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peúpatos, Plut. Lucull. 27; or, that which turns from one thing to another, a diversion, Plut. vol. vi. 504; Reiske. In Rhet. the figure Apostrophe.*
On the third rule we need say but little, as it is obvious that, whether a word vary in meaning or remain the same, in different periods or different authors, yet in its syntax it may undergo great changes. For instance, xoigawéw has always the same meaning, yet its construction varies greatly. Homer never joins it immediately with a case, but uses it either absolutely, as at II. B, 207, or more frequently with κατά and the accusative, as πόλεμον κάτα, Auxíny záte, &c., the preposition being always after the substantive. On the contrary, Hesiod, in his Theog. 331, joins it with the genitive-Pindar Olymp, 14, 12. with the accusative—Apollon. Rhod, with the dative.
The fourth rule is one so plain and well-known, that it might seem superfluous to make any remark on it. And yet it must be observed, that to make it really efficient, it must be acted on regularly and systematically. We shall then reap from it advantages, of which, from its meagre use and rare occurrence in our present lexicons, we can now have no conception. Thus, of Cryios and kyvos, it may be said that yos is a much later word, and of a narrower meaning than dryvos; seldom found in the Attic prose writers-never in the tragedians ; while åyvòs is the Homeric form, and used by the Attic poets and orators. Again, of deros and dɛícios—the former is the Homeric form, and used also in Attic prose;
the latter is never found in the epic poets, but constantly used by the tragedians. Again, of dévoqov, that its first appearance
in this form is in Pindar—Homer always using dévdgeov ; that the Ionians, whom the Attic poets sometimes follow, used δένδρος, τo, whence we find in Attic prose the dative plural δένδρεσι, as well as dévopous : Thucyd. 2, 75. Xen. Econ. 4, 14. Schaef. Greg. p. 61, 62. 265.–Again, of the present eius, to go, it may be remarked, that in Homer it frequently occurs as a real present, though he does use it also as a future; but that in Ionic prose, and in the Attic writers, it is, with very few exceptions, a real future; and that it does not revert back to the regular sense of a present until in such later authors as Pausanias and Plutarch ;-- which, however, holds good, strictly speaking, only of the indicative, next of the infinitive and participle : the Attics use it more frequently than èmevooluat and Togeuoquet, Valcken. Hippol. 1065. Some isolated instances of elut, with the sense of a present, in the best Attic writers, may be found in Herm. de Asch. Danaid. p. 8.
* Observe, in exemplification of our caution as to the application of our first rule in a preceding note, that the first usage of this word is here taken from Euripides; the second from a much earlier writer--Herodotus.
Such observations as these will show how extensively useful this rule may be made.
The fifth rule may require a little illustration to make our meaning clearly understood. Let us take for that purpose ανδάνω. . We know that this has been the form in regular use from Homer's time, but we find it joined with a fut. ad now, an aor. 2. ädov, ádɛīv, and a perf. &ādu, which cannot be formed from ανδάνω, but must be traced back to another form αδέω,-as to which, though we have no positive authority for it, we may yet fairly conclude either that it was in actual use at the time these tenses were first formed, or that those who formed them had good reasons for supposing its previous existence. Our rule, therefore, directs that adéw should be admitted into the lexicon, and placed in its proper alphabetical situation, and that whether any authority for it be found among the grammarians or not, as thus,
’Adéw, to please: not used in pres. but supplies dvdávw with fut, αδήσω ; aor. 2. άδον , αδείν ; perf. έαδα, Dor. έαδα [-]
Again, ávoćuw would run thus
Ανδάνω, (ήδω, ήδομαι) imperf. ήνδανον, and έήνδανον, Ηom.Att. sometimes sóvdavov. From the obsolete form ádéw come a fut. konow, Herodot, and Att. aor. &ãoov; besides which Homer has the aor. εvždov, which like ädor (] is only poet.- Perf. tada, Dor. ada. To please, &c.
In the same way we should admit láw as an obs. theme to form the poet. perf. γέγαα for γέγονα, perf. to γίγνομαι.-Δάω, whence δέδαα-Θάφω, whence τέθηκα, and έτάφον–and many others, the adoption or rejection of which must be left to the judgment of the lexicographer.
We have observed in Passow's lexicon a very simple and judicious way of marking the difference between the tenses formed regularly from the usual form and those formed from some other obsolete one. For instance, Passow would call hvoavoy the imperfect of άνδάνω, but αθήσω the future to ανδάνω; the different particles expressing that the former is formed regularly from it, but that the latter is only joined with it and placed under it for convenience. A plan of the same kind might be introduced into our grammars and lexicons with singular advantage, as it would often impress on the minds of younger students an important distinction, which now too generally escapes observation, or passes off under the indefinite term of an irregularity.
We have been the more minute in illustrating these rules, because we are heartily ashamed of the present state of our lexicons and dictionaries—and, after the maturest consideration, feel convinced that the Greek language can never be studied as it deserves to be, nor fully understood, until we possess a lexicon formed
on some such plan, and by some such rules, as we have drawn up. We are confident, that no Greek lexicon, unless conducted on such principles, will be of any extensive use to the classical world, or permanently redound to the credit of its author : whereas, if managed in the manner we have described, with suitable care and talent, it would prove an eternal monument of the learning and industry of its compilers, and soon throw into disuse all the editions of Stephanus, or Scapula, or Schneider, which ever have been or ever will be published. *
ART. VIII.--1. Hernani. Par Victor Hugo. 1831.
(A. Dumas). 1832. 12. Hernani, and Catherine of Cleves. Translated from the
French by Lord Francis Leveson Gower. 1832.
that we know of, yet remarked, that though literature had the chief hand in preparing the French Revolution, it had little influence on its progress, and little share in its success. The men of the pen
* Since writing the above, we have seen the fourth number of the Paris Thesaurus, which, to our surprise, is not an immediate continuation of the former three numbers, but the commencement of the letter B, and not compiled by the same editors. M. Hase, indeed, it seems, still superintends the whole; but while his former associates are continuing their labours in A, two new coadjutors, Messrs. Willia:n and Louis Dindorf, have produced the first number of B. We have looked through this number as carefully as the time would permit, and have to congratulate M. Hase on a very considerable improvement. Had the three earlier numbers been managed with equal care and judgment, much of the censure which we have thought it our painful duty to inflict would have been spared. The Messrs. Dindorf have skilfully dovetailed some very excellent emendations and additions into the original matter. A little more concentration and abridgment might have been better ; but the improvement is such that we must be satisfied with the present, and look forward to the future with the hope of its further increase. M. Hase, too, comes but seldom on the stage with his ecclesiastical quotations, and Ast's Plato has entirely disappeared; we hope, is not entirely neglected. We would hope, too, that the Messrs. Dindorf will not overlook Passow's lexicon as their predecessors have done. Etymology they seem to have almost forgotten. The purchasers of the Thesaurus, will, therefore, learn with pleaVOL, LI. NO, CI.
undermined the social and political system of ancient France; but they hid themselves before the men of the pike, and slowly and servilely crawled to light again only to prostrate themselves before the men of the sword, who, in the natural course of the revolutionary cycle, erected out of the ruins of former governments a military despotism. During this long series of political change, while everything else was assuming new forms and deviating into unexplored routes, literature alone adhered to its ancient traditions, and the critical dogmas of the age of Louis XIV. were, with little variation, in full force on the day of the downfall of Napoleon. The reason of this was two-fold: first, that until the Restoration, France never really enjoyed anything like freedom of the press; and secondly, that, up to the same period, men's minds were irresistibly engrossed by, and their energies directed to, more practical objects; political ambition and military enthusiasm absorbed almost all the talents of the nation; and those who in a state of liberty and peace would have exerted the vigour of their characters in opening new paths of literature, were obliged to seek their fortunes in the public offices, or in the ranks of the army, We speak, of course, only of imaginative or popular literature, -that which more immediately appeals to, and depends upon public opinion and the nature of the government. The higher sciences are cultivated by a small class of recluses, who, in the safe obscurity of the study, are little affected by political changes; and the more practical branches are excited, if not encouraged, by rapid changes in the social system. Geometry, therefore, and physics pursued their silent and equable courses, while chemistry, geology, medicine, and all the utilitarian class of studies, partook in some degree of the general movement; but novels, poetry, and the drama, were repressed and restricted to their old paths-under the republic by fear-and under the empire by a better disguised, but not less effective, coercion—by that power which has been so well characterized as an iron hand in a velvet glove! But whatever may be thought of the theory by which we account for it, the fact is equally certain and curious, that the popular literature of France has, from the reign of Louis
sure, that by contraction and concentration of matter this number contains nearly twice as much-or, we should rather say, advances nearly twice as far in the same number of pages—as either of the former three. Still, however, computing the length of the work by the diminished scale of this number, it will be, at least, twice as long as the Prospectus gave reason to expect; nor do we see how it can be brought at all within anything like the promised size, without injury to the work, unless the plan be altered so as to omit all those hundreds of names of persons and places, most of them quite uninteresting, which now occupy so large a space. And then, after all, what between the different relays of editors, and their different modifications of the original plan, what an incongruous whole must poor Stephanus become !
XIV. to that of Louis XVIII., exbibited, amidst the wonderful mutability of that volcanic century, little alteration in its principles, and little novelty in its productions.
The Restoration did not, at first, effect any sensible change. Though the press was freer than it had ever been before, it was still subject to the censorship of the government; and the first tendency of a return to legitimate monarchy was to give additional authority to the literary doctrines of l'ancien régime--the circumstances which recalled to power the descendants of Louis XIV, naturally revived the influence of the admirers of Boileau and Racine.
But a state of freedom, the first France had ever known, and a state of tranquillity, the first she had experienced for fifty years, soon began to operate on the minds of the literary youth. The censure politique became every day less rigid, and the censure littéraire of Geoffroy, Martainville, and other periodical critics of the old school, having wholly vanished, considerable deviations from the beaten tracks were soon observable. These deviations became more frequent and more striking as the authority of Charles X. declined under the pressure of the various engines which were directed against it, and as the students in the different professions, and particularly the young littérateurs, began to find that they were a power in the state.
There had been for some years two schools in French literature, which they chose to designate as the Classical and the Romantic; the Classicals adhered to the elegant regularity of Boileau, Racine, and Voltaire; the Romantics professed to imitate the livelier independence of the Germans and the English. The Classicals were the Roman Catholics of literature—they reverenced a kind of papal infallibility in Aristotle and his successors, and, by too rigorous an adherence to antiquated errors and abuses, brought into contempt a system, which, though originally founded in nature and truth, was disfigured by absurd formalities and incredible fictions. On the other hand, the Romantics, like the Calvinists, pushed their contempt of the ancient authority so far, that, in eradicating the errors, they sacrificed many of the decencies of the old school, and have at length, since the Revolution of July 1830, run into all the immoral and mischievous extravagance of freethinking. But as it was in religion-so it is in literature :—there was and is a happy mean—which we flatter ourselves England has had the good taste to discover, and the good sense to adopt-between the antiquated formalities of the old school, and the extravagant licence of the new :—but the French nation is not fitted for a juste milieu—its literature divided itself into the Classical and the Romantic, which might better be denominated the pedantic and the extravagant