“Whenever someone is haughty because he understands and can explain the books of Chrysippus, say to him: “If Chrysippus hadn’t written so obscurely, you’d have nothing to be haughty about.”
But what do I desire? To understand nature and follow it. Therefore, I seek one who explains it. And because I have heard that Chrysippus does this, I go to him. But I do not understand what he has written. Therefore, I seek out someone who explains him. And within these steps there is nothing worthy of pride. Whenever I find the right interpreter, it is still up to me to practice his precepts. This alone is worthy of pride.
But if I am amazed at this act of explanation, have I done anything but transform into a grammarian instead of a philosopher? (Except, I interpret Chryippos instead of Homer.) Hence, whenever anyone says to me “Read me Chrysippus,” I turn red when I am incapable of demonstrating actions equal to and harmonious with his words
The following text of unknown authorship was recovered along with new fragments of Caesar’s lost Bellum Incivileand several pamphlets on ancient Roman fashion and etiquette.
As dawn rose, a young man of remarkable piety came down from heaven onto the gloomy earth for the sake of saving the republic. Since his name could not be pronounced by any mortal, he was called Mayor Pete. It was such a great miracle that some believed that he was not just similar to a god, but that he was an actual god; others believed that the 44th president had adopted him as his white son.
Many wonders and signs declared his divinity. His spouse, whose name was Mayor Pete’s Husband, was a teacher of the highest character whom students loved and respected as an example to emulate;* he was a faithful friend to two dogs, Buddy and Truman; he knew 17 languages which, they said, he was able to speak perfectly inside of a year whenever he wanted to help refugees, read a book in another language, or make a friend from another country; he also knew by heart the names of all the people who lived in the republic; and, he glows with a golden light as he helps the less fortunate. For these reasons everyone began to worship and venerate him as they begged the gods, “Do not prevent this man from rescuing our world in chaos.”
Aurora surgente egregius pietate iuvenis de caelo ad tenebrosam terram rei publicae servandae causa venit. Cum eius nomen a nullis mortalibus enuntiari possit, Praefectus Petrus appellabatur. Tantum miraculum erat ut alii Praefectum Petrum non modo similem deo sed deum ipsum, alii quadragesimum quartum consulem filium candidum adoptavisse crederent.
Multa prodigia et signa divinitatem declaraverunt. Eius coniunx, Maritus Praefecti Petri nomine, erat magister* summae virtutis quem exemplo ad imitandum suppeditato discipuli amabant verebanturque; fidus sodalis duorum canum Amici et Veritatis erat; dicebant septendecim linguas scire quas intra annum optime loqui posset cum aut auxilio profugis esse aut externi scriptoris libellum legere aut ad amicitiam peregrinorum se conferre vellet; nomina etiam omnium rei publicae civium memoria tenebat; miseris subveniens aurea in luce refulsit. Quibus de causis eum colere et venerari coeperunt omnes orantes deos, “hunc saltem everso iuvenem succurrere saeclo ne prohibete.”
*It is thought that Quintilian wrote his treatise on education after reading notes taken during a classroom observation of Mayor Pete’s Husband.
“Thomas Arnold was born in 1795, at Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, where his family had been settled for two generations. In 1807 he was sent to the public school at Winchester, where he remained until, in his sixteenth year, he was transferred to Corpus Christi College, Oxford. He was during his boyhood, as indeed ever afterward, of a shy and retiring disposition; but his manner as a child, and till his entrance at Oxford, was marked by a stiffness and formality, the very reverse of the joyousness and simplicity of his later years. He never lost the recollection of the impression produced upon him by the excitement of naval and military affairs, of which he saw and heard much by living at the Isle of Wight in the time of war; and the sports in which he seemed to take most pleasure, with the playmates of his childhood, were sailing rival fleets in his father’s garden, or acting the battles of Homeric heroes, and reciting their several speeches from Pope’s translation of the Iliad.
[…]
During his residence at Oxford he was noted for his originality and deep earnestness. He carried off several prizes, and his acquisitions were very considerable. He was particularly fond of Aristotle and Thucydides, and was deeply imbued with the language and ideas of the former. Next to these he loved Herodotus. Arnold was not, however, as eminent among his fellows at the University as he afterward became among the first scholars and writers and thinkers of England. His style of composition, during the period of his University residence (which embraced about eight years), was somewhat stiff and labored. He had not entirely overcome the indolent habits of his boyhood, or the morbid restlessness, the occasional weariness of duty, the disposition to indulge in vain scheming without definite purpose, and the intellectual doubts, which beset all young men upon their entrance into life.”
Spring is here, and with it comes the dreaded (but necessary) spring cleaning. It’s often difficult to rid the house of an item we no longer need or want, but remember, if it doesn’t “inspire joy,” consider recycling or donating it for someone else’s use. Need ideas for types of items to purge? Here’s some Roman stuff to get you started.
Personal accessories and fashion items. These have a tendency to accumulate and create clutter in drawers, chests, and cabinets. Sometimes they can wreak havoc on a foot when walking through the house at night.
Gold Bracelet. AE 1994, 1098.
(Image Wikimedia)
UTERE FELIX DOMINA IULIANE
“Use (this) happily, Lady Juliana.”
(‘Utere Felix’ was a very popular phrase on jewelry, to the extent that abbreviations such as ‘UT FE’ were common)
Lapis Stone. AE 2009, 991.
FELICITAS PUBLICA
“Public Happiness”
(A common phrase on coinage, but less so on jewelry)
Gold Ring. CIL 3.12677
FIDEM D(OMINO) N(OSTRO) CONSTANTI AUGUSTO N(OVO) A(NNO)
“Trust in our Lord Constans Augustus, this new year.”
Gold Button. AE 2003, 1456.
(Image Pegasus Online, 2004)
AMORE AMANTI S[I A]MAS PIGNVS
“With love, to (my) love. If you love (me), (this is) a pledge.”
Silvered Fibula. CIL 13.10027
(Image Pegasus Online, 2004)
QVOD / VIS EG/O VOLO
“What you want, I want.”
Dining and drinking wares. We’ve all heard “you have too many mugs” or “how do you have so much Tupperware?” Or, in my case, “what do the two of you need with that much silverware?”
Glass. CIL 15.7010.
(POL)YCARPE BIBE (VIVE) FELIX
“Polycarpus, live happily”
Glass Dish. CIL 15.7029.
HILARE
SEMPER
GAVDEAS
“May you always be joyfully happy.”
Spoon. AE 1982, 670.
VIR BONE VIVAS
“Live (well), my good man.”
Cup. AE 1981, 572b.
BIBE / ET PRO/PINA
“Take a drink and pass (me) on.”
(Image EDH)
Election Plate. AE 1979, 0064.
M(ARCUS) CATO QUEI PETIT TRIBUN(AT)U(M) PLEBEI
“Marcus Cato, who is running for Tribune of the Plebs.”
(Go ahead, throw out those Gore vs. Bush 2000 bumper stickers.)
Furniture. That table that blocks half of the hallway and is only used for car keys? Time to donate it.
Inscription on a Table. AE 1941, 0053.
M(ARCUS) CATO QUEI PETIT TRIBUN(AT)U(M) PLEBEI
“Marcus Cato, who is running for Tribune of the Plebs.”
(Go ahead, throw out those Gore vs. Bush 2000 bumper stickers.)
Furniture. That table that blocks half of the hallway and is only used for car keys? Time to donate it.
Inscription on a Table. AE 1941, 0053.
Quisquis amat d[ictis absentum rodere vitam,
hanc mensam in[dignam noverit esse sibi.
“Whoever loves to slander the lives of people absent with gossip, let them know this table isn’t worthy of them.”
Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols (trans. Anthony Ludovici)
“What I Owe to the Ancients”:
“In conclusion I will just say a word concerning that world to which I have sought new means of access, to which I may perhaps have found a new passage—the ancient world. My taste, which is perhaps the reverse of tolerant, is very far from saying yea through and through even to this world: on the whole it is not over eager to say Yea, it would prefer to say Nay, and better still nothing whatever…. This is true of whole cultures; it is true of books,—it is also true of places and of landscapes. Truth to tell, the number of ancient books that count for something in my life is but small; and the most famous are not of that number. My sense of style, for the epigram as style, was awakened almost spontaneously upon my acquaintance with Sallust I have not forgotten the astonishment of my respected teacher Corssen, when he was forced to give his worst Latin pupil the highest marks,—at one stroke I had learned all there was to learn. Condensed, severe, with as much substance as possible in the background, and with cold but roguish hostility towards all ‘beautiful words’ and ‘beautiful feelings’—in these things I found my own particular bent. In my writings up to my ‘Zarathustra,’ there will be found a very earnest ambition to attain to the Roman style, to the “ære perennius” in style.—The same thing happened on my first acquaintance with Horace. Up to the present no poet has given me the same artistic raptures as those which from the first I received from an Horatian ode. In certain languages it would be absurd even to aspire to what is accomplished by this poet. This mosaic of words, in which every unit spreads its power to the left and to the right over the whole, by its sound, by its place in the sentence, and by its meaning, this minimum in the compass and number of the signs, and the maximum of energy in the signs which is thereby achieved—all this is Roman, and, if you will believe me, noble par excellence. By the side of this all the rest of poetry becomes something popular,—nothing more than senseless sentimental twaddle.”
William Gladstone, Studies on Homer and the Homeric Age:
“It may be enough for Homer’s fame, that the consent of mankind has irrevocably assigned to him a supremacy among poets, without real competitors or partners, except Dante and Shakspeare; and that, perhaps, if we take into view his date, the unpreparedness of the world for works so extraordinary as his, the comparative paucity of the traditional resources and training he could have inherited, he then becomes the most extraordinary, as he is also the most ancient, phenomenon in the whole history of purely human culture. In particular points he appears to me, if it be not presumptuous to say so much, to remain to this day unquestionably without an equal in the management of the poetic art. If Shakspeare be supreme in the intuitive knowledge of human nature and in the rapid and fertile vigour of his imagination, if Dante have the largest grasp of the ‘height and depth’ of all things created, if he stand first in the power of exhibiting and producing ecstasy, and in the compressed and concentrated energy of thought and feeling, Homer, too, has his own peculiar prerogatives. Among them might perhaps be placed the faculty of high oratory; the art of turning to account epithets and distinctive phrases; the production of indirect or negative effects; and the power of creating and sustaining dramatic interest without the large use of wicked agents, in whom later poets have found their most indispensable auxiliaries. But all this is not enough for us who read him. If the works of Homer are, to letters and to human learning, what the early books of Scripture are to the entire Bible and to the spiritual life of man; if in them lie the beginnings of the intellectual life of the world, then we must still recollect that that life, to be rightly understood, should be studied in its beginnings. There we may see in simple forms what afterwards grew complex, and in clear light what afterwards became obscure; and there we obtain starting-points, from which to measure progress and decay along all the lines upon which our nature moves.”
William Wordsworth, The World Is Too Much With Us:
“THE WORLD is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I ’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn,
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.”
“At last, love is here—and the story I might have told to hide it
Would have caused me more shame than laying it bare.
Cytherea brought him right to me once I overwhelmed her
with my songs. Then she put him right in my lap.
She promised it and she did it. Let anyone tell the tale of my laughter
if they happen to have none of their own
I would never want to trust notes to anyone to sealed tablets,
Just in case someone else reads them before my love.
Ah, it is a pleasure to ‘sin’ and exhausting to hide my face
For rumor’s sake. Let me be known as a worthy woman with her worthy man.”
Tandem venit amor, qualem texisse pudori
quam nudasse alicui sit mihi fama magis.
exorata meis illum Cytherea Camenis
attulit in nostrum deposuitque sinum.
exsolvit promissa Venus: mea gaudia narret,
dicetur si quis non habuisse sua.
non ego signatis quicquam mandare tabellis,
ne legat id nemo quam meus ante, velim,
sed peccasse iuvat, vultus componere famae
taedet: cum digno digna fuisse ferar.
Martial, 10.35
“All girls who desire to please one man
Should read Sulpicia.
All husbands who desire to please one wife
Should read Sulpicia.
She doesn’t write the rage of the Colchian woman
Or repeat the dinners of dire Thyestes.
She doesn’t believe there ever was a Scylla, or Byblis
But she teaches chaste and honest love,
And games, both sweet and a little naughty.
Anyone who judges her poems well
Will say that there never was a cleverer girl,
There never was a girl more reverent!
I think that the jokes of Egeria
In Numa’s dark cave were something like this.
You would have been more humble and learned
With Sulpicia as a teacher or a peer, Sappho:
But if he had seen her by your side,
Harsh Phaon would have loved Sulpicia.
Uselessly: for she would not be wife of the Thunderer
Nor girlfriend to Bacchus or Apollo
Should she live after her Calenus was taken away.”
Omnes Sulpiciam legant puellae,
Uni quae cupiunt viro placere;
Omnes Sulpiciam legant mariti,
Uni qui cupiunt placere nuptae.
Non haec Colchidos adserit furorem 5
Diri prandia nec refert Thyestae;
Scyllam, Byblida nec fuisse credit:
Sed castos docet et probos amores,
Lusus, delicias facetiasque.
Cuius carmina qui bene aestimarit, 10
Nullam dixerit esse nequiorem,
Nullam dixerit esse sanctiorem.
Tales Egeriae iocos fuisse
Udo crediderim Numae sub antro.
Hac condiscipula vel hac magistra 15
Esses doctior et pudica, Sappho:
Sed tecum pariter simulque visam
Durus Sulpiciam Phaon amaret.
Frustra: namque ea nec Tonantis uxor
Nec Bacchi nec Apollinis puella 20
Erepto sibi viveret Caleno.
“Fix that in your heads also, therefore, that Greek faces are not particularly beautiful. Of that much nonsense against which you are to keep your ears shut, that which is talked to you of the Greek ideal of beauty is the absolutest. There is not a single instance of a very beautiful head left by the highest school of Greek art. On coins, there is even no approximately beautiful one. The Juno of Argos is a virago; the Athena of Athens grotesque, the Athena of Corinth is insipid; and of Thurium, sensual. The Siren Ligeia, and fountain of Arethusa, on the coins of Terina and Syracuse, are prettier, but totally without expression, and chiefly set off by their well-curled hair. You might have expected something subtle in Mercuries; but the Mercury of Ænus is a very stupid-looking fellow, in a cap like a bowl, with a knob on the top of it. The Bacchus of Thasos is a drayman with his hair pomatum’d. The Jupiter of Syracuse is, however, calm and refined; and the Apollo of Clazomenæ would have been impressive, if he had not come down to us, much flattened by friction. But on the whole, the merit of Greek coins does not primarily depend on beauty of features, nor even, in the period of highest art, that of the statues.”
