This article discusses three rather neglected issues concerning Varro’s Hebdomades : 1. The basis of Varro’s fascination with the number seven, leading him to his eventual concept of such an exceptional work; 2. An attempt to find out as much as possible about the nature of the work, described by Pliny as the first illustrated book in Rome, and 3. A discussion of its reception and impact in Rome.

Varro's Hebdomades vel de imaginibus contained 700 pictures of illustres accompanied by short descriptions in verse and prose, all arranged by the number seven: Gellius provides a detailed excerpt from the first book on the significance of this number. Speculation on the arrangement and content of the fifteen books abounds. On the other hand explicit attestation of personages included in Varro's list is relatively scarce: the discussions in the passage of Gellius on the ages of Homer and Hesiod, and (...) of the former's birthplace in the epigram attached to his portrait certify the rather obvious choice of the two oldest Greek poets, presumably part of a canon of seven. (shrink)

This article argues that a group of fourteen female statues seen in the Theatre of Pompey in Rome by Tatian belonged to Greek female poets. This group, along with the statues representing the fourteen nationes vanquished by Pompey, and certain groups of statues in the Forum of Augustus should all be ascribed to the influence of the Hebdomades of Pompey's familiaris Varro.

Gell. NA 3.10.13 citing Varro's Hebdomades uel de imaginibus, reports: Venas etiam in hominibus, uel potius arterias, medicos musicos dicere ait numero moueri septenario, quod ipsi appellant τν δι τεσσρων συμφωναν, quae fit in collatione quaternarii et ternarii numeri. He also states that doctors who make use of music theory declare that the veins, or rather arteries, in human beings move in accordance with the number seven; they call this motion ‘the consonance of the fourth’, which is produced by (...) the proportional relation of the numbers four and three. (shrink)

In this article, I challenge Shanzer’s treatment of the relationship between Varro’s Disciplinarum libri and Augustine’s early disciplinary project, in which she argued that «squeamishness» with the personifications that supposedly characterized Varro’s disc. caused Augustine to abandon the disciplines. I consequently outline a more plausible view of the development of Augustine’s thought. He did not abandon the disciplines or become «hostile» to them in his later career, as Shanzer and others have concluded. Instead, he reoriented them towards the (...) study of Scripture, while maintaining the importance of a truly liberal education in pursuit of the knowledge of God. (shrink)

This article discusses the text of seven passages in the etymological books 5–7 of Varro's De lingua Latina, and proposes new conjectures for all of them. The discussions are of direct relevance to the interpretation of fragments and testimonies of lost Latin authors quoted by Varro: the scenic poets Naevius, Pacuvius, Caecilius Statius, Juventius and Atilius, and the grammarian Aurelius Opillus. The starting point for the discussions is the new Oxford edition of Varro's De lingua Latina by Wolfgang de Melo.

L’ouvrage de Beate Collet et Emmanuelle Santelli vient combler un manque qui pendant de longues années a freiné l’avancement des connaissances sur les populations françaises d’ascendance étrangère. Mieux encore, il fait le lien avec l’ensemble du corps social, montrant à la fois sur quels points les réalités de ces populations rejoignent celles de la société globale, et dans quels domaines elles se différencient. Cet ouvrage ambitieux nous livre une sociologie de la famille qui s’attaque à ce..

In this contribution I wish to tackle two corruptions in Book 7 of Varro's De lingua Latina that have hitherto gone unnoticed or been corrected inadequately.

This paper discusses an earlier emendation to fr. 54 GRF Funaioli from Varro's De bibliothecis and argues that, while the text et citro refers to cedar oil, it should not be emended to et cedro. A comparison with a passage from Pliny the Elder (HN 13.86) is used to support the view presented in the article.

One of the strategies to overcome the capital loss of Varro’s antiquarian works is to try to recollect themes, content, and even specific expressions from his own preserved works (the Rerum Rusticarum libri and, in parts, the De lingua Latina ). This material, as was common in his writing practice, was reused and readapted from other contexts. Pursuing this strategy, the paper reconsiders two passages of the dialogue on Res Rusticae by reading them in light of Plato’s Nomoi. The (...) study will argue that the antiquarian quoted from two passages of the Platonic dialogue. Some evidence will shed light on Varro’s famous theory about the tria discrimina temporum, originally contained in De gente populi Romani and partly preserved in a later source, Censorinus’ De die natali. (shrink)

Varro wrote three books De bibliothecis, according to a list by Jerome. The work may have had something to do with his commission to build a massive public library for Julius Caesar, though Caesar was assassinated before the library could be built. It may also have some connection to Rome's first public library, which Asinius Pollio added to the Atrium of Liberty in the 30s b.c. Pollio, after all, gave a portrait to Varro alone among living authors. The known fragments (...) are few. (shrink)

Varro's De lingua Latina is a treasure trove of information. Of the originally twenty-five books, six have come down to us more or less complete. Among these, Books 5–7 give us many hundreds of etymologies, and Books 8–10 discuss the question whether Latin morphology is regular or not. What Varro rarely comments on is sociolinguistic variation. The sociolinguistic comments in Varro's work can almost be counted on one hand. For instance, in 5.162 Varro remarks that cenaculum, from cena ‘dinner’, means (...) ‘attic’ in Roman Latin, but that the original meaning was, as one might expect, ‘dining-room’, a meaning preserved in the non-Roman dialects of Latium, Falerii and Corduba in Spain; the meaning also lives on in religious uses in Lanuvium. In 7.96, Varro tells us that some words are pronounced with -ae- by some, but with -ē- by others. We know that non-Roman varieties of Latin monophthongized -ae- earlier than the Roman dialect did. Varro mentions pairs like scaena / scēna ‘stage’, a loan from Greek σκηνή, which shows that -ae- is hypercorrect here. Interestingly, only in one such pair is the variant with -ē- ascribed to country people, in the name Maesius / Mēsius, and this is indeed the only pair where the diphthong -ae- is original rather than the result of hypercorrection. (shrink)

The Trikaranos, a work of Varro's preserved only by title in Appian's Bellum Civile, has usually been considered a satirical attack on the alliance of Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus in 59 b.c.e. as a "three-headed monster." However, a re-examination of the evidence reveals that the Trikaranos was instead a pseudonymous satire directed not at the political alliance of the three men, but at Caesar alone, who was attacked as the single autocrat who spoke for all three members of the so-called (...) "first triumvirate.". (shrink)

‘sed ad hunc bolum ut pervenias, opus erit tibi aut epulum aut triumphus alicuius, ut tune fuit Scipionis Metelli, aut collegiorum cenae, quae nunc innumerabiles excandefaciunt annonam macelli.’ Varro, RR 3. 2. 16.

Horace’s satires include a variety of foods but make little reference to cheese and milk. This absence is understandable: they are products—and symbols—of the pastoral world. Vergil’s Georgics and Eclogues claim cheese for the country, yet make it a link via commerce to the city. Varro’s De re rustica places cheese on the margins: its proper place now is away from Rome; and the right time for it at Rome was before the city’s foundation. Taken together these three texts (...) show that the presence or absence of cheese at Rome is a matter of place and time, genre and ideology. (shrink)

The purpose of this article is to consider the problem of the ascribed to Varro and to attempt to show that, despite the doubts expressed by modern scholars, the balance of the evidence does support the traditional interpretation. Appian, dealing with the ‘Triumvirate’ of 59 B.C., tells us: The usual interpretation of this passage has been that Varro wrote a political pamphlet, possibly in the form of a Menippean satire,2 against the First Triumvirate, to which he gave the title.There are (...) obvious difficulties in this interpretation, which appears to conflict with what we know of Varro's relations with Pompey in the period before the formation of the Triumvirate and his actions afterwards. (shrink)

Discussing different types of metaphor, Isidore of Seville quotes an anonymous fragment that uses agricultural vocabulary to describe the sailing of a ship in order to illustratemetaphorae ab inanimali ad inanimale‘metaphors taken from inanimate objects and applied to inanimate objects’ (Etym.1.37.3 = inc. fr. 63 Blänsdorf):1.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hebdomads: Boethius Meets the Neopythagoreans1Sarah Pessin1the thesis of this article is three-fold. First, I suggest, uncontroversially, that Boethius was in many ways influenced by Neopythagorean ideas. Second, I recommend that in light of our appreciation of his Neopythagorean inclinations in at least some of his writings, we understand his esoteric reference to the “hebdomads”—at the outset of his treatise often called by that name—as a reference to something Neopythagorean. (...) This I suggest in light of the fact that, as I will discuss, the “hebdomad” plays an important role within the Neopythagorean literature of Nicomachus of Gerasa, an author with whose writings Boethius was intimately familiar. Lastly, I suggest—following Dillon’s analysis of the Triad and the Hebdomad within Nicomachus’ works—an interpretation of the ‘hebdomad’ within the Neopythagorean corpus which, if correct, would make appropriate Boethius’ reference to it at the outset of a treatise on the nature of God and creation.2In his introductory remarks to the Quomodo Substantiae,2 a short but difficult theological treatise on the nature of goodness and its relation to being (esse), Boethius gives his reader fair warning:... tu ne sis obscuritatibus brevitatis adversus, quae cum sint arcani fida custodia turn id habent commodi, quod cum his solis qui digni sunt conloquuntur. [End Page 29]... do not you take objection to obscurities consequent on brevity, which are the sure treasure-house of secret doctrine and have the advantage that they speak only with those who are worthy.3While itself somewhat obscure, this statement seems to suggest that a clear explication of the treatise would involve the clarification of certain notions which Boethius chooses not to clarify, and hence, the uninitiated reader will be met with obscurity.4 Consider this suggested reading especially in light of what immediately follows: After listing nine brief axioms, we are told that: “These preliminaries are enough then for our purpose. The intelligent interpreter of the discussion will supply the arguments appropriate to each point.”5 What is most important to note in support of the claim that Boethius is intentionally obscuring the content of the work which follows, is that he never refers to these obscure axioms again—not in way of explaining them, or even in way of helping the reader use them to elucidate the subject matter which follows, (which is apparently what they are capable of doing). Furthermore, this lack of explanation and expansion on his part appears—as evidenced in the above quote—to be in line with his intended purposes in this treatise. It seems that the “intelligent interpreter” to whom he refers is the reader who is knowledge-able of certain ideas which Boethius prefers not to elaborate upon in this treatise, and who should at least in theory therefore be able to arrive at a full understanding of the arguments which follow.6The veil of obscurity which we seem to meet in the terse nature of the content of the treatise itself, then, also seems apparent in Boethius’ esoteric reference to the “hebdomads” at the outset of the treatise:You ask me to state and explain somewhat more clearly that obscure question in my Hebdomads concerning the manner in which substances are good in virtue of existence without being substantial goods. You urge that this demonstration is necessary because the method of this kind of treatise is not clear to all... But I think over my Hebdomads with myself, and I keep my speculations in my own memory rather than share them with any of those pert and frivolous persons who will not tolerate an argument unless it [End Page 30] is made amusing.7 Wherefore do not you take objection to obscurities stemming from brevity... 8Boethius’ reference to his “hebdomads” here is perplexing.Looking to the Greek word for ‘seven,’ (‘hepta’), it has been suggested that these ‘hebdomads,’ (lit., ‘groups of seven,’ or simply ‘sevens’), might simply refer to a weekly meeting group (i.e., a ‘seminar’), which Boethius attended, and which provided him the impetus to compose the treatise in question. Others suggest that this ‘group of sevens’ refers to the list of axioms which follows (which some... (shrink)

Catullus 64 revises traditional mythological chronology by making the Argo the first ship; this “correction” strongly influenced subsequent Latin poetry. Varro of Atax, a young contemporary of Catullus, alludes to this temporal “correction” and to poem 64 more broadly in his Latin translation of Apollonius’ Argonautica, problematizing his principal source text. This allusive technique reveals a complex recreative relationship between translation and source text vis-à-vis other poems that allude to and “correct” this source. Ovid nods at Varro’s “correction” significantly (...) and repeatedly. Varro played an important role as an allusive bridge between Neoteric and Augustan poetry and poetics. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Free as a Bird: Varro De Re Rustica 3C. M. C. GreenMarcus terentius varro is a most difficult writer to assess. The very high regard in which he was held by the greatest writers of his—or any—time is supported by a fragmentary structure made up of a mass of tantalizing titles, excerpts, and allusions gathered from later authors, the reflection of his Res Divinae in Augustine, the extant books (...) of his De Lingua Latina, and De Re Rustica. The last of these, De Re Rustica, is the only complete work of Varro’s we possess, and therefore on it must be tested all our theories and suppositions about Varro as a writer. Unhappily, the artistic weaknesses of this work seem only too apparent. 1 The subject—managing a villa economy—is not one to readily attract most readers in and of itself, and Varro’s undeniable learnedness is exhibited to us in a narrative full of “hasty remarks, conversational language, rhetorical nostalgia, and, crowning all, the anacoluthons,” all of which muddle his discussion, and produce a prose “style” that defies categorization, if not description. 2It is truly unsettling, then, that the opening of each of the books of [End Page 427] De Re Rustica presents to us a Varro whose urbane wit and literary skill are much more in accord with our expectations from the immensely learned friend of all the great writers of the late Republic, and particularly from the author of Menippean Satires. Such is the disparity between the charm of the dialogues’ setting and the dry exposition of the factual material, and so indifferently are they linked, that one could suppress the first, as Boissier suggests, 3 without noticeably affecting the second. The result, a learned and somewhat tedious discussion of agriculture, would be understandable: practicality and Cato’s crabbed example would naturally excuse Varro from the higher artistic requirements. Yet the dramatic dialogue suggests that the author intended more than a dry exposition of material—though it is a suggestion which is left unfulfilled and, at first sight, seems to do little more than demonstrate its irrelevance.My aim in this essay is to suggest that we have been taking Varro at once too seriously, and, paradoxically, not seriously enough. That is, we have been reading De Re Rustica so intently as a (lady-)farmer’s vade mecum—Varro began the project, he says, at the request of his young wife who wanted to know how to manage her new estate (1.1.1–4)—that we have not given its author’s wit and literary subtlety the attention they deserve. The ruthless either/or of academic categorization has misled readers; either Varro is joking, they tend to assume, or he is serious. That he might be both at the same time is an idea that needs more help than we have so far been given. It is my contention that his wit is more carefully wrought, and is reaching toward far more serious matters than the details of how to farm.If we begin, first, by allowing the possibility that Varro had a purpose beyond packaging some important agricultural information in a decent volume; and if we then proceed by taking the paradoxes of De Re Rustica as being intentional, and therefore having meaning, we may at least open the door to new observations. The genre is defined (or so it seems) immediately by the opening of book 1, the dedication to Fundania; it is a handbook, since that is what Varro’s bride asked for. Yet the dialogue form signals some kind of philosophical genre, taken more or less seriously. We look, therefore, to Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, in which Ischomachus and Socrates discuss farming and, in particular, Ischomachus’ [End Page 428] fifteen-year-old wife’s management of her part of the oikos. 4 Then there is the dramatic framing of the three books, each with a very distinctive and rather unphilosophical setting, and dates that are mutually discordant. 5 This, combined with the enchanting name-play lavished on most of the characters in the dialogue, 6 suggests a comedic influence. The whole mixed bag taken together—handbook, philosophical... (shrink)

Ancient and modern scholars are so unanimous in their condemnation of Varro as a writer, that a study of his ‘style’ may seem to be valueless. Cicero paid ready tribute to his great contemporary's learning, but studiously forbore to say anything about his writing, a fact which was observed by Augustine, who admitted Varro's inferiority in this respect. Quintilian, in a guarded way, makes the same criticism; for him Varro is ‘plus scientiae collaturus quam eloquentiae’. In recent times Norden has (...) castigated the De, Lingua Latina as exhibiting the worst Latin style of any prose work, and his opinion of the Res Rusticae is not much higher. (shrink)

‘In historical composition’, said Samuel Johnson, ‘all the greatest powers of the human mind are quiescent’. Perhaps so, but even if the historian must appear dull and plodding next to his more profound and shimmering brethren, the philologists and – of course – the literary critics, still he must be granted at least one virtue in plenty and that virtue is scepticism. Especially nowadays. While not quite yet ready to surrender his province to the meta-historians , the historian continues diligently (...) to scrutinize his sources with such wary Pyrrhonism as he can muster. He is especially suspicious of those ancients whose intelligence and whose literary gifts he most admires, hence the unrelenting distrust of authors such as Cicero and Caesar – and recently even such paragons of accuracy as Polybius. Still, a few authors have earned our unconscious credence, it would seem, merely by dint of their artlessness; we simply do not respect them enough to doubt them. A case in point: Varro's De Re Rustica, a remarkable ensemble of three dialogues, a highly literary work, yet one whose obvious inadequacies have distracted readers from its attempts at literariness and consequently have led them to take its veracity for granted – even when it relates to items having little or nothing to do with agriculture. A brief passage in the third book of R.R. informs us, or rather seems to inform us, that what was perhaps republican Rome's most illustrious family, the Claudii Pulchri, was reduced to poverty in the seventies B.C. in the aftermath of the death of the consul of 79 – evidence that has been accepted widely by modern scholars. In this paper I hope to show that there is no good reason for believing Varro's Appius when he claims to have been pauperized by his father's death and, furthermore, that to do so is to fail to appreciate the artistry and wry humour with which Varro has composed Book Three. (shrink)

Technical chronology establishes the structure of calendars and the dates of events; it is, as it were, the foundation of history, particularly ancient history. The chronologer must know enough philology to interpret texts and enough astronomy to compute the dates of celestial phenomena, above all eclipses, which alone provide absolute dates. Joseph Scaliger, so we are told, was the first to master and apply this range of technical skills: Of the mathematical principles on which the calculation of periods rests, the (...) philologians understood nothing. The astronomers, on their side, had not yet undertaken to apply their data to the records of ancient times. Scaliger was the first of the philologians who made use of the improved astronomy of the sixteenth century to get a scientific basis for historical chronology. So Mark Pattison. This verdict can be challenged on a number of grounds. The one relevant at present is simple: Scaliger himself claimed far less. He certainly said that technical chronology had been untouched in modern times — not an entirely fair judgement — but in antiquity it had been practised in exactly the manner he considered proper, or so he believed. In particular he singles out Censorinus, whose De die natali drew extensively on Varro's lost Antiquitates rerum humanarum, books 14–19, for information on chronology. Students of Varro have long appreciated the importance of Censorinus. His dry and compact treatise offers Varronian views on etymology, the human life-span, and the course of history itself, all couched in language so jejune as to suggest that he added little or nothing to what he read. (shrink)

Columella’s work De re rustica, written in the first century A. D., is the most comprehensive treatise on agriculture extant from Graeco-Roman antiquity. An important part of his work is the treatment of animals, ranging from larger ones such as oxen, cows, horses and mules (dealt with in Book 6) to smaller ones such as sheep, goats, swine and dogs (discussed in Book 7). He devotes special sections to various types of birds, in particular chickens, and to fishes (Book 8) (...) as well as wild animals and bees (Book 9). The aim of this article is to analyse the roles and functions of animals for the ideal farmer (perfectus agricola) as outlined by Columella. While economic concerns are indeed important to him, he also takes into account numerous other aspects such as the emotional dimension between animal and farmer. The paper further highlights instances in the text where the author attributes a certain aesthetic value to animals. The final section attempts a brief comparison with Varro’s De re rustica. (shrink)

Pliny's Natural History is often referred to as one of the first western encyclopedias and its encyclopedism is central to how it is used and understood. This article argues for a reassessment of the grounds on which we call the Natural History an encyclopedia by reexamining its relationship to the works of Cato, Varro, and Celsus and to the ancient educational concept of enkuklios paideia. If Pliny's Natural History is an encyclopedia, it is not because it belonged to an ancient (...) genre of encyclopedias that ancient readers and writers recognized as such; its encyclopedism needs to be understood instead as a product of the text's reception history. (shrink)

Toward the end of the Republic, Cicero was not alone in planning to collect his own letters for publication. Most likely, Caesar and Varro, among others, intended to do the same, and Cicero had access to letters by the Elder Cato and Cornelia. But it was not only authors or recipients who assembled and circulated letters. In December 59, Cicero wrote to his brother Quintus, who was concluding his mandate as governor of Asia, and encouraged him to leave behind a (...) positive image of himself. In particular, Cicero did not hide his concern at some carelessness Quintus displayed in sending out certain letters : of those, Quintus should destroy the ones he was able to find, while nothing could be done about some collections which had already been circulated and criticized. In other words, both the authors and their ill-wishers selected, assembled and circulated letters. Who chose which letters mattered enormously, since collections had the power to enhance or damage a person's public image. (shrink)

The two central themes of Fasti are twice linked in this way. The association, which at once gives the poem the appearance of having a literary ancestry in the aetiological tradition, might have seemed inevitable: any verse narrative account of a festival is very likely to contain an αтιоν of it. Callimachus' hymns illustrate this assertion, and there are clearly defined hymnic elements in Fasti to bear out the comparison, for example the listing of Venus' αεтαί and Πρáξεις at 4.91ff. (...) and the instructions to the devotees of Pales at 4.731–48. 4 To state the obvious fact that the poem combines Roman antiquities with Alexandrian aetiology, a blending of which more straightforward examples are to be found in the fourth book of Propertius, is only a prelude to establishing what Ovid really achieves in Fasti. Traditional elements are, as I hope to show, cunningly exploited to create ‘counter–effects’ and to subject the material to the constantly varying and wide–ranging influences of the poet's literary background. Though the notion of causa is central to Fasti, the poem is much more than an amalgam of such influences as the aetiological prose works of Varro and Verrius Flaccus with the aetiological poetics of Propertius 4.5 These sources combined to provide material for the foundation of the finished structure, which was to be the creative manipulation of these antiquarian and literary stimuli directed at providing a vehicle for the regular themes of the Ovidian persona. (shrink)

Among the clothes Ariadne is wearing in this scene is a finely woven headdress which Catullus terms a ‘mitra’ . Commentators have defined this mitra variously as a ‘scarf’ , a ‘cap or bonnet’ and a ‘kind of hairnet’ . In Greek literature, a ‘mitra’ is any piece of cloth worn by women in various ways to tie up their hair. While the word came to be used by Latin writers, it seems to have retained its specifically Greek associations. Varro (...) refers to ‘mitra’ as a Greek word: mitra et reliqua ferre in capite postea addita cum vocabulis Graecisd. (shrink)

The following essay will deal with the statue gallery of the summi viri from the Forum of Augustus and will give an overview of the fragments and thus identifiable persons. In a second step, this essay analyses possible Augustan literary archetypes of the statuary gallery, namely Vergil’s Aeneid and Varro’s Imagines, and try to reconstruct further persons based on these possible predecessors. Finally, an annotated catalogue of fragments of the inscriptions is provided in an appendix.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Religion and Philosophy from Plato's Phaedo to the Chaldaean Oracles PHILIP MERLAN A FEW YEARSAGO another of the so-called Orphic tablets was found? Like the previously known ones~it is an instruction for the deceased--it tells him what he will find in the beyond and how he is to act to secure for himself a blessed afterlife. As a rule the tablets differ somewhat in their wording and the newly (...) found is particularly remarkable in that the deceased, when asked by the guards of the Spring of Memory what his business here is, is instructed to answer, "I am a child of the Earth and o~octvo~5~aveOo~v~og ~ and my name is Asterios. ''~ Now, it is generally recognized that the tablets are the product of some mystery religion? The new tablet suggests that part of its initiation ceremony might have been the experience of a mock death and a mock rebirth, the latter symbolized by the assuming of a new name? XN. M. Verdelis, "XaXr~ 7eCp6~oxos raX~rls ~x r 'ApxaLoXoy~K ~ 'Er 1950-1951 (Athens, 1951), pp. 80-105, esp. pp. 99-105. 2 Their text can be found in any edition of Diels-Kranz, VS. New finds: N. M. Verdelis, '0pr162 ~,&rt*ara ~ Kpr "Ap~ca~oXo*t~x~"E~tzep~ 1953-54, Second Part (Athens, 1958), pp. 56-60. On their character (Orphic? Pythagorean?), see F. Cumont, Lex perpetua (Paris, 1944), p. 406. Which mystery religion professed these two as obviously the highest deities? One is tempted to think of the mysteries of Samothrace, as in them these two deities played a conspicuous role according to Varro, De lingua lat. V 58 (cf. B. Cardauns, Varros 'Logistoricus' iiber die G6tterverehrung [Wiirzburg, 1960], pp. 60-67). 4 dar (~po4pro~)seems to me an evident conjecture by Verdelis. See, e.g., M. P. Nilsson, Geschichte der griechischen Religion, Vol. 2 (Miinchen, 1950), pp. 223-227. 0This is the assumption of Verdelis, XaXxr ~'e,~0~oxo~ with which I agree. On baptismal names see, e.g., A Oepke, "AM~IOAAEIY~ im griechischen und hellenistischen Kult," Archiv fiir Religionswissenschaft 31 (1934), pp. 42-56, esp. 52, note 5 (den Anstoss---scil. to bestowing of a new name on the initiate--gaben wohl primitive Wiedergeburtsgedanken). It seems to me that the Pindaric lines praising him who descends to the netherworld if he had been initiated, because he ot~e ~p fllov.reXew'gu,/olSeJ,~b.&6a~orol,tlpx~p (fr. 137a Sch) are to be explained by assuming that Pindar is here alluding to the experience of mock death (~-~,ev~-~) and mock rebirth (apX~), though it remains unclear whether the initiate experienced them in his own person or was only shown something (e.g. the burial of a seed followed by its shooting into an ear) symbolizing such events. [163] 164 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY And it is only natural to suppose that the initiation ceremony was preceded by some kind of ritual purification. In one more respect the new tablet is remarkable. It is the oldest we know. It belongs to the mid-fourth century. And this means that perhaps only a few years separate it from the date of the publication of Plato's Phaedo.' Now, as everybody knows, the Phaedo has something to say on mystery religions. Socrates first explains to his friends why he is not only not afraid of death but even looking forward to it. All his life long, he says, he was a philosopher and philosophy, as he sees it, is nothing else but ~X~-c~l0ctvd,ov. And as he explains in what way philosophy is a preparation for death, he time and again uses for the description of the philosopher's way of life the word 'pure' and its cognates (Phaedo 67d-e; 69a6-e5 [~d~}aqot~,•, ~xa0a0~vog], so that in the end the philosopher's way of life can by Socrates be described as purification-obviously purification not in its ritual sense of the word but, as Socrates sees it, in its true sense. And now Socrates clinches his argument and says: And it seems indeed that the men to whom we are indebted for the institution of... (shrink)

A recent study has argued from theological and classicizing parallels that the first, anti-pagan book of Augustine’s De consensu euangelistarum belongs between 406 and 412 CE. This article defends the traditional dating ca. 400–405 CE, implied by Retractationes. Uncertainty over the dating of parallels in De trinitate 1–4 cautions against reliance on theological peculiarities (a variant of John 5:19 and the phrase unitas personae, both otherwise paralleled in the 410s CE or later), while a close review of the patterns of (...) classical citation proves resemblance to De ciuitate dei to be superficial. Not only does Augustine demonstrably cite the same classical texts on widely separated occasions, De consensu euangelistarum 1 evinces little of Augustine’s later knowledge of Porphyry and Varro. The crowning proof comes, however, in a brief rebuttal to pagan complaints over contemporary misfortunes. Although he focuses on Rome’s religious history, Augustine omits any hint of Alaric’s sack (410 CE), the religious-political instability of 408–409 CE, or Radagaisus’ invasion of Italy (405–406 CE), all of key importance for later works. The book’s method, scope, and tenor place it neatly within the span 400–405 CE, as our first testimony to the interreligious milieu for which De ciuitate dei would later be aimed. (shrink)

In his De philosophia, Varro lists 288 philosophical schools on the highest good before presenting Antiochus’s doctrine as the only true one. One of the particularities of his moral doxography consists in including cynicism which has never been mentioned in the previous moral sources. This paper therefore aims to show that the De philosophia represents a major turning point for the Roman reflection on cynicism. First, Varro defines cynicism as a simple way of life (habitus) and not a doctrine (ratio) (...) so that it could be adopted by all other philosophies. In fact, by ‘reducing’ cynicism to a way of life Varro makes it compatible with his conception of the highest good based on social duties. In that respect, his position on cynicism is opposite to Cicero’s who, in his De officiis, considers cynicism as a dangerous philosophy for Roman values. Finally, Varro uses cynicism as a conceptual tool for thinking, in philosophical terms, one of the most important issues that run through all his work: the relationship between happiness and Ancient Roman simplicity, especially in the context of Roman decadency. For instance, in Varro’s Menippean Satires, Cynics’s destitution partly reminds of the Ancient Romans’ austerity. Therefore, by mentioning cynicism in his moral doxography, Varro gives an original and Roman treatment of the Antiochian inquiry into the concept highest good. (shrink)

Virgil has Evander trace the origins of the name of the river Tiber back to the death of a giant, called ‘Thybris’ (Aen. 8.330–2). This article argues that the reference to the violent (asper) giant can be understood as etymological wordplay on the Greek word hubris and as a potential allusion to the grammatical debate on the nature of aspiration. Varro's De gente populi Romani is identified as an important source for the characterization of the Tiber as a giant in (...) primeval times. The political implications of the word hubris are also briefly explored with reference to various identities to which Evander alludes. The final part of the article argues that Theocritus’ Idyll 1 and the scholiast to Theocritus may have also inspired Virgil's description of the Tiber in this passage. (shrink)

In the middle of September, 47 b.c., Cicero obtained a copy of Atticus' recently published Liber Annalis, which he was consequently able to use in preparing his Brutus and his Tusculans and De Senectute . Atticus himself had consulted Varro's works on questions of literary history . Cicero, reading his friend's work, found himself in the thick of a controversy about the beginnings of Latin literature.