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                <requestUrn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:1.3.13-1.4.14</requestUrn>
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            <reply>
                <urn>urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2:1.3.13-1.4.14</urn>
                <passage>
                    <TEI xmlns="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><text xml:lang="eng"><body><div n="urn:cts:latinLit:phi1002.phi001.perseus-eng2" type="translation" xml:lang="eng"><div n="1" type="textpart" subtype="book"><div n="3" type="textpart" subtype="chapter"><div n="13" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> There must be no delay, then, in warning a boy that his actions must be
                            unselfish, honest, self-controlled, and we must never forget the words
                            of Virgil, <quote rend="blockquote"><cit><quote><l part="N">So strong is custom formed in early
                                            years.</l></quote><bibl default="false">Georg. ii. 272.</bibl></cit></quote> I disapprove of flogging, although it is the regular
                            custom and meets with the acquiescence of Chrysippus, because in the
                            first place it is a disgraceful form of punishment and fit only for
                            slaves, </p></div><div n="14" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> and is in <pb n="v1-3 p.61"/> any case an insult, as you will realise if
                            you imagine its infliction at a later age. Secondly if a boy is so
                            insensible to instruction that reproof is useless, he will, like the
                            worst type of slave, merely become hardened to blows. Finally there will
                            be absolutely no need of such punishment if the master is a thorough
                            disciplinarian. </p></div><div n="15" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> As it is, we try to make amends for the negligence of the boy's <hi rend="italic">paedagogus,</hi> not by forcing him to do what is
                            right, but by punishing him for not doing what is right. And though you
                            may compel a child with blows, what are you to do with him when he is a
                            young man no longer amenable to such threats and confronted with tasks
                            of far greater difficulty? </p></div><div n="16" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Moreover when children are beaten, pain or fear frequently have results
                            of which it is not pleasant to speak and which are likely subsequently
                            to be a source of shame, a shame which unnerves and depresses the mind
                            and leads the child to shun and loathe the light. </p></div><div n="17" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Further if inadequate care is taken in the choices of respectable
                            governors and instructors, I blush to mention the shameful abuse which
                            scoundrels sometimes make of their right to administer corporal
                            punishment or the opportunity not infrequently offered to others by the
                            fear thus caused in the victims. I will not linger on this subject; it
                            is more than enough if I have made my meaning clear. I will content
                            myself with saying that children are helpless and easily victimised, and
                            that therefore no one should be given unlimited power over them. </p></div><div n="18" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> I will now proceed to describe the subjects in which the boy must be
                            trained, if he is to become an orator, and to indicate the age at which
                            each should be commenced. </p></div></div><div n="4" type="textpart" subtype="chapter"><div n="1" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> As soon as the boy has learned to read and <pb n="v1-3 p.63"/> write
                            without difficulty, it is the turn for the teacher <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">grammaticus</hi> is the
                                teacher of literature and languages; at times it is necessary to
                                restrict its meaning to <quote>grammar.</quote>
                        </note> of
                            literature. My words apply equally to Greek and Latin masters, though I
                            prefer that a start should be made with a Greek: </p></div><div n="2" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> in either case the method is the same. This profession may be most
                            briefly considered under two heads, the art of speaking correctly and
                            the interpretation of the poets; but there is more beneath the surface
                            than meets the eye. </p></div><div n="3" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> For the art of writing is combined with that of speaking, and correct
                            reading precedes interpretation, while in each of these cases criticism
                            has its work to perform. The old school of teachers indeed carried their
                            criticism so far that they were not content with obelising lines or
                            rejecting books whose titles they regarded as spurious, as though they
                            were expelling a supposititious child from the family circle, but also
                            drew up a canon of authors, from which some were omitted altogether.
                        </p></div><div n="4" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Nor is it sufficient to have read the poets only; every kind of writer
                            must be carefully studied, not merely for the subject matter, but for
                            the vocabulary; for words often acquire authority from their use by a
                            particular author. Nor can such training be regarded as complete if it
                            stop short of music, for the teacher of literature has to speak of metre
                            and rhythm: nor again if he be ignorant of astronomy, can he understand
                            the poets; for they, to mention no further points, frequently give their
                            indications of time by reference to the rising and setting of the stars.
                            Ignorance of philosophy is an equal drawback, since there are numerous
                            passages in almost every poem based on the most intricate questions of
                            natural philosophy, while among the Greeks we have Empedocles and among
                            our own poets Varro and Lucretius, all of <pb n="v1-3 p.65"/> whom have
                            expounded their philosophies in verse. </p></div><div n="5" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> No small powers of eloquence also are required to enable the teacher to
                            speak appropriately and fluently on the various points which have just
                            been mentioned. For this reason those who criticise the art of teaching
                            literature as trivial and lacking in substance put themselves out of
                            court. Unless the foundations of oratory are well and truly laid by the
                            teaching of literature, the superstructure will collapse. The study of
                            literature is a necessity for boys and the delight of old age, the sweet
                            companion of our privacy and the sole branch of study which has more
                            solid substance than display. </p></div><div n="6" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> The elementary stages of the teaching of literature must not therefore
                            be despised as trivial. It is of course an easy task to point out the
                            difference between vowels and consonants, and to subdivide the latter
                            into semivowels and mutes. But as the pupil gradually approaches the
                            inner shrine of the sacred place, he will come to realise the intricacy
                            of the subject, an intricacy calculated not merely to sharpen the wits
                            of a boy, but to exercise even the most profound knowledge and
                            erudition. </p></div><div n="7" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> It is not every ear that can appreciate the correct sound of the
                            different letters. It is fully as hard as to distinguish the different
                            notes in music. But all teachers of literature will condescend to such
                            minutiae: they will discuss for instance whether certain necessary
                            letters are absent from the alphabet, not indeed when we are writing
                            Greek words (for then we borrow two letters <note anchored="true" place="unspecified">Y and Z.</note> from them), but in the case of
                            genuine Latin words: </p></div><div n="8" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> for example in words such as <hi rend="italic">seruus</hi> and <hi rend="italic">uulgus</hi> we feel the lack of the Aeolic digamma;
                            there is also a sound intermediate between <pb n="v1-3 p.67"/>
                        <hi rend="italic">u</hi> and <hi rend="italic">i,</hi> for we do not
                            pronounce <hi rend="italic">optimum</hi> as we do <hi rend="italic">opimum,</hi> while in <hi rend="italic">here</hi> the sound is
                            neither exactly <hi rend="italic">e</hi> or <hi rend="italic">i.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="9" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again there is the question whether certain letters are not superfluous,
                            not to mention the mark of the aspirate, to which, if it is required at
                            all, there should be a corresponding symbol to indicate the opposite:
                            for instance <hi rend="italic">k,</hi> which is also used as an
                            abbreviation for certain nouns, and <hi rend="italic">q,</hi> which,
                            though slanted slightly more by us, resembles both in sound and shape
                            the Greek <hi rend="italic">koppa,</hi> now used by the Greeks solely as
                            a numerical sign <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">K</hi> = Kaeso, Kalendae, 'Karthago, Kaput,
                                Kalumnia, etc. The <hi rend="italic">q</hi> -sound can be expressed
                                by c. <hi rend="italic">Koppa</hi> (ZZZ) as a numeral = 90. </note>
                            : there is also <hi rend="italic">x,</hi> the last letter of our own
                            alphabet, which we could dispense with as easily as with <hi rend="italic">psi.</hi>
                     </p></div><div n="10" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> Again the teacher of literature will have to determine whether certain
                            vowels have not been consonantalised. For instance <hi rend="italic">iam</hi> and <hi rend="italic">etiam</hi> are both spelt with an
                                <hi rend="italic">i, uos</hi> and <hi rend="italic">tuos</hi> both
                            with a <hi rend="italic">u.</hi> Vowels, however, when joined as vowels,
                            either make one long vowel (compare the obsolete method of indicating a
                            long vowel by doubling it as the equivalent of the circumflex), or a
                            diphthong, though some hold that even three vowels can form a single
                            syllable; this however is only possible if one or more assume the role
                            of consonants. </p></div><div n="11" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> He will also inquire why it is that there are two vowels which may be
                            repeated, while a consonant can only be followed and modified by a
                            different consonant. <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> The two
                                vowels are <hi rend="italic">i</hi> and <hi rend="italic">u.</hi> A
                                consonant cannot be duplicated within one syllable. </note> But <hi rend="italic">i</hi> can follow <hi rend="italic">i</hi> (for <hi rend="italic">coniicit</hi> is derived from <hi rend="italic">iacit</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> The derivation
                                is mentioned to show that two <hi rend="italic">i's,</hi> not one,
                                are found in the second syllable of <hi rend="italic">coniicit.</hi>
                        </note> ): so too does <hi rend="italic">u,</hi>
                            witness the modern spelling of <hi rend="italic">seruus</hi> and <hi rend="italic">uulgus.</hi> He should also know that Cicero preferred
                            to write <hi rend="italic">aiio</hi> and <hi rend="italic">Maaiiam</hi>
                            with a double <hi rend="italic">i;</hi> in that case one <pb n="v1-3 p.69"/> of them is consonantalised. </p></div><div n="12" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> A boy therefore must learn both the peculiarities and the common
                            characteristics of letters and must know how they are related to each
                            other. Nor must he be surprised that <hi rend="italic">scabillum</hi> is
                            formed from <hi rend="italic">scamnus</hi> or that a double-edged axe
                            should be called <hi rend="italic">bipennis</hi> from <hi rend="italic">pinnus,</hi>
                        <quote>sharp</quote> : for I would not have him fall
                            into the same error as those who, supposing this word to be derived from
                                <hi rend="italic">his</hi> and <hi rend="italic">pennae,</hi> think
                            that it is a metaphor from the wings of birds. </p></div><div n="13" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> He must not be content with knowing only those changes introduced by
                            conjugation and prefixes, such as <hi rend="italic">secat secuit, cadit
                                excidit, caedit excīdit, calcat exculcat,</hi> to which might be
                            added <hi rend="italic">lotus</hi> from <hi rend="italic">lauare</hi>
                            and again <hi rend="italic">inlotus</hi> with a thousand others. He must
                            learn as well the changes that time has brought about even in
                            nominatives. For just as names like <hi rend="italic">Valesius</hi> and
                                <hi rend="italic">Fusius</hi> have become <hi rend="italic">Valerius</hi> and <hi rend="italic">Furius,</hi> so <hi rend="italic">arbos, labos, vapos</hi> and even <hi rend="italic">clamos</hi> and <hi rend="italic">lases</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"><hi rend="italic">i.e.</hi> of lares. </note>
                            were the original forms. </p></div><div n="14" type="textpart" subtype="section"><p> And this same letter <hi rend="italic">s,</hi> which has disappeared
                            from these words, has itself in some cases taken the place of another
                            letter. For our ancestors used to say <hi rend="italic">mertare</hi> and
                                <hi rend="italic">pultare.</hi>
                        <note anchored="true" place="unspecified"> For <hi rend="italic">mersare</hi> and <hi rend="italic">pulsare.</hi>
                        </note> They also said <hi rend="italic">fordeum</hi> and <hi rend="italic">faedi,</hi> using
                                <hi rend="italic">f</hi> instead of the aspirate as being a kindred
                            letter. For the Greeks unlike us aspirate <hi rend="italic">f</hi> like
                            their own <hi rend="italic">phi,</hi> as Cicero bears witness in the <hi rend="italic">pro Fundanio,</hi> where he laughs at a witness who is
                            unable to pronounce the first letter of that name. </p></div></div></div></div></body></text></TEI>
                </passage>
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            </GetPassage>