This volume covers about one-eighth part of the miscellaneous works of
Plutarch known as the _Moralia_, much the same quantity as is contained
in Professor Tucker’s volume of this series which appeared in 1913. All
the pieces now offered are in the form of dialogue, except the short
treatise _On Superstition_, which seemed to justify its inclusion by a
certain affinity of thought.
The text followed is that of Wyttenbach, issued by the Clarendon Press
in 1795-1800, or rather a text compounded of the Greek text there
printed, his own critical notes and revision of the old Latin version,
his commentary, where one exists, and his posthumous Index of Greek
words used by Plutarch (1830). A few corrections by C. F. Hermann,
Emperius, Madvig, and other scholars, have been introduced, for many of
which I am indebted, in the first place, as I have acknowledged more
particularly, to M. G. N. Bernardakis, the accomplished editor of the
_Moralia_ in the Teubner series (1888-96). A very few fresh corrections,
mostly on obvious points, have been admitted.
The notes at the foot of the page are intended to show all deviations
from Wyttenbach’s text, so constituted, or to give references to the
authors of passages quoted by Plutarch; there may be a few exceptions,
where an illustrative reference or an obvious explanation is given. For
the plays and fragments of the Tragic Poets reference is made to
Dindorf’s _Poetae Scenici_; for Pindar and other lyric poets, to Bergk’s
_Poetae Lyrici Graeci_ (ed. 1900); for the fragments of Heraclitus, to
Bywater’s _Heracliti Ephesii reliquiae_ (Oxford, 1877); those of other
early philosophers will be found in their places in Diels’
_Vorsokratiker_ (1903) or other collections.
To four of the dialogues I have with some reluctance prefixed a short
running analysis. It is always a pity to anticipate what the author puts
clearly before us;[1] but there is here a real practical difficulty,
even for a careful reader, in being sure who is the speaker for the time
being; and as he is often introduced by the pronouns ‘I’ or ‘he’, no
typographical device quite serves. The other dialogues seem to explain
themselves sufficiently. There is no attempt to supply a commentary; but
it is hoped that the full index of proper names (which are very
numerous) will enable a reader to distinguish those as to whom it is
worth his while to inquire further from those who are only of passing
interest. I have given here a good many references to other works of
Plutarch, but more may usefully be sought, for instance in such an index
as is appended to Clough’s edition of the _Lives_.
I may perhaps be allowed to mention that the dialogue _On the Face which
appears on the Orb of the Moon_ was translated by me, and tentatively
published in 1911, with the hope of obtaining some helpful criticism.
Having received several kind notices, and in particular a very full one
in _Hermathena_ by Dr. L. G. Purser, to which I am deeply indebted, I
have now ventured to reproduce this dialogue in somewhat fuller form
than the others, and to retain some of my original notes. I should add
that I have no competence to deal with any scientific matters as such. I
have added two longer notes on special points of interest.
Sir Thomas Browne, writing in 1681-2 to his son Edward who was by way of
translating the _Lives_ of Plutarch, and in fact accomplished two of
them, assumes that he will in the main follow Amyot’s version, which
North had followed absolutely, and suggests that, with some corrections
and the removal of obsolete words, North’s work might still serve
‘especially with gentlemen, who if the expression bee playne looke not
into criticisme’. ‘If you have the Greek Plutarke,’ he writes, ‘have
also the Latin adjoyned unto it, so you may consult either upon
occasion, though you apply yourself to translate out of French, and the
English translation may be sometimes helpful.’ Very likely an acceptable
version of the _Moralia_ might now be produced out of Amyot and Philemon
Holland, a racy and scholarly translator from the Greek, with the
original and the old Latin at hand for reference. But Dr. Edward Browne
was a physician, of little leisure and of delicate health, and it might
hardly be respectful to Plutarch to adopt this procedure now; indeed it
seems to recall that of ‘the dog’ in the proverb, who ‘drinks from the
Nile’, running as he drinks, always with an eye on the crocodiles.
However this may be, some indulgence may fairly be claimed by a
translator of an author, who, however straight-forward himself, abounds
in allusion and latent quotation, and also in difficulties of text not
of his own making, and upon whom no commentary exists. I will mention,
for the sake of clearness, two instances as to which I have troubled
myself and, I fear, others a good deal:
In the dialogue _On the Genius of Socrates_, chap. iii, end (577 A), the
speaker says that his brother Epaminondas is keeping out of the
patriotic enterprise in hand, on the ground that the more hot-headed
members of the party will not stop short of a general massacre and the
murder of many of the leading citizens.
I have followed the Latin version in so rendering the words καὶ
διαφθεῖραι πολλοὺς τῶν διαφερόντων. But I have felt some
doubt—needlessly, I think—whether the Greek participle would bear this
meaning, and also whether the sense so given is strong and suitable.
Wyttenbach felt doubts too, for in his posthumous _Index_, s.v. διαφέρω,
the rendering given is ‘hostes vel amici’, i.e. ‘friends or foes’. The
sense is excellent, but seems hardly to be in the Greek; probably it was
a mere query or jotting. The Teubner editor prints τῶν ἰδίᾳ διαφόρων
ὄντων, i.e. ‘those with whom they had private differences’, giving
Cobet’s name for the last two words. I have not been able to trace the
reference in Cobet, but in _Novae Lectiones_, p. 565, he examines
instances where he thinks that ἰδίᾳ should be supplied or suppressed, as
the case may be, before compounds of διά. The sense seems good, but too
special to be introduced into a text without cogent evidence, since,
once given currency, it is difficult for a future critic to go back upon
it. Meanwhile, in Wyttenbach’s note on ii, 75 A, he collects many
instances where οἱ διάφοροι is used by Plutarch for ‘the enemy’, ‘the
other party’, and τῶν διαφερόντων may have grown out of τῶν διαφόρων
with τῶν repeated. I have thought it the more peaceable course to
preserve the old rendering. I only quote this instance, which is of no
great importance but is of some, as one where a _Variorum_ editor would
have stated at length and evaluated the possible alternatives. That a
translator should do so is perhaps a case of ‘putting the cart before
the horse’.
The other instance is one of real interest, where the problem is perhaps
insoluble upon our present knowledge. In the long dialogue _On the
Cessation of the Oracles_, c. 20 (420 c.), where Cleombrotus has been
pressing a view that there may be daemons with a long, but yet a
limited, term of existence, against the Epicureans, whose own strange
theory of _Eidola_ he derides, Ammonius replies in words which appear
thus in the Latin:
‘Recte, inquit, mihi pronunciare videtur Theophrastus, quid enim obstat
quin sententiam gravissimam et philosophiae convenientissimam recipiamus
dicentis: opinionem de Daemonibus, si reiciatur, multa eorum simul
abolere quae fieri possunt demonstratione autem carent; _sin admittatur
multa secum trahere impossibilia et quae non exstiterint_.’
Amyot and others write ‘Cleombrotus’ for ‘Theophrastus’, a change which,
in view of Plutarch’s carelessness as to personal names, seems not
unlikely, and helps a little. No doubt Theophrastus is quoted, but his
name need not have been mentioned, and may have been brought into the
text in the wrong place. The absurdity of the words which I have given
in italics seems evident, and I have returned to a suggestion of
Xylander,[2] by introducing a negative before πολλά, assuming that
Theophrastus is quoted, not for any opinion about daemons, but for a
canon of what is logically ‘probable’. More subtle solutions are
suggested, which could not be discussed here properly: the question
seems too intricate to be settled by a translator as he goes on his way.
We really want to know what Theophrastus said.
The remarks on the absence of a commentary do not apply to the dialogue
on _Instances of Delay in Divine Punishment_, fully annotated by
Wyttenbach in 1772, nor to the essay _On Superstition_ and the greater
part of _The E at Delphi_, which are dealt with in his continuous
commentary. Nor should I omit to mention the great help afforded by
Kepler’s notes on the _Face in the Moon_ and his scholarly translation.
The large number of poetical quotations in Plutarch often stop a
translator’s hand. Wherever it is possible, I have turned to standard
versions: for Homer to that of Worsley completed by Conington, for
Pindar’s extant Odes to that of Bishop George Moberly, which it has been
an especial pleasure to use; for some lines of the _Cyclops_ of
Euripides I have been fortunate enough to draw upon Shelley. There
remain a good many fragments, some of them of real poetical quality, and
some jingling oracles and the like; for the latter doggerel is the
proper vehicle, for the former the best attainable doggerel must serve.
The range of Plutarch’s poetical quotations seems strangely limited
considering their number. All are Greek, and most from the older poets;
indeed, with the exception of a few from the New Comedy, nearly all
might have been used by Plato. Those from the Tragedians are always to
the point, but he does not appear to care from which of the three he is
borrowing.[3] Homer and Hesiod always bring a welcome flavour of an
older world. Perhaps Pindar is the poet whom he quotes with most hearty
appreciation. Though he has given us many new poetical fragments, he
introduces us to few, if any, new poets. Of Bacchylides there are only
two slight quotations in all Plutarch’s works. A single reference to a
passage of Horace is all that shows a knowledge of the existence of
Roman poetry.
Southey’s comparison between the _Moralia_ and the _Lives_ need not be
pressed; it is the scholar’s preference for the rare, which is his by
privilege, over the popular. But it is well to realize, as it is easy to
do with the help of indices, that the author’s hand is one in both. It
is agreed that the _Lives_ belong to Plutarch’s later years, and were
written at Chaeroneia, under the limitations of his own library; the
several books appeared at intervals, of what length we cannot say.[4]
The few indications of date mentioned in the introductions to the
dialogues now before us suggest the later part of Vespasian’s reign or
the years nearly following it, say from A.D. 80 on. The dialogue on the
_Instances of Delay in Divine Punishment_ from its simpler psychology
and demonology, and perhaps from some crudity in style, suggests a date
earlier than that of some of the others. Dr. Max Adler, in his lucid and
learned dissertation, has established the close connexion between the
_Face in the Moon_ and the _Cessation of the Oracles_, and thinks the
former to have been the earlier, and to have been utilized for the
latter piece.[5]
Montaigne, who knew his Plutarch up and down, has said that he is one of
the authors whom he likes to take after the manner of the Danaids,[6]
which may be described as a method of ‘dip and waste’. You may dip
anywhere, as you may into the pages of _The Doctor_, and be sure of
finding something which you would wish to remember; but you may also
find, on re-reading the same passage, that you have not remembered it at
all, so that the waste is continual. The freshness need not be impaired
by a little more system; indeed it would be enhanced, at least for the
dialogues, for this reason, that they all represent real conversations
between real persons, and it is worth our while to put together our
impressions about each. The fullest materials for such an attempt will
be found in the _Symposiacs_ or dialogues over wine.[7]
The _Symposiacs_ are arranged in nine books, each of which contains ten
conversations of unequal length, but all short, except the last which
has fifteen. On the other hand nine, viz. four of the fourth book and
five of the last, are missing, only the titles being preserved. All the
books are dedicated to Sossius Senecio, who was consul first in A.D. 99;
and as there is no reference to the dignity, we may perhaps infer that
all were written before that year.[8] There is not a single reference in
all the nine books to any public or personal event which might help us
to a date. We hear of the ‘year’ of officials of the Greek games, of
Plutarch’s return from a visit to Alexandria, and of a marriage in his
family, which Sossius Senecio attended, but we cannot follow these
clues.[9] Many of the discussions are about wine and wine-parties; in
others the range of subject is very wide, from ‘What Plato meant by
saying, if he did say, that God geometrizes’ to ‘Whether the table
should be cleared after dinner’, or ‘Why truffles grow after thunder’. A
good many are on medical subjects; in one of them the promising problem,
‘Whether new diseases can arise, and from what causes’, is well argued.
The physicians present show a full knowledge of the Natural History
found in the works of Aristotle and Theophrastus, and the laymen seem to
argue with them on equal terms. There is little or no pleasantry about
professional habits, the fees or the pedantry, except that in one party
a physician is host, and sets on the table an inordinately good dinner,
while certain young men of severe habits put him to a great deal of
trouble to produce some cheese to eat with their dry bread.[10]
In the first dialogue of the First Book the question is raised, ‘Whether
philosophy may be discussed over wine’. The answer appears to be ‘Why
not?’ but probably none of the following dialogues would be called
‘philosophical’ by philosophers. Plutarch loved a vigorous set-to, with
no quarter given, ‘nothing for hate, but all for honour’, as much as did
Montaigne.[11] But he felt deeply about the matters at issue between
Stoics and Epicureans, the two schools which mattered. Believing himself
in a Providence, kindly and particular, associated by him with the
Apollo of Delphi, he disliked equally the Epicurean who flouted a
Providence, and the Stoic who lowered it by his pedantry and
contradictions. He would not have a scene over the wine. Even in the
daylight dialogues now before us, the cynic ‘Planetiades’ is skilfully
bowed out before there is trouble, and ‘Epicurus’ takes himself off
before the reported discussion begins, leaving the company surprised
rather than angry.
The titles of the five lost dialogues of the last book (the others of
that book being all on literary subjects) are curious. Three are
connected with music; and I should have the permission of those who have
kindly helped me here to say that there is about Greek music a
considerable region of dim penumbra. Another raises a question discussed
in the _De Facie_ and answered there out of Aristotle and Posidonius, as
to the eclipses of sun and moon. Another is on the problem ‘Whether the
total number of the stars is more probably even than odd’. The speakers
(for a fragment is preserved) are quite aware that a game of
odd-and-even on such a scale might seem childish. It need not be so, if
the treatment were like that of the _Arenarius_ of Archimedes (all the
better if in his Doric); it would then have contained some long numbers
and some stiff reasoning. Of one thing we may be sure, that if Lamprias,
who is much to the fore in the Ninth Book, took a part, he was ready
with a received view, framed on the spot.
M. Bernardakis[12] (who quotes a letter from M. Wessely) tells us that
in the Paris E there is a blank space here of 2-¼ leaves, but that in
the old Vienna MS., no. 148 (which contains the _Symposiacs_ only),
three whole pages have been cut out, leaving a gap between what remains
of the sixth dialogue and the fragment of the twelfth. Former editions
had printed continuously, and our gratitude is due to M. Bernardakis for
his restitution of the fragment to its proper place. The inference
appears to be that the Vienna MS. is here the parent, though why the
fragment stops short where it does is not clear. Probably the scribe was
daunted by the technical language, and either left a blank space to be
filled up by some one of greater experience, or so spoilt his sheets by
errors and erasures that it was better to cut them out. Some such cause
has been conjectured for the many gaps left in E, occurring where the
subject-matter is difficult.
Some ninety different persons are mentioned by name as taking part in
the _Symposiac Dialogues_, and if we allow for the lost pieces, there
must have been at least a hundred. These may be arranged in groups:
Plutarch and his family—his grandfather, father, brothers, sons,
sons-in-law—the doctors (8), the grammarians (5), and so on. Many of
these reappear in the dialogues now before us, and much may be gained in
distinctness of personality by following out the references given.[13]
Ammonius, Plutarch’s teacher in the Platonic philosophy, comes out as a
masterful person, and a past-master in the art of tactful arrangement of
a debate. Theon (‘Our Comrade’, an appellation given to some half-dozen
others), to be distinguished from ‘Theon the Grammarian’, is a close and
much trusted family friend. Very few Roman names appear, but Sossius
Senecio, Mestrius Florus, and one or two others, must have been
intimates.
None of the conversations in the _Symposiacs_ turn upon points which
were Plutarch’s interest when he wrote the _Lives_; the study of
character in stirring times, of the reaction of circumstances upon
character and of character upon circumstances, of the insoluble problem
which is always solving itself, as to ‘Virtue’ on the one hand and
‘Fortune’ on the other, determining success. The elaborate introduction
to the _Genius of Socrates_, put side by side with that to the _Life of
Pericles_, shows that the author wished to turn from subjects which made
good talk over wine in hours of leisure, to others of a more virile
stamp. The most convenient hypothesis would be that the success of the
_Symposiacs_ suggested to the author to try his hand on more elaborate
dialogue, and that, still later on, he settled to the _Lives_ in the
spirit, not of an historian, but of an artist, filling his canvas with
themes inspired by that great art, Virtue. The lost _Life of
Epaminondas_, his favourite hero, would have told us a great deal about
the artist himself. It was not Plutarch’s habit to sum up in such
brilliant character sketches as stand out in other historians: this has
been done for Epaminondas, on broad and generous lines, by Sir Walter
Raleigh, and before him, not less generously, by Montaigne; and much
material will be found scattered among Plutarch’s other _Lives_.
Such an hypothesis can only be ventured in the broadest outline, for no
one date covers all the _Lives_ or all the _Dialogues_, and some of the
facts are perplexing. In the _Second Pythian Dialogue_ Diogenianus
appears as a very young man, and is introduced as the son of a father
known to the company; and Diogenianus of Pergamum takes part in several
of the _Symposiacs_, but there is no mention of a son old enough to be
brought with him. On the other hand, Boethus in the same dialogue is ‘on
his way to the camp of the Epicureans’; in one of the _Symposiacs_ he is
‘an Epicurean’ simply. In the last book of the _Symposiacs_ Theon’s sons
come in, but we do not hear of him elsewhere as a father of grown-up
sons.
The dialogue _On the Face which appears on the Orb of the Moon_ is
unique as showing the interest taken by men of good general education in
scientific subjects in the first century of our era, and as evidence of
the point to which the natural sciences had then attained. Professional
science may be said to have been almost limited to the province of the
mathematician and his congeners. Natural History was part of the general
outfit of the ‘Philosophers’, and there was no idea of the ‘Conquest of
Nature’ for the relief of man’s estate, unless by the engineer or the
physician. With these limitations, the progress made may strike some
modern readers as surprisingly great, and a good example may be found in
the very precise knowledge of Hipparchus and Ptolemy of the delicate
phenomena of the moon’s movements. We are tempted to ask whether, if
Greeks had not settled these problems, which men of no other ancient
race attacked scientifically, they would have been settled to this day.
To come down to a humbler matter: if the properties of the conic
sections had not been discovered by Apollonius and his predecessors,
would they stand in their place, probably a modest one, on a modern
syllabus, and, meanwhile, could the mechanical arts have progressed
without them? And the conic sections are simple things compared with the
lines, surfaces, and solids determined once for all by Archimedes.
Archimedes was a mathematician by the grace of Nature, and an engineer
by the order of a prince; and the conic sections themselves were
examined, not from any practical interest in the cone, but because they
were found to furnish instances of the curves which might facilitate the
line of inquiry, suggested by Plato with such amazing foresight, as a
half-way house towards a solution of Apollo’s problem.[14] Of course
this can only be stated as a question—not a rhetorical question—and must
be left on the knees of the gods. The general subject is discussed in D.
Ruhnken’s admirable _De Graecia artium ac doctrinarum inventrice_, an
inaugural lecture delivered at Leyden in 1757 (just thirty years after
Newton’s death).
A few lines about the scholar to whose prolonged labours upon Plutarch
we owe so much are only his due. Daniel Wyttenbach was born at Bern,
where his father was a divine of good Swiss family, in 1746. He studied
at Marburg and Göttingen, and passed to Holland, filling professorial
chairs at Amsterdam, and, from 1798, at Leyden. In Holland he was the
colleague and intimate friend of Valckenaer (1715-85) and David Ruhnken
(1723-98), himself by birth a German. By their advice, he turned from a
meditated edition of the Emperor Julian’s works to Plutarch. The two
advisers were not quite at one, and Wyttenbach seemed to crouch between
two burdens—Valckenaer wished him to produce a final edition of some one
work, Ruhnken (who would gladly have faced the task himself if he had
been a younger man) preferred that he should not stop short of all
Plutarch. In 1772 he produced his learned and complete commentary on the
_De sera numinum Vindicta_. About this time the Delegates of the Oxford
Press were anxious to produce a worthy edition of a great classic; and
in 1788 Thomas Burgess, Fellow of Corpus Christi College, afterwards
Bishop of St. Davids and of Salisbury, visited Holland and sought an
introduction to Wyttenbach, with whom an arrangement was concluded in
the autumn of that year. The issue of the volumes of text, with critical
notes and revised Latin version, began in 1795 and went on steadily till
1797; but there was much delay and many searchings of heart over the
last volume, containing the fragments, the dispatch of which was
hindered by the state of war and the occupation of Holland by foreign
troops. It was at last discovered in 1800 in the port of Hamburg, and
appears to have reached Oxford in that year. The first two volumes of
the commentary, to page 242 C, had preceded it in 1798, and were also
published in 1800. The last volume must have proceeded slowly, for it
had only reached 392 D, near the end of the _E at Delphi_, when, on
January 12, 1807, it was interrupted by an explosion due to the careless
use of fire on a barge loaded with gunpowder. The effects of the
conflagration which followed are visible in Leyden to this day. The
disaster was ill-timed for us, for the commentary stops just short of a
passage of great interest (see p. 75). Wyttenbach bore this trouble,
which he has graphically described in several letters, and also those
caused by ill health and narrowed means, with much fortitude. He died in
1820, and the last volume of the commentary was sent to Oxford and
published in 1821, followed by the two volumes of the _Index
Graecitatis_ in 1830. He was a most amiable man, and the letters which
passed between him and Ruhnken have much charm of feeling and
expression. Both wrote in admirable Latin; Wyttenbach’s style is always
fluent and picturesque, but has certain idiosyncrasies, which may delay
an English reader.[15]
Of older scholars who had dealt with Plutarch, by far the most important
was Turnebus[16] (1512-65). Of Xylander (W. Holzmann, 1532-76), who
produced the Latin translation, the basis of his own commentary, and a
Greek text, Wyttenbach writes with much respect and sympathy, as he does
also of Reiske (1716-74), his own contemporary, who, however, was not
quite adequately equipped, in point of material or of critical
judgement.
I should like to express my deep sense of the loss caused to classical
scholarship by the lamented death of Herbert Richards. I have more than
once referred to his critical notes on the _Moralia_, which have been
appearing lately in the _Classical Review_: many of the finer points of
Greek idiom do not concern a translator, but there are several most
valuable suggestions and criticisms which I have felt confidence in
adopting.
A still more personal loss, which intimately concerns this volume, is
that of Ingram Bywater. He had promised a revision of it in its passage
through the press; and his vigilance as a Curator as well as his
jealousy for the severer traditions of scholarship, apart from his
personal kindness, would, I know, have made it a searching one. He did
not specially care for English translation, and his own masterly version
of the _Poetics_ of Aristotle is prefaced by something like a protest.
Nor did he feel much sympathy with what he would call the ‘Realien’. On
the realities of life no one had a saner or better informed judgement.
For natural science and its representatives he cherished a genuine
respect; and perhaps none of the tributes to his memory would have
touched him more than one which was paid in the pages of _Nature_ by an
old colleague and friend of the Exeter College days. But he had a
certain shyness of the intrusion of arguments based, say, upon geometry
or music, into problems of language already sufficiently perplexed. How
generously his noble library and his own stores of wisdom were thrown
open to those who sought them is known to many, as it is to myself.
Yet another great loss to me has been that of the Rev. David Thomas,
Rector of Garsington, in Oxfordshire, a veteran mathematician, my near
neighbour and most kindly and helpful referee during many years.
I cannot send out even so small a volume without a word of gratitude for
affectionate and lifelong help received from John Wordsworth, Bishop of
Salisbury 1885-1911. His own enduring contribution to secular
scholarship was made in 1874, and holds its place in the judgement of
Latin scholars. He was always shouldering new burdens, the last being
the mastering, for a definite purpose of friendship and public duty, of
the language and history of Sweden. But his great stores of books and of
knowledge were always in order, and always made available to others. He
would often preface any opinion of his own by ‘My father used to think
highly’ of such a book or such a person; and it was always well to be
reminded of that true scholar and most courteous gentleman of an older
day.
I owe much, for help and advice, to living friends whom I should like to
thank, but may not. But I must be allowed to acknowledge, in no
conventional spirit, the great care bestowed on these pages by the
Reader for the Delegates of the Press, who has entered into difficulties
of matter as well as of language as few scholars can be expected to have
the patience to do.[17]
The style of Plutarch has not received much favour with scholars. He
uses too many words, and writes in cumbrous sentences, and the words
often seem ill-shapen. But it has merits which are acknowledged by all
those who have dwelt much upon him. His style is a very honest one; at
the end of the longest sentence it is always found that he has said
something worth saying, and that no word can be retrenched as mere
verbiage. And he is so much in earnest that he often reaches an
eloquence, which burns, perhaps, with a dull glow, but which cannot be
quite lost in any translation. Indeed the modern languages have
sometimes an advantage in the fact that they do not possess
counterparts, as long and as elaborate, of the terms used in the
original. Of the first, and the best, of Plutarch’s translators,
Montaigne[18] has written an opinion, to which it should be added that,
in the judgement of very capable persons, Amyot[19] was a scholar of
real knowledge and penetration, though he is sometimes content to
paraphrase:
‘Ie donne avecque raison, ce me semble, la palme à Iacques Amyot sur
touts nos escrivains françois, non seulement pour la naïfveté et pureté
du langage, en quoy il surpasse touts aultres, ny pour la constance d’un
si long travail, ny pour la profondeur de son sçavoir, ayant peu
developper si heureusement un aucteur si espineux et ferré (car on m’en
dira ce qu’on vouldra, ie n’entends rien au grec, mais ie veois un sens
si bien ioinct et entretenu partout en sa traduction, que, ou il a
certainement entendu l’imagination vraye de l’aucteur, ou ayant, par
longue conversation, planté vifvement dans son ame une generale idee de
celle de Plutarque, il ne luy a au moins rien presté qui le desmente ou
qui le desdie); mais, sur tout, ie luy sçais bon gré d’avoir seu trier
et choisir un livre si digne et si à propos pour en faire present à son
pais.’
Since this Preface was written, early in 1916, a study of Plutarch,
which should be of great value to his readers, has appeared in the _De
Plutarcho scriptore et philosopho_, by Professor J. J. Hartman of
Leyden. Professor Hartman is an enthusiast, and his book covers all the
works of Plutarch, the _Moralia_ and the _Lives_, their relations to one
another and to the author’s career. He is of opinion that the _Lives_
were taken in hand after all, or nearly all, the writings included in
the _Moralia_ were completed, and then appeared in rapid succession of
books. He observes that many of the pieces of the _Moralia_ suggest the
date A.D. 107; the _Symposiacs_ he places somewhat later. Two
conclusions, of much importance as coming from so serious a student, may
be stated: the Christian teaching had never come into Plutarch’s hearing
(p. 114, &c.), and there is no suggestion of any tendency to Oriental or
Neoplatonic thought; Plutarch was the best living authority on Plato and
his works, and aimed at being the Plato of his own day (pp. 389, 680,
&c.).
A large list of critical comments is appended to the general notice of
each work. Professor Hartman takes as his basis the Teubner edition, and
pays a well-merited tribute to the care and skill of M. Bernardakis (p.
237, &c.). His usual complaint is that the editor has lacked the
boldness to incorporate in the text ingenious emendations which he
mentions in notes. I had myself felt somewhat differently as to all
unsupported emendations, though I am glad to repeat my sense of the
great usefulness of the edition, my debt to which goes much beyond what
I have expressly acknowledged.
Footnote 1:
‘Tout abregé sur un bon livre est un sot abregé.’—_Montaigne_, iii. 8.
Footnote 2:
Xylander reads οὐδέν, but οὐ before πολλά seems simpler, and makes
better logic.
Footnote 3:
See, e. g., p. 266.
Footnote 4:
On this point, and on Plutarch’s life generally, see the buoyant and
chivalrous pages of the late Mr. George Wyndham’s introduction to
North’s _Lives_ in the _Tudor Translations_.
Footnote 5:
See pp. 54, 253. I have searched such numbers of the _Dissertations_
as appear to have reached this country from Vienna since 1910, without
coming upon the continuation of Dr. Adler’s argument. It will be of
great interest when it comes to hand, but could not adequately be
discussed here.
Footnote 6:
‘Où je puyse comme les Danaïdes, remplissant et versant sans
cesse.’—i. 25.
Footnote 7:
The _Symposiacs_ were specially favourite reading of Archbishop
Trench, whose bright little volume of _Lectures_ is perhaps the best
introduction for English readers to the _Moralia_.
Footnote 8:
The same argument might perhaps be applied to the _Lives_, even as far
as that of Dion, but there is no elaborate dedication there.
Footnote 9:
Dr. Mahaffy has acutely pointed out that the tract _De Tranquillitate
animi_ must have been written before the accession of Titus in A. D.
79, because it contains a remark (467 E) that no Roman Emperor had yet
been succeeded by his son. It is this sort of evidence of a date which
we seek, but do not find, in the _Symposiacs_.
Footnote 10:
Some of Plutarch’s characters exemplify the ‘sternness of the
judgements of youth’, as the younger Diogenianus.—See p. 94.
Footnote 11:
See Vol. I, p. 25.
Footnote 12:
See his Preface in Vol. I, p. xlii.
Footnote 13:
M. Chenevière’s study mentioned on p. 53 is very helpful but not
easily accessible.
Footnote 14:
See p. 14; see also _Apollonius of Perga_, by Sir Thomas Heath,
F.R.S., Introd., p. xxi.
Footnote 15:
‘Forte’ is always used where we expect ‘fortasse’, and ‘nisi’ often
for ‘si non’.
Footnote 16:
Adrien Turnĕbus (i. q. Toranebus?) was a native of Les Andelys (Eure),
near Rouen, and the name is said to be of local origin. Montaigne, who
knew him personally, always writes Turnebus; the later form Turnèbe
seems to be due to false analogy.
Footnote 17:
I may now name Mr. Walter Sumner Gibson, M.A. of Balliol College,
formerly an assistant-master at Charterhouse, who died on the 20th
January, 1918, having in recent years acted as a Reader to the
Clarendon Press.
Footnote 18:
ii. 4.
Footnote 19:
1514-93.