ho d 1 alcc t Ical Hie t liods of t ho 
 
 6<9Tolike efTect Zellkr, pp. 9.M, 9oC. ,. .,,' ... ,,,',, ,„,, .7„. ,„„.„ .. . 
 
 ' '^ ' "recent SoiilusI, I luldniJ!,aml Pohticus. Zeller 9 attempt 
 
 »M632 r. The paralh^lism with the Republic is obvious. to distinguish between *pof.|<ri5 and the roOs of the KeputiUc 
 
 There, too («2A, 497 CD), there is a similar anticipation of j^ a false point. .<.pdi.|(r.s is used in rhacio, 69 B. 
 the need of guar<lians who know as distinguished from tho g^j q^. p 
 
 assistants. lu Laws, 818 A, there is another autieii>atiou 
 
 of tho hit.her education. Mathematics only is mentioned ^■-'' Protau., 3111); Corg., 447, 448. 449 E ; Euthyd.,mC; 
 
 because Plato is cuplaiuiug that it is not needful for tho Hep., 3.33. 
 multitude to study it profoundly. Therp is no oeeasi<»n for 6539^1, 9*>2. 
 
 212
 
 Paul Shoeey 87 
 
 No state can prosper or bo saved unless such knowledge resides in some part of it as a 
 ^v\aKT7]piov."'* The beginning of such knowledge is to fir) vXai/acrOai irpcx; ttoXKo, 
 aro'x^a^o/j.evov aW' eh ei> /BXewovTa, etc.™ Now ra -rSiv TroXecov vdfxifia aim at many 
 things — wealth, power, and rov eXevdepov Br) ^iovf^'' Our aim is vii'iue. But virtue is 
 both four and one. The intelligent physician can define his one aim. Must not the 
 intelligent ruler be able to define his? It is easy to show how the four virtues are 
 many. To exhibit their unity is harder.*" A man who amounts to anything must 
 know, not only the names, but the \o'7o? of things. And the true guardians, teachers, 
 and rulers of a state must not merely rebuke vice and inculcate virtue, but they must 
 be able to teach i^j^ 8vvap,iv exei.'^"" The state may be likened to the body, the younger 
 guardians to the senses in the head, the elders to the brain." They cannot all be 
 educated alike. Therefore iTeov apa eVi riva aKpijBearepav TiaiSeiav t>)? efnrpoaOev.'^" 
 This is the education already glanced at in our phrases about the unity of purpose. 
 The essence of the more accurate method is oiir old acquaintance to Trpo? fxiav Iheav 
 eK To)v iroXXoiv Koi avofioiwv Bvvarov elvai /SX.eVeti'.'''' The guardian must be able to do 
 what Meno could not do — IBelv irpSsTOv, o tL irore Bia irdvTwv twv TerTapwv tuvtov 
 Tvyyavei!^' And similarly irepl KaXov re koI ayadov and ttuvtcov tmv airovhaiwv, they 
 must not only know in what sense each is one and many, biit they miist be able to 
 expound their knowledge — ttjv evBei^iv tw Xoyay ivheUwadat.^^ The thing being so 
 clearly indicated, it would be pitiful quibbling to object that the word BiaXeKTiKr] 
 does not happen to occur here. Its omission is possibly due to the fact that the 
 Athenian throughout the Laws talks down to the level of his unsophisticated Spartan 
 and Cretan interlocutors. Mathematics and astronomy, then, are not substituted for 
 dialectic, but are added for a special reason among the airovhala which the guardians 
 must understand with real knowledge. The multitude may follow tradition. The 
 guardians must be able to demonstrate the truths of natural religion, as we have done.'^'^ 
 Astronomy, the study of the ordered movements of the heavens, is a great aid to this. 
 With astronomy is involved the necessary mathematics, which also in their relation to 
 music and the arts are of use to him who is to shape the characters and laws of men.*^'^ 
 He who cannot learn these things can never be a ruler, though he may be an assistant. 
 In the last two pages of the Laws Plato evades giving a detailed account of the 
 curriculum of the higher education thus indicated — perhaps he was weary, perhaps 
 he did not care to repeat the Repuhlic.'^ In any case, there is no justification for the 
 statement that the Laws ignore the higher education of the rulers or substitute in it 
 mathematics and astronomy for dialectic. On the contrary, the unity of Plato's 
 
 664 962 C ; (■/. Rep., 42i C. 661 Cf. Phmdr., 265 D ; and with Taunjs ov« ten (ro()>«<rTepa 
 
 6-i5r62D. ne9o5os, c/. Pfcacb., 16 B; Pftccrfr., 266 B. 
 
 6^6 C/. i?ep., 563 A, ifa 5ij eAeii^epos if. 662 965 D. 3/t'no, 74 .\, Tijt' 5e /xiai', Ji 5ia vivrtov TOUTwc 
 
 65' Cf. Phileb., IS E, nis tuny li' KHi iroAAi auT(Lc tKarcfitiy. t'o-TiV, oii SvyaiiaBa iyttjpflw. 
 
 658 964 C ; cf. Bep., .366 E, t,; o6toO Svyiixa «V tj tou l^oi/TOs 663 966 B. 
 }flv\TJ evof. 664 In Book X. 
 
 659 964 E ; cf. Tim., 69, 70. 665 967 E. 
 
 660 965 A. 666 968 D. 
 
 213
 
 88 
 
 The Unity of Plato's Thought 
 
 thought is strikingly ilhistrated by his return in the pages just analyzed to some of 
 the favorite ideas of the Republic and earlier dialogues."" 
 
 It is not necessary to prolong this study. The Timcrus, so far as it affects our 
 argument, has already been considered."'''* The Timceiis as a whole I have studied 
 elsewhere.""" 
 
 The object of this discussion and the expression "unity of Plato's thought" may 
 easily be misunderstood. I may therefore be permitted, in conclusion, to repeat that 
 I have not meant to sophisticate away the obvious and inevitable variations in Plato's 
 moods, and minor beliefs from youth to old age. Nor in the study of such develop- 
 ment would I reject the aid of a sober and critical method of style statistics."'" My 
 thesis is simply that Plato on the whole belongs rather to the type of thinkers whose 
 philosophy is fixed in early maturity (Schopenhauer, Herbert Spencer), rather than to 
 the class of those who receive a new revelation every decade (Schelling). And I have 
 tried to show that the method which proceeds on the contrary assumption leads to mis- 
 interpretation of his writings. The illustrations given are merely typical. There has 
 been no attempt to catalogue exhaustively the opinions of contemporary Platonists. 
 The polemic is, I trust, not discourteous, and is, I am sure, not intentionally disloyal. 
 In any case, it turns generally on the meaning or relevancy of specific passages and can 
 easily be tested. Some excuse for its prominence may be found in Mill's statement 
 that "there are few, if any, ancient authors concerning whose mind and purpose so 
 many demonstrably false opinions are current, as concerning Plato." 
 
 667GOMPERZ supports his view of the anti-dialectical 
 tendency of Plato's mind ia the Laics by the hostility of 
 the Sophist to every kind of antilogy. But surely eristic is 
 one thing and dialectic another. The true Socratic elen- 
 chus is described and the difficulty of distineruishing it 
 from eristic indicated in a locus classic^ts in the Sophist 
 (230BfF.); and both the 5o/>/i;si and the Politicus employ 
 the keenest dialectic in order to meet and defeat eristic on 
 its own ground {Soph., 259 CD). In the Fkilebtis, which 
 
 Gomperz thinks late, dialectic is still the highest science 
 of truth (Phileh.. 58). But Plato had other interests than 
 dialectic, and it is unreasonable to expect him to fill the 
 Laws and Timwus with repetitions of what had been said 
 once for all in the Sophist, Potiticvji, and Philehus. 
 
 ^nn Supra, p. 37. 6C!M. J. P., Vol. IX, pp. 395 fif 
 
 6"oAs, e. g.. that of Ritter, "Die Sprachstatistik in 
 Anwendung auf Piaton und Goethe," Neue JahrbUcher 
 etc.. 1903. 
 
 INDEX 
 
 ■Airififri<jii. 32, 43, 44, 19, n. 109. 
 
 'AcOpuJTTO? IJLfTpOV, 67. 
 
 Cardinal virtues, 12. 
 
 Charmides, 15. 
 
 Copula, ambiguity of, 54. 
 
 Courage, 11, 15, n. 43. 
 
 Crat'ilus, 75 ff., 54, .56. 
 
 Definition. 13, 16, 66, n. 86; 
 by dichotomy. 50 ff. 
 
 Dialectic, 74, 86 ff. ; negative 
 goes too far, 17 ff. 
 
 Dichotomy, 50 ff. 
 
 Eristic, 13, 14, 19 n. 108, .50, 77, 
 n.667. 
 
 Ethics, 9 ff. 
 
 Kuthi/ttcmus. 76 ff., 54. 
 
 Euthyphro. 12. 31. 
 
 Fallacies of Plato, inten- 
 tional, 4, 6, 20, 23 n. 1.37, 54, 
 57 n. 426, n. 32, n. 42, n. 70, 
 n. 106, n. 528, n. 548. 
 
 Freedom of the will. 9. 
 
 (ieueralizations, n. .500. 
 
 Good, idea of, 16 ff., 74. 
 
 Qorgias, 22, 31, 32, 25 n. 167, 77. 
 
 Government, forms of, 62. 
 
 Happiness and virtue, 25 ff. 
 
 Hedonism, 20. 
 
 Hedonistic calculus, 23. 
 
 Heraclitus. 28, 68. 
 
 Hippias Minor. 10 n. 38. 
 
 Ideas, theory of, 27 ff. ; diiB- 
 culties of, 36, 52, 84; not 
 concepts merely, 29, 30, 38, 
 39; not thoughts of God, 
 30, 38, 65, n. 512 ; origin of, 
 32; in "late" dialogues, 
 37 ff. ; and numbers, 82 ff. 
 
 Isocrates. 71, 72, 77. 
 
 Lactics. 15, u. 603. 
 
 I.airs. 85 ff. 
 
 Lie, voluntary and involun- 
 tary, 10 n. 3H. 
 
 Love (epuv?), 19 ff. 
 
 Lysis. IX, 19. 
 
 ^ratl■^ialism, 68, 69, n. 283. 
 
 Matter or si)ace. not mt o", 
 38, n. .502, u. .50.3. 
 
 Mcno, .32, .33, 77. 
 
 Mi) iv, fallacy of, 53 ff. 
 
 Method («ot' ci6»j, etc.) 51. 
 Minor dialogues, dramatic, 
 
 13, 15. 
 Negative dialectic, goes too 
 
 far, 17 ff. 
 
 'Oi'OfiaTa and pij/iaTO, 56. 
 Parmcnicles, 57 ff., 34, 36, 37. 
 ndvra pit, 68. 
 Phmdo. 35, 41, 77. 
 Phcdrus, 71 ff., 19. 
 Philehus, 17 n. 93, 22, 23, 4.3, 
 
 46, 63 ff. 
 Pleasure. 22; negativity of, 
 
 23, 24; in mind, not body, 
 
 45, 46. 
 Poetry, Plato's attitude- 
 
 toward, 81 ff. 
 Political art, 17,62. 
 Politicus. Ill) ff., 44. 
 Protagoras, 12 n. 48, 20, 21, 
 
 Psychology, 40 ff., i;6 ff. 
 
 (Thcirtetus). 
 Psychological terminology, 
 
 47 ff. 
 
 Republic, 78 ff., 14, 26, 35 n. 
 238, 41, 42, .55, 51, n. 375. 
 
 Socratic ignorance, 6; in 
 minor dialogues drama- 
 tic, 15. 
 
 Socratic paradoses, 9. 
 
 Soul, immortality of. 40 ff., 
 80. 
 
 Soul, tripartite, 42. 
 
 Sophist, .50 ff. 
 
 Sprach-Statistik, 1, 5, 7 n. 
 10, 88. 
 
 SwraiTiof, n. 461. 
 
 2(»>(/>pOCTU»'TJ, 15. 
 
 Symposium, 19, 77. 
 
 Temperaments, the two, 12 
 n. .59, 13 II. 70, 62 n. 481. 
 
 Thcirtctiu:, IK ff., 33, 55. 
 
 Tima-m, 37,88. 
 
 Utilitarianism. 20 ff. 
 
 Vice, involuntary, 9. 
 
 Virtue, is knowledge, 10; 
 unity of, 10; coincides 
 witii happiness, 25 ff. 
 
 2U
 
 THE TOLEDO MANUSCRIPT OF THE GERMANIA 
 
 OF TACITUS
 
 THE TOLEDO MANUSCUirT OF THE GERMANIA OF TACI- 
 TUS, WITH NOTES ON A PLINY MANUSCRIPT' 
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE CODEX TOLETANUS 
 
 The manuscript of wliich the Gcrmania forms n part, 49.2 of the Zelada collec- 
 tion, contains 223 folios, with 30, occasionally 29, lines to the page. The page is 
 23.1cm. X 14.5 cm., and the written portion 17.2 cm. X 8.3 cm. It is divided as fol- 
 lows: Cor. Taciti De Vita Movihns Et Origine Germanorum Opus Eleganiissimiim, 
 folio 1 r. to the middle of 15 v. ; Opus Eiusdcm De Vita Et Mori''^ L. Agricolr, 10 r. 
 to bottom of 36 V. ; lo. Antoiiii Cainpaiii Oraforis Atque Poetae Cclcherrimi Omtio 
 De Laudihus Scientiaruvi, 37 r. to 63 v.; fragment of an oration, 64 r. to the middle 
 of 66r. ; a number of Pliny's ie/fers 66 r. to 221 v. ; fragment of an oration, 222 r. 
 to 223 V. 
 
 On folio 15 v., at the end of the Germania, after relinquam there is written 
 :=o reXcoo- and just below, the subscription FVLGINIE SCRIPTVM GERENTE ME 
 MAGISTRATVM PV • SCRIBE ■ KAL' • IVN • 1474. The AijricoJa has at the end 
 the word FINIS only. On folio 63 v. following the oration of Antonius stands the 
 title of his oration, followed by these words: Scripta p me M. Angtm Crullum Tuder- 
 tem fulginii pu. Scribam Noii Decembr MccccLxxiiii Deo Laiis & honos. The selec- 
 tions from Pliny's Letters' have, on folio 221 v. and 222 r., the subscrij)tion Caii 
 Plinii oratoris atc^ Phylosaphi Dissertissimi epistolarum liber octavus et ultimas 
 explicit foeliciter dec gras Finis Perusie in domo Crispoli'°* 1468 AMHN TeXwo- M. 
 Angelas Tuders. Incidentally it may be noticed that the scribe's name is Crullus, 
 not Trullus as Leuze surmised from Wiinsch's report in the Classical Revieiv, 1899, 
 p. 274, and that his patronymic in the subscription, both on folio 63 and 221, is given 
 
 1 In the spring of 1899 I planned to visit Toledo for the the codex itself convinced me that it was thoroughly trust- 
 
 pnrpose of collating the Tacitus MS. in the possession of worthy. I take this opportunity to express my sincere 
 
 the cathedral library of that city. Reference was made to thanks to Monsignor Merry del Val, the archbishop of 
 
 this plan in the Cfassical Fcvien^ of the preceding year Nicaea. whose enli;,'htc'ned interest in classical study is well 
 
 (Vol. XII, p. 465). The necessity of finishing another piece known. Through his friendly intercession in my behalf I 
 
 of work upon which I was engaged forced me, however, to received permission to make a complete copy of the Ger- 
 
 give up the project for a time, and I was unable to carry it 7na7ua text, although such permission had never been 
 
 out until last spring. In the interval Dr. Leuze, of granted before, I believe, iu the Toledo library. I am in- 
 
 Tilbingen, made an admirable collation of the Agricoli. debted also to Dr. Leuzo and to Dr. Wiiusch. who first 
 
 portion of the MS., and published the results of his exarai- made the existence of the Toledo MS. known to students 
 
 nation of it in the eighth Suppleiitenthand of Ph'tlologus, by his note in Hermes, Vol. XXXII, p. 5'.», for the helpful 
 
 In this paper, therefore, I shall confine myself to the Ger- suggestions which they gave to rae by letter before I went 
 
 wianm, which is contained in the same codex, and which to Toledo. 
 
 Dr. Leuze did not have time to collate. In his article (p. 2 A description of this part of the MS., with a coHation 
 
 517) Dr. Leuze expressed the fear that his collation might ^f ^ fg^ of ti,e letters contained in it, is published in this 
 
 not be accurate at all points, because he was obliged to paper on pp. <3. 44. 
 make it in a very short time, but my comparison of it with 
 
 217
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 as Tuders, not Tudertinus as Wiinsch reports. A more important correction of 
 Wunsch's reading^ consists in the fact that at the end of Antonius's oration the date 
 is clearly 1474: and not 1471. From the dates previously reported Lenze inferred 
 that the Afjricola was written between December 5, 1471, and June 1, 1474. This 
 siipposition involved a serious difficulty, because, as will be noticed, the oration of 
 Antonius, which follows the Germania, seemed to bear the earlier date, 1471. Since, 
 however, the actual reading in both cases is 1474 the difficulty disappears, and further- 
 more we can say with considerable confidence that the Agricola, which stands between 
 the Germania and the oration of Antonius, was written between June 1 and December 
 5, 1474. The date, 1468, given at the end of Pliny's Letters, is a little surprising, 
 but it is written in brown ink, while the rest of the subscription is in bright red ink, 
 and may be an incorrect date inserted later. This supposition is in a slight degree 
 confirmed by the fact that the subscription is arranged in lines of approximately equal 
 length, except that in the line where 1468 is written this number stands to the right 
 of the perpendicular, to the left of which the other lines of the subscription fall, but I 
 am not inclined to lay much sti'ess on this last consideration. Since Angelas makes 
 no mention of his title of public scribe in this connection, and since Pliny's Letters 
 were copied at Perusia, it may perhaps be assumed with safety that the Pliny MS. was 
 not copied in 1474. That Angelus copied the Agricola as well as the Germania is not 
 only clear from the close resemblance which the handwriting in the one document 
 bears to that of the other, but is proved beyond a doubt by examining his method of 
 forming certain combinations of letters. To take one illustration only: fama so 
 closely I'esembles fovma in Agr. 10, 12 that Dr. Leuze was in doubt (p. 545) which of 
 the two words was intended. The same word, fama, is written in the same peculiar 
 way in Germ. 34, 9 and 35, 16 (Mtillenhoff's ed.). The signs for abbreviations, the 
 method of making corrections, and the orthography in the two texts are also similar, 
 although perhaps one ought not to lay much stress on the resemblance last mentioned. 
 
 The MS. of the Germania, like that of the Agricola, has a great many variants. 
 These are without exception written on the margin in the hand and ink used in the 
 body of the text. Someone has also added on the margin here and there in bright red 
 ink the nominative form of certain proper names occurring in the text. Thus on folio 
 1 r. opposite 2,8 (ed. MtlU.) stands Germania, opposite 2, 12 (ibid.) Tuisco dens, 
 opposite 2, 13 [it)id.) Mannus. These additions are of no importance in discussing 
 the MS., and may, therefore, be left entirely out of consideration. 
 
 Corrections of a single letter or syllable are made above the line. In two cases 
 only, where it is necessary to insert one or more words (13, 4 and 13, 18), the words 
 to be added are written on the margin. The corrections are made in ink of three 
 different colors^a dark brownish green (that of the text itself), a reddish brown, and a 
 bright red. It may bo stated with confidence that those in green ink are made by the 
 
 ■iTlio errors iu Dr. Wflnsch's description of the MS. result of coarse solely from the fact that, as he wrote to Dr. 
 Leazo, he was alloweit to note Acusaei-lichkeitcn only. 
 
 218
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 scribe himself from the copy which he is following. One cannot speak with the same 
 certainty of the other two classes of corrections, Init T am strongly inclined to think 
 that those in reddish-brown ink are in the hand of the original copyist. The third 
 corrector, he of the bright red ink, is evidently the scribe who wrote the proper names 
 on the margin to which reference has been made above. The ink is the same as that 
 used in the titles and the paragraph marks. This fact makes it reasonably sure that 
 this third class of corrections may be attributed either to the original coj>yist or to one 
 of his fellows. His corrections are so slight as to afford us little basis for a comparison 
 of his hand with that of the text. The style which he has used in his notes on the 
 side of the page differs from the writing of the original copyist, but probably the dif- 
 ference is no greater than would naturally exist between the formal and the free hand 
 of the same scribe. We may assume, therefore, with great probability that all three 
 classes of corrections are to be traced to the original copyist. It does not follow, how- 
 ever, that they come from the same source. Those in green ink were undoubtedly made 
 by the copyist as he proceeded with his work. As has been remarked already, they 
 were corrections of errors which he made in following his copy. Those in reddish- 
 brown and in bright red ink must have been added somewhat later. That a con- 
 siderable interval of time elapsed between the copying of the text and the insertion of 
 these two classes of corrections seems rather probable from the fact that these two inks 
 are used in correcting the Agricola also. The reddish-brown ink is used, for instance, 
 in Agr. 43, 7 (ed. Halm),* and the bright red ink in 3, 6; 29, 9; 31, 2; 31, 19; 33, 6, 
 and le, 1 (see Leuze, pp. 543-54). It is clear that these changes were made some time 
 after the entire MS. had been finished, and for this second and third correction of the 
 text a MS. other than the archetype of T, or even two such MSS., may have been used. 
 The bearing of these corrections upon the text of the MS. from which T was copied can 
 be ascertained only by discovering their source, and this can be done better when we 
 come to discuss the readings in T.^ 
 
 II 
 
 T AND THE BC CLASSES OF MANUSCRIPTS' 
 
 COLL.\TION OF TBbCc WITH MULLENHOFF'S EDITION ' 
 
 Cor. Taciti De Vita Moribus Et Origine Germanorum Opus Elegantissimum 
 Feliciter Incipit T 
 
 4 At 43, 7 avsim was omitted by the original copyist, of B (Vat. 1862) and C (Vat. 1518) are from my own collation 
 
 and added on the margin in brownish-red ink by the of those MSS., and a list of corrections to be made in Mal- 
 
 corroctor. lenhoff's critical apparatus may be found on pp. 42, 43. The 
 
 6 This point has a like importance for the Agricola. hand of the first corrector is indicated by T', that of the 
 
 second by Ta, that of the third by T-'. At the points 
 
 6 MttllenhoS's nomenclature for the MSS. is followed, carted in this table with a star Mallenhoff, in the Deutsche 
 
 and in this table the readings of B bC and c. which make Allertumskunde, Vol. IV (Berlin, 1900), expresses a prefer- 
 
 np the BC classes, are given, because the fundamental ^^^^ j^^ j^^ readings which T (with certain other MSS.) 
 
 point in connection with any new Germaiua MS. must be ^^^^^ jj ^^^ seemed best, however, for convenience in 
 
 to determine its relation to these four MSS. reference, to print in the first column the readings of Mul- 
 
 'The readings of b and c have been taken from the lenhoff's teit, even where that editor on maturer consider- 
 
 critical apparatus in MallenhoS's edition. The readings ation has expressed a preference for another reading. 
 
 219
 
 The Toledo Maxu.sceipt of the G-ermania of Tacitus 
 
 Cornelii Taciti De Origiiie Et Situ Germanorum Liber Incipit B 
 Cornelii • Taciti ■ De Origine ■ Situ • Moribus Ac Populis Germanorum Liber 
 Incipit : =n= b 
 
 C • Cornelii Taciti de origine et situ germanorum C 
 
 C • Cornelii Taciti De Origine Et Situ Germani§ Liber Incipit c 
 
 Editio Muelleuhofifii 
 
 1. 1 Germania 
 
 1 Raetisque 
 
 2 Danuvio 
 
 3 cetera 
 
 3 Oceanus 
 
 6 Raeticarum 
 
 8 septentrionali 
 
 9 Danuvius 
 
 10 Abnobae 
 
 11 septimum 
 
 TBbCc 
 
 ermania omissa G quae minio pingi ilcbelxit T 
 Ehaetiis(^ T, Retiisque B, rhetiisque b, retiisque Cc 
 Daiiubio T, danubio Bbc 
 cetera T, coetera et similiter sae2}iiis rel ct^terab, cetera 
 
 vel caetera Cc ubiquc 
 occeanus TC uhique 
 r'^eticay T, rlieticanim b, reticarum C, raeticarum c, 
 
 Reticarum B 
 septemtrionali T 
 Dannubius T, danubius Bb, Danuuius C, danuuius in 
 
 damxbius corr. c' 
 Arnobe (al Arbone al none in margine) T, Arnob§ 
 
 (Arbouae in marg.) B, arbon^ b, arbone C, arnobae 
 
 in arbonae corr. c 
 septimu^ • ''' • (septimus in septimum correxit ct ■ Is ■ 
 
 sujjra addidif T") T 
 
 2, 12 Tuistonem 
 
 14 conditoresque 
 
 15 
 
 Itj 
 
 Ingaevones 
 Herminones 
 
 16 ceteri 
 
 10 Istaevones 
 
 17 deo 
 
 18 plurisque 
 18 Suebos 
 
 20 Germaniae 
 
 21 Rhenum 
 24 omnea 
 
 24 vlctore 
 
 25 etiam 
 
 Tuiscone T, Tuistone C, Tristone et in iiuirg. Tuisman 
 B, tristone b, tui supra tri /3, Bistonem c 
 
 conditorisc^ T, conditorisque B b c, conditoris C 
 
 Ingeuones T B b C, ingeuones /3, ingaeuones c 
 
 liermi°ones (n supra addidit T-') T, Hermiouea BbC, 
 liermi"ones /3, herminones c 
 
 ceteri T 
 
 Isteuones TC 
 
 deos T 
 
 phu'sc^ T, phiresquo BbCc 
 
 Sut'uos T B b C c 
 
 germani^ T 
 
 rhenium (i piincio drier it T') T 
 
 omsT 
 
 victor-T (vf. arar- 14, 17) 
 
 oni. Tc, etiam B b, & C 
 
 ' Qentls vcrbuM (:'. lied. M.) Jol. f rlaudit. 
 
 220
 
 Frank Fkost Ahhott 
 
 H, 2 proelia 
 
 4 barditum 
 
 5 futuraeque 
 5 pugnae 
 
 7 vocis 
 
 7 videtiir 
 
 10 Ulixen 
 
 12 Germaniae 
 
 13 incolitur 
 
 14 iiominatumqiie 
 . . . araui 
 
 15 Laertae 
 
 1(5 monumeiitaque 
 
 17 Graecis 
 
 18 Germaniae 
 18 Raetiaeque 
 
 18 quae 
 
 prelia T, plia I), plia C, praelia c 
 
 Barditum et in mdrij. Baritu T, baritum supra bardi- 
 tum c' 
 
 futurecj T corr. in futur^cj T^ 
 
 pugne T corr. in pugn^ T^ 
 
 voces TBbCo 
 
 videntur T B b C c 
 
 ulixem T, ulixen Cc, Ulyxen B, Ulyssem (ss //( 
 litiira) h 
 
 germanie T corr. in germani^ T^ 
 
 colit~T corr. m icolit'T" 
 
 nominatumc^ ACKITTVPflON aram TBCc, nominatum- 
 que aram {in niorg. deest /3) b 
 
 Laert^ T 
 
 monimentac^ T C 
 
 grecis T 
 
 germani^ T 
 
 rhetie(j T, rhetiaeque b, R^ti^que B, rgtiaeque c, 
 reti^q; C 
 
 que T 
 
 4, 1 Germaniae 
 
 2 conubiis 
 
 6 caerulei 
 
 6 rutilae 
 
 7 valida 
 
 9 tdlerare 
 
 10 assuerunt * 
 
 germanie T corr. in germani^ T' 
 
 conubiis T B b C c 
 
 cerulei Tc, c^rulei C, ceruli b, ceruli (t lei supra 
 
 versutn) B 
 rutil^ T 
 
 vallida [in valida correxit T ') T 
 tollerare T C 
 assueveriit TCc, assuerunt (t int supra versuni) B 
 
 5, 1 
 2 
 
 7 
 7 
 
 specie 
 foeda 
 
 eaeque 
 
 gratissimae 
 10 Germaniae 
 12 baud 
 
 15 commerciorum 
 17 nostrae pecuniae 
 
 20 quoque magis quam 
 
 21 affectione 
 
 speijji (spem corr. in spei?T') T, spe~C, spetie c 
 
 feda T B b 
 
 e^(j T b, Eeque B, eatq ; C, eatque c 
 
 gratissime T 
 
 gemanie T 
 
 aut TC 
 
 comertioy T, commertiorum Co 
 
 nre pecunie T 
 
 magisq T 
 
 affectatione TBb, affectione Cc 
 
 ^ Confirmare ^-er^w/jj (5, id ed. M.\ fol. iv claudit. 
 
 221
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Gekmania of Tacitus 
 
 6, 1 
 
 lie ferrum quidem 
 
 ue ferrum (q addidit T*) T 
 
 5 
 
 comminus 
 
 cominus T b 
 
 10 
 
 clistinguuiit 
 
 distingut T B b C c 
 
 11 
 
 galea 
 
 galee T B b C c 
 
 12 
 
 variare 
 
 uarietate T b, variare B C c 
 
 16 
 
 aestimanti 
 
 extiuianti T, estimati B, estimati b, existimanti Cc 
 
 17 
 
 proeliantur 
 
 preliaiitiir T 
 
 18 
 
 peditum 
 
 peditum (e siijjrct addidit T ') T 
 
 25 
 
 proeliis 
 
 preliis T 
 
 28 
 
 siiperstites 
 
 Bupstes T 
 
 7, G 
 
 lie verberare 
 
 neq^ verberare T 
 
 7 
 
 poeiiam 
 
 penam T B 
 
 7 
 
 iiissii 
 
 iuxu T 
 
 7 
 
 velut 
 
 velud T, veluti C 
 
 9 
 
 effigiesque 
 
 Effigies T 
 
 9 
 
 detracta 
 
 de tracta T 
 
 11 
 
 fortuita 
 
 fortuiia T corr. in fortuita T' 
 
 16 illae 
 16 et* 
 
 ille T C 
 
 aut TBb, et Cc 
 
 8, 4 
 
 comminus 
 
 7 uubiles 
 
 9 consilia 
 
 9 
 
 11 
 
 iieglegunt 
 Albruuam 
 
 13 
 
 tamquam 
 
 2 
 3 
 
 litare 
 
 Martem et Herculem 
 
 4 
 
 6 
 
 Sueborum 
 liburnao 
 
 8 
 8 
 9 
 
 speciem 
 
 assimulare 
 
 caelestium 
 
 comiu^ TCb 
 
 nobiles T B C c, nobiles b 
 
 consilio T 
 
 negligiit T b C c, neglegunt B 
 
 Aurinia (Albrunam sive Albriniam in mnrg.) T, auri- 
 niam B b C, fluriniam c, sed B in margine Albriniam, 
 b 1 Albriniam, c ab altera vuvin albriniam siijjra 
 adscrijitnm hahent. 
 
 tanq- T B c 
 
 litare T 
 
 Herculem & martem T, herculem ac martem Cc, et 
 
 herculem post placant B b 
 suevoit T C c b, Sueiiorum B 
 liburne T 
 
 spem T C, specie B, spetiem c 
 assimilarc T 
 celestiuiu T 
 
 10 Quidem verbum (6', ; ed. M.) fol. 2r diiudit. 
 l> Nod verbum (7, 7 ed. M.) fol. 2v clavJit. 
 
 IJ Modam verbum (S, eed. M.) fol. 3r claudit. 
 
 222
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 10, 5 
 
 fortuito 
 
 10 
 
 eundem 
 
 12 
 
 interrogare 
 
 13 
 
 praesagia 
 
 22 
 
 exploratur* 
 
 24 
 
 popularium 
 
 25 
 
 praeiudifio 
 
 11, 2 
 
 omnes 
 
 4 
 
 incidit 
 
 5 
 
 incohatur 
 
 10 
 
 nee ut iussi 
 
 11 
 
 coeuntium 
 
 12 
 
 absumitur 
 
 12 
 
 turba* 
 
 13 
 
 turn 
 
 15 
 
 aetas 
 
 12, 2 
 
 distinctio 
 
 7 
 
 flagitia 
 
 7 
 
 abscond! 
 
 8 
 
 poena 
 
 9 
 
 mulctae 
 
 11 
 
 conciliis 
 
 13 
 
 ex plebe 
 
 14 
 
 assunt 
 
 13, 1 
 
 publicae 
 
 1 
 
 privatae 
 
 4 
 
 turn in 
 
 4 
 
 vel pater vel 
 
 
 propinqni 
 
 7 
 
 publicae 
 
 9 
 
 adolescentulis 
 
 11 
 
 etiam 
 
 13 
 
 aemulatio 
 
 15 
 
 haec 
 
 15 
 
 hae 
 
 16 
 
 semper 
 
 16 
 
 circumdari 
 
 18 
 
 cuique 
 
 i3Coinmittunt verbum (10, 25 ed. 
 
 fortuitu T 
 
 eumdem T 
 
 interogare T 
 
 presagia T 
 
 explorant T C c, exploratur B, cor7: ex exploratur b 
 
 depopularium T 
 
 preiuditio T, pr^iuditio C, iudicio B 
 
 omes T 
 
 inciderit T 
 
 inchoatur T b C, incohatur B c 
 
 ne iniussi T 
 
 c^tuum T 
 
 assumit* T 
 
 turbe T B, turbe b C c 
 
 tamen (tantuj in mary.) T, turn c, cum C, tamen Bb 
 
 etasT 
 
 Distintio T 
 
 flagia T, flagitia C, flagicia B, supplicia b 
 
 ascondi T 
 
 penay T B, poenarum b C c 
 
 miilcte T 
 
 comitiis T 
 
 explebes T corr. in explebe T 
 
 adsut T B C 
 
 pub'^T, plu^" C 
 
 private T 
 
 Tum in T (Tum in Cum correxit ef Eum supra 
 
 addidit T"), tum in Cc et supra cum c', cum in B b 
 ut ipsi ut propinqni (ipsi punctis delevit et in marcjine 
 
 vel pt addidit T^) T 
 p u b <= « T 
 adolescentibus T 
 et- & T 
 emulatio T 
 hecTB 
 heTB 
 semp & T 
 circuudari T 
 om. T sed in margine scripsit T* 
 
 M.) fol. 3" claudit. " Comites verbum ( 12, 1.3 etl. M.) fot. 4r clnudit. 
 
 223
 
 10 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 14, 2 vinci 
 
 2 virtutem princiins 
 
 2 adaequare 
 
 3 ac 
 
 3 probrosiim 
 
 6 praecipuum 
 
 8 otio 
 
 9 adolescentium 
 11 ancipitia 
 
 13 tuentur 
 
 14 illam 
 
 17 arare 
 
 18 exspectare 
 20 et 
 
 20 adquirere 
 
 viam T coit. in vinci T" 
 
 virtute principe T 
 
 adequare T, equare C c 
 
 07n. T sed in marg. scripsit T* 
 
 probosiim T 
 
 precipuum T 
 
 ocio T B b 
 
 adolesceutu T 
 
 ancipiatia T cori: in ancipitia T' 
 
 tuere T sed a supra addidit T", tuent^ B, tuetur b, 
 
 tueare C c et reliqui omnes 
 illamc^ T 
 
 araf T, ar"are ( = arrare) C 
 expectare T B C c 
 oin. T sed in nuirg. & addidif T" 
 acquirere T B C c 
 
 15, 2 otium 
 5 feminis 
 
 ocium T B b 
 feminis T 
 
 16, 1 populis 
 2 ue pati 
 4 locant 
 
 5 conexis 
 
 5 et 
 
 5 cohaerentibus 
 
 6 circumdat 
 
 7 caementorum 
 9 Bpcciem 
 
 12 imitetur 
 
 12 supterraneos 
 
 14 hiemis 
 
 16 aperta 
 
 16 populatur 
 
 17 ignorantur 
 
 p p 1 o s T corr. in p p 1 i s T* 
 
 nepati T 
 
 locant [in marg. Long ant) T, longant (super 
 lineam \ locant) B, looant sed supra et infra secun- 
 dum o liturn, vt fnisse videatiir logant <teste Muel- 
 lenhoffio) b, in margine Locant /3 
 
 connexis T B b C c 
 
 om. T sed sujoer versnm supplevit T* 
 
 coherentibus T 
 
 circundat T B c 
 
 cementoy T 
 
 spetiem T c, spem C, spetie B 
 
 imitent~ T c immitet* C 
 
 sb^teraneos T, sb''t'aneos C, subterraneos c, supter- 
 raneos B b 
 
 hyemi T B C, hieaii b c 
 
 aperta T ( u super lineam addidit T") 
 
 populatio T 
 
 ignoranter T 
 
 '5 Petunt verlum (H. iied. M.) ful. *v claudit 
 
 "Phalerae vcrhum (J.i, 13 ed. M.) fol. ir cliiudit. 
 
 224
 
 Frank Fkust Abkott 
 
 11 
 
 17, 3 locupletissimi 
 3 distinguuntur 
 G neglegenter 
 
 
 7 
 
 commercia 
 
 
 9 
 
 beluarum 
 
 
 10 
 
 feminis 
 
 
 11 
 
 feminae 
 
 
 11 
 
 amictibus 
 
 18, 
 
 , 3 
 
 singulis 
 
 
 10 
 
 in 
 
 
 10 
 
 haec 
 
 
 12 
 
 haec 
 
 
 16 
 
 periculorumque 
 
 
 19 
 
 denuntiant 
 
 
 19 
 
 vivendum 
 
 
 19 
 
 pereundum 
 
 
 21 
 
 rursusque 
 
 19 
 
 , 1 
 
 saepta 
 
 
 3 
 
 feminae 
 
 
 5 
 
 praesens 
 
 
 9 
 
 aetata 
 
 
 9 
 
 invenerit 
 
 
 11 
 
 saecuhim 
 
 
 16 
 
 taniquam 
 
 
 17 
 
 finire 
 
 
 17 
 
 quemquam 
 
 20, 
 
 , 1 
 
 ac 
 
 
 2 
 
 quemque 
 
 
 3 
 
 aut 
 
 
 5 
 
 deliciis 
 
 
 5 
 
 dignoscas 
 
 
 7 
 
 inexhausta 
 
 
 U 
 
 taniquam 
 
 
 14 
 
 animum 
 
 
 16 
 
 si 
 
 Locuplectissimi T 
 
 distinguntur T B b c, dixtlgut" C 
 
 negligentiT T B b c, neglegenter corr. ex -ut~ C 
 
 comertia T, commertia C c, corr. i in c b 
 
 belluarum T 
 
 foeminis T 
 
 foemine T 
 
 admictibus T 
 
 singlis T 
 
 im T corr. in in T ' 
 
 hecTB 
 
 hec T 
 
 periculoy T 
 
 renuptiaut (?) T, denuciant B 
 
 uiuentes T 
 
 parientes T, pariendum B c, pereundum b, piedum C 
 
 rursus que T, rursus quae c, rursusq C 
 
 septa T, septa cum lUnra supra lineoni b, sc^{)ta V 
 
 femine T 
 
 presens T 
 
 etate T 
 
 invenit (= invenerit) T, invenit Cc 
 
 seculum T 
 
 tanq T B 
 
 finere T corr. in finire T' 
 
 quenq T B c, queq ; C 
 
 atcjT 
 
 qnc^ T, quenqvie c 
 
 ac T C c, aut B b 
 
 delitiis T C c 
 
 dinoscas T B C 
 
 in exaucta T 
 
 tanq T 
 
 in aium T B b C c 
 
 sed T corr. in si T " 
 
 17 Pellibusque vcrbuni (J7, ,'* ed. .U.) fol. ov claudit. 
 
 18 Litteraruni rerhuiu (79, .j ett. ^f. ) fol. t;y claudit. 
 
 i^Auimuni verbuin (20, 14ed. M.)/ol. 6v claudit. 
 
 225
 
 12 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 20, 
 
 18 
 
 quo* 
 
 
 19 
 
 gratiosior 
 
 21, 
 
 . 2 
 
 implacabiles 
 
 
 8 
 
 quemcumque 
 
 
 14 
 
 hospitis 
 
 
 17 
 
 vinclum 
 
 
 18 
 
 comitas 
 
 22, 
 
 1 
 
 e somno 
 
 
 2 
 
 saepius 
 
 
 3 
 
 hiems 
 
 
 7 
 
 vinolentos 
 
 
 8 
 
 conviciis 
 
 
 8 
 
 caede 
 
 
 10 
 
 asciscendis 
 
 
 12 
 
 tamquam 
 
 
 14 
 
 nee 
 
 23, 
 
 6 
 
 indulseris 
 
 2i, 
 
 1 
 
 coetu 
 
 
 2 
 
 nudi iuvenes 
 
 
 4 
 
 quaestum 
 
 
 10 
 
 vohmtariam 
 
 
 13 
 
 condicioiiis 
 
 
 13 
 
 commercia 
 
 
 15 
 
 exolvant 
 
 25, 
 
 1 
 
 discriptis* 
 
 
 4 
 
 et 
 
 
 5 
 
 officia 
 
 
 6 
 
 verberare 
 
 
 6 
 
 vinculis 
 
 
 9 
 
 est 
 
 
 11 
 
 dumtaxat 
 
 
 11 
 
 iis 
 
 26, 
 
 1 
 
 fenus 
 
 
 3 
 
 in vices 
 
 tanto TBC, propiqores quoyC, quo c et in litura 
 )S, quanto MucUcnhoffius, D. A., p. 325 
 
 gratiosior (gratior in marg.) T, gratiosior (t gratior 
 supra) /8 c^ 
 
 implacabiles T, iplicabiles C 
 
 quencunc^ T B 
 
 hospititis T corr. in hospitis T ' 
 
 Victus T B b C c 
 
 comis T B b C c 
 
 • N • somno T, e somno C c /3, enim somno B b 
 
 sepius T 
 
 hyemis T, liyems B C 
 
 viaulentos T, vi nuletos C 
 
 conuitiis T B C c 
 
 cedv T 
 
 adsciscendis TBC 
 
 tanq T B 
 
 aut T 
 
 in dulseris T 
 
 c§tu T C, cetu B 
 
 Nudi iuuenes Niidi iuiienes T 
 
 questum T b C c 
 
 voluptariam T 
 
 conditionis T B C c 
 
 comertia T, comertia C c, comercia /3 
 
 exolvat (= exolvant?) T 
 
 descriptis T libri 
 
 ut T B b, et C c /3 
 
 offitia T C c 
 
 Verberant T 
 
 vingculis T corr. in vinculis T ' 
 
 om. T 
 
 duntaxat T 
 
 hisT 
 
 Foenus T b C c 
 
 inuices"" T, in uicea B, inuice b, uices C, uices c 
 
 SOCapiuntrerftum (2i, X ed. MAfnl. irvhiudit. 
 " luter vcrbum (24, 2 ed. M.) /ol. 7v claudit. 
 
 '^ Dignationem verbum. (26, ial. M.) fol. urclaudil. 
 
 226
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 13 
 
 prestant {in marg. prebent) T, prestant (t prebent supra) 
 
 B, pracbcnt c, pbet b, pstat C 
 laborani (in marg. labore) T, labore (in marg. \ labo- 
 
 rare) B, laborare (t \a.hoT~ siq}ra) b, labore Cc (1 rare 
 siq)ra scripsit c '') 
 ut T B b c, et C /3 
 terre T 
 
 Bpeties T c, sp^s B C 
 Hyems T B C c ' 
 estas T 
 
 coloribus T 
 
 equis T, equs c, eq^ C 
 
 adiicitur T B b, adjicitur c, adicitur C 
 
 cespes T b C c 
 
 Foeminis T 
 
 HecT 
 
 comue T, comuni C 
 
 orrigine T 
 
 comigraviut T 
 
 auctoy T, auctoru C c, autor B b 
 
 BoiT 
 
 boihemi T, Boihemi {t Boijemione //( marg.) B, boieiui 
 
 b, boiemi C, bohemi post nomen c 
 
 abois T, a boiis B b C c, osis in marg. /3 
 
 Neruli T B C c, neruli b 
 
 tanq T B 
 
 Nubii T B C c, iiubii b, ubij margo /3 
 
 Ibentius T corr. in libentius T ^ 
 
 Aggrijjineses T 
 
 orrigine T 
 
 collati T, conlocati B 
 
 Batauii T B C c, batdui b 
 
 Cathoy T, cattorum b, cattorum B, chattorum C c 
 condam T 
 populis T C c 
 ante T 
 
 collationibus [in marg. collocationib) T, collocationi- 
 bus B ei supra collationibus c*' 
 
 13 Utraquo verbum C2S, Sed. U.) fol. 8v claudit. 
 
 227 
 
 26, 6 
 
 praebent 
 
 7 
 
 labore 
 
 9 
 
 et 
 
 9 
 
 terrae 
 
 11 
 
 species 
 
 11 
 
 liiems 
 
 11 
 
 aestas 
 
 27, 3 
 
 odoribns 
 
 4 
 
 equus 
 
 4 
 
 adicitur 
 
 5 
 
 caespes 
 
 8 
 
 feminis 
 
 10 
 
 liaec 
 
 10 
 
 commune 
 
 10 
 
 origine 
 
 13 
 
 commigraverir 
 
 28, 1 
 
 avxctor 
 
 8 
 
 Boii 
 
 9 
 
 Boihaemi 
 
 11 
 
 ab Osis 
 
 16 
 
 Nervii 
 
 17 
 
 tamquam 
 
 21 
 
 ne Ubii 
 
 22 
 
 libentius 
 
 22 
 
 Agrippinenses 
 
 23 
 
 origine 
 
 25 
 
 collocati 
 
 29, 1 
 
 Batavi 
 
 3 
 
 Chattorum 
 
 3 
 
 quondam 
 
 3 
 
 populus 
 
 6 
 
 antiquae 
 
 8 
 
 collationibus
 
 u 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania or Tacitus 
 
 29, 8 proelioruin 
 
 l-t cetera 
 
 14 similes 
 
 14 Batavis 
 
 18 Danuvinmque 
 
 19 decumates 
 
 20 dubiae 
 
 90 
 
 pr 
 
 aesidiis 
 
 22 pars 
 
 22 provinciae 
 
 30, 1 Chatti 
 
 2 incohant 
 
 4 Chattos 
 
 6 art us 
 
 8 soUertiae 
 
 8 praeponere 
 
 8 praepositos 
 
 9 iiitellegere 
 9 occasiones 
 
 12 Komanae 
 
 12 disciplinae 
 
 14 in pedite 
 
 16 Chattos 
 
 prelioy T 
 
 cetera T sed i supra a j^osifa esse videfur T^ 
 
 si miles T corr. in similes T ' 
 
 Bactauis T 
 
 Dannubiumc^ T, danubiumque B b c, danuuiumque C 
 
 Decumathes TBc 
 
 dubie T 
 
 presidiis T 
 
 par T 
 
 prouincie T 
 
 cati T, catti b C, cliatti B c 
 
 inchoant T C, incohant c, i cohat B, inchoat b, inchoat 
 
 et post t litura /3 
 cathos T, cattos b, chattos B c, cactos C 
 arctus T, arc*^ C c 
 Bolerti^TCcb 
 preponere T 
 prepositos T 
 intelligere T B b C c 
 occioes (in marg. occasiones) T 
 roe T, roe C, romane B, romang b, ratione c /3, rations 
 
 Miiellcnlioffius, D. A., p. 411 
 discipline T 
 
 impedite T corr. in in pedite T' 
 cathos T, cattos b 
 
 31, 1 raro 
 
 2 Chattos 
 
 2 consensum 
 
 7 pretia nascendi 
 
 7 rettulisse 
 
 11 caede 
 
 11 Chattorum 
 
 14 haec 
 
 17 ad quemque 
 
 18 contemptores 
 18 durae 
 
 raro T, raro b C, rara B, rara c 
 
 cathos T, cattos b, cattos C 
 
 conventum T 
 
 pretiaf nascendi T, nbscendi B, nascendi c, noscendi b C 
 
 retulisse T lihri 
 
 ced^ T, cede B 
 
 cathoy T, cattorum b 
 
 hecT 
 
 adquenc^ T, ad quenque b c 
 
 conteptores T, contentores C 
 
 dure T 
 
 32, 1 Chattis 
 
 cathis T, cattis b 
 
 liMagnitndo vtrhum (19. II ed. U.)fol. iir <((iurfi(. 
 
 2' Pngna tvrlmm (30, n eii. M.) /o( sv rlaudit. 
 
 228
 
 Frank Fkost Abbott 
 
 15 
 
 32, 3 solitum 
 
 4 praecellimt 
 
 4 Chattos 
 
 6 infantium 
 
 7 liaec 
 9 iiatu 
 
 33, 4 praedae 
 6 proelii 
 
 (') iiividere 
 
 'J quaeso 
 
 10 iirgentibus 
 
 34, 1 Dulgubnii 
 
 35, 
 
 2 
 
 Chasuarii 
 
 4 
 
 Frisiis 
 
 5 
 
 praetexuntur 
 
 6 
 
 immensos 
 
 6 
 
 insuper 
 
 7 
 
 classibus 
 
 8 
 
 ilia 
 
 8 
 
 temptavimus* 
 
 9 
 
 volgavit 
 
 10 
 
 quidquid 
 
 10 
 
 magnificum 
 
 11 
 
 consensimus 
 
 11 
 
 Druso 
 
 13 
 
 temptavit* 
 
 1 
 
 in septentrionem 
 
 2 
 
 ac primo 
 
 3 
 
 incipiat 
 
 3 
 
 Fi-isiis 
 
 4 
 
 litoris 
 
 5 
 
 optenditur 
 
 5 
 
 in Chattos 
 
 solium solitum (solium punctis infra positis delevit 
 
 T')T 
 precelluiit T 
 Cathos T. cattos b 
 
 infanctium T {corr. iit infantium T ') 
 hecT 
 natui T {curr. in uatu T^) 
 
 pred§ 
 
 prelii T 
 
 07n. T 
 
 queso T 
 
 urgentibus iam T B b, i urgentib C, in urgentibus c et 
 
 supra \ igentib^ c^ 
 Dulgicubuni (dulgibnii maryo) T, duigitubini b, 
 
 Dulgibini (e< supra 1 duigitubini) B, dulgibini C c 
 
 et supra dulcubuni c' 
 Thasuarii T B, tasuarii b, occasuarii C, cliasudrii c 
 frisis T B c et in marg. /3, friscis C, frisiis b 
 pretexuntur T 
 in mensos T 
 in super T 
 claxibus T 
 ilia (illis mar<io) T 
 tcntauimus T C c, tetauimus B b 
 uulgauit T b, uolgauit B C, uoligauit c 
 quic(| T lihri 
 magnum T, maguu; B, maguiticum Cc ct in. litura /3, 
 
 magn in maryine /3 
 consensimus (cosuevim'' margo) T 
 Durso T corr. in. Druso T ' 
 tentauit T B c, tetauit b, temptauit C 
 
 Inseptemtrioue T 
 
 A primo T corr in Ac primo T' 
 
 incipiant T 
 
 Frisis TBbCc 
 
 littoris T 
 
 obtendit~ T B, optenditur b, obtendere C c 
 
 in chatos T, incattos b, incaptos C 
 
 26Equitum vei'bum {.^2, 5 erf. M.)fol. lur claudit. 
 
 "Quicquid verbuin {oi, 10 ed. M.) fot. lOr claudit. 
 
 229
 
 1() 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Gekmania of Tacitus 
 
 35, 6 
 
 simietur 
 
 6 
 
 immensum 
 
 7 
 
 et implent 
 
 13 
 
 iniurias 
 
 36, 1 
 
 Chattorumqiie 
 
 2 
 
 EC 
 
 2 
 
 inlacessiti 
 
 4 
 
 inpotentes 
 
 5 
 
 nomina 
 
 7 
 
 Chattis 
 
 8 
 
 tracti 
 
 9 
 
 adversarum 
 
 9 
 
 aequo 
 
 9 
 
 socii 
 
 10 
 
 fuissent 
 
 37, 1 
 
 sinum 
 
 2 
 
 tenent 
 
 3 
 
 famae 
 
 i 
 
 ambitu 
 
 6 
 
 sescentesimum 
 
 8 
 
 Caecilio 
 
 8 
 
 ac* 
 
 8 
 
 Papirio 
 
 8 
 
 consiilibus 
 
 9 
 
 si 
 
 10 
 
 consulatiim 
 
 11 
 
 Germania 
 
 14 
 
 saepius 
 
 16 
 
 caedem 
 
 16 
 
 et ipse 
 
 17 
 
 obiecerit 
 
 18 
 
 et Scauro 
 
 19 
 
 Caepione 
 
 19 
 
 Gnaeoque 
 
 20 
 
 populo Komano 
 
 24 
 
 Caesaris 
 
 sinuet" (sinat" margo) T, sinatur C c, sinuetur B b 
 
 in mensum T 
 
 implet" T, et implent B et implet C 
 
 Iniuriam T 
 
 catlioyc^ T, cattorumque b 
 
 &^° (ac supra lineam scvipto) T 
 
 illacessiti T 
 
 potentis T, inpotentes b C e, i potentis B 
 
 nomine T B b C c 
 
 Chattis T, cattis b 
 
 Tacti T B b C, tracti c 
 
 aduersarum (adnsariis margo) T, aduersanmi (\ ad- 
 
 uersariis) B b, adu-'sarium C 
 equo T 
 
 sotii T c, sunt socii C 
 f uiss^ ( = fuissent ?) T 
 
 situm T B b, sinum C c 
 
 tenent- T 
 
 fameT 
 
 ambitum T, ambit um B, ambitum Cc 
 
 Sexcentesimum T c, sesc-B b, sec- C 
 
 Cecilio T 
 
 & T B b, ac C c 
 
 Sapirio T B, papirio C c, Sapyrio b 
 
 coss : T, cons b, conss /?, eos C 
 
 ovi. T 
 
 conuentum T, con' B 
 
 in Gei-mania T 
 
 sepius T 
 
 cedem T B 
 
 & ipo & Tpe T B b Cc 
 
 obiecerunt T, obicit" C 
 
 Scauro T 
 
 Cepione T ^j 
 
 Marcoc^ T, Marcoq ; (= Marcoquoque vel Marcoque) B, 
 
 miq (= miquoque) C, M. c, marco q^c^ b 
 populi Romani T B b C c 
 Cesaris T 
 
 '^8 Vocantnr vcrhuin {:in, 7 ed. M.) /ot. llr claiitiit. 
 
 5'' Italia verhuiii (.'.v, 22 ed. M. I /..(. w cliittdit. 
 
 230
 
 Frank Feost Abbott 
 
 n 
 
 37, 25 minae mine T 
 
 25 versae om. T 
 
 25 inde otium inde ocium T B b, in otium C 
 
 27 hibernis hybernis T B C 
 
 28 ac rursus inde pulsi ac rursus pulsi inde (nam margo) f)ximi8 T, ac rursus 
 
 t na 
 
 proximis pulsi inde proximis B, ac rursus inde pulsi proximis 
 
 b, ac rursus pulsi nam proximis c, ac & expulsi rur- 
 sus Ide proximis (J 
 
 Suevis T B b C c ct uhiqiie similiter 
 cathoy T 
 
 r 
 
 Tenctetoy ve (Tenctetorum corr. in Tencterorum T ') T 
 
 obtin& T C, obtinent c 
 
 q T B, q ; cj ; C c, quain 1) 
 
 comuui T, comune C 
 
 eicut (Sic margo) T 
 
 servoy T 
 
 quid T 
 
 Bep§ T 
 
 iuuente T 
 
 sepe T 
 
 in solo (in ipo margo; sigyio | • ante solo apposito) T, 
 
 1 ipso 
 
 in solo B, in ipso (solo supra adscripsit /3) h, in ipso 
 
 solo C c 
 vertice T B b C c 
 forme T 
 
 innoxie T B b c, inopig C 
 compti ut T B b C, compti et c 
 
 1 ornantur arm 
 
 armantur (onant~ margo) T, armantur B, ornantur b, 
 ornantur C c, armantur supra c" 
 
 I Seijones m 
 
 Semones (Semnones margo) T, Semones B, senones b, 
 
 semones C c 
 Statute (Stato tpe margo) T 
 patrium T B b C, patrum /9, patruum c 
 sacrum T B b C c, sacram /S 
 oins (nomis t nuniis margo) T, omnis C c, omnes B b 
 
 sed sujira adscripto I nois t numinis B, 1 uominis c" 
 eiusdem(j T B 
 
 38, 1 
 
 Suebis 
 
 2 
 
 Cliattorum 
 
 2 
 
 Tencterorumve 
 
 3 
 
 optinent 
 
 4 
 
 quamquam 
 
 4 
 
 commune 
 
 6 
 
 sic 
 
 7 
 
 Sueborum 
 
 9 
 
 quod 
 
 9 
 
 saepe 
 
 10 
 
 iuventae 
 
 12 
 
 saepe 
 
 12 
 
 in ipso solo 
 
 12 
 
 vertici* 
 
 13 
 
 foi-mae 
 
 13 
 
 innoxia 
 
 15 
 
 comptiuB 
 
 16 
 
 ornantur* 
 
 39, 1 
 
 Semnones 
 
 3 
 
 stato tempore 
 
 3 
 
 patrum 
 
 4 
 
 sacram 
 
 4 
 
 omnes 
 
 4 
 
 eiusdem 
 
 ^'''SaDguioi? verbum (o,'>, 4ed. M.) fol. 12^' cUiudit. 
 
 •231
 
 18 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 39, 6 horrenda 
 
 13 adicit 
 
 13 Semnonum 
 
 14 habitant* 
 14 corpore 
 
 40, 1 nobilitat 
 
 2 cincti 
 
 3 proeliis 
 
 5 Suardones 
 
 5 Nuithoiies 
 
 7 Nerthum 
 
 10 eo 
 
 12 intellegit 
 
 13 feminis 
 
 13 laeti 
 
 14 quaecumque 
 
 15 sumunt 
 
 1() pax et quies 
 
 20 servi 
 
 horrentia T 
 
 Adiicit T B b C c 
 
 Semonum (Semnonuj margo) T, Semonu (t sennonu 
 
 m 
 
 siipra) B, senonum b, semnonum C c 
 habitant-T B b C c 
 corpore (tempore margo) T, corpore (\ tempore supra) 
 
 B, corpore b, corpore C c 
 
 nobilitas T B b C, nobilitat c 
 
 cuncti T 
 
 pr^liis T 
 
 Suarines (Suardones margo) T, Suarines B b C c, denes 
 
 supra ines adscripsit /8, suardones cod. Hummel, et 
 
 nan nulli alii 
 Nuitones T, Nuithones Be, uuitones C, uurtones b, i 
 supra r ^ 
 
 u 
 
 Nertum T, Nerthum c, nethum C, Neithu B, neithum 
 
 b, r supra i /3 
 eaTBbCc 
 intelligit T B b C c 
 f^sminis T 
 Leti T 
 quecuc^ T 
 
 sumunt T, sumut B, sumut C 
 pax ^ quies (& supra liueam add if o T') T 
 Sevi T corr. in Servi T' 
 
 41, 1 liaeo 
 
 1 Sueborum 
 
 2 Germaiiiae 
 
 2 propior 
 
 3 Danuvium 
 
 3 Hermundurorum 
 
 5 commercium 
 
 6 Raetiae 
 
 7 passim 
 
 42, 1 Varisti 
 
 2 praecipua 
 
 hec T 
 
 verboy TBbCc 
 
 germanie T corr. in germani^ T' 
 
 tri 
 
 proprior Tc, propior B 
 Danubium Tbc, Danuuium BC 
 Hermundoy T 
 
 comertium TC, comertiu Bo 
 Rheti? Tb, Retie B, reti§ Co 
 passum T corr. in passim T' 
 
 Narisci T, Naristi Bbc, Narisci in margined, maristi C 
 precipua T 
 
 3iQuiesluQC tuuturi) veflia(4o. Ui(icLAf.}fol. 12'' clautlunt. 
 
 232
 
 Fkank Fkost Abbott 
 
 19 
 
 42, 13 ipsa etiam 
 
 43, 
 
 3 
 
 Boiis 
 
 4 
 
 Varisti 
 
 5 
 
 Germaniae 
 
 5 
 
 Danuvio 
 
 6 
 
 praecingitur 
 
 7 
 
 manserunt* 
 
 8 
 
 Tudri 
 
 10 
 
 saepius 
 
 1 
 
 Cotini 
 
 2 
 
 claudunt 
 
 3 
 
 Cotinos 
 
 7 
 
 Cotini 
 
 7 
 
 effodiunt 
 
 10 
 
 Suebiam 
 
 12 
 
 Lygiorum 
 
 14 Helvaeonas 
 
 15 Nahanarvalos 
 
 15 apnd Nahanarualos 
 15 religionis 
 
 16 praesidet 
 
 21 Harii 
 
 22 truces 
 
 23 feritati 
 26 sustinente 
 28 Gotones 
 
 28 regnantur 
 
 29 adductius 
 81 Lemovii 
 
 44, 1 ipso * 
 
 1 Oceano 
 
 et & ipa (& lineola indueta delevit et signa transposi- 
 tionis supra, (itiam et ipsa addidit T') T, etiam ipsa b 
 Bois TBCc, boiis b 
 narisci T, Naristi Bbc, maristi C 
 Germanie T 
 
 danubio Tbc, danuuio B C 
 peragit-TBbCc 
 
 mansere TB, manser" b, manserunt Cc 
 Trudi T 
 sepius T 
 
 Gotini TBbCc 
 claudiut T 
 GotinosTBbCc 
 Gotini T B b, Cotini C c 
 effodunt T 
 sueviam T B b C c 
 
 ly i 
 
 Legiorum T, Legiorum B, legiorum b (Ligij rn nKn-ijinc 
 
 1 ue 
 
 /8), leugiorum C, legiorum cc" 
 heluetonas (halosionas margo) T, Heluetonas B, lielue- 
 
 h 
 
 conas b, eluheconas C, Heueconas cc^ 
 
 t naharualos 
 
 Nahanarulos (naharualos margo) T, Nahanarualos B, 
 
 naliarualos b, nahanarualos C, nachanarualos c 
 Apd Naharualos T B b, nacharualos C c 
 religionis (regionis margo) T, religionis B b, regionis 
 
 Cc 
 Presid& T 
 alilTBbCc 
 
 trucis TBC, trucis (a puncto deleta) b, trucis c 
 feriati T 
 Sb^stinete T c 
 Gothones T B b C c 
 regnat TBC, regnant b, regnantur c 
 adductus T, aductius C 
 lemouii Tb, u supra n posnif, sed in inargine Lemonii 
 
 /3, Lemouii BCc 
 ipe T B, ipsae b, ipo C c 
 occeanum T, oceanum B b, no supra adscripsit /3, 
 
 occeano C c 
 
 S'Regibus verbnin {42, 9 ed. M.)fol. i:i'' clauiUt 
 
 '3 Ipsaque verhum {43, 25 ed. M.) fol. 13" claudit. 
 
 233
 
 20 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 •i-i, 1 praeter 
 
 3 utrinque 
 
 4 ministrant 
 10 clausa 
 
 12 otiosae 
 
 preter T 
 
 utrim(j T, utriq ; C 
 
 ministrat- T B b C c 
 
 causa T 
 
 Ociosa T B b, occiosa C, otiosa c 
 
 1 immotum 
 
 ■i ortum* 
 
 4 edurat 
 
 4 sidera hebetet 
 
 5 equorum 
 
 6 adicit 
 
 8 Suebici 
 
 8 Aestiorum 
 
 9 adluuntur 
 10 Britannicae 
 10 propior 
 
 17 sucinum 
 
 17 glaesum 
 
 18 litore 
 
 18 quae 
 
 19 quaeve 
 19 quaesitum 
 
 22 perfertur * 
 
 23 sucum 
 
 24 intellegas 
 
 27 igitur 
 
 28 tura 
 
 29 terrisque . . . 
 
 30 radiis 
 32 litora 
 
 32 exundaut 
 
 32 Bucini 
 
 33 temptes 
 33 taedae 
 
 solis 
 
 imotum T, inmotum C 
 
 ortus T C c, ortum B b 
 
 edura T corr. in edurat T ' 
 
 heb& & (hebet et expunxit et sydera liebet& ('/* marcjine 
 
 addidit T ') T 
 deoy (eoy margo) T, deorum B b C c, eoru cod. Stutt- 
 
 garfiensis, cod. Vindobonrusis 
 <7S])icit adiicit (aspicit j^'incfis dcleto) T, adiicit B b C c 
 Seuici (Sueuici margo) T, seuici b, Saeuici B C c, 
 
 supra t sueuici Be ', sueuici et in margine suionici /3 
 Aestyoy T, Aestiorum B C c, estiorum b, etlu supra 
 
 scripsit et in margine eflui /3 
 abluunt" T B b, alluuntur c, adluuntur C 
 Britanic^ T, britanice C 
 proprior T 
 
 succinu T b, sucinum B C c 
 glesum T B b C c 
 littore T B C c 
 que T 
 
 que ue (uo margo) T 
 quesitum T 
 profertur T, pfertur b 
 Succum T b C c, sucum B 
 intelligas T B b C c 
 ergo T 
 thura T c 
 ow. T 
 
 radius T B b C, radiis c 
 littora oniissum scripsit in margine T ' 
 exsudant T c, exudant C 
 Buccini T b C, suciui B c 
 tentesT, tetesBbCc 
 tede T, tedae b c 
 
 '* Quod verbuin i i:>. 3 etl. M.) ful. N'' claudit. 
 
 3'' Tern. syUaha prima toinpostatuin vertfi (^.», 31 ed. M.) 
 fol. M>' claudit. 
 
 234
 
 Frank Fkost Abbott 
 
 21 
 
 45, 3B Suionibus 
 
 37 differunt 
 
 46 1 hie Suebiae finis 
 
 5 torpor 
 
 6 coiuibiis 
 6 mixtis 
 
 8 quidquid 
 
 11 figunt 
 
 11 pedum 
 
 13 sunt 
 
 14 foeda 
 
 15 herba 
 
 16 Bolae 
 16 sagittis 
 
 16 inopia 
 
 17 idemque 
 19 praedae 
 23 inlaborare 
 25 difficillimam 
 27 Oxionas 
 
 Si uouibus T corr. in Suionibus T ^ 
 differl T, differunt" C 
 
 I sueup saeuae 
 
 Hie Suevi^ fines T, hie sueuie (Sueui^ B, sueuiae c c ') 
 
 fines B C 0, hi sueui§ fines b 
 tomjjore torpor (tempore jumdis deleto) T 
 conubiis T B b c 
 mixtos T B c, mistos b, o pnncto delevit et i supra 
 
 mhcripsit /3 
 quic(] T B b c 
 fingunt T C c, figunt B b 
 
 peditum To, pecudum B b, corr. in peditum/9 
 om. T 
 feda T B 
 erba T 
 SolaT 
 sagiptis T 
 in opia T 
 Idem T 
 pred§ T 
 illaborare T 
 
 difEcilimam T, difficillimam C c, difficilem B b 
 oxionas (etionas niaryo) T, Oxionas (letionas s»pra) B, 
 
 oxionas be, t etionas supra yS, exionas C, Etionas 
 
 Mudlenhoffius, D. A. p. 517 
 uultus(j T b C c, uoltusque B 
 & corpora T C c 
 o>». T 
 
 28 voltusque 
 
 28 corpora 
 
 29 ego 
 
 Cornelii Taciti De Origine Et Situ Germanorum Liber Explicit B 
 : (:>o : CO : oo Finit b 
 finis : OeXoa- C 
 oo T e\ o) 9 c 
 : oo T e \ ojo" 
 
 FVLGINIE SCEIPTVM GERENTE ME 
 KAL'. IVN- 1474 T 
 
 MAGISTRATVM PV ■ SCRIBE 
 
 Attention has been called already (pp. 4, 5) to the three classes of corrections 
 which T shows. T' is the scribe himself making corrections from the MS. which he is 
 following. The doubt which an examination of the handwriting of T " and T " and of 
 the ink used by them leaves in one's mind [cf. p. 5) can best be resolved by examin- 
 
 31 Aliud i-ei;;U)» (*;, lo ed. M.) fol. 16'' chiudil. 
 
 236
 
 22 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 ing the corrections made by each of these hands. A conspectus of those made by 
 T'^ is given in the following table, and, to facilitate comparison, the readings of certain 
 other MSS. and early editions'' are also indicated. 
 
 CORRECTIONS BY SECOND HAND 
 
 
 
 Ed. Muell. 
 
 
 
 T 
 
 
 
 Ta 
 
 1, 
 
 11 
 
 septimum 
 
 septimiis 
 
 
 
 
 
 septimum enim 
 
 2, 
 
 16 
 
 Hermiuones 
 
 hermiones 
 
 Vat. 
 
 2964, 
 
 N,R 
 
 herminones 
 
 3, 
 
 13 
 
 incolitur 
 
 colitur 
 
 
 
 
 
 incolitur 
 
 B, 
 
 1 
 
 quidem 
 
 oni. 
 
 
 
 
 
 •juidem 
 
 13, 
 
 4 
 
 tum in 
 
 tum in K 
 
 
 
 
 
 cum II in (cum in Vat. 21 
 
 
 4 
 
 pater 
 
 ipsi Vat. 2964, 
 
 , K, 
 
 N 
 
 
 pater 
 
 
 18 
 
 cuique 
 
 om. K, iV 
 
 
 
 
 
 cuique 
 
 1^, 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 13 
 
 20 
 
 vinci 
 
 ac 
 
 tuentur 
 
 et 
 
 viam 
 
 om. 
 
 tuere 
 
 om. 
 
 
 
 
 
 vinci 
 
 ac 
 
 tueare R (?) (tueaf Vat. 
 
 tueantur K, N) 
 et 
 
 16, 
 
 1 
 
 5 
 1(1 
 
 populis 
 
 et 
 
 aperta 
 
 populos 
 on,. K, N 
 aperta 
 
 
 
 
 
 populis 
 
 et 
 
 non aperta 
 
 2964, 
 
 It is necessary to anticipate a conclusion reached later in this paper (rf. pp. 37 ff. ) 
 by stating at this point that T is closely related to K (or L), Vat. 2964 (Massmann's 
 Rd), the Nuremberg editions, and the Roman edition of 1474. If, therefore, the cor- 
 rections of T^ difPer from the readings of this group,'* it is apparent that he is either 
 introducing his own conjectures, or basing his corrections on some other MS. than the 
 archetype of T. An examination of the table will show that the state of things just 
 supposed is the case at 1, 11; 2, 16; 13, 4 (ipsi); 13, 18; and 16, 5. In all these cases 
 the first hand in T shows the same errors found in other members of the group, so that 
 the corrections of T" give different readings from those of the E MSS. It might be 
 assumed that T, although it was related to the MSS. and editions mentioned, belonged 
 to a collateral branch into which the errors under discussion had not entered. It is well- 
 nigh inconceivable, however, that the first hand in T and the copyist of the archetype 
 from which K, Vat. 2964, R and N are descended should have committed the same 
 errors at all of these points. The conclusion reached after an examination of these 
 readings is confirmed by a glance at the other corrections made by T". In no case 
 does he restore a reading peculiar to the E MSS. The readings of T" at 3, 13 ; 6, 1 ; 14, 2 ; 
 
 ■!' K ^ Kappianus or Longolianus (rf. Masrmann, p. 4) ; 
 R = editio Romana (r/. Massmann, ]>\i. 2T> fl,, and Tao- 
 HM^N. DcTaciti Gcrmaniac tipparatu rritico p. 2.1) N = 
 •ditio Norimbergeusis (c/. Massuann, p. 24; Tagmann, 
 
 p. 22, and MOllenuoff, Dcutsclie Altertumsktiiulc, Vol. 
 IV, pp. 689 ff. 
 
 ■''* From this point on we shall di'siynato this sroup of 
 MSS. as the E class, fullowint; MUllenhoff's nomenclature. 
 
 236
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 23 
 
 14, 3; 14, 13; 14, 20, and IG, 1 are found, it is true, in MSS. of (lie class mentioned, 
 but they also all appear in important MSS. entirely independent of that group. 
 
 eum 
 
 Special interest attaches to 1, 11; 13, 4 (cum n in); 13, 4 (pater); and 10, 16. In 
 13, 4 and 16, 10 T, in harmony with the E MSS., had i[)si and ai)erta, which T" changes 
 to pater and non aperta. In 1, 11 septimus, the reading of T is nearer septimum, the 
 reading of the E class, than septimum enim is. A similar statement may be made in 
 regard to tum in, the reading of T at 13, 4. All of the readings of T", with the excep- 
 tion of non aperta, are found in other MSS. That correction may be based on the 
 copyist's conjecture, but the others seem to be clearly taken from some other MS. 
 
 This conclusion does not carry with it the corollary that the reading of T at all 
 the points mentioned represents correctly the archetype. On the contrary, wherever 
 T" coincides with the E MSS. we should adopt its reading, not because it is the read- 
 ing of T", but because evidence from the E group makes it almost certain that the 
 archetype of T and the E MSS. had the reading in question at that point. Accord- 
 ingly we should accept incolitur, 3, 13 ; quidem, 6, 1 ; vinci, 14, 2 ; ac, 14, 3 ; tueare, 14, 
 13; et, 14, 20, and populis, 16, 1. All these are simple errors, in their first stage of 
 development, so to speak, and there is no difEculty in believing that they were made by 
 the first hand in T, and that consequently they do not represent the readings of the 
 archetype of T at these points. On the other hand, to restore the archetype of T, we 
 should adopt the reading of T at 1, 11; 2, 16; 13, 4 (turn iu); 13, 4 (ipsi); 13, 18; 
 16, 5, and 16, 16. 
 
 It may be surmised with some probability that the corrections made by T^ were 
 taken from Vindobonensis I (Massmann's W; c/. p. 21), or from some MS. very closely 
 related to it. This seems to be a natural inference from the fact that W has the read- 
 ings of T^ at all fourteen of the points cited in the table on p. 22, while, if the reports 
 of Massmann and Tagmann may be trusted, it is the only MS. which gives all three of 
 the characteristic readings, septimum enim os, 1, 11; Herminones, 2, 16; and tum eum, 
 13, 4. That Toletanus is otherwise independent of W seems clear for two reasons. It 
 does not, on the one hand, show the errors peculiar to W (e. g., erumpit, 1, 11; Ara- 
 nisci, 28, 11; Germaniae, 28, 17; and Bastranas, 46, 3), while, on the other hand, 
 abnormal forms like iuxu, 7, 7, and simple errors peculiar to T, like effigies, 7, 9; con- 
 silio, 8, 9; depopularium, 10, 24; and comitiis, 12, 11, are passed over by T^ without 
 correction. 
 
 The corrections made by T" are simpler. They are given in the following table. 
 
 CORRECTIONS BY THIRD HAND 
 
 3, 
 
 
 Ed. Muell. 
 
 
 T 
 
 
 T 
 
 5 
 
 futurae 
 
 future 
 
 
 futur^ 
 
 
 5 
 
 pugnae 
 
 pugne 
 
 
 pugn? 
 
 
 12 
 
 Germaniae 
 
 germanie 
 237 
 
 
 germanif 

 
 24 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 20, 
 
 16 
 
 si 
 
 28, 
 
 22 
 
 libentius 
 
 29, 
 
 14 
 
 cetera 
 
 
 14 
 
 similes 
 
 32, 
 
 6 
 
 infantium 
 
 
 9 
 
 natu 
 
 40, 
 
 20 
 
 sevvi 
 
 M, 
 
 2 
 
 Germaniae 
 
 45, 
 
 36 
 
 Suionibus 
 
 sed 
 Ibentius 
 
 cetera 
 
 si miles 
 
 infanctium 
 
 natui 
 
 sevi 
 
 germanie 
 
 Si iionibus 
 
 Bl 
 
 libentius 
 
 i 
 
 cetera (?) 
 
 similes 
 
 infantium 
 
 natu 
 
 servi 
 
 germanif 
 
 Suionibus 
 
 If cetera, 29, 14, be left out of account, in none of these cases is there any reason 
 for believing that T" either based his corrections on another MS., or introduced his 
 own conjectures. The mark over the final letter in cetera bears some resemblance to 
 an i, but it is doubtful if it was intended for that letter. The fact has already been 
 noticed (cf. p. 5) that the corrections of T' were made by the official corrector who 
 inserted the titles and paragraph marks, and evidently they represent the correct 
 reading of the archetype of T. 
 
 Having reached a conclusion in regard to the corrections in T, we are in a position 
 to discuss the relation of T to the other MSS. of the Germania. The errors which T 
 shows in common with the leading MSS. B b C c prove that they are all derived from 
 the same archetype. The errors common to all five are voces, 3, 7 ; videntur, 3, 7 ; 
 ACKITTVPnON, 3, 14; connubiis, 4, 2; distingunt, 6, 10; gale?, 6, 11; nobiles, 8, 7; 
 turbae, 11, 12; poenarum, 12, 8; connexis, IG, 5; in animum, 20, 14; victus, 21, 17; 
 comis, 21, 18; descriptis, 25, 1; aboiis, 28, 11; Neruli, 28, 10; Nubii, 28, 21; retulisse, 
 31, 7; quicquid, 34, 10; Frisis, 35, 3; nomine, 36, 5; et ipso et ipse, 37, 16; populi 
 Romani, 37, 20; vertice, 38, 12; innoxie (inopi§ C), 38, 13; sacrum, 39, 4; adiicit, 39, 
 13; habitantur, 39, 14; ea, 40, 10; vei-borum, 41, 1; peragitur, 42, 6; Gotini, 43, 1; 
 Gotinos, 43, 3; alii, 43, 21; Gothones, 43, 28; ministrantur, 44, 4; otiosa, 44, 12; 
 deorum, 45, 5; adiicit, 45, 6; Suevorum, 45, 9; tentes, 45, 83; and fines, 46, 1, leaving 
 out of account such deviations from the accepted orthography as Siievi, intelligere, and 
 the use of e for ae. T, therefore, like all the other extant MSS. of the Germania, 
 twenty or more in number, is a descendant of the Hersfeld MS., so-called.^' This 
 MS. was made known to scholars about 1455, and it seems to be proved now beyond 
 question that Enoch of Ascoli, who found it in Germany, brought back to Italy the 
 MS. itself, and not a copy of it, as had been commonly supposed." 
 
 ■10 Whether this MS. c<im© from Hersfeld, Corvey, or 
 elsewhere is not a matter of inomeut in this connection. 
 
 <OThis pojnt was happily settled by Sabbadiui in the 
 Rivisla di FiloUiyia, Vol. XXIX (U)01), pp. 202-1. Tier Can- 
 dido Decombrio was at the papal court, as Sabbadini 
 shows, when Enoch of Ascoli returned fr()m Germany and 
 thus describe^-i the new M.S., in so far as the Ccrinajiia is 
 concorned: **cornolii taciti liber reperitur Home visus 
 1455 dt Origine ot sita Germanie. Incipit: 'Germania 
 
 omnis a Gallis rotiisque et panoniis Rheno et tlauubio 
 fluminibus a Sarmatis dacisiiue mutuo mctu ailt montibus 
 soperatur. cetera occoauus ambil.' Opus est foliorum XII 
 in colunmellis. Finit: 'Cetera iam fabulosa helusios et 
 oxioiias ora hominuin vnltusquo corpora ati|UO artus fe- 
 rarum gororo. quod cko ut incomi>ertum in medium rclin- 
 quam.' Utitur autem Cornelius hoc voc:ibulo 'iuscicntia' 
 non ' Inscitia ' ". Our extant MSS. in the passage in ques- 
 tion (chap. 10) have inscitia, so that Dccembrio .seems to bo 
 
 238
 
 Fbank Frost Abbott 
 
 25 
 
 Having established the fact that T is descended from Hersfeldensis, let us 
 inquire into the relation which it bears to the other Gmiutnld MSS., all of which 
 have a like origin. It is now agreed on all sides that the text of the Hersfeld MS. is 
 best preserved by MSS. of the two independent classes which MttllenhofP has styled 
 B and C respectively, one of which classes is represented by Vat. 1862 (B) and 
 Leidensis (b), the other by Vat. 1518 (C) and Ncapolitanus (c). At more than one 
 hundred points these two classes of MSS. offer different readings, and a comparison of 
 T with them at these points throws a great deal of light uiion the relation which T 
 bears to each of them and to the Hersfeld MS. In the table which follows all the 
 passages are brought together in which B b and C c disagree. A star (*) indicates 
 that the reading is adopted by Mtillenhoff in his edition of the Oermania. A dagger 
 (f) means that T is in error with B b; a double dagger {X) that T is in error with C c. 
 In a supplementary table some peculiar cases are given. 
 
 TABLE SHOWING THE READINGS OF T AT POINTS WHERE B 1) AND C C DISAGREE. 
 
 Bb 
 
 2, 
 
 12 
 
 Tristone (Tuisman marg.) B, tris- 
 tone b 
 
 3, 
 4, 
 
 13 
 
 2 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 hodieque * T B b 
 populos * T B b 
 
 qq (al. tanq, marcj.) B, quamquam* 
 Tb 
 
 llei 
 
 ceruli B, ceruli b 
 
 
 10 
 
 1 int 
 
 assuei'unt B, assuerunt b 
 
 5, 
 
 7 
 8 
 
 12 
 21 
 
 e§que * T b, eeque B 
 propitiine * T B b 
 
 I pro 
 
 periude B, perinde * T b 
 affectatione f T B b 
 
 6, 
 
 8 
 
 I mensum B b 
 
 
 16*' 
 
 aestimanti B b, extimanti ( = esti- 
 manti* ?) T 
 
 7, 
 
 21 
 2 
 
 quidem B b 
 aut * T B b 
 
 
 2 
 
 etiam B b 
 
 
 12 
 
 aut pi-opinquitates Bb 
 
 in error in his comment ou this matter; but tho important 
 point in his statement, to which Sabbadini calls attention, 
 ig the fact that Enoch's MS. was written in columns, 
 whereas in Decembrio's time it was the practice to make 
 the lines in MSS. run across the entire page. This shows 
 clearly enough that Enoch brought the German MS. itself 
 with him and not a copy of it. The title which the Ger- 
 
 Cc 
 
 Tuiscone T, Tuistone C, Bistonem c, 
 
 (Tuistonem, ed. Muell.j * 
 hodie C c 
 populis C c 
 tanquam C c 
 
 cerulei C, cerulei * T c 
 
 assueuenint ;{: T C c 
 eatque C, eatque c 
 propitii C c 
 
 proinde C c 
 
 aifectione C c 
 
 I imensum C c, in immensum * T 
 
 existimanti C c 
 
 quod * T C c 
 
 ac C c 
 
 et * T C c 
 
 et propinquitates * T C c 
 
 mania bore in the Hersfeld MS. also makes it reasonably 
 sure that the original title was De Orighie et Situ Gervia- 
 norum. This is the titU which appears in MSS. B and C. 
 
 *iUpon snch forms as extimanti forestimanti c/. GuDE- 
 HA.N, "Bemerkungen znm Codex Toletanus des Agricola," 
 in the Berliner Philotoyische Woehenschri/t. 1902, col. 796. 
 
 239
 
 26 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 7,16 
 
 aiit * T B b 
 
 
 etCc 
 
 8, 3 
 
 9, 3 
 
 precum * T B b 
 
 et herculem after placant B b 
 
 
 pr^co C c 
 
 herculem & martem * T, herculem ac 
 martem 
 
 10, 17 
 20 
 
 hinnitusque * T B b 
 istos B b 
 
 
 hiunitus c, himnituB C 
 illos * T C c 
 
 22 
 
 11, 3 
 13 
 
 12, 1 
 
 exploratiir B b 
 pertractentnr * T B b 
 tamen Bb, tameii-j- (tantum mm 
 concilium * T B b 
 
 ■r/-)T 
 
 explorant ;}: T C c 
 praetractentur C c 
 cum C, tum c 
 consilium C c 
 
 10 
 
 uindicauit B b 
 
 
 uindicatur * T C c 
 
 13, 4 
 
 cum B b 
 
 
 turn * T C c 
 
 5 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 14, 2 
 
 6 
 
 propiuqui * T B b 
 primus * T B b 
 principum cui * T B b 
 adequare * T B b 
 eius om. b, e B 
 
 
 propinquus C c 
 p" C, primum c 
 principium cui C c 
 equare C c 
 eius * T C c 
 
 13 
 
 16, 4 
 
 17, 5 
 
 tuentur B b 
 
 1 locant 
 
 longant B, logant b 
 ferunt B b 
 
 
 tueare :}: T C c 
 
 locant C c, locant * (longant marg.) T 
 gerunt * T C c 
 
 18, 11 
 12 
 
 aliquid * T B b 
 
 hoc maximum * T B b 
 
 
 id C, a' c 
 
 h§!C maximum C c 
 
 19, 9 
 
 inuenerit * T B b 
 
 
 inuenit C c 
 
 20, 3 
 
 aut * B b 
 
 
 ac :{; T C 
 
 21, 7 
 
 22, 1 
 
 aliqua B b 
 enim f T B b 
 
 
 alia * T C c 
 eCc 
 
 9 
 
 sed et * T B b 
 
 
 sed C c 
 
 14 
 15 
 
 adliec B b 
 
 1 1 ) loci 
 
 ioci B, ioci b 
 
 
 adhuc * T C c 
 ioci * T C c 
 
 24, 8 
 
 exercitatio * T B b 
 
 
 excitatio C c 
 
 25, 2 
 
 ministris B b 
 
 
 ministeriis * T C c 
 
 4 
 
 ut t T B b 
 
 
 et Cc 
 
 6 
 9-14 
 
 exequuntur * T B b 
 liberti .... argumentum misplaced 
 Bb 
 
 exequantur Cc 
 
 in liroper pJdce * T C c 
 
 26, 3 
 
 in uices B, inuicem b, inuices" 
 
 *T 
 
 uices C, uices c 
 
 27, 1 
 
 obseruat B, obseruant b 
 
 
 obseruatur * T C c 
 
 28, 2 
 
 autor B b 
 
 
 auctorum ;{: T C c 
 
 13 
 
 commigrauerint * T B b 
 
 
 comigraueruni C c 
 
 14 
 
 qui B, (j b 
 
 240 
 
 quia* TCc
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 27 
 
 29, 
 
 3 
 
 populus B b 
 
 
 populis :{: T C c 
 
 30, 
 
 1 
 
 ulera B b 
 
 
 ultra * T C c 
 
 
 5 
 
 acBb 
 
 
 atque * T C c 
 
 
 19 
 
 propior * T B b 
 
 
 propiora C c 
 
 31, 
 
 15 
 
 iiultu* T B b 
 
 
 cultu C c 
 
 33, 
 
 11 
 
 nihil* T B b 
 
 
 nil C c . 
 
 34. 
 
 1 
 
 Angiiuarios* T B, angrinarios 
 
 lb 
 
 anguiarios C, anguarios c 
 
 
 2 
 
 Tliasuarii* T B, tasuarii b 
 
 
 occasuarii C, Cliasudrii c 
 
 
 3 
 
 Fi-isii* T B b 
 
 
 frisi c, frisfi C 
 
 
 10 
 
 magnu; B, magnificum in 
 (magn marg.) /S, magmmif 
 
 Jitura 
 T 
 
 magnificum C c 
 
 35, 
 
 5 
 
 obtenditur* T B, optenditur b 
 
 
 obtendere C c 
 
 
 6 
 
 nam B b 
 
 
 tam* T C c 
 
 
 9 
 
 maluit B, malit corr. from malint b 
 
 malit* T C c 
 
 
 13 
 
 assequuntur* T B b 
 
 
 asseqnantur C c 
 
 36, 
 
 8 
 
 f usi B b 
 
 
 fosi* T C c; 
 
 37, 
 
 1 
 
 situm* T B b 
 
 
 sinum Cc 
 
 
 8 
 
 etf T B b 
 
 
 ac'Cc 
 
 
 8 
 
 Sapiriof T B, Sapyrio b 
 
 
 papirio c 
 
 38, 
 
 12 
 
 in solo B, in ipso (solo written above 
 
 in ipso solo* T C c 
 
 
 
 /8)b 
 
 
 
 
 12 
 
 religatur* T B b 
 
 
 ligant C (J 
 
 40, 
 
 3 
 
 ac*TBb 
 
 
 &Cc 
 
 
 3 
 
 Veusdigni B, Veusdigni (R written 
 
 Reudigni* Tc, Reudigi C 
 
 
 
 aha re V /3) b 
 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 Neithiim B, neithum (r above 
 
 i/8)b 
 
 nerthum C c, Nertum* T 
 
 
 9 
 
 popnlis* T B b 
 
 
 propriis C c 
 
 41, 
 
 7 
 
 passim* T B b 
 
 
 passim et C c 
 
 42, 
 
 4 
 
 parata B b 
 
 
 parta* T C c 
 
 
 7 
 
 manseref T B b 
 
 
 manserunt Cc 
 
 43, 
 
 1 
 
 Buri* T B b 
 
 
 Burii Cc 
 
 
 2 
 
 Quadorumque* T B b 
 
 
 o 
 
 qdornmque Cc 
 
 
 7 
 
 gotinif T B b 
 
 
 Cotini C c 
 
 
 18 
 
 memorat B b 
 
 
 memorant* T C c 
 
 44, 
 
 1 
 
 ipse-f- T B, ipsae b 
 
 
 ipso Cc 
 
 
 1 
 
 oceanum B b, occeaniim-|- T 
 
 
 occeano C c 
 
 
 4 
 
 frontem* T B b 
 
 
 fronte Cc 
 
 
 8 
 
 non* T B b 
 
 
 nee Cc 
 
 45, 
 
 2 
 
 cludique* T B b 
 
 
 claudique C c 
 
 
 4 
 
 ortum B b 
 
 
 ortus+ T C c 
 
 241
 
 28 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 45, 
 
 5 
 9 
 
 formasque* T B b 
 abluuntiir* T B b 
 
 forrnas C c 
 adluuntur C, alluui 
 
 
 19 
 
 28 
 
 giguat* T B b 
 sudaiit B b 
 
 gignit C c 
 sudantur* T C c 
 
 
 36 
 37 
 
 gens Bb 
 
 differunt* B b, diffeft T 
 
 gentes* T C c 
 differuntiu- Cc 
 
 46, 
 
 11 
 
 figiint B b 
 
 fingunt;}: T C c 
 
 
 25 
 
 difEcilem B b 
 
 difEcillimam C c, d 
 
 
 28 
 
 corpora B b 
 
 et corpora;|: T C c 
 
 
 
 SUPPLEMENTARY TABLE 
 
 2, 
 
 25 
 
 etiam B b 
 
 &C,om. Tc 
 
 3, 
 
 9 
 
 obiectis T B b 
 
 abiectis c, dictis C 
 
 30, 
 
 6 
 
 artus B b, arctus T 
 
 areus C c 
 
 33, 
 
 10 
 
 urgentibus iam, T B b 
 
 in urgentibus Cc 
 
 35, 
 
 6 
 
 sinuetur B b, sinuetur (sinatur 
 
 sinatur C c 
 
 37, 
 
 10 
 
 marg.) T 
 Marcoquoqiie or Marcoqiie B, Mar- 
 
 miquoque C, Mc 
 
 39, 
 
 4 
 
 coquoque b, Marcoque T 
 
 Inois Inuminis 
 
 omnes b, omnes B, oms (nomis t 
 
 omnis Co 
 
 
 14 
 
 nximls marg.) T 
 
 I tempore temp 
 
 corpore B, corpore b. corpore (tem- 
 
 corpore C c 
 
 43. 
 
 1.-, 
 
 pore marg.) T 
 naharualos T B b 
 
 nacharualos C c 
 
 difficiliinam* T 
 
 Of the 100 cases given in the first table 
 
 T agrees with Bb and gives the correct reading in 47. 
 T agrees with C c and gives the correct reading in P>3. 
 T agrees with Bb and gives an incorrect reading in 11. 
 T agrees with C c and gives an incorrect reading in 9. 
 
 The true state of affairs and the significance of these figures will be more apparent 
 after an analysis of the instances in which T B b and T C c are respectively in error. 
 The text upon which the above calculation is based is that of Miillenhoff, because Mul- 
 lenhoff's edition of the Germania is the only one which contains a satisfactory critical 
 apparatus. During the thirty years, however, which have elapsed since its appearance, 
 the reconstruction of the text has made considerable progress, and the present state of 
 the investigation is perhaps well represented by Schwyzer's revision (1902) of the 
 Schweizer-Sidlcr text. Let us compare the readings of his text with the eleven cases 
 where TBb are in error, and the nine where TCc are in error, when tested by 
 Mallenhoff's text. 
 
 242
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 29 
 
 TBb 
 
 Schwyzer 
 
 5,21 
 
 affectatione 
 
 
 
 
 affectione 
 
 11,13 
 
 tamen B b, tamen 
 
 (tantum manj.) T 
 
 turn 
 
 22, 1 
 
 enim 
 
 
 
 
 e 
 
 25, 4 
 
 ut 
 
 
 
 
 et 
 
 34,10 
 
 magnum T, magna; 
 
 B, mag 
 
 nificum 
 
 magnificum 
 
 37, 8 
 
 n( litura ami mngn 
 
 I marc/. 
 
 /3 
 
 et 
 
 8 
 42, 7 
 
 Sapirio T B, Saiiyvio 
 mansere TBb 
 
 h 
 
 
 Papirio 
 
 manserunt 
 
 43, 7 
 
 Gotini 
 
 
 
 
 Cotini 
 
 44, 1 
 
 ipe T B, ipsae b 
 
 
 
 
 ipso 
 
 1 
 
 occeanum T, oceanum 
 
 iBb 
 
 
 oceano 
 
 4,10 
 
 TCc 
 
 assueuerunt 
 
 
 
 
 adsueuerunt 
 
 10,22 
 14,13 
 
 explorant 
 tueare 
 
 
 
 
 ' explorant 
 tueare 
 
 20, 3 
 
 ac 
 
 
 
 
 ant 
 
 28, 2 
 
 auctorum 
 
 
 
 
 auctorum 
 
 29, 3 
 45, 4 
 
 populis 
 ortus 
 
 
 
 
 populue 
 ortus 
 
 46,11 
 
 fingunt 
 
 
 
 
 figunt 
 
 28 
 
 et corpora 
 
 
 
 
 corpora 
 
 Schwyzer 
 
 In only one (37, 8) of the cases of the first group is the reading of T B b adopted, 
 while five readings of T C c are admitted into the text.*" In other words, at three 
 points only, (viz., 20, 3; 29, 3; and 46, 28) do the MSS. TCc, as over against Bb, fail 
 to preserve the reading of Hersfeldensis, and at least two of these cases may readily 
 be accepted as independent errors of the copyists of T and C c. 
 
 Let us pass to an examination of the supplementary table on p. 28. At 3, 9 
 T is correct and in agreement with B b ; c has misread the first letter, and C has made 
 
 c 
 
 a more serious blunder. At 30, 6 perhaps the archetype of all five MSS. had artus. 
 B b neglected the variant, C c accepted c as a correction, and T thought the letter 
 above had been omitted." At 2, 25 B b read etiam, C &, while T and c have neither 
 
 *2 MttUenhoff himself in later years expressed a prefer- 
 ence for three of the TCc readings, viz., assueverunt (i, 10), 
 explorant (10, 22), and ortus (45, 4) (c/. Deutsche Altertums- 
 kunde, Vol. IV, pp. 147, 232, 505.) He also maintained with 
 probability {!6td.,p. 81) that "an den boiden letzten Stellen 
 (t. e., 28, 2 and 46, 11) stand in A* it. e. Hersfeldensis) ohne 
 Zweifel aucto2i und figunt nnd in B war durch einen glilck- 
 lichen Lesefehler zufallig das richtipe getroffen." At both 
 places, therefore, fingunt and auctorum of T C c represent a 
 purer tradition than figunt and auctor. At 14, 13 he reasoned 
 back (pp. 82, 267) to a form tuear, which would naturally 
 represent tueare (c/. laboT— labore and arar=arare above.) 
 
 At all six of the points under discussion MQllenhoff's later 
 conclusions are represented by Schwyzer's readings. Of the 
 TBb readiogs he favored ct 37, 8 ; mansere, 42, 7 ; and ipse, 
 44, 1 (cf. D. A., pp. 447, 480, 499). 
 
 43 Of course the reading in the archetype may have been 
 t t 
 
 areas or arcus. The tendency of C c to accept all letters 
 and words written above the line as corrections, however, 
 makes the form assumed in the text more probable. The 
 genesis of the form in T would be essentially the same in 
 any one of the supposed cases. 
 
 243
 
 80 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 word. Perhaps the archetype had &, and in writing it C omitted the stroke above the 
 symbol, while T and c, independently of one another, overlooked the symbol itself. 
 At 33, 10 and 43, 15 T is in agreement with B b, and at 37, 19 that is essentially true, 
 although all five MSS. are wrong at these three points. At 35, 6 T has the same 
 reading as B b, but offers as a variant the reading found in C c. This may very well 
 indicate, as I have attempted to show elsewhere, that the archetype of all five MSS. 
 had at this point double readings, of which B b chose one, and C c the other. T offers 
 the same reading in the text as all four of the other MSS. at 39, 4 and 39, 14, but, 
 with B, as elsewhere, it has retained the variants of the archetype {cf. p. 3G). This 
 fact does not, of course, show that T is more closely related to B or to B b than it is 
 to C c, but only that, like B, it reproduces the archetype in this respect more faithfully 
 than the C class does. Of the readings cited in the supplementary table those at 2, 
 25 ; 3, 9 ; 30, 6 ; 35, 6 ; 39, 4, and 39, 14 may properly be left out of account for 
 the reasons just given. The common errors of T B b at" 33, 10 ; 37, 19, and 43, 
 15 are significant of the fact that T is more closely related to the B class than to the 
 C class, but all five of the MSS. are wrong at these three points, and, since at present 
 we are considering only those points of difference between the B and C classes where 
 the one or the other has the true reading, these three passages must be left out of 
 consideration in this connection. This disposes of all the readings cited in the 
 sup])lementary table, and oiir revised statistics for the passages in which B b and C c 
 differ are as follows: 
 
 T agrees with B b and gives the correct reading in 48 cases " 
 T agrees with C c and gives the correct reading in 39 cases 
 T agrees with B b and gives an incorrect reading in 10 cases 
 T agrees with C c and gives an incorrect reading in 3 cases 
 
 The meaning which these statistics have for the relation of T to B b and C c is 
 perfectly clear. That T is not a simple copy of any mejaber of the Bb family, extant 
 or now lost, is evident from the fact that in forty-two of the one hundred cases 
 where Bb and Cc differ it goes with Cc. It cannot be copied from any member of 
 the C c family because in fifty-eight of the one hundred cases of disagreement between 
 B b and C c it shows a different reading from C c. It cannot be a copy of a B b MS. 
 with corrections from a C c MS. for this reason : In one hundred cases B b and C c 
 differ. In forty-nine of these B b is in error, and yet in thirty-nine of these instances 
 the reading in T is correct, agreeing with C c. It is inconceivable that a copyist, or 
 a scholar of the fifteenth century, should have been able to choose correctly between 
 two different readings in 80 per cent, of the cases before him. The case is still 
 stronger against the hypothesis that T is a copy of a C c MS. corrected from B b. 
 That theory would involve the supposition that the copyist made the right choice in 
 94 per cent, of the cases involved, because it would make it necessary for us to believe 
 
 <*Tho errors at two, perhaps at three, of these points *&If we accept MallenholT's later conclusions, the fig- 
 
 go back probably toHersfoldensis, cf, MLU.lenhoff, D.A.^ ures for T B b wonhi be 50 aud H respectively, 
 pp. 62, 423, 448, and Taomann, p. 3.^. 
 
 244
 
 Frank Feost Abbott -M 
 
 that he had selected the correct reading in forty-eight out of fifty-one instances. 
 Either of these snpj)oBitioiiH is of course in(;onceivabk>. For simihir reasons it is 
 impossible to suppose that T is a copy of a MS. compounded of B b and C c. 
 
 The evidence which is available to disprove the theory that T is a cojjy of any 
 one of the four extant MSS. of the B class or the C class, viz., B, b, C, or c, is still 
 fuller. When compared with B, for instance, T shows the correct reading, not only at 
 the thirty-nine points where both B and b are in error, but also in other passages (e.fj. 
 9, 4 ; 21, 14 ; 33, 3 ; 39, 6, and 45, 22) where T and b are cornn-t, while B gives a 
 poor reading. Over against b, T gives a true reading, not only at the thirty-nine 
 points just mentioned, but also in a large number of cases where B is correct, and b in 
 error {r.y. 7, 11 ; 7, IG ; 15, 6, and 28, 8). Similar facts could easily be given to 
 show that T is independent of C or c. From the negative point of view the evidence 
 is still stronger in support of the view that T cannot be a copy of any one of the four 
 MSS. mentioned. Taking these MSS. one by one, and leaving mere variations in 
 spelling out of account, T shows only two of the errors peculiar to B (viz., at 38, 4 
 and 39, 4), two peculiar to b (viz., at 6, 12 and 43, 31),'' one peculiar to C (viz., at 
 5, 12) and two peculiar to c (viz., at 41, 2 and 2, 25). The last one has already been 
 discussed (c/. p. 29). At 6, 12 varietate was probably a variant reading in Hers- 
 feldensis (c/. MtJLL., D. A., p. 65), which T b have received into the text, rejecting the 
 other reading variare. At 43, 31 it is very probable that Lemonii, and not Lemovii, 
 is the correct reading (cf. ibid., p. 494). The errors peculiar to B which T shows, viz., 
 q^ for g^ q^ (38, 4) and eiusdem(j for eiusdem (34, 9), like aut for hand (5, 12) which is 
 found only in T and C, " are of frequent occurrence in all MSS., and do not in any 
 way weaken the argument. 
 
 Another set of facts may be mentioned in this connection which not only seem to 
 show that T is independent of B b C and c, but even suggest that in some cases it is 
 closer to the Hersfeld MS. than is any one of the others. In fact, in some of the 
 instances to be cited, T seems to show us how to account for the different readings in 
 B b and C c, and helps to explain the errors in individual MSS. of these two classes. 
 The cases in point are 19, 9, inueiiit T, inuenerit Bb, inuenit Co; 28, 1, auctoy T, 
 auctoru Cc, autor Bb ; 30, 12 roe T C, romane Bb, ratione c ; 34, 1, Dulgicubuni 
 (dulgibnii mar(j.) T, dulgitubini b, Dulgibini (dulgitubini above) B, dulgibini Cc (cf. 
 Miill, D. A., p. 80) ; 39, 4, oms (nomis, nuniTs murg.) T, omnes b, omnes (nois, 
 numinis ahov^ B, omnis Cc. The Hersfeld MS. probably had invenit, aucto:^^, roe, 
 and oms, which T has faithfully preserved. In a similar way the copyist of T at 30, 9 
 gives in the test oceiones, but writes the word in full on the margin. 
 
 The fact may have been noted that the corrector of b (/S) has introduced at 
 certain points the readings of C c, and it may be suspected that T is a cojiy of b made 
 after these corrections were inserted, but a comparison of the readings of ^ with those 
 
 « Mention should be made of 24, 6 and 45, 22, where T *'• 2, 12 is not cited here because the readings of T and C 
 
 and b of all the MSS. sepm to have preserved true read- seem to show merely a difference in spelling. 
 lug's. It is hardly probable that they are conjectures. 
 
 245
 
 32 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 of T shows that this view is tmtenable. In the last ten chapters of the Germania, for 
 instance, the following readings disprove this theory : 39, 1, Semones, (Semnones 
 mary.) T, Senones /3; 3U, 4, sacrum T, sacrani /3; 43, 12, Legiorum T, ligiorum ^-j 
 44, 1, occeanum T, oceano /8 ; 45, 36, Sitonum T, sithonum b ; 46, 6, mixtos T, 
 mistis /S; 46, 20, sunt T, oin. b /3." T must, therefore, be regarded as entirely 
 independent of B, b, C, and o.'" 
 
 The figures given on p. 30 show, however, that it is more closely related to B b 
 than to C c. It agrees with B b in fifty-eight of the cases under consideration, with 
 C c in forty-two only. It shows the same error as B b in ten instances, while it fol- 
 lows C c into error in three cases only, and all three may be considered independent 
 errors of the copyist of T and C c. 
 
 As for the relation that T bears to the two MSS. which make up the B class, 
 it may be noted that it has two errors in common with b, but they probably come 
 from variant readings in Enoch's MS. (cf. p. 31), while the errors peculiar to TB 
 at 38, 4 and 39, 4 (cf. p. 31) scarcely warrant us in assuming any closer relation 
 between these two MSS. than exists between T and b. At many points, however, 
 (('. (]., 2, 9; 7, 16; 8, 10; 12, 7) T and B preserve the true reading, or are nearer the 
 archetype than b is. This state of things would seem to indicate that T, or its arche- 
 type, bears the same relation to B that it does to the MS. of which b is a copy, /. e., 
 Ponianus.^ 
 
 An interesting point of similarity, however, between T and B is brought out by 
 comparing the variant readings in the two MSS. They are given in the following 
 table : 
 
 <8 The orthography of a fifteenth-centary MS. canQot be 
 safely used in determiniDg its relation to other MSS. of the 
 same period, but for the sake of completeness it may be 
 interesting to know the forms in T at the points where the 
 spelling in Bb and Cc differ. There are thirty-nine such 
 cases. They are the following: 1, 9, danubius Bb, Dannu- 
 biust T, danuuius c, Danuuius C ; 1, 10, pluris* T B b, plures 
 C c ; 2, 14, tris* T B b, tres C c ; 2, 17, pluris* T B b, plures C c ; 
 5,2, tedatTBb, foeda Cc; .5, 5, fccunda* TBb, foecunda 
 Cc; .5, 15, commerciorum B b, commertiorum Cc, comer- 
 tiorumJT; 5, 21, sequuntur* TBb, secuntur Cc; 9, 10, con- 
 secrant* TBb, consacrant Cc; 11, 13, coercendi* TBb, 
 cohercendi Cc; 14,8, cciof TBb, otio Cc; 15, 2, ociumf 
 TBb, otiumCc; 16, 5, aedificiis* TBb, hedifltiis C, aedi- 
 fitiis c; 16, 12, supterraneos B b, sb''t^aneos C, subterra- 
 neos{ Tc; 16, 13, onerant* TBb, honerant Cc; 1", 7. 
 commercia Bb, commertia Cc. coniertiaj T; 18, 8. delicias* 
 TBb, delitiasCc; 20, 5, deliciis B b, delitiis} TCc; 20,20, 
 precia B b, praetia C c, pretia* T; 22, 5, negocia B b, 
 negotia* TCc; 25, 5, officia B b, offltia} TCc; 25, 7, coercere* 
 TBb, coherceroCc; 26, 8, seperent Bb, .separent* TCc; 
 28, 19, seperentnr Bb, separentur* TCc; 31, 7, precia B b, 
 praetia C c, protia* T ; 33, 1, Teucteros* TBb, thoucteros C, 
 thoncteros c; 34, 8, tr-tauimus Bb, tentauinius TCc: 34, 13, 
 sanctiusque* T Bb, santiusquo Cc; 37, 21, trisque* TBb, 
 tresqueCc; 37, 25, ocium Bb. otium* T Cc; :i\ 3, optiuent 
 B b, obtinett TC, obtincntc; ;iS, 11, caniciem Bb, caniticm* 
 TCc; 41, 10, iuclytum Bb, inclitum* TCc; 4:), 1, marco- 
 
 manorum* T Bb, Marchomanorum Cc; 45, 8, iitore* TBb. 
 littore Cc; 45, 13, hostis* T B b, hostes Cc; 45, 23 preciuiu- 
 que Bb, pretiumque* T Cc; 45, 27, fecundiora* TBb, 
 foecundiora c, foecondiora C : 46, 7, fedantur Bb, foedan- 
 tur* TCc. Taking the orthography of Mullenhoff's 
 edition as a standard, in eighteen cases T is correct with 
 Bb, in ten with Cc: in four instances it is in error with 
 Bb, and in six with Cc. Tentavimus in 34. 8 is loft out of 
 account. In so far as tendencies in spelling are concerned, 
 T shows a preference for plural forms iu -is (e. f/., tris, 
 pluris), and the omission of the aspirate (e. g. coercere, 
 Toncteros). Both of these points are characteristic of Bb. 
 Iu the forms of separo (separent, etc.), and iu the choice 
 of b rather than p in such words as obtinet and subterra- 
 neos it goes with C c. It inclines to C c also iu showing a 
 slight preference for t over c in such words as otium and 
 pretium, and in the use of single consonants, but its prac- 
 tice in this respect is not uniform. 
 
 «"> MOllenhoff has stated his belief (D. A., pp. 80f.) in 
 the independence of the class of MSS. to which it will be 
 later shown thatT belongs, but his discussion is very brief, 
 and does not seem to me convincing. For these reasons 
 the subject has been considered somewhat fully iu this 
 chapter, and along different lines from those followed by 
 him. 
 
 i'This relation is iudicated iu the stemma on p. 41. 
 
 246
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 33 
 
 
 
 TABLE OF 
 
 variants" 
 
 
 Ed. Muell. 
 
 T 
 
 B 
 
 b 
 
 1,10 
 
 Abnobae 
 
 Arnobe 
 Arbone, Arnone 
 
 Arnob^ 
 Arbonae 
 
 
 2,12 
 
 Tuistonem 
 
 Tuiscouem 
 
 Tristone 
 Tuisman 
 
 
 4, 5 
 
 quamqiiam 
 
 qnamqiiam 
 
 quamqnam 
 tanquam 
 
 
 6 
 
 Caerulei 
 
 cerulei 
 
 ceruli 
 cerulei 
 
 
 10 
 
 asBueninf 
 
 assueuerunt 
 
 assuerunt 
 assuerint 
 
 
 5,12 
 
 perinde 
 
 perinde 
 
 perinde 
 
 proinde 
 
 
 6,14 
 
 coniuncto 
 
 coniuncto 
 
 coniuncto 
 cuncto 
 
 cuncto b 
 coniuncto /3 
 
 19 
 
 delectos 
 
 delectos 
 
 delectos 
 dilectos 
 
 
 8,11 
 
 Albrunani 
 
 Auriniam 
 
 Auriniam 
 
 Auriniam 
 
 
 
 Albrunam or Al- 
 
 Albriniam 
 
 Albriniam 
 
 
 
 briniam 
 
 
 
 11,13 
 
 turn 
 
 tamen 
 tantum 
 
 tamen 
 
 
 12,5 
 
 crate 
 
 crate 
 
 crate 
 grate 
 
 
 16,4 
 
 locant 
 
 locant 
 
 longant 
 
 longant ( ?) b 
 
 
 
 longant 
 
 locant 
 
 locant yS 
 
 20,19 
 
 gratiosior 
 
 gratiosior 
 gratior 
 
 gratiosior 
 gratior 
 
 
 22,15 
 
 ioci 
 
 ioci 
 
 ioci 
 loci 
 
 ioci 
 loci 
 
 26, 6 
 
 praebent 
 
 praestant 
 praebent 
 
 prestant 
 prebent 
 
 
 7 
 
 labors 
 
 laborare 
 
 labore 
 
 laborare 
 
 
 
 labore 
 
 laborare 
 
 labor 
 
 51 All the passages are given in which T, B. or b has 
 any variant reading. At these points C has no variants, 
 
 couicto 
 and c one only, viz., 6, 14, cuncto. Opposite the reading of 
 Mullenhoff's edition, in the proper column, is given the 
 reading in the body of the text, and immediately below it 
 
 the variant. Thus at 2, 12 B has Tristone in the body of the 
 text and Tuisman as a variant. The reading of T is given 
 in all cases, even when T has no variant. 
 
 52 At 4, 10 Schwyzer reads adsueverunt ; Mallenhoff also 
 in D. A. 
 
 2^1
 
 34 
 
 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 28, 
 
 9 
 
 Boihaemi 
 
 Boihemi 
 
 Boihemi 
 Boijemione 
 
 
 29, 
 
 8 
 
 collationibus 
 
 collationibus 
 coUocationibus 
 
 coUocationibus 
 
 
 31, 
 
 1 
 
 raro 
 
 raro 
 rara 
 
 rara 
 raro 
 
 
 
 7 
 
 nascendi 
 
 nascendi 
 noscendi 
 
 noscendi 
 nascendi 
 
 
 3-t, 
 
 1 
 
 Dulgubnii 
 
 Dulgicubuni 
 Dulgibnii 
 
 Dulgibini 
 Dulgitubini 
 
 
 
 8 
 
 ilia 
 
 ilia 
 illis 
 
 ilia 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 consensimus 
 
 consensimus 
 consueuimus 
 
 consensimus 
 
 
 35, 
 
 6 
 
 sinuetur 
 
 sinuetur 
 sinatur 
 
 sinuetur 
 
 
 36, 
 
 2 
 
 ac 
 
 et 
 ac 
 
 ac 
 
 
 
 9 
 
 adversarum 
 
 aduersarum 
 
 aduersarum 
 
 aduersarum 
 
 
 
 
 adusariis 
 
 aduersariis 
 
 aduersariis 
 
 37, 
 
 4 
 
 ambitu 
 
 ambitum 
 ambitu 
 
 ambitum 
 ambitu 
 
 
 
 19 
 
 Gnaeoque 
 
 Marcoque 
 
 Marcoquoque 
 Marcoque 
 
 
 
 28 
 
 inde 
 
 inde 
 nam 
 
 inde 
 nam 
 
 
 88, 
 
 6 
 
 sic 
 
 sicut 
 sic 
 
 sic 
 
 
 
 12 
 
 ipso solo 
 
 ipso solo (see col- 
 lation) 
 
 solo 
 ipso 
 
 
 
 16 
 
 ornantur" 
 
 armantur 
 
 armantur 
 
 ornantur 
 
 
 
 
 ornantur 
 
 ornantur 
 
 armantur 
 
 39, 
 
 1 
 
 Semnones 
 
 Semones 
 Semnones 
 
 Semones 
 Senones 
 
 Senones 
 
 
 3 
 
 stato 
 
 statuto 
 stato 
 
 stato 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 omneB 
 
 cms 
 
 nominis, numinis 
 
 omnes 
 
 nois, numinis. 
 
 
 
 13 
 
 Semnonum 
 
 Semonum 
 Semnonum 
 
 Semonum 
 Sennonum 
 
 Senonum 
 
 •'At 38, 18 Schwyier roads armantur MOllenhoff also in /). A. 
 
 218
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 35 
 
 39, 14 corpore 
 
 corpore 
 
 corpore 
 
 corpore 
 
 
 tempore 
 
 tempore 
 
 torporo 
 
 40, 5 Suardones 
 
 Suarines 
 
 Suarines 
 
 Suarines b 
 
 
 Suardones 
 
 
 Suardones yS 
 
 41, 2 propior 
 
 propior 
 
 propior 
 proprior 
 
 
 43, 12 Lygiorum 
 
 Legiorum 
 
 Legiorum 
 Lygiorum 
 
 
 14 Helvaeonas 
 
 Heluetonas 
 
 Heluetonas 
 
 
 
 Halosionas 
 
 Helueconas 
 
 
 14 Helisios 
 
 Helisios 
 
 Helysios 
 
 r 
 Halisienas 
 
 
 15 Nahanarvalos 
 
 Nahanarulos 
 
 Nahanarualos 
 
 
 
 Naharualos 
 
 Naharualos 
 
 
 15 religionis 
 
 religionis 
 regionis 
 
 religionis 
 
 
 31 protinus 
 
 protinus 
 
 protenus 
 protinus 
 
 
 45, 5 equorum 
 
 deorum 
 eorum 
 
 deorum 
 
 
 8 Suebici 
 
 Seuici 
 
 Saeuici 
 
 
 
 Sueuici 
 
 Sueuici 
 
 
 19 quaeve 
 
 que ue 
 que ue 
 
 que ue 
 
 
 40, 1 Suebiae 
 
 Sueuig 
 
 Sueui^ 
 Sueuf! 
 
 
 1 Peucinorum 
 
 Peucinorum 
 
 Peucinorum 
 
 
 
 Peucurorum 
 
 Peucurorum 
 
 
 27 Oxionas'' 
 
 Oxionas 
 
 Oxionas 
 
 
 
 Etionas 
 
 Etionas 
 
 
 This table brings out the fact that in one noteworthy respect T resembles B more 
 than it does any other MS. of the Gennania. As has been noted, there are no variant 
 readings in C at the points under discussion, and c has one only. Eight are found in 
 b, while B and T have thirty -nine and thirty-four respectively. An analysis of these 
 cases shows that at ten points the reading in the body of the text and the variant are 
 identical in B and T, that at six more (viz., 1, 10; 8, 11; 89, 1; 39, 13; 43, 15, and 
 45, 8) they are very similar, and that in four more instances, not counting 34, 1, the 
 reading in B is the variant in T and vice versa. At twenty points, therefore, B and 
 
 6* In D.A. MQlleDboff expresses a preference for Etionas. 
 
 249
 
 36 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 T show the same double readings, and at certain points {c. g., 31, 7 and 37, 4) double 
 readings seem to be reported from no other MSS. than T and B. 
 
 In this connection we are principally concerned with the double readings common 
 to T and B, but it will be convenient to discuss here a few of those found in T, which 
 do not appear in B. At 11, 13 perhaps the archetype had tn, which would naturally 
 be expanded into either tamen or tantum, or if misread tu, into turn, from which the 
 further error cu=cum is an easy one to make. On 34, 1 cf. Mull., D. A., p. f)2. 
 The readings illis and sicut at 34, 8 and 38, G are reported nowhere else. The second 
 readings sinatur, 35, G, and regionis, 43, 15, both of which stand in the text of C c, 
 were perhaps in the Hersfeld MS., and omitted by B, and possibly, as Miillenhoff 
 thinks (D. A., p. 85), Suardones, 40, 5 was added by Enoch to his MS. after B, or 
 the MS. from which B is derived had been copied." 
 
 We have just considered some of the instances from the list printed above, where 
 B gives one reading only. It may be interesting to analyze briefly the other cases, 
 / ('., the cases where B gives a doiible reading. The facts from this point of view are 
 presented in the following conspectus: 
 
 T has double readings; B and T, correct one in text - - - - 8 
 
 T has double readings; B and T, incorrect one in text - - - 7 
 
 T has double readings; T correct in text, B incorrect - - - - 3 
 
 T has double readings; T incorrect in text, B correct - - - 1 
 
 T has double readings; all foiu- readings incorrect - . - - 2 
 
 T has one reading, correct; B, correct one in text - - - - 11 
 
 T has one reading, correct; B, incorrect one in text - - - - 3 
 
 T has one reading, incorrect; B, correct one in text - - - - 
 
 T has one reading, incorrect; B, incorrect one in text - - - - 1 
 
 TotaP^ .36 
 
 The faithfulness with which B has recorded variant readings is one of the strong- 
 est proofs which we have of the conscientiousness with which that MS. was copied. 
 Its accuracy in this resjiect leads us to trust it in other particulars. In a similar way 
 the preservation of a large number of variants in T, some of which are impossible 
 readings, like tempore at 39, 14, speaks for the fidelity of the copyist of T. He does 
 not deserve the same measure of confidence as the copyist of B, however, for two 
 reasons. In the first place, at four points where he has preserved variants, he has 
 interchanged the variant and the reading in the text. At least this is the case if we 
 accept the authority of B at these points. In the second place, in sixteen places he 
 has omitted variants which B has preserved. This omission is oidy partially offset by 
 his possible retention of three variants which the copyist of B overlooked, or did not 
 find in the archetype when he made his copy. 
 
 f-^That Suardonos stood as a second reading in thu able explanation can be offered for many of them, but in 
 
 archetype was surmised by Waitz as early as 1874; cf. the present state of our knowlodKo of the MSS.it would 
 
 Deutsche V^crfassunf/Ht/eschichle, \ii\. I, p. .510, n. 1. The be hazartlous to express a positive i>piniori about them. 
 double readinKsiuTatl, 10; 2!), 8; .14,11; 3fi, 2; 39, .1; 39, 1; M The peculiar cases at 34. 1 ; 37, 19, and 3S, 12 have been 
 
 39, 13; 43, 14 ; and 4:., 19 are not discussed here. A reason- left out of account. 
 
 250
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 37 
 
 The resemblance which exists between T and B in the niatlcr of variant readings 
 does not indicate that T is more closely related to B than to b, but only shows that the 
 common variants were in the archetype of T and B, and that both MSS. have preserved 
 them with similar lidelity. 
 
 Ill 
 T AND THE E MANUSCRIPTS 
 
 In the last chapter we reached the negative conclusion that T is independent of 
 BbCc, /. e., of the B and C classes of manuscripts. In this one we shall try to show 
 that it is a member of the E class, a conclusion to which reference has already been 
 made by way of anticipation (p. 22). Tagmann first recognized the connection 
 between Massmaun's K (or L), Vat. 2904 (Massmann's Kd), the Nuremberg editions, 
 and the Koman edition of 1474," and Miillenhoff established more definitely {D. A., 
 pp. 78 ff.) their relation to the other MSS. of the Ge.rmania. MuUenhoff secured a 
 new collation of Rd, and himself examined R '. For L and N he took the readings of 
 Massmann. His conclusion after comparing the four texts is as follows: "Esunter- 
 liegt .... keinem bedenken nicht nurdie Nurnberger drucke (e'j mit dem in anfang 
 und am ende unvollstandigen Longolianus unter 6in zeichen, sondern damit auch den 
 romischen druck (e^) und den Vaticanus selbst (v) als 6ine hs. E zusammenzufassen, 
 da wesentliche differenzen unter den drei oder vier zeugen allein eintreten, wo die 
 gemeinsame quelle doppellesarten hatte, bei denen die abschreiber oder herausgeber 
 sich bald so bald so entschieden, die ohnehin geringen und nicht zahlreichen beson- 
 derheiten jeder hs. oder jedes druckes aber bei jenem verfahren ohne schaden ver- 
 schwinden." {D. A., p. 79.) A comparison of T with any one of the E MSS. will 
 decide, therefore, whether it belongs to that class or not. The comparison can be 
 made most satisfactorily with the Nuremberg editions (e^), because, since Miillenhoff 
 wrote the sentence quoted above, a complete and accurate collation of them has been 
 made by Roediger (c/. D. A., pp. G91 flP.).'' The first thirteen chapters will be enough 
 for our purpose. 
 
 I, 1 rhaetiisqj T, rhaetys que e' I, II, rhaetis quae III 2 Danubio T e' G rheticay 
 T e' 9 Daunubius T, Danubius e^ 10 Arnobe (al arbone at none nmrg.) T, arnobae e". 
 
 II, 12 Tuiscone Te"7, II, Tuistonem e' III 14 conditorisqj T e^ IG hermiones 
 Te^ 17 pluesc^T, plures c^e' 25 etiam om. Tel 
 
 III, 4 Barditum (Baritu marg.) T, barditum e' I. II (d .■^triclyn out III) 7 voces 
 To-' uidenturTe' lOUlixemTe' 14 ACKITTVPriON T, Acriniprion (ao-«:icoi/p/riop 
 III) e" IG monimentaq^ Tel 
 
 IV, 2 conubiis T, connubys e'^ 10 assueverunt T, assueverint e". 
 
 V, 15 comertioy Te' 20 quoque om. Te' 21 affectatione T, affectacione el 
 
 VI, 5 cominus Te' 10 distingunt Te' 12 uarietate Te' (r over te III) 17 
 preliantur Tel 
 
 5; Tagmann, De Taciti Germaniae Ai>paratu Critico, ssThere are three early Nuremberg editions, but after 
 
 pp. 69 f . the first few pages they give exactly the same text. 
 
 251
 
 38 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 VII, 6 neque Te^ 11 fortuna corr. to fortuita T, fortuita e' II, III, fortuna e^ I 
 16aut Te-. 
 
 VIII, 9 negligunt Te' 11 Auriniam (Albrunam or Albriniam [Vj marg.) T, auri- 
 niam e" 13 tanquam Te'. 
 
 IX, 3 Herculem & Martem Te" 8 assimilare Te^ 
 
 X, 5 fortuitu T e' 22 explorant Tel 
 
 XI, 4 inciderit Te" 10 ne iniussi T, nee iniussi e^ 11 cftuum T, coetium e' 13 
 tamen (tantum viarg.) T, tii e^. 
 
 XII, 7 ascondi T e^ 8 pena:^ T, poenarum e^ 14 adsunt Tel 
 
 XIII, 1 private Te' 4 turn] turn T, cum e" pater] ipsi Te" 11 etiam] et & Te' 
 16 semper & Te^ 18 ciiique om. Tel 
 
 In the following list some of the readings characteristic of T are given; i. e., 
 readings not found in MSS. of the B or C classes : 
 
 X, 5 fortuitu Te'e^T; XI, 10 ne iniussi T, nee iniussi e^e'?; XI, 11 c^tuum T, 
 coetium e"e'?7 XIII, 6 semper et Te^e'?; XIV, 9 adolescentum Te'^'e'?? XVI, 16 popu- 
 latio Te-e^T; XVIII, 19 uiuentes Te'e'77 19 parientes Te'e'77 XX, 7 in ex aucta T, 
 in exauta e= (s over ut e' II) 77 XXV, 6 verberaut Te'e' XXVIII, 25 collati T e= e'v 
 XXXV, 13 iuiuriam T e' XXXVII, 10 consulatum] conventum T e' XXXIX, G hor- 
 rentia Te' XLII, 8 Trudi Te'r, XLV, 19 que ve (v5 marg.) T, quae vero e' XLVI, 
 16 solaTe"??. That T is a member of the E class, so called, to which these four 
 MSS. and early editions belong, is apparent without comment. 
 
 It would be hazardous in the present state of our knowledge^' to attempt to find 
 the exact relation which the several members of the E class bear to one another, but 
 some general conclusions on this point may be stated with a great deal of confidence. 
 We have already noted (p. 3(3) that the preservation in T of variant readings whose 
 presence in Hersfeldensis is attested by B furnishes proof both of the fidelity of the 
 copyist of T and of the excellence of the MS. which he followed. The same infer- 
 ence has been drawn (p. 31) from the appearance in T of certain abbreviated forms, 
 probably taken from the archetype, out of which errors have developed even in our 
 best MSS. These a iwiori considerations are supported, so far as the comparative 
 excellence of T and the other members of the E class is concerned, by the presence in 
 T of certain words which have been overlooked by the copyists of the other E MSS. ; 
 e. g., 10, 19, sed T, on. e'e^tj and 16, 15 et T, om. e", and by the preservation of the 
 true reading in T where e' and the others have gone astray. Cases in point are 2, 21, 
 primi T, pr. eni e\ primi eni el primum t); 15, 6, iidem T, iisdem o"; 18, 18, data T, 
 parata e', parata (air data parata marg.) ?;; 19, 5, abscisis] abscisis T77, adcisis e', 
 
 S'^ An accurate collation of e2 has been given by Rfldi- reports MQlleuhoff as announcing after an examination of 
 ger, as already noted. Tlio roadinKS of T are given in chai>. K (or L) that it was a direct copy of the Nuremberg edi- 
 ii of this paper. MlUlonhoff examined Ri and tj, but did tion, and this statement agrees with the passage quoted 
 not publish his collations. Some of the readings of Ri and above (p. .37) from the JM'Utsche Altcrtuntskitmlc in regard 
 r] are given by Massmanti, but a comparison of Massmann's to e^. Complete collations of Ri and »i are needed, there- 
 critical apparatus for H and h with the MSS. themselves fore, before the exact relations of the members of the E 
 has led mo to distrust the readings which he reports for class to one another can be determined with certainty. 
 other MSS. WOnsch in Hermes, Vol. XXXII (1»97), p. 43, 
 
 252
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 39 
 
 adscisis e'. Still more significant perhaps are the passages where the writing was not 
 perfectly legible. In some of these places the original copyist of T has first made a 
 mistake, and at once corrected it, whereas in the other E MSS. an error is left uncor- 
 rected, e. (J., 19, 7, fiuere corr. to finire T', finuere e', funero rj; ;i(), 14, impedite corr. 
 to in pedite T', impedite tj. In two other cases T is iu error, but is nearer the arche- 
 type than the other MSS. These are 20, 7, ine.Khausta] in oxaucta T, inexauta r/, in 
 ex auta (s over ut in II) e", and 37, 8, Papirio] Sapirio T, Sapino o^, Sapiro rj. 
 
 In the matter of d(juble readings T bears to the other E MSS. a relation very 
 similar to that which B bears to b, C, and c. It may be remembered, for instance, 
 
 1 pro 1 prebont 
 
 that we find at 5, 12 perinde B, perinde b, proinde C c; at 26, 6, prestant B, pbet b, 
 praebent c, pstat C. In a similar way T has double readings at a great many points 
 where each of the other E MSS. has selected one and omitted the other. Examples 
 of this state of things are 20, 19, gratiosior (gratior marg.) T, gratiosior e^ gratior j?; 
 31, 1, raro (rara marg.) T, rara e^ raro rj; 31,7, nascendi (noscendi nKtrg.) T, noscendi 
 e', nascendi rj; 34, 1, Dulgicubuni (Dulgibnii marg.) T, Dulgibini e^, Dulgicubuni ??; 
 37, 28, inde (nam marg.) T, inde e'^, nam j?; and 39, 14, corpore (tempore marg.) T, 
 corpore e'*, tempore 77.™ It follows from all these facts that T is not a copy of any one 
 of the E MSS., and also that it is one of the best representatives of them. 
 
 It could hardly be expected that many true readings would occur in T which are 
 not to be found in either B b or C c. The following cases may, however, be men- 
 tioned: 19, 5, abscisisj abscisis T, adcisis B, accisis be, accissis C; 20, G, separet] 
 
 e 
 
 separet T, seperet Bc^, sep& C, separet c; 30, 1, Hercynio] Hercynio T, Hircynio B, 
 
 e 
 
 hercinio Cc, hircynio b; 37, 19, Mallio] Mallio T, Malio B, Maulio bC, Manilio c; 
 
 39, 1, Semnones] Semones (Semnones marg.) T, Semoues (1 Sellones ahorc) B, seno- 
 nes b, semones Cc, Semnones above c"; 40, 1, Langobardos] Langobardos T, Largo- 
 
 bardos B, logobardos b, longobardos Cc, l5gobardos (Longobardi 7narg.) /9; 40, 5, 
 Suardones] Suarines (Suardones marg.) T, Suarines BbCc (dones above ines /3); 
 
 r 
 
 43, 14, Helisios] Helisios T, Helysios C c, Helysios (1 halisienas above) B, elisios b, 
 and apparently Albrunam" at 8, 11, which is found in T only. One shoxild mention 
 in this connection 45, 22 also, where T b alone seem to have preserved the true read- 
 ing, profertur. The real value of the E class lies in the fact, as MilUenhoff has shown, 
 that it casts the deciding vote when B b and C c are at variance, and thus furnishes a 
 safe basis for the reconstruction of the text at a rather large number of points. In 
 eighty-seven of the one hundred cases where B b and C c offer different readings (cf. 
 p. 30) the agreement of E with the one or the other class may be accepted with safety 
 
 6<J Incidentally it is interesting to notice that the editor omitted, while the copyist of ij chooses the variant, per- 
 
 of 6 2 consistently follows one practice in making a selec- haps in the belief that it is a correction or a preferable 
 
 tion between the two readings, while the copyist of tj reading. 
 
 adopts another method. In e2 the reading which is found 6i It is possible that the reading in T is Albriniam, but 
 
 in the body of the text in B is selected and the variant is it seemed to me clearly intended for AJbrunam. 
 
 253
 
 40 The Toledo Manuscript of the Germania of Tacitus 
 
 as the determining factor, and in a fair luimber of these instances a safe decision could 
 not be made without the help of E. Such cases, for instance, are 2, 24; 4, 10; 10, 22; 
 42, 7; 45, 4; 45, 28. 
 
 IV 
 
 SUMMARY 
 
 The main points developed in the foregoing discussion may be set down briefly 
 here. Codex 49, 2 in the chapter library of the cathedral at Toledo contains the Ger- 
 mania and Ayricula of Tacitus, an oration by lo. Antonius Campanus, a fragment of 
 an oration, some of Pliny''s Letters, and another oratorical fragment. The scribe was 
 M. Angelus Crullus Tuders, who, at the end of the Germania, and again at the end 
 of the oration of Antonius, speaks of himself as publicus scriba Fulginii. The sub- 
 scription to the Germania bears the date of June 1, 1474; that to the oration of 
 Antonius, December 5 of the same year; while the Agricola, which stands between 
 these two works, was in all probability written in the half-year intervening between 
 these two dates. 
 
 The MS. of the Germania has variants, thirty-nine in number, written on the 
 margin in the hand and ink of the original copyist. There are three different classes 
 of corrections, which are usually inserted above the line. Those of the first class, T', 
 are made by the original copyist, and correct errors committed by him in following 
 the copy before him. The corrections of T'* are taken from another MS., perhaps from 
 Vindobonensis I, and are to be rejected, except in certain specified cases, where it is 
 clear that the correction serves to restore the reading of the archetype of T. The 
 scribe whom we have called T" also inserted the titles and paragraph marks, and his 
 corrections, which are unimportant, come apparently from the archetype of T. 
 
 The MS. T shows the errors common to the four authoritative MSS., B (Vat. 
 18G2), b (Leidensis), C (Vat. 1518), and c (Neapolitanus), and therefore evidently goes 
 back, as these MSS. do, to the codex which Enoch of Ascoli brought into Italy from 
 Germany in the fifteenth century. It is, however, independent of any one of the four 
 MSS. mentioned above. This conclusion rests upon a number of facts. T cannot be 
 a simple copy of any one of these MSS., because it is correct at many points where 
 each of the others shows a false reading, or has omitted a word. The theory that it 
 may have been a copy of one of the B or C MSS., extant or now lost, is likewise 
 untenable. At one hundred points or more the readings in B b and C c differ, B b 
 showing the true reading at one point, C c at another. At these points T agrees first 
 with one group, then with the other, giving a correct text in eighty-seven of the 
 instances mentioned. An analysis of these cases sliows tliat, if we regard T as a copy 
 of a Bb MS., with corrections from a CcMS., we must assume that the copyist 
 rejected the incorrect readings of ]i b and selected the true ones in 80 per cent, of the 
 cases involved. If we regard T as a copy of a Co MS., with corrections from Bb, the 
 percentage rises to 1)4. Neither supposition seems credible. Furthermore, in cer- 
 
 254
 
 Frank Frost Abbott 
 
 41 
 
 tain cases T alone of t\w five MSS. under discusHion jireserves the reading of the 
 archetype. Finally, at a number of points, T seems to be nearer the archetyj)o than 
 the others, and to give us the forms out of which errors or divergent readings in the 
 others have developed. The independence of T becomes still more apparent if it be 
 compared with an individual (extant) MS. of the B or C classes, because to the cases 
 where it is correct witli B b, while C c is wrong, must be added those wht^-e B or b or 
 C or c is in error, while T gives the true reading. 
 
 It is more closely related to the B class than to the C class. At points where the 
 one is correct and the other incorrect, T, if in error, is in error in almost every case 
 with the B MSS. Equally significant are the three cases where the two groups differ, 
 and both are wrong. In all these cases T follows B b. The retention of variant read- 
 ings in T shows the fidelity of the copyist, and establishes a resemblance between that 
 MS. and B, but does not prove that T is more closely related to B tliau it is to any 
 one of the others. 
 
 [Hersfeldensis] 
 
 [HersfeldensiB] 
 
 (Pon 
 
 (Ponfanus 
 
 T belongs to the E class, the independent members of which are Vat. 2964 
 (Massmann's Rd), the Nuremberg editions, and the Eoman edition of 1474. This 
 fact is apparent from the common errors of these four manuscripts and editions. It 
 is independent of the other members of its class. The variants show this to be the 
 case ; as well as the true readings in T at points where all the others are in error. It 
 is perhaps most conclusively shown at the points where the writing in the archetype 
 of the E MSS. was not perfectly legible. At several of these points the copyist of T 
 first made a mistake and then corrected it, whereas in the other E manuscripts and 
 editions the error is left xincdrrected. The copyist of T has also retained the double 
 readings, which, in most cases, do not appear in the others. In this respect it bears 
 the same relation to the other members of the E .class that B does to bCc. T is 
 therefore independent of the other members of the E group, and is apparently the best 
 representative of that class. 
 
 The value of T lies partly in the true readings which it has preserved at points 
 where B b C and c are all in error — although no one of these is new — but mainly in 
 
 255
 
 42 The Toledo Manuscript of the Geemania of Tacitus 
 
 the fact that the testimony of the E class settles the reading at the points where Bb 
 and C c are at variance, and thus places textual criticism at these points on a more 
 secure basis. The exact relation of the E MSS. to one another cannot yet be deter- 
 mined, since a full collation of one of them is still lacking. Furthermore, it is not certain 
 whether B is a direct copy of Enoch's MS. or not. Making a reservation covering 
 this point, and merely for the sake of illustrating one of the forms which the relation 
 of the E MSS. to one another may take, we may draw alternative stemmata (see the 
 preceding page), the difference between the two being that in one it is assumed that a 
 MS. intervened between B and Enoch's MS. (Hersf eldensis ?), while in the other B is 
 regarded as the direct descendant of Enoch's MS., in which case E, the archetype of 
 the E MSS., becomes also a direct descendant of Enoch's MS."" 
 
 APPENDIX I 
 CORRECTIONS TO MtLLENHOFF'S CRITICAL APPARATUS TO THE GERMANIA 
 
 The following corrections in Miillenhoff's critical apparatus, or additions to it, should be 
 made: j, 
 
 I, 6 Keuus C; II, 2 ad|etibus C, II celebiat C; V. 1 specie] sp^ C; 9 negaverint] nauigauerTt 
 B, 18 simplitius C, 21 sec&.t"C; VI, 14 urbe(?) corr. in orbe B; IX Sspeciem] spem C, 8 erroris, 
 corr. in oris C; X, 9 cphibueat (= prohibuerant sire prohibuerat] C; XI, 8 si costituit C, 14 
 priceps C; XII, 13 ex plebe] & ex plebe f& deleto) C; XIII, 1 nichil B, 12 ei= eius C, 15 haec] 
 hecB, 16hae] heB; XIV, 2c6mittatui C, 15 iuceti C; XV, 12 n6 mdlalsiuglis C; XVI, 9 speciem] 
 spem C, 17 iguoraf (= ignorautur) C; XVII, 8 foeras corr. in feras C, 11 femiue B: XVIII, 5 
 ambient'^ C, 15 admouetur C; XIX, 8 pudicie B; XXI, 10 imodo corr. in modo C; XXVI, 2 
 agro C, 11 species] spes BC; XXVIII, 7 rehumque, 21 quidem] q, C, 25 coulocati B; XXX, 14 
 que C, 15 honordt C; XXXI, 11 cede B; XXXIII, 2 Anguiuaros corr. in Auguiuarios C; 
 XXXIV, 4 friscis corr. in frisis C; XXXV, 7 pjjlis C; XXXVI, 3 iocundius B, 4 i potentis 
 
 .tu3 
 
 B, 4 falsi C ; XXXVII, 1 sinum] situ B, 10 cousulatum] con B, 13 galie ue C, 16 cedem B, 
 XXXVIII, 4 q, ~p C; XL, 15 suiiiut B, 18 couuers^ione C; XLII, 1 h^mum duros C; XLIII, 10 
 dhimit C; XLIV, 3 apulsui corr. in appulsui a m. rec. C, 13 sceuiunt corr. in lasciuiunt C; 
 
 i 
 
 XLV, 15 ihertia C, 24 olete C; XLVI, 2 fonuiorCi 4-13 domiciliis sunt in plaustro am. C, 13 f6ms 
 
 (= fonniis) C, 28 ferarum C. 
 
 NavigauerTt V, 9 in B is a surprising error, and its occurrence may aliate a little our confi- 
 dence in the accuracy of the copyist of that MS. The -is form in iupotentis 36, 4 is one of the 
 characteristic forms in B, if that MS. be compared with Cc. It is interesting to notice that there 
 is no variant over que 30, 14 in C. It had seemed strange that the copyist of C, while neglect- 
 ing variant readings everywhere else, even where difficult proper names occurred, should have 
 inserted one here. For sinum 37, 1 M. reports sinum BCc, situm b. This made it look as if 
 situm were an error pecidiar to b, and rendered it somewhat difficult to account for the same 
 error in E without supposing that one MS. was corrected from the other. It is clear, however, 
 now that the error existed in the archetype of the B and E MSS. Pudicie 19, 8 may be added 
 
 62 Brackets inclosing a namo (ir a letter iadicate that a MS. is now lost. For a discussion of the rehitiou which T 
 bears to B and b resiioctively cf. p. 32. 
 
 256
 
 Frank Fkost Abbott 43 
 
 to the list of places {cf. 9, 4; 21, 14 etc.) where B has made a mistake in writing a word of which 
 b has preserved the correct form. The fact that the copyist of B first wrot<i urlx; for orbe at 
 6, 14 reminds one of the error which was actually committed at 2, 5 by several E MSS. The 
 
 .turn 
 
 most interesting of these new readings is con 37, 10 in B. All of the E MSS. have at this point 
 conventum, which evidently came from an incorrect (>xpansion of the abbreviated form which 
 the copyist of B has brought over without change into his text. 
 
 APPENDIX II 
 
 NOTES ON A MANUSCRIPT CONTAINING PLINY'S LETTERS 
 
 The Codex, No. 49, 2 in the Chapter Li])rary at Toledo, in which the Germania of Tacitus is 
 found, also contains the Letters of Fliny. They run from folio G6r. to 221 v., and, as already noted 
 in my article on the Germania, on folio 221v. stands the subscription Caii Plinii oratoris atque 
 Phylosaphi Dissertissimi epistolanmi liber octavus et ultimus explicit foeliciter deo gras, and 
 below Finis, Perusi^ in dome Crispolitorum (?) 1486, AMHN TfXwo-, M. Angelus Tuders. This sub- 
 scription led Dr. Wunsch, who was allowed to make only a very few notes on the MS., to the very 
 natural conclusion that only Books VIII and IX were given (rf. Classical Review, XIII [1899] 
 p. 274). I found, however, on examining it, that the MS. contained Books I-VII and Book IX. 
 The first leaf is gone, so that the text begins with an ut solebas, I, 3, 2. The manuscript does not 
 end with an incomplete letter, as Dr. Wunsch thought, but IX, 40 is given in full. The twenty- 
 seventh letter of the fourth l)ook is lacking, and the letters are frequently numbered, until we 
 reach 100 at V, 6, when the numbers cease. After No. 8 the letters in Book V stand in the order 
 21, 15, 10-14, 16-20, 9. The MS. apparently belongs, therefore, to Keil's second group (cf. 
 Praef. pp. v-vi), of which the oldest representative is the codex archivii Casinatis of the year 
 1429. Manuscripts of this class are freely corrected from the one-hundred-letter collection. 
 This accounts for the fact that the letters are numbered up to V, 6. 
 
 I did not have time enough at my disposal to make a complete collation of the MS., but 
 I subjoin readings for the first few letters at the beginning and the end of it. The numbers 
 refer to the pages and lines of Keil's edition. 
 
 II, 20 aduocaris te om. foelix 21 tempus] temnis est enim om 22 ciu-as] curas et 23 
 negocium ocium 24 vigilie iuAetiam 27 c^pit 28 quod] (J modo] modo i (i c/ctefa) 
 
 Siqjerscrijjtio Epia 1111 Pli. S Pompeie Celerine socrui S P 
 
 33 Otriculano (otriculanus iu marg.) Carsolano (carsolanus in marg.) 34 vero om. bal- 
 neum 36 Plauti dictum in marg. 38 mei] mei te 
 
 III, 1 diverteris 4 servos] suos 6 per se ipsos 
 
 Superscriptio Pli. S. Voconio Rufo S P epta V 10 M.] Marco humilioremque 12 tectiora] 
 tet'ora 13 aurileni corr. in aruleni 16 cicatrices tigniostum (stigmosum marg.) 17 Senec- 
 tionem 18 quidem] (J Mettius Catus meis] eis 19 ego] ego aut 21 qum 25 reminiscebantur 
 corr. in reminiscebatur me ipsum 24 v. 13 nitebatur corr. in nitebamur 25 cause Mettii 
 26 relegatus a Domitiano 27 sentias Iterurn ego (Itenim ego verbis delefis) 29 afFuisse 30-1 si 
 de hoc .... sentias om. sed in marg. add. 34 quidem esse 38 ergo ex 
 
 IV, 1 mox a (a dcleta) 2 reconcilient corr. in reconciliet venit corr. in pervenit 3 cum] 
 qum (qui tum marg.) 6 ferre] perferre 6 a Spurinna] ait Burina 7 porticu] portam (porticu 
 marg.) 10 parce] pee (paxa sive para marg.) cui ego dispicies] inqens : quoi disp^iets (dispicies 
 marg.) putas 11 decepi corr. in decipi Mauricum] maritum 12 ab exilic] n ■ ab exilio 13 
 illam corr. in ilium 14 comittem corr. in comitem 17 quod] (| aliqn 18 Ruffo Ruffus 19 
 secula corr. in seculi 20 dcm : q - 21 potuisse] potius se existimare 23 secudi 24 iudicii] 
 
 25.7
 
 44 The Toledo Manuscript of the Gekmania of Tacitus 
 
 studii 25 quor es om. 26 quid] (J Metti 27 et om. 27 haesitabundiis] haesitabuudus iuquit 
 interogavi 28 lit om. 34 Maricus 35 esse om. Sva-Kaealperop] se diligenter 36 curatur] evitatur 
 (amatiu- marg.) 37 amore fortius concussa] concisa (coucussa niarg.) 
 
 V, 1 ut] ex ut Maritum 2 et] est 3 previdere corr. iu providere temtante con: in tem- 
 tandi 4 constabat quia] q - equu 
 
 Superscriptio Plinius S • CJornelio Tacito S ■ P • epla VI 10 ridebis] videbis corr. in 
 ridebis ego] ego Plinius 11 et qiudem] erj cepi 12 etquieie om.sed in marg. add. 13 erat] 
 eraut aiit (aiit deletum est et uon iti marg. additum est) 14 pugilares 16 agitatioue] acogi- 
 tatione 18 ipsamque corr. in ipsumque 21 non] non (dum in marg. add.) 22 vale om. 
 
 Superscriptio Pli ■ S ■ Octavo Rudo • S • P • epla VII 26 idem] t| deletum est et idem in 
 
 marg. additum est 27 lovi Optimo Maximo Homerus v. 29 cm. 30 ac reniitu] atque rem tu 
 
 tuo voto 32 ex advocationem pr. m.. 36 petis (a supra e scripta) id (illud supra id scripto) 
 
 Pagina CXCVI 
 
 Superscriptio C ■ P • S ■ Paulino Suo S ■ P • 7 hec 8 a om. 10 nisi te] in me 11 locan- 
 donim] tuscanorum(?) 13 lustro] iusto 14plerique 16natum]na putaut 16-17 occiirrendum 
 ergo] occiirrendum qiioque 17 et] a <i- (= a et?) est] est c)- (= est et?) 18 locu alioqui] alioqn 
 20 iustiiLs] istius redditus 21 acris 23 teutanda 24 uon] noin 25 quoque ut] qj i ut {una littera 
 ante i erasa est) gaude gratulatione] celebratione 
 
 Superscriptio C • P • S ■ Saturnio suo S • P • 29 ita ut 30 librorum corr. in librum 31 
 cui] qi (=quoi) 
 
 Superscrij^tio GPS- Mustio S P 36 haruspicam monitu om. reficiendam ceteris 
 
 CXCVII, 1 et in mains om. cum sit] quom scit 2 aliquid stato] quu static 3 magnus] 
 magis popule corr. in populi 5 ergo om. 5-6 religioseque] religio seqj 6 aedem] eande 
 extrusero 7 aede corr. in aedi has om. 8 quattuor] cui""" quoius 9 parentes corr. in parietes 
 10 vel faciendum] faciimdum vel emendum om,. 11-12 vetustate sui partibus 13 istinc esse] 
 e ■ incesse 14 ratiouem corr. in ratione loci om. possum 15 circumdare temple] Tito Livio 
 templi] temporal! abniptissimis] ablutissimis 16 ripibus corr. in ripis pratum] templum pratu 
 (templum deleto) 17-18 ipsmn .... melius om. 18 invenies 
 
 Superscriptio GPS- Fiisco ■ S ■ P 25 permutem] permulto corr. in permutet 27 post] 
 
 post cena 28 iam non 31 nunc] no ver et autumuum quae] vere tantum uirnq; 32 hiemem] 
 hiemem statim mediam ita] la 
 
 258
 
 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE 
 
 CITY DIONYSIA
 
 THE INTRODUCTION OF COMEDY INTO THE CITY 
 
 DIONYSIA 
 
 A CHRONOLOGICAL STUDY IN GREEK LITERARY HISTORY 
 
 Edward Capps 
 
 Aristotle's brief statement in the fifth chapter of the Poetics, Koi yap y^opov 
 KcofimSuv oyjre TToxe 6 ap')(aiv eSta/cer, has proved a veritable will-o'-the-wisp to students of 
 Attic comedy, alluring by the apparently clear and well-defined light of a definite 
 epoch date, 6 apxt^v ehwKev, but at the same time perplexing and bafiiing the eager 
 searcher by the vague and flickering o-^e Trore. And many are the victims who have 
 been led into the bog. There have been those who have attributed the indefiniteness 
 of the statement to a lack of definite knowledge on the part of the writer. Others, 
 unwilling to credit Aristotle with ignorance on a matter of literary history to which he 
 alludes in this manner, assume that the fault lies in the brevity and condensation of 
 the utterance, and proceed to explain in precise terms what the oracle meant to say. 
 But there is still another way of looking at the matter. I am inclined to think that, for 
 the public which he addressed, there was no vagueness or uncertainty in these words. 
 Had it suited the writer's purpose he could have added eVl rov Setfo? apxovTo'i and could 
 have given, approximately at least, the number of years in the interval oi|re ttotc; but 
 he was writing for those who knew, for whom such learned commentary, for which 
 we moderns have invented the footnote just to show that we know, would have merely 
 encumbered the argument. The trouble with most interpreters has been, partly the 
 lack of the evidence upon which Aristotle based his assertion (and for this they are, 
 of course, not responsible), partly the failure to recognize the nature of this evidence, 
 and partly a natural proneness to wrench such evidence as we have had so as to 
 make it fit a preconceived opinion as to the degree of lateness required to justify 
 Aristotle's phrase. 
 
 It is not my purpose in this paper to launch a new hypothesis nor to indulge in 
 speculations concerning the early history of Attic comedy, but to endeavor to recover 
 from material which Aristotle must have used an important date in this history, a 
 date which Aristotle himself evidently regarded as an epoch date — the official recogni- 
 tion of comedy by the state through its acceptance upon the programmes of the festivals 
 of Dionysus. Many attempts have been made by others to determine, precisely or 
 approximately, the time of this occurrence. The evidence which I shall employ has 
 been known and used, with a greater or less realization of its significance, for more 
 than a quarter of a century. But no one, in my opinion, has yet reached a conclusion, 
 based upon this evidence, which is demonstrably correct, or which either harmonizes 
 Aristotle with the other evidence, presumably possessed by him, or explains satisfac- 
 
 261
 
 4 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 torily the existence of testimony apparently at variance with him. I believe that 
 Aristotle's information about the early Attic comedy down to the time of published 
 texts of the plays was derived wholly from the official records of the Athenian dramatic 
 contests. Fragments of a copy of these records are still extant. By a new reconstruc- 
 tion of these fragments I hope to be able to get considerably nearer the epoch date of 
 comedy, so much nearer that Aristotle and the other literary authorities will be put 
 beyond the possibility of misinterpretation or distrust. That we may approach the 
 new evidence free from the current misconceptions relative to these, it will be necessary 
 first of all to review the much-disputed passages referred to. 
 
 Lest the title chosen for this study lead to a misunderstanding, I must explain at 
 the outset that I do not believe that 6 ap-xcov contains a reference to the City Diony- 
 sia. We have every reason to believe that the administration of both festivals was 
 essentially the same so far as the method of accepting a play,%o/36i/ hihovai tov ap^ovra, 
 is concerned, though different archons had the responsibility for the contests at each 
 festival. In view of the general form in which Aristotle's statement is cast, it would 
 therefore be rash to assume that he had in mind the first archon as opposed to the 
 second. Other reasons for this opinion will be given at the proper time; for the 
 present let it suffice to state that I have specified the City Dionysia in the title only 
 because the inscriptional evidence, by means of which I hope to arrive at the epoch date, 
 has reference to this festival alone. 
 
 AEISTOTLE AND THE LITERARY EVIDENCE 
 
 1. Epicharmiis, Chionides, and Magncs. — In the third chapter of the Poetics 
 Aristotle presents briefly the grounds upon which the Dorians disputed with the Athe- 
 nians the distinction of having first bi'ought comedy to the position of a recognized 
 branch of literature. "The Megarians of .Sicily claim it," he says, "on the ground that 
 from Megara Hyblaea came Epicharmus, who was much earlier than Chionides and 
 Magnes." ' Chionides and Magnes, according to this, are the two poets who best 
 represent the claims of Athens. They are grouped together as belonging to the same 
 period. They must be considered the earliest Athenian comic poets of prominence, 
 the first who stood out as representatives of a comedy justly entitled to the name, 
 though not necessarily the earliest persons whose names were still remembered as 
 having had a part in the new movement. The assertion of Epicharmus's priority is 
 put into the mouth of the Megarians, but Aristotle apparently accepts it as true.^ His 
 priority is, of course, not simply that of birth, for that alone would not have justified 
 
 ^ Poetics^ 1448a, 32: «al oi « 2i«eAio9 (avTiiroiovvrai Trii the interests of Attic comedy, as Wilamowitz seems to 
 
 jcw^cuSta?), iKilSiv yap ^v 'Enixapf^oi 6 jtoitjt.)?, ttoAAw Trporepoc think, Aristotle frankly assigns to him the credit of iutro- 
 
 C)v Xnavi&ov Kal Mo'y.'vjTos. duciug the plot {PocticSy 5), and Plato (T/iea-f., 152) places 
 
 aSi-SEMiuL, "Do Aristotele primordiisque comoediae him by the side of Homer. Denis seems to have had no 
 
 Atticao," liexue de philologie. Vol. XIX (189.i), p. 197, main- predecessors or followers in the view upon which ho in- 
 
 tains that this statement is Aristotle's own. It was cer- sists, that iroAAiP irpoi-epot is an exaggeration of the 
 
 tainly not repudiated by him. There is no evidence of a Megarians, and not sanctioned by Aristotle; c/. Z.a coni^die 
 
 disposition in Aristotle's day to belittle Epicharmus in precgue, p. 31, note and p. 116 note 3. 
 
 262
 
 Edward Capps 
 
 the pretensions of the Mogarians, but of achievement. If the argument of the 
 Megarians had any weight whatever, Epicharmus must have achieved a reputation 
 among them considerably before Chionides and Magnes became prominent at Athens.^ 
 
 Now we have a number of notices which help to establish the chronology of 
 Epicharmus. The exceptionally well-informed Anonymous Trepl tc(jOfifoSia<; II Kaibel * 
 places his floruit (yeyove) in the 73d Olympiad, 488-5. 8uidas' is more explicit, say- 
 ing that he was active as a poet at Syracuse *' six years before the Persian Wars," i. e., 
 in 486, at a time when certain other poets were active at Athens. The Parian Marble^' 
 synchronizes Epicharmus with Hieron (I'cgn. 478-407), as do Timaeus,' Plutarch,** and 
 others.^ Add the fact that his l!^daoL was brought out after 477/ti,'^ and the statement 
 of Diogenes^' that he lived to be ninety years old, and we have all that is recorded 
 about the Sicilian poet's life without having recourse to combinations. For such 
 combinations the most important facts, for our present purpose, ax'e (1) the destruction 
 of Megara Hyblaea by Grelon shortly after his accession, ca. 483 ; according to this, 
 Suidas could not be far wrong in dating the poet's migration to the capital in the year 
 480; and (2) the statement of Suidas'^ that Deinolochus, son or pupil of Epicharmus, 
 flourished in the 73d Olympiad/'^ Whether son or pupil, he must have been consider- 
 ably younger than Epicharmus. 
 
 Regarding Chionides and Magnes, on the other hand, we have just two notices 
 outside of Aristotle. Of the former Suidas'* speaks as the TrpcDrayoyvtarT)^ tt)? apxa^a^ 
 «ft)/Aft)Sta?, and says that he was producing plays in 488. The first part of the notice 
 
 3 Poppeleeuter's interpretation, "Epicharmus multo 
 ante Magnetem et Chionidem comoedias scribere coepit" 
 is in the right direction, although I think Aristotle's idea 
 would have been better expressed by the phrase of the 
 chronographers, eyttiypi^ero, clarus habeturj cf. De comoe- 
 diae Atticae primordiis, p. 17, note. 
 
 * Com. Graec.frag.i Vol. I, p. 7: x(iovol<; 5e y^yo*"* kolto. tiji' 
 
 5iS. V. 'Ewixapfios' ^v hi itpo Totv UeptriKtav irrf ^ 5i5a<rK(i)f 
 iv '^vpaK<iv<Tai^' (v Sk 'AB-^vai^ EtfeTT}; xai Ei'^cfi6i7; leai MvAAo; 
 eTTtfitiKi'vcTo. For many years these three persons were re- 
 garded either as comic poets or as fabrications. But now 
 that Euetes is found in the list of tragic poets next to 
 Aeschylus (CIA II, 977a), the fact is recognized that 
 Suidas does not say that they are comic poets. Myllus, 
 however, seems clearly to be due to a misapprehension — a 
 comic character for a comic poet ; but the name Euxenides 
 may well be right. The author of the statement was there- 
 fore not an unscrupulous champion of tlie claims of Athens 
 to the eiipeo-is of comedy, as Wilamowitz thought (Hermes, 
 Vol. IX (1875), p. 341), who stupidly invented some names in 
 Eu- in order to carry Attic comedy back to Epicharmus. 
 Now that we have Euetes, we see the danger in this argu- 
 ment; for we chance to know the names of just eleven 
 comic poets whose names begin in Eu- I 
 
 We may add that the chance discovery of Euetes in the 
 official lists of victors — an obscure poet whose name is never 
 mentioned elsewhere, who won only one victory at the Dio. 
 nysia — and in a position that tallies with remarkable accu- 
 racy with the date assigned by Suidas. goes far to vindicate 
 the trustworthiness of the source of Suidas. Such infor- 
 
 mation could have been derived only from the official rec- 
 ords. Neither the names of Phrynichus or Aeschylus, which 
 preceded Euetes in the didascalic records, nor those of 
 Polyphrasmon or ... . ittttos, which followed, would have 
 expressed so precisely the desired synchronism with Epi- 
 charmus's residence in Syracuse as does that of Euetes. 
 
 f" V. 71 : <i<^' oO 'lepwf 'S.vpaKovauiV tTvpdvt'fviTty, tTr) HHEim, 
 dp\oi'To^ ' A.Biqvrjai XoipijTog (472/ 1 ). ^v &i ical 'ETrt;^ap^os 6 TroiTjTijs 
 Kara toutov. 
 
 ■? Quoted by Clement of Alexandria, Strom., I, p. 353. 
 
 8 Apophth., 175 C ; Quomodo quis adulat. disting., 68 A. 
 
 9 Id Kaibel, Com. Grace, frag.. Vol. I, p. 88, 5. 
 lOBoECKH ad Find., Pyth., II. 
 
 n VIII, 3, 3. [Lncian], Macrob., 2.5, gives 97. 
 12 .S^. V, Aei^dAoxo? • xtu/iCKos r^v trri rijs oy' oAv(t7rta6o5, vibs 
 'ETrt;^app.oi', to? ie Tivt<;, juafJrjrij?. 
 
 13LORENZ, Leben undSchrifien des Ckoers Epicharmos, 
 p. 55, finds it a suspicious circumstance that Suidas groups 
 so many comic poets in the same Olympiad, five Attic and 
 three Sicilian (the third being Phormis). But Aristotle 
 himself groups four of the eight together, and Suidas does 
 not state, as we have seen, that the other three are comic 
 poets. LoRENz'a suspicion, which is due to Meineke's 
 influence, goes far to vitiate what would otherwise be the 
 sanest discussion we have of the relations of Chionides and 
 Magnes to Epicharmus. 
 
 i*S. V. XitoviSr}^- . . . . ov Kai AeyouiTt TrpuiTayioftaTriv yej-e- 
 o-9ai TTJs apxat.a'i icwjiw5ia?, SiSd<7K€iv Be iT^triv bxria itpo Tiv 
 
 nepffiKir, (. e., in 489/8, 488 7, or 487 6. 
 
 263
 
 6 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionyria 
 
 is merely a deduction from Aristotle's third chapter; the latter part, considered by 
 itself, is strongly suggestive of the language of the didascalia3, Xi(oviBr]<; iBiBaaKev — the 
 more so now that we know for a certainty that the hitherto suspected notice which 
 mentions Euetes was derived from such a source. The notice in Suidas about 
 Magnes'^ seems to be nothing but a weak echo of the ttoXXo) TrpoVe/ao? of Aristotle. Apart 
 from this and the two inscriptions which mention his name we have only the combi- 
 nation set up by Meineke'"on the basis of Aristoj^hanes's Knights, 524i, horn which the 
 safe inference is drawn that Magnes was dead at the time of the production of this 
 play, in 425, and that he died in old age. But by this combination we can only arrive 
 at about the year 465 as the latest time at which the poet may have entered upon his 
 dramatic career." 
 
 Now if we select from among these notices the most significant, having regard to 
 the dates alone and not to the events underlying the dates, and compare them with 
 the statement of Aristotle, we at once detect an apparent contradiction: Epicharmua 
 488-485 (Anon., Suid.), Chionides 488 (Suid.), but 'ETrixapfio<; ttoXXw ■n-porepo'; Xicoviiov 
 (Arist.). Meineke was the first, I believe, to find a difEculty here, but he has had a 
 long line of successors. Those who assume, as he did, that the earliest date given for 
 Epicharmus is to be regarded as the epoch date on which Aristotle's ttoXXoj Tr/joVepo? 
 was based, have been obliged either (1) to reject the date of Chionides given by 
 Suidas, or (2) to discredit the text of Aristotle, or, finally, (3) to invent some expla- 
 nation by which the appearance of Chionides in 488 will not count in the comparison 
 set up by Aristotle.'* The prevalent view today is that of Meineke, who placed 
 
 15 8. r. MoycTj?- t'lripaAAei 5' 'En-ixapjutu i'eo9 7^pe(T^uTp. COmic poets ID the 73d Olympiad. WiLAMOUITZ, "Die 
 
 ,e^TT 4 • -* t^ nn a megarische KomOdie," Hermes. Vol. IX (1875), pp. 340 ff.. 
 
 i^ Historia crtttcacomtcorum Graecorum, pp,z9 n. , *= ,' r ■,■..■ . 
 
 denounces any attempt to combine buidas with .\ristotle as 
 
 I'Mei.neke, it is true, places his floruit, not the begin- "bare Unkritik," for the source of Suidas was an unscni- 
 
 ning of his career, ca. Olymp. 80 (460-457), and has been fol- pulous champion of the claims of Attic comedy against the 
 
 lowed in this by almost everyone since. But there is noth- Sicilian. This yiew is reasserted in "Die Biihne des 
 
 ing in Aristophanes that suggests that Magnes's failure Aischylos," Hermes, Vol. XXI (1886), p. 613, and is taken tor 
 
 was a quite recent event; he may have been dead a decade granted in Homerische Vntersuchunaen (1884), p. 248, note 
 
 or more. And Meineke's calculation is based upon the i3_ guj ;„ jhe Herakles, Vol. I (1889), p. 50. Leo, "Ein 
 
 assumption of a life of only sixty years, though Aristo- sieg des Magnes," Ehcin. Mus., Vol. XXXIII (1878), pp. 139 
 
 phanes seems rather to emphasize his advanced age: titi ^ kaibel, Pauly-Wissowa Eealciwyclopadie, s. v. Chion- 
 
 Ywi"5. o" vif> «*■ Wis. ifffl^iSi irptaPtir,? iv. Those uncertain jjej jiggt,) . fi^g 5^^^ ^f guidas can bo explained only on 
 
 data could therefore readily bo reconciled with a floruit the assumption that the passage in Aristotle was carelessly 
 
 (40 years) before 460, birth before 500. Brinck, Inscrip- rg^d 1 Kirchner, Prosopographia Attica, s. vv. Xi,oviSr„ 
 
 tiones Graecae ml chorcgiam pcrtinentes. p. 170, places his ^^^\ Miy, ,5 : The Suidas notice is omitted altogether from 
 
 birth CO. 495. jjjg tostimonia on Chionides. 
 
 *8It may bo of interest to name the principal ropre- (3) Meineke objected to Grtsar's chronology on the 
 
 sentatives of each of these throe groups. The following ground that it placed Epicharmus oAiyw, not n-oAAto, irpoTtpo?, 
 
 list is by no means exhaustive: This seems to have led Croiset and others to approve of 
 
 (1) Meineke, Hist, crit, (1839), p. 27: if Suidas s. v. the textual change; cf. Histoire delalitt^rature grecquc, 
 
 Xioji/iSijs is right, Chionides would be earlier than Myllus, Vol. Ill 2 (1899), p. 433, note 2. I have already referred to the 
 
 etc. But Aristotle regards Chionides and Magnes as the view of Denis, whose interpretation amounts to a textual 
 
 earliest poets of literary comedy in .\ttica. Bernhardy, change. It is hard to see what Beloch would do with the 
 
 Grumlrifm iler grierhischen Liiterfitur. Th. II (1845). pp. 942, Aristotle passage, for he thinks that Epicharmus was very 
 
 945 and at/ Suid. s. r. Xiu)t't£»j«. LtURK^Z, Lclten uiul Schriften young when he came to Syracuse and that ho lived many 
 
 des Coers Epicharmott (1864), pp. 52 if, Loreuz was years after Ilieron; cf. Grieehische Geschiclite. Vol. I, p. 
 
 influenced to abandon the altogether reasonable explaua- 577, note 1. 
 
 tion, which he works out in detail, by Meineke's objection (3) Haigh, .4(//c Theatre'^ (1898), pp. 30 f., 41, assumes 
 
 concerning Myllus, Euetes, etc., and by the suspicious cir- that there were regular contests under state auspices as 
 
 cumstanco that Suidas groups three Sicilian and five Attic early as 487, believiugsooxact a statement as that of Suidas 
 
 264
 
 EOWARD CaPPS 
 
 the floruit of EpicharmuH in flio 73(1 Olympiad, that of Chionides and Magnes in 
 the 80th. 
 
 Much as we may admire the ingenuity displayed by some of the greatest scholars 
 of our time in getting rid of the contradiction which they have felt between Suidas and 
 Aristotle — from Meineke's quiet rejection of the troublesome notice, to Wilamowitz's 
 sleuth-like detection of the forger, and Kaibel's gentle correction of a bit of carelessness 
 in translation — on sober reflection it seems well-nigh iucredil)le, and by no means 
 creditable to our modern scholarship, that any difficulty should have been found, in the 
 first place, in the straightforward notices with which we are dealing, and that the error 
 in reasoning should have persisted so long, especially since there have not been wanting 
 all these years a few scholars who have found no difficulties in the way of a natural 
 and satisfactory interpretation. I refer particularly to F. A. Wolf, Clinton, and Bergk.''^ 
 The trouble has been, mainly, the failure to recognize the absolute necessity of 
 assuming, from the words of Aristotle, that Epicliarmus was a Megarian and first won 
 distinction at Megara."" Aristotle was speaking only of the claims of the Dorians, and 
 Syracuse"' would have suited his argument as well as Megara; he would scarcely have 
 gone out of his way to mention the Megarians had not the literary comedy of the 
 Sicilians originated among them." The second source of the prevalent error has been 
 the mechanical and somewhat unintelligent use of the data furnished by the chronog- 
 raphers. Anonymous uses the term yeyove, which often is the equivalent of ■qKixdl^ero^'^ 
 Now it is a familiar fact that the aKfi,T) of a person was prefei'ably fixed with reference to 
 some important event in his career [iyvapi^eTo) — e. g., Solon's by his legislation — though 
 more frequently by reference to persons or events in a general way contemporary — e. g., 
 so many years before the Persian Wars. We are fortunate in the case of Epicharmus 
 in that Suidas records the fact which determined the 73d Olympiad as an epoch 
 
 s. V, Xiwi'tSTi trustworthy. But he inclines to the opinion p. 24, note 15. Grysar, De Dorienslwn comoedia (1828), 
 
 that his exhibitions were at the Lenaea. Rergk at one time seems to have perceived tiie correct relationship of the 
 
 hekl a similar view, but he was at least logical, holding that three poets, but to have aimed at too ffreat precision as to 
 
 these early productions at the Lenaea were unofliciul. repre- dates, e. ff., fixing Epicharmus's first exhibition in the year 
 
 senting the crude stage of comedy which Aristotle passed 494-3. I have not been able to see this work, 
 over as unliterary; cf. " Verzeichnisse der Siege dramat- 20A point properly emphasized again by Poppelbectee, 
 
 ischer Dichter in Athen," ifftein. Jl/iw., Vol. XXXIV (1879), Decomoerf/ac ,4((iVae;)rtmord/is (Berlin, 1893), p. 17, note. 
 p. 320. He later abandoned this view, which rested upon a 21 since Epicharmns became a Syracusan, it is not snr- 
 
 strange misconception of the status of the dramatic exhi- prising that nothing is said by the Syracusans themselves 
 
 bitions at the two festivals, in favor of a natural interpre- about his and comedy's Megarian origin ; cf. the epigrams 
 
 tation both of Aristotle and of the other notices; Griech. ;„ ijjs honor, one by Theocritus, the other quoted by Diog. 
 
 Litteraturgesch., Vol. IV (1887, posthumous), pp. 24, 46. Laert., VIII, 3; or that some one should have said of him 
 
 i» Wolf, Prolegomena ad Homerum (179.i), p. 69, note 34 (aP»rf Suidam),b! tSpc t^^ «o,M>f.Sta^£,.Supa.oO,7a.9 ipa*w»,. 
 (quoted by Lorenz) ; " Utrumque 't. e.. Chionidem et Mag- '- It is hard to see how Bernhakdy's assertion that the 
 
 netem ) autem pluribus anuis praegressa est comoedia Grae- claim rested " bloss aut seine PersOnlichkeit " can be recon- 
 
 corum Siciliensium, ab Ephicharmo, si nutus veterum recte ciled with Aristotle, even if we reject the notice of Suidas 
 
 assequor, perscripta iam ante Gelonis tiirannhlem." Clin- on Chionides ; cf. Grmulr. d. griech. Lilt., Th. II, p. 902. 
 TOff, Fasti Henenici(\i11).No\.\l, sm'i a?i. 500 : "Epicharmus 23Eohde concludes, as the result of his valuable study, 
 
 perfected comedy in Sicily long before Chionides exhibited " Viyovt in der Biographica des Suidas," Ehein. J/iis., N F., 
 
 at Athens, and continued to exhibit comedy in the reign of XXXIII (1878), p. 165: " In der ungeheueren Mehrzahl der 
 
 Hiero;" stth an. 487: " Chionides first exhibits." Beegk, Falle Suidas bezeichnet (by ye'voie) nicht das Geburtsjahr, 
 
 Griech. Litteraturgesch., Vol. IV, p. 24 : " Epicharmos hatte sondern die Zeit in welche der wichtigste Theil des Lebens 
 
 damals (at his removal to Syracuse) wohl bereits die eines Schriftstellers fallt." The usage of Suidas may be 
 
 Schwelle des Greisenalters erreicht; und sich als Lustspiel- assumed for Anonymous, for the meaning iytyfiie-q is of 
 
 dichter einen allgemein geachteten Namen erworben ; " cf. course excluded. 
 
 265
 
 8 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 (Jate — ^t> BiBdcTKoov ev ^vpaKova-ai<;. This in turn was known, not by the existence 
 of didascalic records from Syracuse — the source of such notices concerning Athenian 
 poets — but because the destruction of Megara occurred co. 483, before which time 
 Epicharmus must have taken up his residence at the Sicilian capital.^* Another 
 epoch date of Epicharmus, 472, is known from the Parian Marble, and it is just as 
 good as the other, though we do not know just the event which determined it. In fact, 
 the chronographers give, if they can, no less than four epoch dates for each great 
 dramatic poet — birth, first appearance, first victory, and death — and as many others 
 as the peculiar circumstances of the subject suggest. It is an obvious error in method, 
 therefore, to seize upon one particular epoch date in the life of Epicharmus, assume 
 that it is a fixed point in his life, like his birth date, assume further that it is the 
 epoch which formed the point of departure for Aristotle's ttoXXw TrpoVepo?, and to make 
 the chronology of Chionides and Magnes square with these assumptions. In fact, with 
 Aristotle's reference to the Megarians and Suidas's notice about Chionides to guide us, 
 and in default of contradictory evidence, we must accept the sane and convincing con- 
 clusion of Bergk: "AUe drei sind Zeitgenossen ; nur geht Epicharmos an Jahren wie 
 an Werken voran.""' 
 
 2. The beginniug of the official records. — The way is now prepared for the con- 
 sideration of the passage frtjm the fifth chapter of the Pocfics, quoted at the beginning 
 of this paper, in the light of its context. We shall learn from it to appreciate the full 
 significance of the first granting of a comic chorus by the archon, the reason why so 
 much importance is attached to the exact time of the activity of Chionides and Magnes, 
 and why a solution so simple as that outlined above has, through the influence of 
 oyjre Trore, been felt to be unsatisfactory by a majority of scholars. 
 
 After having discussed in the preceding chapter the important changes through 
 which tragedy had passed before reaching maturity, Aristotle proceeds to comedy:"'* 
 
 Though the various steps in the development of tragedy, and the persons responsilile for 
 them, are still remembered, yet iu the case of comedy, since no attention was paid to it at the 
 beginuing, they have been forgotten. For it was not until a relatively late time that the 
 archon granted a chorus of comic performers. Before that time they had volunteered their 
 services.-' And comedy had already taken on a more or less definite form at the time when the poets 
 
 2*This is generally agreed upon; the difference in xop^^Tat, have failed to recognize the generic term in the 
 
 opinion is as to his age at the time ; and Aristotle ought to formal phrase x^po'' KmniuSCiy, familiar enough in such 
 
 settle that. phrases as rois TpaytuSois, *' at the time of the tragic per- 
 
 25GnecA.I,iHem(«r0«cft.,Vol.IV,p.24,notel5. formers." The person to whom the archon granted a 
 
 chorus was the 6i6acr«aAo5. All who were trained by him 
 
 261449a, 35: ai ^t.- oi^r tSs rpayuSiat m"«?«''"s ««1 «'' iv were «<u^u.So.. The didascalus was himself one of the 
 
 iyivowTo oi, A€A^«aa.r, i, Si Ku„iu,Sia S.i Ti. ^i| anovSiiiaSa, i^ ^^^u,So\ in the early period. The distinction between actors 
 
 ipxi)! fAaStk. Kal -yip xopo" /tiuMfSi^ i^e iroTf 6 ipx<",' iUKty, ^^ j chorus in both tragedy and comedy was relatively late. 
 
 iAA- ie,\oi>Tc.\ },(T,iy. ^Sri Si (Txw<"-i "••<» ""^-^i tx<»ii"?5 "' Aristotle can use u.To«p.Tai for all who engage in a dramatic 
 
 A,ytiM«>ot »Oiiji iroiiiia; (iv^f.oi'fiioi'Tai. -ri. Si wpoawwa iiriSi^xfw performance; (■/. Poet.. 14596, 26, and Flickinger, 
 
 ^np6\oyov i itA^O, v,ro«p.T<l|. «al haa TOmCra, i,yv6,,rai. to Si "The Meaning of ^^l T^s <TKr,y^'! in Writers of the Fourth 
 
 ^v0ovs -roieli- •E,r.x«PM05 «'>• l-dpM"?. to ^er tf ipx^t e'. S.KeA.ot Century," Decennial PuhUcut)o)u< of the Unifcrsitij of Clii- 
 
 }l\e,, rC^ Si ■\Biivna:. KpiT,5 TrpJiTot hfi'" i<t>il^€vo, r!,, mfi^iKis ^„,,g^ pj^gt Scries, Vol. VI, p. 10. The suggestion oi xopiV"' 
 
 iS.as .afloAou iroulr Aoyous Ka.\ /.vSous. (Stauk, Scsemihi.) overlooks the fact that the chor.'gia 
 
 27 That is, oi KuttiwSoi, all wlio took part in the proseuta- was a democratic institution, not antedating the reforms 
 
 iUm of A KuifiuSia. Those who have assumed a enti.s7ru(7/o a(i of Cleisthenes. But surely there were comic iOeXovrai he- 
 
 tensum. understanding, as subject of ^aoc, oi \opf]yoL or oi fore thou. 
 
 2GG
 
 Edward Capps 9 
 
 mentioned are recorded. But no one knows who was responsible foi- wp&auna. prolo^nic, number 
 of actors, etc. Crates was the first Athenian tof^'ive up the lufifiiKri iSia and to use consistent plots, 
 following the example of the Sicilians, Epicharnius and rhorniis.-" 
 
 lu this passage Aristotle confines himself to Attic comedy, shaping his account of 
 it by the account just given of Attic tragedy. He knows certain important facts in the 
 history of tragedy which he cannot give for comedy, and explains the reasons for his 
 ignorance. We must assume that these reasons were satisfactory to liis Athenian 
 hearers, i. e., that they really explained both his accurate knowledge of tragedy, on 
 the one hand, and, on the other, his ignorance of comedy down to a certain point, and 
 his better information after that time. We should therefore be able, by inquiring 
 closely into the matters concerning which he is well informed, to ascertain the full 
 significance of the reasons assigned for his ignorance. 
 
 All are agreed that ol Xeyofieuot. TronjTal must mean Chionides and Magnes^' — the 
 poets whose very names stood for a certain well-defined stage in the development of 
 comedy, for the first real Attic comedy. But what is the meaning of /Mvr]fj,ovevovrai ? 
 Does it refer simply to an oral tradition — "erwahnt werden," "on commence h 
 nommer"?'" Or is it an allusion to /xvijixaTa of some kind, readily understood by the 
 Athenian? Observe that a definite point of time is suggested by the occurrence of 
 the names of these two poets. They were either "mentioned" with reference to certain 
 datable events, or "recorded" under a specific year or period. Were others mentioned 
 or recorded before them, or were theirs the earliest names'? The answer to these 
 questions depends upon the settlement of certain other questions first. 
 
 It is clear that the granting of a comic chorus by the archon was an outward sign 
 that the period of indifference (ovk iaTrovBci^eTo) with respect to comedy was then at 
 an end, so far as the state was concei-ned. Did Aristotle from that time on have com- 
 plete knowledge of the development of comedy ? If so, why does he not frankly state 
 that at this time comedy had passed through such and such stages of those mentioned 
 in the account of tragedy, instead of employing the vague phrase a^^riixaTci jiva ? Of 
 course, after the state recognition of comedy the official didascalic records were avail- 
 
 28 In view of the vast influence which the views of WiL- setzt hatten. Denn Niemand wisse, wer die Prologe," etc. 
 
 AMOWITZ have exercised in the interpretation of this pas- He then sums up as follows: "Also: erst gibt es die 
 
 sage, I append his paraphrase of the passage in full. And Ac-yofiecot TroiTjTai, dann erhalt die KomOdie die Staatscon- 
 
 I may take this opportunity to acknowledge my own in- cession, dann ist sie iambisch, .... dann konimt Krates." 
 
 debtedness to this scholar, "der gelehrteste der Hellenen" Note that the sentence Ws 6e . . . . riyvoriTix^ is made causal 
 
 of modern times, for inspiration and guidance at every in this version, and that the causal relation of *cal ydp 
 
 point in my study of this subject, though I am unable to \ophv ktA. is disregarded. 
 
 follow him in his principal conclusions. Though he has ^n.n t ,. i. ^i ^ ^ t. , .,- 
 
 . ^ ^, , ,rT^- - L f ,j- n .. 29 AiJ, I mean, who accept the text. Lsener soAivoi^iet- 
 
 adhered consistently, from Die megarische KomOdie to / -^ .-. , ., -■,,.- u l r jf 
 
 ^. „ ,, , ,,. . , i 1- t , ■ 1 11 J 1 (after Castelvetros oAiyoi fiei-oi), which has found favor 
 
 the Herakles, to this interpretation of Aristotle and to ... , , ,. , ^i, j *ii 
 
 , ,,^ ,, t , 1 ^ J -1 . ., , iL .. L with some scholars, entirely reverses the order of the argu- 
 
 about ibS as the epoch date of comedy. It IS possible that he ^ j, -i,_ l- ,. , • ^i.- 
 
 ,.„,,. . ,, ,r, ,_,,_- ment, and leaves us with a reason which explains nothing, 
 
 has since modined his views, though I have searched his . - ^ i, , . » ^,_ j ^ ., c i, j , ^ * 
 
 , ... ^. ,^. „ ^ Aristotle s ignorance of the details of the development of 
 
 recent writings in vain for an indication of the fact. , ,,.. , ^, i-j-^l, ^u 
 
 ., _. . , „ .J. ,, rr TT , TV ..or,,., comcdy wouUl obviously not be explained m the least by 
 
 Die megarische KomOdie, Hermes^ Vol. IX (18i5), p. ^, , . ,. ^ ,.i, , , , ^ c ^i i 
 
 . . , ., , - . ill. J .. . . the fact that the names of only a few parts of the early 
 
 332; Aristotle says, speaking of Attic comedy, sie sei . , ^.,, ^ j ,, xt ■ • i j i 
 
 .,,*,.,■. .,-1 - , ,„ , period are still remembered. Nor is a ^lef needed to 
 
 zunAchst, da Niemand sich ernstlich um sie bekQmmert, , , il - p. * ,, • im, j i- • ■ i 
 
 . , , . ,. . „ . .1 u u J Di 1 • ■ J- balance the ris Se following. The adversative is required 
 
 unbekannt geblieben. ±.rst spat habe der btaat sie in die i , *k 
 
 Hand genommen. und die Dichter, die man anfuhro, warden 
 
 erst in einer Zeit erwahnt, wo sich gewisse Formen festge- so Denis, La com(die grecque. Vol. I, p. 6. 
 
 267
 
 10 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 able, but they gave only the names of the contestants and choregi and the titles of the 
 plays; at this period probably not even the titles.^' How then did Aristotle know any- 
 thing about the status of comedy at this time, even enough to warrant the assertion of 
 ax^ifJ-iTo- Tiva? The texts of the plays of Epicharmus, probably from the time of his 
 residence in Syracuse, were preserved ; but if Aristotle had possessed the texts of the 
 Attic poets he would have had moi-e exact information than he gives evidence of hav- 
 ing. For the statement a-)(ii]ixaTd -nva, however, the texts were not needed ; Aristotle 
 might easily have inferred this much from the very fact that the state had given its 
 sanction to comedy. And this would fully explain the indefiniteuess of the phrase. 
 
 The /iexa/Sacrei? which Aristotle records for tragedy are: irX^dij inroKpiTcov and the 
 attendant changes, aKtjvoypa(j)ia, fj.eye6o<;, Xe'fi?, fierpov, -ttXijOi] e-neLcrohlcov. The data 
 for his statements concerning them could have been derived from the tragic texts 
 alone. I should include even aK7]voypa(f)ia, for it seems hardly possible that the 
 official records of the contests should have covered matters theatrical,^" while, on the 
 other hand, this important innovation must have had an immediate and striking effect 
 upon the inner economy and technique of the plays. It is to be noted that he does 
 not mention any innovations before Aeschylus. Since we have one play of Aeschylus 
 that goes back to about a decade from the time of his first appearance, and the intro- 
 duction of the second actor was probably not coincident with his first appearance, we 
 have no reason to doubt that Aristotle had in the tragic texts extant in his day an 
 unbroken line of testimony from the time of this innovation. In tragedy, therefore, 
 the period of indifference, not necessarily on the part of the state, but on the part of the 
 public, shown by the non-publication of the tragedies exhibited, did not extend beyond 
 the early years of Aeschylus.'^ In comedy it extended likewise down to the time of the 
 first published plays. We have seen that this was probably some time after the first 
 granting of a comic chorus. We shall be able to define this time more closely. 
 
 Now in spite of the fact that Aristotle, at the very outset of his account of comedy, 
 makes a sweeping acknowledgment of his ignorance in respect of the various /xero- 
 /Sa'crej? through which it had passed, he yet later on specifies three particufer details 
 upon which he has no information: Ti-poacoTra, 77/30X070?, irXrjOri inroKpir&v. Of course 
 
 3'To judgeby the use of *' «w/xw5ta" instead of the title the autoschediastic stage, and was the first sign of the 
 in the case of the earliest events mentioned in lose. Grace. attainment of a certain literary form, a\ri^aT6. rtca; from 
 5(c. et /(ai., 1097 (CIG I, 229). that time to the introduction of the second actor by 
 
 Aeschylus, as in comedy down to Cratinus, a period of 
 more rapid development, but stiU the absence of literary 
 quality and the non-publication of the texts. The scheme 
 
 32 WiLAMO^viTZ. who believes that the state adoption of 
 comedy, the increase of the actors in tragedy to three, 
 and important changes in the arrangement of the theatre, 
 were prescribed by a co/xo? MowaiaKh^ about 465, includes 
 also (TKrivoypa^ia; cf, " Die BQhne dcs Aischylos," Hermes, 
 Vol. XXI (1886), p. 613, and Ucraklm, Vol. I (od. 1), p. 50. 
 I agree with A. Mdei.ler, P/ii(oiof/iM, Supplbd. VI (1891), 
 p. 89, and Codenstkinkk. liuisiniis Jahrcsber.^ Vol. CVI 
 (1901), p. I.'i8. that such matters as imi»rovoinonts in staging 
 would not have been proscribed by a law. 
 
 may be true enough in general outline, but it would 
 be unsafe to extend the phrase xopbi- 6 apxtttv eSw/cei- to 
 tragedy as an epoch date in the same sense in which it 
 was the epoch date for comedy, for it is hardly possible 
 that the choregic system implied in these words antedated 
 the reforms of Cleisthenes. The dithyrambic contests of 
 men's choruses in ,509/8, archon Lysagoras (see Munro, 
 "The Parian Marble," rVitM. ifif., Vol. XV (1901), p. 357), 
 33 It would be natural to assume from the text of was before the first chorogia. Kocognition by the state 
 
 Aristotle that the granting of a chorus by the state marked before the chorogia, if there was such a recognition, took 
 
 the time of the emergence (jf tragedy, as of comedy, from another form. 
 
 2G8
 
 Edwahd Capps 11 
 
 he was uninformed about these for the same reason ns al)out the others — because the 
 texts of the period in which these clianges were accomplished were no hjnger extant. 
 Why, then, does ho single out these three details, one of which was included among 
 the /i€Ta/3a'o-eis of tragedy ? Evidently because they were not sufficiently covered by 
 the preceding explanation of his ignorance — because, in his opinion, they fell in the 
 period after the state concession and the "mentioning" of Chionides and Magnes.^ 
 By glancing again at the history of tragedy we shall see the significance of this 
 passage. 
 
 Sophocles is credited with the introduction of the third actor. The change was 
 not accomplished in 467 {Scjdem};''-' but it was in 458 (Orestcia). Now it is incredible 
 that the number of actors should have been fixed in comedy before it was in tragedy, 
 though the improvement was probably adopted immediately.'"' Now since, as we shall 
 be able to prove later on from the inscriptions, the adoption of comedy by the state was 
 certainly prior to 407 (or even to 471, the first appearance of Sophocles)," this inno- 
 vation was made after this epoch. It is clear from this that Aristotle had no comic 
 texts for a considerable period after the first granting of the chorus,^" and that the 
 period of public indifference to comedy extended for a considerable time after the end 
 of the indifference of the state. This is an important result, for it permits us to fix 
 the epoch date 6 dpxcov eBcoKev, which was a matter of official record, without reference 
 to Aristotle's personal knowledge of comic texts, which is a matter of a very different 
 nature. We now know for a certainty, what was only a surmise before, that Aristotle's 
 knowledge of the status of comedy (cr;^7;>aTa riva) at the time of its recognition by 
 the state was based wholly upon the fact of its recognition. Further, the period 
 of o-;;^»;/txaTa Tiva and fivTjfiovevovTai is synchronous with that expressed by o dp^cov 
 eScoKevf Chionides and Magnes "are mentioned" at the time of the first official con- 
 
 34 WiLAMOWITZ, Hermes, Vol. XXI, p. 614, note 1, and 37 Euseb., vers. Arm., and Hieron., sub 01. 772. On the 
 
 ScsEMIHL, (of. cit.. p. 200, reached just the opposite con- whole, this seems more likely to be true than Plutarch's 
 
 elusion — that the state concessiou antedated the employ- statement which synchronizes his first victory in 468 with 
 
 ment of three actors in tragedy; for, they argue, if this his first appearance; Cimon,S. 
 
 innovation in comedy came after the granting of a chorus, ssWilamowitz, Hermes, Vol. IX, has convincingly 
 Aristotle would have known who was responsible for it. demonstrated, on other grounds, the fact that Aristotle 
 But this assumes that information about such matters jj^d no comic texts before Cratinus. But when he says, 
 was derived from the state records, not from the texts, p, 33,-,; "Die Kuude Uber die attischo KomOdie die der 
 which both agree were not published until later; and this gelehrteste der Hellenen besass, reichte nicht Ober die 
 assumption is altogether improbable. And it the three- sechszigen," we must now qualify the statement some- 
 actor stage had been reached en. 4C.J, how conies it that the what; he had the didascaliae. Wilamowitz, it is true, 
 earliest play of Cratiuns of which we know employed only believed that the state concession was made in the sixties 
 two actors, as Kaibel has shown, "Die 'OSuacrit von (465-460), getting at this date by the process: the granting 
 Kratinos und der Kv«Aiui(/ des Euripides," Hermes, Vol. of the chorus was much later than Epicharmus ; epoch of 
 XXIV, p. 82? SnsEMIHL's explanation that this was " an Epicharmus, the reign of Hieron, 478-467. The error here 
 exception " does not seem to me valid. jg, of course, the selection of precisely this date as the one 
 
 35 1 accept the opinion of the majority, that the exodos which proved to Aristotle the priority of Epicharmus over 
 
 m our text is spurious. Chionides and Magnes. 
 
 36 I do not mean to commit myself here to the view that 39 My interpretation differs radically from that of WiL- 
 
 comedy went through the same process as tragedy, gradu- amowitz at this point. He sets the state concession after 
 
 ally increasrng the actors from one to three. On the con- the Aevofiei-oc rroiijTai', i. e., makes the oU iairovSiieTO period 
 
 trary, 1 cannot understand its development from the kiLjios coextensive with the €«.Aoi-Tal period. It totally changes 
 
 except on the supposition of a large number of performers the logic of Aristotle's thought to make the sentence ri? Si 
 
 gradually reduced, so far as it ever was reduced, to the .... ijvi-oiiTai causal. I leave my exposition to speak for 
 
 norm of tragedy. itself. 
 
 269
 
 12 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 tests, Chionides, we should suppose, in connection with the very first. They were 
 among the first comic poets of Attica whose claim to be poets in the true sense of the 
 word was sanctioned by the state itself. Aristotle assumes to possess no direct and 
 personal knowledge of the literary merits of their productions; it was enough for him 
 that the state had deemed them worthy. We can no longer be in doubt as to the 
 exact meaning of ixv-qfiovevovrat; the ofiicial didascalic fivrifiara were the only source 
 which could furnish both their names and their date in relation to the first ofiicial 
 comic contests.*" There were, of course, other poets mentioned in the early comic did- 
 ascaliae; these two are selected as the most representative of the number. 
 
 The phrase 6\jre ttots is not so vague and bafiliug as before, now that we 
 know positively that Aristotle could have given the exact year had he desired. It is, 
 of course, used with reference to tragedy, but since we do not know precisely what 
 period Aristotle had in mind for tragedy — its admission into the Dionysia under 
 Peisistratus, or the establishment of the tragic choregia under the new democracy — 
 it is useless to indulge in speculation as to the exact number of years the phrase 
 would require." It may be that we should interpret oi/re in tei-ms of development 
 rather than of years; comedy had reached a state of greater maturity when taken in 
 charge by the state than had tragedy when it was so adopted. In any event, we are 
 no longer obliged to seek a date as late as possible, infiuenced by oyjre Trore combined 
 with TToXKfp TT/joVe/ao? ; for the date of Epicharmus's reputation as a comic poet at Megara 
 may be as early as the epoch date of tragedy.*" We have learned, moreover, that the 
 epoch date of comedy was derived from the Athenian didascalic records, and that, in 
 trying to recover it, we are not to be influenced by what we know of the non-publication 
 of the early comedies. The records contained the names of Chionides and Magnes, 
 among others, at or near the beginning of the lists which reported the contests in which 
 comedy had a part. If we had access to the original didascalic documents themselves, 
 we should at once look for the names of these two poets, assured that the admission of 
 comedy into the festival programme dated not far from the year of their first appear- 
 ance. Now the notice of Suidas, which reports Xtwi'i^Tj? iBiBacrKev for 488 or 487, may 
 possibly go back to an excerpt from these didascalitB. At any rate there is now no 
 chronological obstacle in the way of such an assumption, and the notice on the face of 
 it appears to be as trustworthy as any of the didascalic information furnished by Suidas." 
 It is hard to account for it, besides, on any other hypothesis — plain error, forgery, or 
 stupid translation of Aristotle. But for the present we would best reserve our final 
 
 *oSD9EMIHL, loc. cit., p. 199, saw this, but did not make *2Xhe equation set up by Wilamowitz, 6 apxttiv iSuiKev 
 
 the application: "ergo hi duo poctae antiquissimi erant, " lango nach Epicharm," therefore, only adds one more 
 
 quorum uomina in indicibus victoriarum philosophus unliuown quantity ; r/. "Die Btthne des.\ischylos,"//ermes, 
 
 iuvenit et ox eis hand dubie in Didascalias suas reciporat." Vol. XXI (1&S6) , p. 613. 
 
 iiK'ompare ij Aefis .... oi|*e aneafiivv0ij in the account *^ Though many errors have crept into the text, yet one 
 
 of tragedy. Wo must agree with Hili.er, Rhein. Mus., can, iu general, agree with Bergk's verdict, Rlieiti. Mus., 
 
 XXXIX (1S84), p. XiS, that the tragedies of Phrynichus and N. F., Vol. XXXIV (1879), p. 318, note 1: "Die Angaben 
 
 Aeschylus were already acM^'tti as regards Atfi«; but opinions dcs Suidas fiber die dramatischen Dichter verdienen im 
 
 will differ as to whether the period of Acfts ycAoia must, on Allgemeinen voiles Vertraueu, deuu sie geheu auf Didas* 
 
 account of the i>i/i«, be placed before Thespis. kalion zurUck." 
 
 270
 
 Edward Cap PS 13 
 
 opinion upon this ]ir)iiit until wc have examined tlic valuable fragments of Athenian 
 didasealiiu preserved to us on stone. 
 
 In view of the facts thus elicited we may, by way of summary, [)araphrase the 
 argument of Aristotle as follows : The various steps in the development of comedy, 
 such as have been traced for tragedy, are beyond our knowledge, because comedy was 
 not an object of serious attention at first. No facts, naturally, are recorded for the 
 period of volunteer performances, which preceded the appointment of comic choregi by 
 the state, and this event was rather late as compared willi tragedy. At this time, 
 when we meet in the official records of the comic contests the names of Chionides 
 and Magnes, who have already been mentioned as the earliest representatives of a 
 literary comedy in Attica, comedy must already have taken on a more or less definite 
 form to have obtained this recognition. But no one knows who was responsible for 
 certain important innovations which must have been introduced after the admission 
 of comedy into the festivals ; for the plays produced in this period were not published, 
 that is, the indifference of the public still continued. We do know, however, that 
 Crates was the first at Athens to follow the lead of Epicharmus in the matter of plots, etc. 
 
 THE EVIDENCE FROM INSCRIPTIONS 
 
 We are fortunate in possessing a number of fragments of a series of inscriptions, 
 which, taken together, originally constituted a complete record of the dramatic contests 
 at the City Dionysia and Lenaea. One inscription gave the contestants and the titles 
 of their plays, arranged in the order of their success in the competitions." Another 
 gave the names of the poets, arranged chronologically, and under each name the titles 
 of the plays brought out, at each of the festivals, the year, and the rank as fixed by 
 the judges.*^ Still another reported year by year all the victors of every class — tribes 
 and choregi for the lyric events, and poets, choregi, and actors for the dramatic contests 
 of each festival.*'^ And, finally, a very extensive document in eight sections gave the 
 names of the victorious poets and actors in tragedy and comedy for the two festivals 
 separately, the names being arranged in the order of the first victories, with the total 
 number of victories won." These remarkable documents, all derived from the archives 
 of the state officials under whose supervision the contests were held, were inscribed 
 early in the third century. They were, in all probability, transcribed from the works 
 of Aristotle entitled AiSaaKuXiai and NIkul AiovvcnaKal /cal ArjvaiKai, so far as they 
 could be used, or, at any rate, were authorized by the state under the influence of 
 Aristotle's studies in this field.*' 
 
 Now, when we consider the wide publicity which the records of the Athenian 
 
 «*In four sections: (1) Dionysia, tragedy, C I A IT, 973, broken to furnish much specific information. The current 
 
 (2) comedy, 97.5; (3) Lenaea, comedy, 912, (4) tragedy, 972. restorations are useless as sources of information. 
 
 For the order, cf. my article "The Dating of Some Did- 46CIA 11,971, and IV, p. 218. The corresponding lists 
 
 ascalic Inscriptions," Am. Jour. Arch., 2d Ser., Vol. IV fof the Lenaea are not preserved. 
 
 C1900), p. 86. *? CI A II, 977, and IV, p. 220. 
 
 *5 Insc. Oraec. Sic. et Ital, 1097, 1098. These fragments 48 Wilamowitz, Herakles, Vol. I (ed. 1). p. 50; but hs 
 
 embrace only the comic poets. The fragments are too sets the date of the inscriptions about fifty years too early. 
 
 271
 
 14: The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 dramatic exhibitions enjoyed in antiquity, throngh both the works of Aristotle and 
 these documents set up on the acropolis and in the precinct of the theatre of Dionysus, 
 we are able not only better to understand how even minute details concerning the 
 poets and the contests, such, for example, as the period of Euetes and the victories of 
 Eudoxus, came to be known and mentioned by grammarians, biographers, and chro- 
 nographers, biit also to appreciate the chances in favor of the accuracy of information, 
 not exactly didascalic, which is occasionally furnished; for example, that certain poets 
 were contemporaries, as Aristophanes and Nicophon, Menander and ApoUodorus of 
 Gela, Chionides and Magues. In spite of the epitomizing, paraphrasing, and formaliz- 
 ing through which this material has gone, in spite of the manifold chances of error in 
 transmission, the student in this field comes to have a profound respect for such notices 
 scattered up and down Greek and Roman literature, feeling that in the end they 
 probably go back to the infallible records of the Athenian archives, and that he should 
 not reject them or attempt to correct them except upon evidence equally free from 
 suspicion. 
 
 Let us consider next some of the fragments of these inscriptions which throw 
 light upon the period of the Old Comedy, in the hope of getting somewhat nearer to 
 the epoch date that we are seeking. 
 
 1. The catalogues of all the I'ictors at the Cifi/ Dionysia. — The name of Magnes, 
 as victor in a comic contest at a time not far from the date of the admission of 
 comedy into the state festivals, occurs in frag, a of the great catalogue of victors 
 at the City Dionysia, CIA II, 971. This fragment does not contain a date line, 
 but it was contiguous to frag. /, which does. Frag, a stood at the head of the 
 first column of the second slab of the inscription; the exact position of frag. / is 
 unknown. The attempt has repeatedly been made" to determine the exact position of 
 / in relation to a, and thus to ascertain the exact date of Magnes's victory, but I have 
 long been of the opinion that none of the conclusions reached by various scholars is 
 possible, firstly, because they all disregard certain important epigraphical factors in the 
 problem, and secondly, because they start with the assumption that Magnes could not 
 
 *9Frag. a has bfenknown since 1839 throufjh itspublica- choregiam pertinentes,'' Diss. Hal.^ Vol. VII (1886), pp, 
 
 tioQ by PiTTAKIs, but it.s importance was first recognized, 164 ff., A. Mueller, " Neuere Arboiten auf dem Gobiete des 
 
 after Leo, '* Ein Sieg dos Magnes," Rhein. M-iis., Vol. griechischen Buhnenwesens," Philoloffii^, Supplbd. VI 
 
 XXXIII (1878), pp. 139 ff., by KoEHLEE, " Documente zur (1891), pp. 83 ff., and Bodensteiner, " Bericht Obor das 
 
 Geschichte des athenisclicn Theaters," Ath. Mitth.y Vol. antike Bilhnenwesen," Bursiajis Jahresher., Vol. CVI 
 
 III (1878), pp. 104 ff., and Bergk, " Verzeichniss der Siege (lilOl), pp. 13") ff. Mention should also be made of the 
 
 dramatischer Dichter in Athen," Rhein. Mus., Vol. XXXIV elaborate but untrustworthy essay of Gehmichen, " Ueber 
 
 (1879), pp. .%30 ff. Frag. / was first published by Georgios die .\nfange der dramatischen WcttkSmpfe in Athen," 
 
 'Er/t. "Apx., Vol. IV (1886) , p. 267, and its significance at onco Sitzuimsbcr. d. k. hayer. Aktui. d. Wiss. zu Mitnchcn. philos.- 
 
 recognizcd by Lipsids, Sitzungsber. d. k. sticfis. Gesell. d. philol. Classe, 1889, pp. 140 ff. Though the errors of Oeh- 
 
 IViss. zu Lcipzii;. philol. -histor. Classe (1887), pp. 278 ff. niicheu were promptly pointed out by Miiller and later by 
 
 Of the other fragments, g and h were published by Lolling, Bodensteiner. thoy have continued to influence the views of 
 
 SitzuruisbcT. d. k. k. Akad. d. Wiss. zu Berlin (1887), p. 1009; his colleague, Wilhelm Cukist; cf. Gesch. d. gr. Litt., 3te 
 
 (landd by Koeuler, Ath. Mitlh., Vol. Ill (1878), pp. 104 ff. Aufl., p. 196, note 4, and p. 21.^), note 4. It is rather remarkabh>, 
 
 What is known as frag, r is a hopeless jumble taken from considering the attention paid to this inscrii>tion, that no 
 
 the notes of Pittakis, and should uot be counted as a one lias Iiithcrto made use of the later fragments in the 
 
 document. Fragments a-e, C T A II, 911; f-h. IV, p. 218. attempt to solve the epigrapiiiral que-^tions which are ali- 
 
 The most important discussions of the epoch date of important for the interpretation of the earlier, 
 the inscriptiou are : Bbince, " loscriptiones Graecae ad 
 
 272
 
 Edward Capps 
 
 15 
 
 971a 
 ONKflMOIHSANTfl 
 
 Z]ENOKAEIAH§EXOPHrE 
 
 M|ArNH§EAIAA§KEN 
 
 TPATfilAQN 
 
 TTEPIKAH§XOAAP:EXOPH 
 
 AISXYAO§E[A]IAASKEN 
 
 TTANAIONIfSANAPQN] 
 
 KAEAINET|0§EXOPHrEI] 
 
 KQMfllAQN 
 
 ETTIXAPHT05] (472/1) 
 
 KQMniAQN] 
 
 OPHTEI 
 
 §EA1A]A§KEN' 
 
 TPATQIAnN] 
 
 EXJOPHTEI 
 
 TTOAY*PA§MQ]NEAIAA§- 
 ETTITTPAEIEPrOjY' (471/0) 
 ITTTTOGQNTISTTAJlAnN' 
 PHTEI 
 QN 
 
 OPHr 
 
 El 
 
 971/ 
 
 [TPATQIAQN] 
 
 : EXOPH 
 
 EAIAASKEN 
 
 ETTI<t'IA]OKAEOY§ (459/8) 
 Al|NHI§TTAlAnN 
 AHMOAOKOSEXOPHTE 
 ITTnOGQNTISANAPQN 
 EYKTHMQNEAEY: EXOPH 
 K^MQIAQN 
 EYPYKAEIAHSEXOPHTEI 
 EY^PONIOSEAIAASKE 
 TPArniAQN 
 
 EEN0KAHSA<}>1ANA: EXOPH 
 AISXYAOSEAIAASKEN 
 
 ETTIABPQNOS (458/7) 
 EPEX0H1STTAIAQN 
 XAPIASArPYAH; EXOPH 
 AEQNTISANAPQN 
 AEINO§TPATO§EXO[PHrEI 
 KfiMQIAQN 
 
 OPHr 
 
 BIQ 
 
 KQM[QIAQN 
 ANA 
 
 KAA[AIA§ .' 
 TPA[rQIAnN 
 0A 
 
 KA[PKINO§'' 
 YTT[OKPITH§ - . 
 ETr[IKAAAIMAXOY' 
 (446/5) 
 
 1 The name that follows Magnes in CIA II, 977i,* see 
 p. 25. 
 
 2 Lipsius. 
 
 •"iMy restoration, to be established in the following 
 discussion. 
 
 * See p. 17. 
 
 6 My restoration; cf. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX (lfi99). p. 
 396, note 1. 
 ^Lipsius. 
 
 273
 
 16 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 have exhibited before about the date at which Meineke placed his floruit. It will 
 therefore be necessary to consider at considerable length all of the seven published 
 fragments of this inscription. I regret that I shall ncjt have the advantage of using 
 the fragments still unpublished, announced by Dr. Adolph Wilhelm some years ago; 
 but those which we possess will sufBce for our present purpose."" I give first the text 
 of the two earliest fragments. 
 
 It will be seen that the complete record of each year, in frag, a and the first two 
 columns of frag. /, occupies eleven lines, and that these lines always recur in the same 
 order. In the third column of frag. /we notice the addition of a twelfth line, the 
 victorious tragic actor — v7r[o«piT^? 6 Seti'a]. This recurs in all the later frag- 
 ments. The only disturbance of this twelve-line record in the extant fragments is in 
 the narrow outer column of the latest fragment, where two lines are sometimes required 
 for a single entry. There may, of course, have been other disturbances in the portions 
 now lost ; for example, we might expect to find during the continuance of the syncho- 
 regia (406/5 and some years thereafter)'' two lines used for the two choregi of both 
 tragedy and comedy. But for our present purpose we may treat the order and number 
 of lines to the year as fixed for the entire inscription. 
 
 In attempts to fix the date of the events in frag, a, col. 1, recourse has been had 
 to general considerations based upon the choregia of Pericles for a play of Aeschylus, 
 combined with the current view that Magnes could not have exhibited until about the 
 middle of the sixties. We have already seen how uncertain the data are upon which 
 the opinion about Magnes rests; as to Pericles, the idea that he would have been too 
 young to undertake a choregia before ca. 467 is the result of guesswork rather than of 
 evidence.'^" The only trustworthy means available for prosecuting our inquiry to a 
 certain conclusion — the restoration of the date-lines in the first columns of fragments 
 /and e, using one as a check on the other — has been overlooked entirely, chiefly, it 
 would seem, because of the fixed idea concerning the lateness of Magnes and the official 
 adoption of comedy, and also partly, no doubt, because of certain difficulties in the way 
 of any consistent reconstruction of the inscription as a whole, due to misleading or 
 incorrect reports in the Corpus as to the condition of fragments g and e. Obviously 
 
 soThe main outlines of this study were worked out t^e citizen — a tax on the wealthy— not voluntarily as- 
 some five years ago; cf. Am. Jour. Phil.. Vol. XX (1899), p. sumed, as a rule, and could hardly have heen interpreted 
 388. I visited Athens in the spring of 1899 chiefly for the by Thi'opompus, or whoever was the source of Plutarch, as 
 purpose of examininR the stones, especially to clear away marking the entry of a person upon his political career, 
 some doubts about Koehlee's reports on certain frag- Partly as the result of KOhler's interpretation, and partly 
 meats; see below, p. 19 (p) and p. 22 (e, col. 2). It was on owing to Wilamowitz's [Hermes, Vol. IX, p. 3:17) idea that 
 the strength of my conviction regarding this inscription jijg recognition of comedy was one of the events charac- 
 that I assumed ca. 140 linos also for CI A 11,972; cf. Amer. teristic of the first years of the dominant influence of Pori- 
 Jour. Arch., 2d Ser., Vol IV (1900), pp. 76, 86. dgg^ Q^e fiuds here and there an amazing misconception of 
 
 6lC/.myarticle,"TheDramaticSynchoregiaatAthens," the choregia ; e.g., Denis, La comfcUc grecqucWA. I, p. 
 
 .4m. ./our. iVii;., Vol. XVII (18%), pp. 319 ff. 121, note 2: "P6ricl6s avait besoin do munificences person- 
 
 ,„. . ,,,.,., 1 1 f 1- nelles pour gagner lo peuple et pour se I'attaclior;" and 
 
 ..2 It IS now generally admitted that the combinatum ^^^^^,^ Arisioph,me, p. 22: "C'fetait le moment on P«riclJ>s 
 
 upon wh.ch KoEHLtm (after Leo) based his theory of 63 ^„^.^ ^^.^^_. ,^^ „„i,,,,„,^ ^^ rarLstocratio eu d6poniIlant 
 
 hues has no force. Plutarch s • forty years of pubhcl.fo ,,,^,4<,„„^.e ,,« sos privil^ges. II .se pent qu'il ait voula 
 
 has to bo taken as a round number (Pericles, 16), and tho ^,^_,^ j^.^^ ^^^^^^ j^ ^^^^.^ ^ ^^^ desseins." 
 choregia is misconstrued. It was an obligation put upon 
 
 274
 
 Edward Capps 17 
 
 the inscription niusi, if possible, be interpreted and restored epigia[)lii(ally, l)y strict 
 adherence to all the indications furnished by the stones themselves, before we allow 
 ourselves to be influenced overmuch by the clironological conse(juences involved. 
 
 That the number of lines to the column in the portion under the heading was 
 three lines less than a multiple of eleven, i. e., 41, 52, 63, etc., is obvious from the fact 
 that the eleventh line in any year in col. 1 is opposite the eighth in col. 2. The lower 
 limit can be fixed by reference to the actors' contest recorded in col. 8 of frag. /. The 
 fifth line of the year (Biw-) in this column is now found to be opposite the eleventh 
 (the tragic poet) in the preceding column. The twelve-line record has therefore already 
 occurred three times before the current year, /. c, the contest of tragic actors was 
 introduced just four years before the year of the lost archon in col. 3. If the new 
 contest was introduced in the earliest possible year, in the archousliip of Habron 
 (458/7), the lost archon of col. 3 was of the year 454/3, and the column contained 
 four full years of twelve lines plus four lines, i.e., 52 lines. '^' It could not possibly 
 have been less than 52, but it may have been indefinitely more." For every additional 
 eleven lines the date of the first actors' contest, of course, is later by one year, i. p., if 
 the column contained 63 lines it would be 457/6, 74 lines 456/5, 140 lines 450/49. 
 
 We may now take up col. 1 of frag. /. Lipsius observed that the name of the 
 victorious tragic poet must have been unusually long, to judge by the position of its 
 final letter -v. We notice too that the heading rpajcoiBayv is entirely broken away — 
 another indication that the lost name was at least eleven letters lonsr. There can be no 
 question as to the correctness of Lipsius's restoration [no\v4>pdafj,Q)]v, especially since 
 his name happens to be preserved on the list of victorious tragic poets, CIA II, 977a, 
 between Aeschylus and Sophocles. The tribe Hippothontis is the only one that will 
 fit the space below the archon's name. With the knowledge thus gained we look over 
 the list of the archons of this period. There are only five names between Tlepolemus, 
 of the year 463/2 (requiring 52 lines) and Praxiergus, of 471/0 (140 lines), whose names 
 meet at all satisfactorily the conditions of space and genitive-ending. I give them in 
 juxtaposition : 
 
 Archons Year Lines 
 
 (TT0AY4>PA§MnN) 
 
 
 
 ETTITAHTTOAEMOY 
 
 463/2 
 
 52 
 
 APXIAHMIAOY 
 
 464/3 
 
 63 
 
 AY§l§TPATOY 
 
 467/6 
 
 96 
 
 GEArENIAOY 
 
 468/7 
 
 107 
 
 TTPAZIEPrOY 471/70 140 
 
 (nTTTOenNTiSTTAI-) 
 
 6^ Oehmichen, it is true, assumes 30 lines, making the fuse to consider. Mueller's dates for the actors' contest 
 
 first actors' contest tliat which happens to be recorded in (pp. 82 f.) are corrected by Bodexsteinee (p. 137). 
 col. S, or one year before. But this leaves him with two 5iThe notion that more than 63 lines would eiceed the 
 
 or three unoccupied lines after Habron's year, which he probable dimensions even of a lar^e public inscription 
 
 can only account for by assuming the interpolation of (Bodensteinee, p. 1.37) was clearly not advanced by an 
 
 some explanatory words about the actors' contest — an epigraphist; Koehlee decided upon 63 only on account 
 
 expedient which Mueller and Bodensteinee rightly re- of Pericles. 
 
 275
 
 18 
 
 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 The position of the -Y in relation to the N is correctly given in the copy on p. 15. 
 Iota occupies less than (about one-half) the space of an ordinary letter, Q a little more. 
 'Apx^^Vf^^^ov and AvaLarpdrov satisfy the space relations somewhat less satisfactorily 
 than the other three names. Lysistratus and Theagenides may be regarded as some- 
 what doubtful, besides, because of the possibility that another poet than Polyphrasmon 
 was victorious in the tragic contest the year before each of them ; Aeschylus brought 
 out the Scplcm the year before Lysistratus, and won, and Sophocles's first victory was 
 won the year before Theagenides, almost certainly at the City Dionysia." But in spite 
 of these possible objections it would be safer to regard these five names for the present 
 as all equally possible, and to seek in frag, e for the information by which we shall be 
 able to eliminate all but one of them. 
 
 971 e 
 
 XE]XOPH' 
 
 E]AIA[AS]KE 
 
 YTTOKPITH§A]0HNOAQPO§ 
 ETTISnSirENOJYS (342/1) 
 AirHI§TTAlA]QN 
 
 AI]OME[EYSEXOP]H 
 
 ITTTTOenNTISjANAPQN 
 .... EKKOIjAHSEXOPH 
 KQMaiAQN] 
 H$[EXOPH- 
 
 TPArniAQN] 
 
 EX]OPlH 
 
 A§TYAAMA5EAI]A[ASKEN^ 
 
 I 57))i«x('*1^l' !-Ai)s or -ills, 
 
 -'i Wc know from C I A II, 973, that Astydamas was the 
 victor in .')41. If I rishtly detect the faint outlines of a A in 
 
 EJTTIAPlST[0]<t>ANOYS (331/0) 
 OINHI§TTAIAn[N 
 
 T05[AXJAPN[EY§EX0PH 
 
 lTTTTO0fiNT15ANAP[QN 
 
 OS[TT]EI[P]AIE[YSEXOPH 
 
 [KQMJQIA[nN' 
 
 TPArjQ[IAQN 
 
 thfl position indicate wf» havp a slipht confirmation of 
 tlip re>tf>ration t»f ir«n>jgenes. 
 * Very faint traces. 
 
 The archon Aristophanes was of the year 881/0. Since the restoration viroKpirr)^ 
 in the first column is certain (for the word is never abbreviated in this inscription), the 
 name of the archon just below, with the genitive-ending -ov<?, was about ten letters in 
 leno^th. Now if we try here the several line-numbers shown to be possible by our 
 consideration of frag. /, we find that only one archon of the five, the one representing 
 a column of 140 lines, fulfils the conditions, as the following table will show: 
 
 B^ Pliitarrh, Cimon. 8 rolatps that the dorision was 
 committeU lo the ten Keuerals by Apsephinn. the first 
 
 archon, who was eTidently. therefore, in charpe of the 
 contest. 
 
 276
 
 Edwakd Capps 19 
 
 Lines 
 
 Arcbous frai^. <* 
 
 Year 
 
 Archons frig./ 
 
 
 (YTTOKPITHSA0H-) 
 
 
 
 52 
 
 ETTinYGOAHAOY 
 
 336/5 
 
 Tlepolemus 
 
 63 
 
 <t>PYNIXOY 
 
 337/6 
 
 Archidemides 
 
 96 
 
 AYSIMAXOY 
 
 339/8 
 
 Lysistratus 
 
 07 
 
 eEO<t>PA§TOY 
 
 340/39 
 
 Theogeuides 
 
 40 
 
 sn^irENOYs 
 
 842/1 
 
 Praxiergus 
 
 There would seem to be no room for doubt that the name of Sosigenes is to be 
 restored here and that of Praxiergus in frag. /, if we are right in assuming that the 
 columns throughout the inscription contained the same, or nearly the same, number 
 of lines. But this assumption may not be right, and so no conclusion can be accepted 
 as final until it has been tested rigorously by the other fragments. 
 
 Frag, h (see Plate IV, at the end of the article) also contains an archon's name 
 in its second column, Ce[)hisophon of 329/8, and broken line-ends in the first. Its 
 position was near the top of the slab, for only two year-lists intervene between Aristo- 
 phanes, about 17 lines from the bottom of col. 2 of e, and Cephisophon. The first 
 column of h therefore continued the first of e, and its second column the second of e. 
 The exact interval can now be determined. The first line of the column in which was 
 the first column of /* was the twelfth line in the year of Sosigenes, and this is known 
 from C I A II, 97.3 — {moKpiTi-jt; NeoTrroXe/io?. There can be no doubt of the correctness 
 of Kohler's restoration of -\o? in the third line of /(, col. 1, as [ uTro/c/str?;? ©eTrajXo?. 
 This line was therefore the 13th from the top, and ©eTraXo? was in the last line of the 
 year 841/0. The name of Cephisophon stood in the 18th line of the second column. 
 I shall discuss later on the irregularities in this second column of /;; as to the first 
 column, we know from 973 that Thettalus was indeed the victor in 340, and that 
 Astydamas was the successful poet. The position of -aKev just above -Xo? gives pre- 
 cisely the space required for the name of Astydamas. We may therefore look upon 
 this fragment as confirming the restoration of Sosigenes in frag, c and of Praxiergus 
 in frag. /. 
 
 I had reached this point in the demonstration some five years ago, when occupied 
 with the series of inscriptions relating to the dramatic contests. I could find no solu- 
 tion of fragments/ and r except on the basis of 140 lines. Frag, ij, however, seemed 
 to be wholly at variance with this result, and, besides, blocked the way to any other 
 solution. It contains eight lines, including a complete date-line — Themistocles, the 
 archon of 347/6, i. e., five years before Sosigenes. According to the hypothesis of 140 
 lines, therefore, it must have had a position in the same column as the first column of 
 frag, e, and about half-way up the column ; for e was at the bottom of its slab, as 
 Kfihler reported ; and this report is shown to be correct by the fact that a portion of 
 the record of the year after Aristophanes was at the top of the next column after e (t .e., 
 frag, h, col. 2). But Kohler also reported that frag, g retains an original upper margin, 
 so that it must have stood at the top of a column. Now if Sosigenes was correctly 
 
 277
 
 20 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 restored in r, and Kohler s observation regarding the upper margin of g was correct, 
 this column would have contained only 70 lines, though the next column seemed to 
 have 140. Either Kohler or my hypothesis was wrong. With this dilemma in mind 
 I made a careful examination of frag, g, and was not surprised to find that the present 
 upper margin is not original, but the result of a later cutting. The fragment had 
 been put to some architectural use after it had been broken off. The broken letters 
 which Kohler reports in the first line some distance below the present margin are, 
 in fact, immediately below and on the margin (Plate IV) ; this line was half cut 
 away when the present iipper siirface was made. Frag, g, therefore, is not against the 
 hypothesis."' 
 
 The reconstruction of the early portions of the inscription on the basis of 140 
 lines to the column has been found to be the oidy poseible solution of one of the three 
 two-column fragments (rj, and the most suitable, if not the only, solution of the other 
 two (/, /(), and at the same time not opposed to the facts regarding frag. g. It remains 
 only to test this result by considering the reconstruction as a whole. Two tests must 
 be a[>plied: (1) The intervals between any two fragments whoso position in the column 
 is fixed should yield an even number of twelve-line lists distributed over an even 
 number of columns of 140 lines without excess or deficiency of lines, and (2) the other 
 fragments which we have not considered must find a suitable position within the 
 column, /. c, the records contained in them must not be broken by column-divisions. 
 The only fragments to be considered under the latter head are b and </. The former 
 contains the archon of 422/1. It would fall well within the third column to the right 
 of frag. f. The undated d would fit into any reconstruction, but the mention of the 
 comic 2'oet Procleides indicates that the date is somewhere near the thirties." There- 
 fore it may have had a place above Aristophanes, frag, e, col. 2, and below Thettalus 
 in frag, h, col. 1 ; or it may have stood between frag, g and the first column of e, as I 
 have placed it in the Plate IV. 
 
 The first-named test is a rigorous one to apply to a document so fragmentary, for 
 all sorts of inequalities, such as I have already suggested and such as are actually 
 found in the last two columns, may have affected the lost portions. Besides, the extent 
 of the heading over the columns, occupying the space of two lines, is as yet absolutely 
 unknown. But the test must nevertheless be made, though we should not expect a 
 perfect mathematical proof. Beginning, then, with fragg. a and /, the former of 
 of which is fixed in position, let us test the interval down to the first column of e, 
 which also is fixed. In order to get a date to begin with, let us assume that / was 
 directly under a, as I have jjlaced it in the plate, with the smallest possible interval; 
 the lost archon in the IGth line of the third column would accordingly, on the supposi- 
 
 5&The tragic poet in tho fourth line, rrported as -fM]vi^ II. SI77g, to establish the date of the list in 971(/. I had 
 
 by KoFJII.EK, was. I think.Aslydamas. Though the surface not then recognized 977r/ as Leuaean. MirRLLER's criti- 
 
 is in very bad condition, traces of tho letters . . i \ A V A/ . 5 cisin of the logic of niy argnnieut is well takou {licrl phit. 
 
 can be made out. irtich , VoL XX (lUOl), col. 21,'i), but the pci/oi/ to which I 
 
 "C/.^»i.Jo«r.Phi(.,Vol.XVI(1896),p.32.'J. I there used then assigned Procleides is right-thn second half of the 
 
 tho position of Trocloides in tho list of comic poets, CIA century instead of tlw first (KoKULEU). 
 
 278
 
 Edward Capps 21 
 
 tion of 140 lines, be Callimachus, 446/5. Sosigenes, 342/1, was in the 130tli line of 
 the column. The interval of 104 years between Callimafhus and Sosigenes, at the 
 normal rate of 12 lines to the year, would require 1248 lines. Now 12.j of tlicse are 
 needed to fill out the column after Callimachus, and 129 for the column above Sosigenes. 
 This leaves 994 lines for the full columns between, or 14 lines more than would 
 be accommodated by seven columns of 140 lines. Assuming, again, that frag. / 
 was separated from a by a larger interval, the reuiaiiuhsr becomes larger also — 2-J, .36, 
 47, etc., lines according as the interval was one full year (11 lines), or two or three 
 years, respectively. In other words, the records of the 104 years require more space 
 by 14, 25, 36, 47, etc., lines than columns of 140 lines will yield. We have proceeded, 
 however, as if the heading extended over all these columns. Obviously a limited 
 number of extra lines are available if the space of two lines occupied by the heading 
 in the first part of the inscription was used for the yearly record after the headint^ 
 ceased; but this could not be more than l(j lines, for there were only eight columns 
 between Callimachus and Sosigenes. The first remainder of 14 lines, therefore, should 
 not disturb us. If / was close up to a, the heading was wanting in seven of these 
 eight columns, i. e., it extended over one column beyond frag. /. It is easy to see 
 that this is the correct solution. The interval could not possibly have been one, three, 
 or five years, because the resulting number of lines left between Callimachus and 
 Sosigenes would be an odd numl)er, while just 1248 are required. It is altogether 
 improbable, further, that the interval was two, four, or six years ; at any rate we may 
 not assume such an interval, because we should be obliged at the same time to assume 
 a constantly increasing irregularity in the annual lists, and that, too, of the most 
 improbable kind — the contraction of the lists to less than 12 lines for each year. 
 Clearly the only safe course is to assume that the twelve-line lists were constant, and 
 that / was as close as possible to a, and that the heading extended over one column 
 beyond the third column of /. The hypothesis of 140 lines has therefore met the 
 most rigid test fully, and we have incidentally arrived at two facts of considerable 
 importance for the reconstruction of the inscription as a whole. 
 
 Applying the same test to fragments c and A, we obtain results not quite so 
 remarkable for their precision, but yet not such as to discredit the conclusion which 
 we have reached. The first column of frag, c connects properly with the first of /(, as 
 we have already seen. After this point we must recognize the existence of two lacunae, 
 i. e., the normal twelve-lines lists do not quite fill out the space. The first is in the 
 column above Aristophanes. This name should be the 133d after Sosigenes ; it is, in 
 fact, the 137th, about.*' Four lines between the years 340 and 331 were therefore 
 used for entries of which we have no knowledge. Again, between the second column of 
 e and the second of h is more space by six lines, as I reckon it,*^" than is needed for the 
 two years between Aristophanes and Cephisophon, after allowing for the spreading out 
 
 69 The lines in the two columns are not exactly opposite. year began in the first line of the last column. This 
 80 Eighteen lines are left for the year 331 0, if the next assumes 143 lines for this column (col. xiv in Plate). 
 
 279
 
 22 The Intboduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 of the entries in the last column. The lower part of e is so corroded that Kohler 
 thought there had never been writing upon it ; but some of the space left vacant by him 
 must have been used — all but the space of six lines, and more if the irregularity in 
 the column above this point continued. And I am certain that I made out traces, 
 though exceedingly faint, of letters in the upper part of this space. The existence of 
 these lacunae does not vitiate in the least the conclusions reached above, for the evi- 
 dence for the first eleven columns could scarcely be more clear and conclusive, as it 
 seems to me. We can only explain the lacunae by supposing that occasionally, after 340, 
 something new in the programme of the festival required additional space in the record. 
 
 I may add here that the number of columns to the slab seems not to have been 
 always the same. The last slab, containing fragg. g, e, d, h, had three columns, for 
 the left margin of g is preserved, and the crowding in the second column of /( indicates 
 that this was the last column on the slab." There is no such crowding in the third 
 column of /; this slab had three columns, perhaps more. Assuming three, the 
 seven columns lying between / and g may have been distributed: 4+3, or 3+4, 
 or 3 + 2 + 2. I should think the chances somewhat against the supposition of a slab 
 of more than three columns, and in favor of a series of threes and twos. 
 
 This part of our reconstruction is complete. All the positive indications 
 furnished by the fragments are in favor of 140 lines for the first four columns, and for 
 142 for the rest. None of the available means of control — and they seem to be 
 adequate — tends to throw suspicion upon this result." We turn now to the second 
 task — to fix the position of frag. / with relation to frag, a, though the result has 
 already been anticipated in the preceding argument. 
 
 The first two columns of / must have continued the two columns of a, as both 
 Kohler and Lipsius assumed. Frag. /. cannot have preceded o, for the victories of 
 Aeschylus and Magnes in a would then have been later than the Orestein. Nor can 
 / follow a, as Oehmichen assumed, for then the choregia of Pericles would go back 
 into the nineties. The fact that frag, a was in the first column on its slab, as is shown 
 by the preserved left margin, prevents the placing of the second column of /under the 
 first column of a, and the resulting early date of Pericles's choregia likewise prevents 
 the placing of the first column of / under the second column of a.'' We are there- 
 fore obliged to consider / a direct continuation of a. 
 
 The interval between the two fragments has already been determined by the 
 space required for the 104 years between Callimachus and Sosigenes; Caliimachus 
 cannot have been below the 16th line in its column. The victories of Aeschylus, 
 Pericles, and Magnes were won in the archonship of Menon, 473/2. This was the year 
 of Aeschylus's victory with the Pcrsac-tTiiogj. There is nothing against this date 
 
 ''''ThocrfiwdinK may be due simply to the leiifith of lino f'STho introduction of the actors' contest is fixed by the 
 
 required in tin- first two columns of tho slab. The aviirnuo Icnuth of the column (p. 17, above) ; it was in 450/49, archon 
 
 for thi' flr-'t two columns is 20 letters to the line, while in a Kuthynus, 
 
 and / the avoraKO is about 17 or 18. But in this column 63 An arranKCment which Koden'STEINER thoucht do- 
 
 there is room for only 15, The slab was therefore wide served consideration. But with 140 lines it is of course 
 
 enough for three columns of tho usual width. out of tho question, 
 
 280
 
 Edward Capps 23 
 
 in the fact that Pericles was choregus. For auglit we know ]w was born ca. 500,** 
 and we know of one person who served as tragic choregus at tlie age of 18/''^ 
 
 2. The lists of victorious comic poets, Dionysid (ind Lcmicd. — We have already 
 reached a date for Magnes and the beginning of the official comic contests at least 
 as early as 473/2, and in so far have found a substantial confirmation for our interpre- 
 tation of Aristotle. But we have also another inscrij)tional doi'uuient which mentions 
 Magnes, and its epoch date was certainly the year of tlie first victor in the comic 
 contest at the City Dionysia. Through it we can establish the fact that Magnes had 
 predecessors in the competitions prior to the year 473, and that in all probability 
 Magnes himself exhibited and won victories consideraV)ly before the archonship of 
 Menon. It will be advantageous to have this additional evidence before us before 
 we continue our study of the catalogue of victors. 
 
 The name of Magnes occurs again in the ('atalogues of victorious comic poets, 
 at the top of fragment i of C I A II, 1^77. I give (p. 24) the text of this fragment 
 and of the first column (frag, d) of the corresponding list for the other festival. The 
 headings are restored in the manner which seems to me best to meet the requirements 
 of both the remains of the Lenaean heading and the purpose of the catalogue. I 
 have elsewhere tried to establish the fact that frag. / is the Dionysian list, frag, d the 
 Lenaean, and need not repeat my arguments here.'" Accepting this classification, and 
 employing the data furnished by the inscription which we have just considered and by 
 various didascalic notices, we may gain some idea concerning the period indicated by 
 the position of Magnes's name and concerning the beginning of the Dionysian cata- 
 logue, which, of course, began with the first victor at the comic contest after the 
 admission of comedy into the City Dionysia. 
 
 In the full column under the heading there were originally fifteen names. The 
 names are arranged chronologically in the order of first victories. It may therefore 
 happen that the same poet may be mentioned at a considerably later period in one list 
 than in the other, as for example Cratinus won a Lenaean victory much later than his 
 first victory at the Dionysia. But in general a poet is earlier in the Lenaean list. To 
 ascertain the period in which the first victory of Magnes fell we must learn from other 
 sources the dates of the first Dionysian victories of other poets who followed him, and 
 
 64SoKiRCHNEK, Prosnp. Alt,: "natusest nonmulto post glad to note that ray results have been accepted by Kiech- 
 
 a. 500." He was born before the ostracism of his father ner, Pro&opographia Attica^ Add. et Corrig. in Vol. II 
 
 in 484 (Beloch, Gr. Gescft., Vol. I, p. 46.5, note 5). .\ristotle (1903), and Keause, De Apollorlorls comicis, diss. Berol. 
 
 characterizes him as »'€oc in 4*33, i. c, "in the thirties" (1903), p. 30. The late Professor Kaibel also wrote me in 
 
 (■A9. OoA., 27,1). There is no grround whatever for SusE- approval, although in hisarticleson the comic poets in the 
 
 mihl's assumption, Bevue dc philologie. Vol. XIX (1895), Pauly-Wissowa EncychjpCidie he had followed the current 
 
 p. 199; "vixque Pericles iam choregi tifficiis functus est, classification. Albert Mueller in his able review of my 
 
 priusquam ad rempublicam accederet administrandani." article, Berl. philoi. Wocheiischr.^ 1901, 2tti ff., advances a 
 
 This liturgy was imposed upon the rich without any regard series of objections to my methods of argumentation — 
 
 to their prominence in public atl'airs. objections often valid enough taken singly, and in most 
 
 65 Lysias, 21, 1. The defendant was in the year of his 
 hoKifxaaia, 
 
 cases expressly acknowledged by me. But his defense of 
 
 Bergk's classification is based upon the false assumption 
 
 that there was ever any valid reason in favor of it. It is 
 
 t>6 " The Catalogues of Victors at the City Dionysia, enough if I have shown that my classification satisfies the 
 
 CI A II, 977," Am. Jour. Phil., \oi. XX (1899), pp. 388 £f. evidence better than Bergk's; the burden of proof should 
 
 The classification in the Corpus is just the opposite. I am not be on the objector in this case. 
 
 281
 
 24 
 
 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 Lenaea 
 CIA II, 977 d 
 [KQMlKQNTAAHNAI]A[TTOJHTnN 
 [OIAEENIKJQN 
 
 E]ENO<t>IAOS I 
 THAEKAEIAHS 
 APISTOMENHS 
 KPATINOS III 
 <t>EPEKPATHS 
 EPMITTTTOS Mil 
 •t'PYNIXOS 11 
 MYPTIAOS I 
 EYJTTOAIS III 
 
 TT 
 II 
 
 1 It is strange that Kiechnee, Prosop. Att,,s. v, Mayoj?, 
 should doubt this restoratioQ. due to Koeblee. which uot 
 ouly fits the space, but also explains the eleven victories 
 assij^ned Magnes by Anon, jt, Kui^L. II Kaib. Beegk's ob- 
 jection was based upon a faulty chronology and a misstate- 
 ment cornccrning Anonymous; cf. Am, Jour. Phil., Vol. 
 XX, p. 398, note 1. 
 
 2 0ehmichen's 'A^-Kifielvrjs suits the space and what we 
 know ot the poet; cf. Meineke, Hist, crit., p. 101. I do not 
 
 Dioiiysiu 
 CIA II, 977 / 
 
 [KQMIKQNENASTEITTOHTQN 
 OlAEENIKQNj 
 
 MAfNHJS Al' 
 
 § I 
 
 NHS P 
 
 § I 
 
 EY<5>PONJI05 I' 
 EK^-ANJTIAHS- 
 KPATIJNOS TTI 
 AIOTTJEI0HS II' 
 KPA]TH§ III 
 KAAAIAJSIP 
 
 understand on what grounds K.\IBEL in Pauly-Wissowa 
 regards the name, and the title of the play attributed to 
 him, as a fraud. 
 
 3 Due to Oehmichen. 
 
 *My restoration. Oehmichen's *iAo]Tr€t0jj9 is impos- 
 sible. Cf, Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX, p. 396, note. 
 
 5 Ain. Jour. Phr'l., Vol. XX, p. 31*6, note : cf. p. 15, /. col. 3, 
 above. KiEfHN'EE, Frosiiji. Atf.^ Vol. II, p. 4fi7, seems to 
 look with favor upon this restoration. 
 
 make an estimate of the interval of time which separates their names in tlie list.*^' We 
 may also in this way gain some information as to the luimber of poets whose names 
 preceded his in the list. 
 
 To begin wiih. the last name, we have seen that the comic poet KaX-, who won 
 the prize in the year 447/() (971/, col. 3), is probably KaWm?, whose name makes a 
 perfect restoiation here. The first city victories of Crates and of Cratinus are probably 
 indicated by the entries of Eusebius under the years 451/0 and 453/2 respectively,^^ 
 BO that we may properly assume that the victory of 447/1) was the first wcm by Callias. 
 The one victory of Eu})hronius is recorded in *J71 under the year of Philocles, 459/8. 
 These four dates for the five names are entirely in harmony with each other — 
 
 67This method was followed by Oehmichen, "Ueber 
 
 die Aufanpe der dramatischf^n Wi-ttkampfe in Athen," 
 Sitzumjsl/tr. (I. k, Ixiycr. Akail. d. Wtss. zu. Miinckcn^ i)hilos.- 
 philol. Clas.so (18Uit), l'>5 S. Ho also jjlaccs MuKues as h)w 
 as possible, and reaches the year 47S for the !K.%'innin^; of 
 the contest, 472 for the other list. But his art'omentatiou 
 is weak and exceediuyly superficial in details. 
 
 c*» Vers. Arnien., su6 01.822; Crates comicus et Telcsila 
 cognoscebantur ; sul* 01. SI* : Cratinus et Platou ctmiici his 
 
 temporibus surgebant. So also Hieronymous and Syncel- 
 lus; cf. Anon. n. icwja. II Kaib. couceruins Cratinus's first 
 yictory ; I'l^a fitrd rrji- no.' o\. (the correction from nt is cer- 
 tain; see vim. Jour. Philol.,, Vol. XX, p. Umi), The error as 
 regards Plato should not bo held to vitiate the whole 
 notice, since the part which has to do with Cratinus is 
 niaiiifestly correct. The "epoch years" of these two poets 
 were determined, then, by their first victories at the City 
 Dionysia. 
 
 282
 
 Edwaku Capi's 25 
 
 Euphronius 458, Cratinus 452, Crates 450, and Callias 446. The six poets mentioned 
 between the years 458 and 44fi won just one-half of the victories in these twelve 
 years. The others were won l)y tlni predecessors of Eu])hronius; and not by the three 
 immediately preceding, for they won oidy one victf)ry eacli, but by Magnes and his 
 predecessors. Again, we see that th(! name immediately following Magnes is to be 
 restored in U71/, col. 1, as the victor of the year 972/1. In the thirteen years 
 between this unknown poet and Euphronius, ten victories were won by Magnes and 
 his iH'edecessors. Magnes himself won only eleven times eV ao-rei in his whole career, anil 
 although we learn from Aristoj)hanes {KiiiijJifs, 524) that his successes were won in his 
 youth, and that he failed to j)lease in old age, it is inconceivable that all his victories 
 were won between the recorded victory of 472 and the year of Euphronius. We 
 are obliged to assume, therefore, that one or more names preceded his in the list, witli 
 victories enough to their credit to fill up the catalogue down to 44(j; v. r., with alxjut 
 seven at the least. The reputation of Chionides, whose name was linked with that of 
 Magnes, in all probaliility was based upon a marked success in the competitions, as 
 well as upon his early date ; for he was not the only poet who competed in the early 
 years after the admission of comedy. We should not be far wrong, I believe, if we 
 should place Magnes as far down in this column as possible, assuming, say, four names 
 before him, as I have done above. And this would bring the date of tlie first victory 
 of Magnes some years before 472, possibly into the eighties, and Chionides might 
 easily, as far as this list is concerned, have competed in the official contests as early as 
 the year recorded by 8uidas, 488 or 487. 
 
 The Lenaean list in frag, d points to quite as early a date for the introduction of 
 the comic contest into the Lenaea. By a consideration of all the datable Lenaean vic- 
 tories in the fifth century I have elsewliere'' shown that the tirst names in this frag- 
 ment miist be placed about 450 to 445. One full column of fifteen names must have 
 preceded this column, as is shown by the heading. Assuming even a low average of victo- 
 ries in the early period covered by the lost first column, we again reach the eighties for 
 the beginning of the Lenaean list. Since the average number of victories won by the 
 early poets at the Dionysia was relatively high, there is nothing against the supposi- 
 tion that comedy was introduced into the Lenaea and the City Dionysia at the same 
 time. Aristotle's words, 6 ap)(^a>v eSooKev, as we have seen, do not necessarily refer to 
 tlie City Dionysia, but may be interpreted as indicating simply the establishment of 
 the comic choregia. Frag, d is a proof that this interpretation is right." 
 
 3. The epoch dafe of ilte great ccdrdogue. — Returning now to the great catalogue 
 of victors with the information which we have derived from the lists of comic poets, 
 
 69 "Chronological Studies in the Greek Tragic and text of the hypothesis to the Plutus. But I now believe 
 
 Comic Poets," Am, Jour. Fhif., Vol, XXI (I'.iOO), pp, 52 ff., that we have evidence in Tnsc. Gruec. Sic. et Hal.. 10^7, t() 
 
 in a discussion of .\ristomenos, whose first Lenaean victory prove that there was only one .\ristomeues and that ho 
 
 I dated ca. 44.5. I there raised again the question pro- competed in ;1S8. 
 
 pounded by Bergk, whether the Aristomenes of this list ^^ i do not mean that it is proved that the admission of 
 
 could be the same as tlie rival of Aristophanes of the year comedy into the two festivals took place in the same year, 
 
 S88. Beegk thought that there must have been two poets probable as it may seem, but that Aristotle did not intend 
 
 of the name, and I was inclined to suspect an error in the to distinguish between the festivals. 
 
 283
 
 26 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 let us try to determine what possibilities are ofFered in the lost first slab for the begin- 
 ning of the eleven-line year-lists somewhere in the ten or fifteen years preceding the 
 archonship of Meiion. A number of possibilities will naturally ofFer themselves, and 
 the choice among them will have to be determined by considerations other than 
 epio'raphical. But it will be well to have surveyed the field, at any rate, and to have 
 reduced the possibilities to the narrowest limits. 
 
 One slab of probably not more than three columns nor less than two preceded 
 fragment a. The record of victors began with the name of the archou at the very top 
 of one of these columns." From the available space in these columns we must deduct 
 the six lines needed to fill out the year of Menon. The numbers to be dealt with 
 are accordingly: 3 cols., 414 11.; 2 cols., 274: 11.; 1 col., 134 11. The epoch date of 
 the stone will be either an even number, without remainder, of ll's, if the introduc- 
 tion of comedy into the City Dionysia is the epoch date, or of a combination of 8"s and 
 ll's, if it was some other important event in the history of the contests at this festival. 
 
 The epoch date of the inscription was not the first comic contest under state 
 auspices, as has been maintained by Bergk, Reisch, and particularly by Wilamowitz; 
 for, carrying the eleven-line lists back to the beginning of the first, second, and third 
 columns, there is an excess of 2,"' 10, and 7 lines respectively. This is the sound 
 conclusion of Ixjth Miiller and Bodensteiner, and relieves us of the painful necessity of 
 making tcaifxot in the heading ec|uivalent to KWfiwhlai, against which numerous protests 
 have been raised. We must look for some event earlier than the epoch date of comedy. 
 
 The events, of which we have knowledge, which must be taken into consideration 
 as possible epoch dates, are: (1) The first tragic exhibition, by Thespis in 585/4. 
 Brinck, in his admirable discussion of this question, has shown that, even if records 
 were kept of the performances from this early period, yet it is altogether improbable 
 that there should have been regular annual contests during the whole of this period. 
 We know that the chorus of men dates only from 509/S," and comedy from a time 
 many years later. If the epoch were the first exhibition of tragedy, it is strange that 
 ■)(^opol Tpa'yaihoiv, or the equivalent, was not used in the heading, instead of the more 
 general term kwjioi, "celebrations." (2) The establishment of the musical contests at 
 the Dionysia. This is the idea of the majority, though expressed in a variety of 
 ways ; but it is an idea based upon the fragmentary heading, and leaves us as much in 
 the dai'k as ever. (3) The establishment of the choregic system at the City Dionysia. 
 This is essentially Brinck's suggestion, and he would date this event 508 or soon 
 
 71 OEIiMicnEN assumed that if the heading contained botii headin^i and columns work out satisfactorily without 
 
 tho archou's name it would not have been needed at the this assumption. 
 
 beginning of the first year and on this (,'round adopted the 7l!oi6e iviKiav, it is true, may have occupied the extra 
 
 theory of two columns of tlu; 11-lino year-lists. Ho accord- two lines on the assumption of one column. This W()uld 
 
 iuifly restored 'Etti Mti'weo?, *(/»' oy, etc. But, as Muellee make the epoch tiate 4H.V'l. But, as we have seen, a slab of 
 
 pointed out, it would have to bo 'Atto .Mecoji-os, etc. The date one ct)lumn is improbable. Other reasons will appear in 
 
 line of the first year could therefore not bo dispensed with. the more satisfactory solution. 
 
 It has occurred to me as juissiblo that the oiS« ifUi^v was 7;i Archonship of Lysacoras; see Muneo on the Parian 
 
 reserved out of the first line and set over the first column, Marble, Claw. Rev., Vol. XV (1901). p. 3^1. The date usu- 
 
 as in 977. This woulil give two linos less to deal with. Hut ^\\y given, Isagoras, 508 7, must bo corrected accordingly. 
 
 284
 
 Edwakd C a PI'S 27 
 
 after, depending upon tlie Parian Marble's notice about the first chorus of men 
 in the year of Lysagoras. 
 
 The establishment of the choregic system seems to nie tcj he, on Die whole, by far 
 the most plausible suggestion for thi^ ejioch event. It was at that lime that the archon 
 first granted a chorus to tragedy and to the dithyramb. From that time dated the 
 foundation and organization of these contests, so peculiarly an Attic institution, upon 
 the basis which maintained itself for the next two centuries. The essential feature of 
 this organization, as we see it in this inscription, was ilui chcjregia itself, and tlie par- 
 ticipation of the tribes in the lyric contests. These both presujipose the democratic 
 institutions of Cleisthenes. Before that time the exhibitions of dithyramb and tragedy 
 had depended upon the patronage of individuals and of eOeXovrai. Neither the patrons 
 nor the choruses represented the free people in the sense in which they did under the 
 choregic system. It would be natural that the democracy should pride itself not a 
 little upon the brilliant results of this system, and that Aristotle, the historian of these 
 contests, should have selected this innovation as the great epocli Ijy which should bo 
 dated the beginning of that glorious history. 
 
 This hypothesis wins in plausibility when we place ourselves, in relation to this 
 great document as a whole, in the position of the compilers of the records of these 
 two centuries of contests, kept in the archives of the state, which they were author- 
 ized to put upon marble and erect upon the acropolis. The record was [)robably not con- 
 tinued, at least in this form, after the discontinuance of the choregic system. Soon 
 after Aristotle's death, between 31() and 309," the choregia was displaced by the 
 agonothesia. The democratic institution was abolished and the state reverted to a form 
 of that patronage which existed before Cleisthenes. The whole conception of the 
 musical contests had by this time suffered a complete change. When the state officials 
 undertook to set up a permanent record of the victors under the old system in the 
 contests — a magnificent testimony to the ideals of the old democracv now dead — what 
 epoch could they more appropriately have chosen than the date of the establishment 
 of the institution which, more than any other agency, had rendered this remarkable 
 record possible? It was a review from the beginning to the end of the system in 
 which public-spirited citizens, not independent patrons nor agonothetes in the guise of 
 representatives of the demos, vied with each other to the honor of Dionysus and the 
 edification of their fellow-citizens. 
 
 When was the choregia established? The inscription may help to decide; but let 
 us first liriug together the few independent data. It can hardly have been one of the 
 institutions of Cleisthenes himself. In the stormy year of Isagoras, after his brief 
 term of exile when Cleomenes came up from Sparta, he dovibtless accomplished little 
 more than Aristotle indicates in the'AOrjvaioav YloXireia, 20 f: the formation of the ten 
 tribes, the establishment of the Boule of 500, the lavinsf out of Attica into demes, 
 the demarchs to take the place of naukrai'oi, the naming of the demes and tribes, and 
 
 '1 In SO.t 6 accurdiug to Koehler. 
 
 285
 
 28 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 some important legislation for the strengthening of his political machine. It was not 
 imtil the year of Hermocreon, eVet TrefiTrro) fxeja ravTTjv rrjv Kardaraaiv, that we learn 
 of an innovation that siiggests the wider use of the tribal system such as is implied in 
 the choregia for lyric contests. At that time the senatorial oath was formulated; 
 eVeiTa tou? (jTpaTijyoii'; ypoOvTo Kara (f>v\m, i^ e/caixTj;? t?";? (^fXr)? em. Here is an 
 application of the new system of tribes to administration — the essential feature of 
 the lyric choregia. The choregia itself may, of course, have been established some 
 years later, but it is not likely to have been earlier, than Hermocreon. Unhappily 
 we do not know the exact date of this archon, for, although the irefiTrTa) would mean 
 504/3 or 503/2, yet in the next sentence Aristotle dates the battle of Marathon /xera 
 ravTa ScoSe/caro).'* But the period is clearly enough defined. 
 
 Guided by these considerations, let us see if a reconstruction of the lost begin- 
 ning of the inscription can be obtained which shall satisfy the two fundamental condi- 
 tions — a suitable epoch date for the inscription itself and a date for the first comic 
 contest which shall be consistent with all the evidence which we have reviewed. 
 Three columns before frag, a would carry us beyond the establishment of the democracy ; 
 one is imiirobable. On the supposition of two columns, however, two possibilities are 
 offered if we i-eckon from the the victory of Magnes in the year of Menon:'^ 
 
 1. The first comic contest, 479/8; the epoch date of the inscription, 505/4. 
 
 2. The first comic contest, 487/6; the epoch date of the inscription, 502/1. 
 
 If Aristotle meant to define the epoch date of comedy strictly by reference to the 
 same epoch for tragedy, the granting of a chorus by the archon, some may feel that 
 the interval of fifteen years offered by (2) is insufficient to justify the phrase 6-\}re 
 TTore, and on this ground may prefer to accept the interval of 26 years offered by (1) ; 
 although, in the case of Epicharmus and Chionides, the scant 14 years between 
 their assumed "epochs" are generally thought ample for the ttoWw TrpoVe/so?. I 
 am inclined to think, however, that we are not at liberty to interpret Aristotle so 
 strictly," inasmuch as we know that tragedy had a standing in the state festivals long 
 before the democracy, indeed as early as 534." We must remember, too, that oyjr^ 
 may refer to the relatively late stage in the development of comedy at which recogni- 
 tion was accorded by the state, and not merely to a term of years after tragedy. By either 
 of the alternatives, therefore, the demands of Aristotle's text will be satisfied. But 
 we must take into consideration here three other factors in the question which 
 have been discussed, viz.: (1) the list of victorious comic poets, which demands 
 several names before Magnes and a number of contests before him which the six 
 
 'SKlRCHNEE, in his list of archons at the end of the ^^The full list of possibilities, mathematically speak* 
 
 second volume of his i'rofio;*. Att.^ assigns Herm<tcreon ing, is as follows : 
 
 provisionally to MI 0, in this following Wii.amowitz, 274 lines — 495 and 4M; 4K7 and .'i02: 479 and Sttj. 
 
 AriBtotclcs und Athc, Vol. I, p. 24. The year .004 3 is taken q^ ^^^^ assumption that oc6. .V.«a,.. occupied two lines of 
 
 by Accstondfis. It sci-nis to mo possible to explain ..-.,, .. « u i. 
 
 Aristotle without altering eith.T of these flgnres by mak- ♦'"' ^''^ ™'"""' ""O figures would bo: 
 ing (lera TaOra refer to the changi's indicated from .VeiTo 272 lines— 197 and 49S ; 489 and 501 ; 481 and .504 ; 473 and 507 
 
 on, and regarding them as subsequent (by (me year) to " See p. 10, ami note 33. 
 
 Hermocreon : Isagoras, .508: Acestorides, 504; Hermocreon, ;« jt jg ^nrd to see how anyone can interpret .i- iimi in 
 
 503; ;^U7„, 506 ; Marathon, 490. jj^^ Parian Marble to mean anything but the City Dionysia 
 
 286
 
 Edwaku Capps 29 
 
 years offered in the first alternative would scarcely satisfy; (2) the notice of Suidas 
 about Chionidos — since the victory of Magnes was won in 478/2, we ol)tain in the 
 second alternative precisely the date given by Suidas;'" and (3) the probability of the 
 establishment of the choregia, considered as an institution, not far from the archon- 
 ship of Hermocreon. These considerations would all favor the second alternative. 
 We might add also (4) the slight evidence of the list of victorious tragic poets, 977a. 
 The name of Aeschylus is first in the fragment. His first victory was won in 
 485/4. Possibly as many as eight names preceded him on the list, but not more. 
 And yet, if the epoch date of the list were 20 years before the first victory of 
 Aeschylus, the poets of this period maintained a surprisingly high average of victories. 
 At any rate, 502 is just a little more probable, on this ground also, than 505. In 
 view, therefore, of all these considerations, we may conclude with a fair degree of con- 
 fidence, as it seems to me, that the dramatic and lyric choregia was established in the 
 year 502/1, and that the first comic contest at the Dionysia took place in 487/6. 
 
 A word as to the heading of the great inscription : It extended over six columns, 
 with nine or ten letters to the column. About twenty letters, therefore, preceded 
 -t] ou KOffMoi and about twenty-five followed ^crav tm-. The restoration irpwr^ov may be 
 regarded as certain. KMfioi, however, if the meaning is simply "celebrations," were not 
 held for the first time in 501; dithyrambic exhibitions as well as tragedies had charac- 
 terized the City Dionysia for many years before this. I take it that km/xoi would have 
 no proper application in siich a contest except when joined to the name of a festival. 
 Poppelreuter'" has aptly compared Eurip. HcL, 1409: km/jloi 'TaKiv6ov:='TaKiv0ia. 
 This would give us here the name of the festival, which, besides, we should regard as 
 indispensable in the heading of such a document, where the Dionysia had to be distin- 
 guished from the Lenaea, as, c. (j., in the lists of victors above. Then we should expect 
 the precise date of the epoch and the fact that the catalogue was to register the victors. 
 The latter would in all probability follow the usual formula, oi8e iviKcov; the former would 
 very likely be the name of the archon. Now we chance to know something about the 
 HvdioviKut drawn up by Aristotle and his nephew Callistratus — a list something like this 
 Ni/cat AiovvaiaKai. It too, like this, was nerayeypafi/j.ei'o'; ek cnr)\i)v \l6lvi)v, as we learn 
 from the deci'ee of the Delphians recently discovered by the French and cleverly restored 
 by Homolle.*^ From the preamble we infer that precisely these three items entered into 
 the heading: epoch date, festival, and characterization, and that the epoch date was 
 fixed by reference to the archon.*^ This model would suit out inscription admirably: 
 
 I II III IT V TI 
 
 'AttIo toO Seti'O?! . . . e(^' ov 'Trpoi\T^ov Kot^iot. i]\aav TSi\v iv aa\Tei Aiovvcrt cov o'ihe evLK\(t>v. 
 The two extra letters at beginning and end would be provided for in the margins." 
 
 '^Taking oKTuj as an ordinal, "the eighth year." air[b VvKiha ('ci']iKT)(c[dT]u>i' T[a riiJOia]. The corresponding 
 
 t,,^ - ., .J- t li u J i 1 ■ lieadiutr would be somethiug like "Airb Fi^AiSa i4>' o^ jraCtTov 
 
 •""One of the sententiae controversae attached to his "=au'i t, 1 ., . - ,, „ . 
 
 ,. , .. ^ . ... Kwuoi lavwi-es ^<^"*' Ttoi' Ilut'toji' oiO« eitKuji'. 
 
 dissertation Deprimordtis. . , , , , . , ,. , 
 
 ^, ^ ,. , , ,. .rr . ,r,.T» ..^ s:j This, the simplest possible form of heading, maybe 
 
 »i Bull, de corr. hell., Vol. XXII (ISaS), p. 2fiO; Bitten- ^^^^^ ^^ '(^^^ ^^^'^ „.6e ^...o,. was not reserved for the 
 
 BEKGER, Syllogc, ed. 2, Vol. II, No. 91.j. second line, and that 272 lines should not be taken instead 
 
 *^2The preamble reads: [e'jrei .... 0v\i'i[Ta^av wivaKa rlit- of 274 as the basis of calculation. 
 
 2S'
 
 30 The Introduction of Comedy into the City Dionysia 
 
 With the new conception of the early history of Attic comedy many matters once 
 obscure receive new light. There is no reason now, for example, why we should not 
 accept in their full significance the conclusions ably deduced by Poppelreuter from the 
 early Attic vase-paintings, for comedy had indeed, as Aristotle says and as the paint- 
 ings prove, "taken on a more or less definite form" by the year 487. The long- 
 chei-ished illusion concerning the establishment of the City Dionysia about the time 
 of the Persian Wars, to which Ribbeck gave currency, is at last definitively dissipated, 
 and also the other misconception as to the Lenaea as the festival in which comedy was 
 nurtured long before its recognition by the state. And, finally, we have learned once 
 more that we may not depart one jot from the words of Aristotle, the fovintain-head of 
 all our knowledge of the beginnings of the drama. Where we cannot follow him, we 
 ourselves are blind. 
 
 EXPLANATION OF PLATE IV 
 
 The details of my reconstimetiou of the Catalogue of Victors, and the restorations in it to 
 which I have been led, are given in the accompanying Plate. The seven published fragments 
 are given in capitals, and, with the exception of frag, d (see p. 20), are placed in the position 
 in which they belong. The so-called frag, c is purposely omitted (see p. 14, note 49). 
 
 A critical study of this Plate will provide the best possible demonstration of the correct- 
 ness of the reconstruction as a whole. It should be clear, tor example, that, given in frag, a 
 the original upper margin and in e the lower, no other hypothesis as to the number of lines in 
 the column and the extent of the heading would work out satisfactorily ; fmther, that frag. / 
 cannot possibly occupy any other position in relation to a. It will also be seen that the lost 
 first columns can be restored in no other manner that will satisfy equally well the conditions 
 imposed by the facts derived from other som-ces. The irregularities in Ccls. XIV and XV are 
 indicated as accurately as possible. 
 
 For convenience I have added in ordinary Greek type victories won at the City Dionysia 
 about which we chance to have information from any source, provided that the year is known, 
 No claim to completeness is made, however. I have veutmed to enter here several events not 
 expressly recorded as City victories, in accordance with my conviction that the chronographers 
 t{K)k info account only the record of victories i" fiffrei (<;/. Am. Jour. Phil., Vol. XX, p. 395), and 
 that the Parian Chronicle records only first victories won at this festival (Am. Jour. Phil., 
 Vol. XXI, p. 41). For the notices from Eusebius see p. 24. For the victory of Alexis in 357/6 
 see Am. Join: Phil., Vol. XXI (1900), p. 60, supported by Munro, Class. Rev., Vol. XV (1901), 
 p. 360. The lyric victories are mainly from Brinck, Jnsc. Graec. ad choreg. pertin., and 
 Bodensteiner, "Ueber choregische Weihinschrifteu," Festschr. d. philol. Se.m., Miinchen, 1891, 
 The events entered after the year 329/8, while correct as to the year, are placed only approxi- 
 mately in the right position in the column. 
 
 Note.— At the last moment I have received from my former pupil, Mr. D. M. Robinson, Fellow 
 of the American Sctiool at Athens, by the courteous permission of tlie discoverer. Dr. Adolph Wilhelm. 
 a squeeze of a new fragment which joins fraj,'- /' on the left. It K'ves Astydamas in Col. XIV, 12, and 
 Theophrastus in 1. 11 — welcome conKrmation of my reconstruction of this part of the record. More 
 welcome still is the promise of Wilhelm's edition of this whole series of inscriptions in the near future 
 
 288
 
 '^ 
 
 -^UTH
 
 . OjOPHrti 
 noiitPiiwajNEAiaii 
 
 KlUINETlOIEIOPHrEIJ 
 
 £<OPH 
 . UiaMKEN 
 
 MElOI'HrE 
 ITnTOOQNTIllNAPOH 
 
 aEiNOiTPiTo>ciC(PHrEi 
 
 NlAIAItlUiailKEN 
 
 EPMIiriT|0<Eaia(>KEN 
 »l IPirOJlflQM 
 
 a]hTTlllKIE(TlEIOPH 
 MEIHEHPikrHttatiaDKEM 
 
 yTr)0KPiTK}wriiN(i)NOi 
 
 , t(ni*AK*)OI IW/I 
 
 ••llfiVitaiprtj. IlltU Ml/l 
 
 tHEflPJilUHl I 
 
 qiOPHHEi 
 
 OEOtlAOIUIAjAINEH 
 
 0|HMHEnHtl(H*II|0] 
 
 NAH*iai£AlJKEH 
 
 rnoiRPiTMt 
 
 fmUHHtOtONTO* tSM 
 
 irnTM0Nnfn»n4aH 
 
 U Iri «_u^.n 4&I/J 
 
 -e^ i>v»-~ *»/» 
 
 >«<^IU.» Rwl, 
 
 
 i.^u^ au..» An A 
 
 "Eri Xw- tlt/l 
 
 We£ltU[IAUKEM 
 
 TPAraiADN 
 
 KA]EOM*IOIAI1(PN: EI 
 Til AlflTVAAMIAIIE^jlAAtK 
 
 vrrroi" PI T H •« eriA/ M 
 ciiTie»iiato«*Eo*i ji)/ 
 
 MEKPOITtlinUAQM 
 
 A'OllkN 
 
 KEKPOItllfANAPOH 
 
 aionciefHt 
 
 ITPO KA E l( A H I U U(< K CN 
 TP«rOIA[flN 
 
 -«^iM>vw ni/i 
 
 «at_a^„Mui>, 
 
 UTiAv.— tn/ii 
 
 <*»r>.iv, ip iM| 
 
 -Mill—, tw/j 
 
 110 . . t]aid**J><E 
 
 . . vnoKPiTMiiiswOAaPoi 
 ,. Enita)ircNO]T< (wt/i) 
 
 AirHlinAIAlDH 
 
 , &rjouE|lviuoPiH 
 lu iinrMONTiai^N^M 
 
 EKKOCJAMIBWH 
 
 . NOitoiAaN) 
 
 , .,| H»[filOPH 
 
 !.. TpjirarADHi '" ; 
 
 ..cnofi" 
 
 EiniAPItTIO]*AHOI'( (UIM I 
 
 aHKIfITAlAD(N 
 .... TO»(A«|«P>'IE"£ lOPH 
 
 (irnoeoNTnAHafiOH 
 
 , . M{II|EI[Pl»iq»«E»OPM 
 [KOUJOIAION
 
 »
 
 University o1 Calilomia 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hllgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from w/hich it v»as borrowed. 
 
 RECEIVED 
 
 APR 2 9 1997 
 
 Mf 
 
 iio ubnMnf 
 
 Fo
 
 l^JOf-», 
 
 CALIF. 
 
 D 000 547 184' 2