Ne sutor ultra crepidam—Pliny (sū´tor ul´tra crep´i-dam).—Let the cobbler stick to his last;i. e., let everyone attend to his own business.
Nihil ad rem(ni´hil ad rem).—Nothing to the point.
Nullum quod tetigit non ornavit(kwod tet´i-git non ornÄ´vit).—He touched nothing which he did not adorn. These Latin words form part of Dr. Johnson’s epitaph on Oliver Goldsmith in Westminster Abbey.
Nil conscire sibi—Horace (con-sī´re sib´ī).—To be conscious of no wrong.
Nil desperandum.—Never despair.
Nisi Dominus frustra(ni´si dom´in-us frus´trÄ).—Unless the Lord be with us, we strive in vain. Motto of the City of Edinburgh.
Nisi prius(ni´si prī´us)—literally, Unless previously. A trial atNisi Priusmay be defined as a trial, before a judge and jury, of a civil action that has been brought in one of the superior courts.
Nolens volens(nÅ´lens vÅ´lens).—Whether he will or not.
Noli me tangere(nÅ´lÄ« me tan´jer-e).—Don’t touch me.
Nolle prosequi(noll´e prÅ´sek-wÄ«).—To be unwilling to proceed (legal term). An undertaking by a plaintiff that he will not proceed with part or the whole of his suit.
Non compos mentis(kom´poss men´tiss).—Not sound in mind.
Non constat(kon´stat).—It does not appear.
Non est inventus(inven´tus).—He has not been found.
Non licet(liss´et).—It is not lawful.
Non multa, sed multum(mul´ta sed mul´tum).—Not many things, but much.
Non obstante(ob-stan´te).—Notwithstanding.
Non omnia possumus omnes—Virgil (om´ni-a poss´u-mus om´nēs).—We cannot, all of us, do all things.
Non quo sed quomodo(kwÅ sed kwÅ´mod-Å).—Not by whom, but in what manner.
Non sequitur(sek´wit-ur).—It does not follow.
Non sibi, sed patriæ(sib´i sed pat´ri-ē).—Not for himself, but for his country.
Nosce teipsum(nos´se tē-ip´sum).—Know thyself. The Latin form of the Greek inscription over the portico of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi.
Noscitur ex sociis(noss´i-tur ex sÅ´si-Ä«s).—He is known by his companions.
Nota bene(N. B.) (nÅ´tÄ bē´nÄ“).—Mark well.
Novus homo(nov´us hom´o).—A new man—one who has raised himself from obscurity. Term applied to men who in the days of the Roman Republic and Empire rose to distinction but did not belong to an ancientgens.
Nulli secundus(null´ī se-kun´dus).—Second to none.
Nunc aut nunquam(nunk awt nun´kwam).—Now or never.
O
Obiit(ob´i-it).—He (or she) died. An inscription on tombs, indicating the fact of the death of the person interred.
Obiter dictum(ob´it-er dik´tum).—A thing said by the way, incidentally; plural,obiter dicta.
Odium theologicum(Å´di-um theo-loj´i-kum).—Hatred among divines. Theological controversy usually provoking great bitterness on the part of the disputants.
Omnia ad Dei gloriam(om´ni-a ad Dē´ī glor´i-am).—All things to the glory of God.
Omnia bona bonis(om´ni-a bÅ´na bÅ´nÄ«s).—To the good all things are good.
Onus probandi(Å´nus pro-ban´dÄ«).—The burden of proving (legal).
Optimates(op-ti-mÄ´tÄ“s).—Aristocrats. Literally, the best. In ancient times the aristocracy was composed of men selected for their superior vigor as the best in the tribe.
Opum furiosa cupido—Ovid (op´um furi-Å´sa ku-pī´dÅ).—The ungovernable greed for wealth.
Ora et labora(År嫀 et lab-År´Ä).—Pray and work.
Ora pro nobis(År嫀 pro nÅ´bis).—Pray for us. The words of the refrain of the well-known hymn in the Roman Catholic mass.
Ore rotundo(År´ē rÅ-tun´dÅ).—With round, full voice.
O tempora! O mores!—Horace (tem´por-a mor´ēz).—O the times! O the manners!
Otium cum dignitate(Å´shi-um kum dig-ni-tÄ´te).—Ease with dignity.
Otium sine dignitate(sin´e).—Ease without dignity.
P
Pace tua(pÄ´se tū´Ä).—With your permission.
Pacta conventa(pak´ta con-ben´ta).—Terms agreed on.
Pari passu(par´i pass´u).—With equal pace; in equal proportion.
Pariter pax bello—Cornelius Nepos (par´it-er pax bell´o).—Peace is produced by war:i. e.by a show of hostile preparations war is often averted.
Particeps criminis(par´ti-seps krī´min-iss).—A sharer in the guilt: an accomplice (legal).
Passim(pas´sim).—Everywhere.
Pater noster(pat´er nos´ter).—Our father. The two first words at the commencement of the Lord’s Prayer.
Pater patriæ(pat´er pat´ri-ē).—The father of his country. The name given to Cicero by the Roman Senate. The term was also applied to some other distinguished Romans. In later times Andrea Dorea and George Washington were thus distinguished.
Patres conscripti(pat´rēz kon-skrip´tī),i. e.patres et conscripti.—Fathers and elect—the title of the assembled Senate.
Patria cara, carior libertas(pat´ri-a cÄr´a cÄr´i-or lib´er-tas).—My country is dear, but liberty is dearer.
Pax in bello(bell´o).—Peace in war—i. e., a weak prosecution of hostilities.
Pax vobiscum(vo-bis´kum).—Peace be with you.
Peccavi(pek-kÄ´vÄ«).—I have sinned.
Pendente lite(pen-den´te lī´te).—While the lawsuit is pending (legal).
Peraget angusta ad augusta(per-ag´et an-gus´ta ad aw-gus´ta).—Through difficulties to grandeur.
Per annum.—By the year.
Per centum.—By the hundred.
Per contra.—Contrariwise.
Per diem(dī´em).—By the day.
Per fas et nefas(fass et nef´ass).—Through right and wrong.
Per mare, per terras(mar´e ter´ras).—By sea and by land:i. e., everywhere.
Permitte Divis cetera(per-mitt´e dī´vīs sē´ter-a).—Leave the rest to the gods.
Per saltum(salt´um).—By a leap. A legal phrase frequently used.
Per se.—By itself (legal).
Perseverando(per-sev-er-an´dÅ).—By perseverance.
Petitio principii(pet-ī´shi-o prin-sip´i-i).—A begging of the question.
Pinxit(pinks´it).—He painted it; word placed in the corner of a canvas after the signature of the artist.
Plebs(pleb´s).—Common people. The name given to the third and lowest rank of the orders into which the Roman state was divided.
Pleno jure(plē´no jū´re).—With full authority.
Pluries(plū´ri ēz).—Often, frequently.
Poeta nascitur, non fit—Horace (po-ē´ta nass´it-ur non fit).—A poet is born, not made.
Pons asinorum(ass´in-or´um).—The bridge of asses (applied to Euclid i. 5).
Posse comitatus(poss´e com-i-tÄ´tÅ«s).—The power of the county. A legal phrase expressing the power of the county or citizens, who are summoned to assist an officer, as the sheriff, in suppressing a riot or executing any legal process.
Post bellum auxilium(pÅst bell´um awx-il´i-um).—Help after the war.
Postea(post´e-Ä).—Afterwards.
Post factum nullum consilium(fak´tum null´um con-sil´i-um).—After the deed is done there is no need for consultation.
Post meridiem—P. M. (mer-ī´di-em).—After mid-day.
Post mortem.—After death. Term applied to the examination of a body to discover the cause of death.
Post nubila Phœbus(nū´bil-a fē´bus).—After clouds the sun shines. Phœbus Apollo, “the radiant Apollo,†a god who personified the sun.
Post obitum(ob´it-um).—After death. An undertaking given to a usurer to repay a loan on the death of a relative, from whom money is expected, is called apost obit.
Post tenebras lux(ten´e-bras).—After darkness comes light.
Postulata(post-u-lÄ´ta).—Things demanded.
Prima facie(prī´mÄ fÄ´si-Ä“).—On the first view or appearance. A legal term frequently employed to denote that on the evidence already given there is a good case for further investigation.
Primum mobile(prī´mum mÅ´bil-e).—The source of motion: the mainspring.
Primus inter omnes(prī´mus in´ter om´nēs).—The first among all.
Primus inter pares(par´ēs).—The first among his equals or peers:e. g., an archbishop among bishops.
Principia, non homines(prin-sip´i-a non hom´in-ēs).—Principles, not men.
Principiis obsta(prin-sip´i-īs ob´sta).—Withstand the beginnings (i. e.of evil).
Pro aris et focis(ar´is et fÅ´sÄ«s).—For our altars and our hearths.
Pro bono publico(prÅ bÅnÅ pub´li-kÅ).—For the public good.
Pro et con.—For and against.
Profanum vulgus—Horace (pro-fÄ´num vul´gus).—The common herd.
Pro forma(for´mÄ).—For the sake of form.
Pro hac vice(hak vi´se).—For this time.
Pro patria(pat´ri-Ä).—For our country.
Pro rata(rÄ´ta).—Proportionally.
Pro rege, lege, et grege(rē´je lē´je et grej´e).—For the king, the law, and the people.
Pro re nata(rÄ“ na´tÄ).—Under the present circumstances, as matters are.
Pro salute animæ(sal-ū´te an´im-ē).—For the welfare of the soul.
Pro tanto(tan´to).—As far as it goes.
Pro tempore—pro. tem.(tem´por-e).—For the time being.
Punica fides(pū´nik-a fīdēs).—Punic (or Carthaginian) faith,i. e.treachery.
Q
Quantum(kwan´tum).—As much, so much.
Quantum sufficit(kwan´tum suf-fī´sit).—As much as is sufficient. A term frequently used in medical prescriptions, as Q. S.
Quasi(kwÄ´si).—As if, just as, as it were.
Quid nunc?(kwid nunk).—What now? What news? Also applied as a name to a person who is always seeking to satisfy his curiosity as to current news.
Quid pro quo(kwid prÅ kwÅ).—One thing for another.
Quoad hoc(kwÅ´ad hok).—To this extent.
Quo animo?(kwÅ an´im-Å).—With what purpose or intention?
Quod erat demonstrandum—Q. E. D. (kwod er´at dem-on-stran´dum).—Which was to be proved. A term used in geometry at the end of propositions, to indicate that the theorem is proved.
Quod erat faciendum—Q. E. F. (fas-i-en´dum).—Which was to be done. A term used in geometry at the end of problems, to show that they have been solved.
Quod scripsi, scripsi(skrip´sī).—What I have written, I have written. Words used by Pilate when he refused to alter the inscription he had written over the crucified Savior.
Quod vide—q. v.(vī´de).—Which see.
Quo jure(kwŠjū´re).—By what right.
Quomodo(kwÅ-mod-o).—In what manner, how.
Quondam(kwon´dam).—At one time, once, formerly.
Quos Deus vult perdere, prius dementat(kwÅs dē´us vult per´der-e, prī´us dÄ“-men´tat).—Those whom God has a mind to destroy, He first deprives of their senses.
R
Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno—Ovid (rÄr´a av´iss in ter´rÄ«s nÄ«-grÅ´kwe sim-ill´im-a sig´no).—A rare bird on the earth, and very like a black swan:i. e., a prodigy. This species being almost entirely unknown in the time of the Romans.
Recipe(res´ip-e).—Receive.
Recte et suaviter(rek´tē et swa´vit-er).—Justly and pleasantly.
Redeunt Saturnia regna(red´e-unt sat-ur´ni-a reg´na).—The age of Saturn (i. e.the golden age) returns.
Reductio ad absurdum(re-duk´shi-o ad ab-surd´um).—A reducing a position to an absurdity.
Rem acu tetigisti(rem ak´ū teti-gist´ī).—You have hit the nail on the head (lit.touched the matter with a needle-point).
Requiescat in pace—R. I. P. (rek-wi-ess´kat in pÄ´se).—May he (or she) rest in peace. Symbol used on monuments, expressing a prayer for the repose of the soul.
Res gestæ(rēs jest´ē).—Exploits.
Res judicata(jūdi-ka´ta).—A case or suit already decided.
Respice finem(res´-piss-e fī´nem).—Look to the end.
Respublica(rēs-pub´lik-a).—The common weal; the commonwealth. Name applied to the Roman state prior to the time of the Empire.
Resurgam(re-sur´gam).—I shall rise again. Frequently inscribed on memorials to the dead.
Ride si sapis(rī´de sī sap´iss).—Laugh if you are wise;i. e., the wise cultivate a cheerful habit of mind.
Ruat cœlum(rū´at sē´lum).—Let the heavens fall.
Rus in urbe(russ in ur´be).—The country in town.
S
Sal atticum(sal at´tik-um).—Attic salt—i. e., wit. Salt was used both by the Greeks and Romans as the common term for wit; Attic (i. e.Athenian) wit being especially delicate and elegant.
Salus populi suprema est lex(sal´us pop´u-li su-prē´ma est lex).—The welfare of the people is the supreme law.
Salve(sal´vē).—How are you? I hope you are well. A form of familiar salutation among the Romans.
Salvo jure(sal´vŠjū´re).—Saving the right.
Sanctum sanctorum(sank´tum sank-tor´um).—The holy of holies. In ecclesiastical law the chancel of a church is so called; also frequently applied to a private room or study.
Sartor resartus(sar´tor re-sar´tus).—The tailor patched. The title of Carlyle’s well-known work.
Satis superque(sat´iss su-per´kwe).—Enough and more than enough.
Satis verborum(ver-bor´um).—Enough of words.
Secundum artem(sek-un´dum ar´tem).—According to rule.
Secundum naturam(na-tūr´am).—According to nature.
Semper avarus eget—Horace (sem´per av-Är´us ej´et).—The covetous man is ever in want.
Semper felix(fē´lix).—Always happy.
Semper fidelis(fid-ē´liss).—Always faithful.
Semper idem(ī´dem).—Always the same. (This is the masculine form; the feminine form ise´a-dem, and the neuterid´em—all three singular.)
Semper paratus(par-a´tus).—Always ready.
Senatus populusque Romanus—S. P. Q. R. (sen-Ä´tus popu-lus´kwe Ro-mÄ´nus).—The senate and the Roman people.
Seniores priores(sen-i-or´ēz pri-or´ēz).—Elders first. Elderly persons being accorded in ancient times special reverence. Cicero (106-43 B. C.) wrote a work,De Senectute, in praise of old age.
Seriatim(ser-i-Ä´tim).—In a series.
Servabo fidem(ser-vÄ´bÅ fid´em).—I will keep faith.
Sic(sik).—Thus: so. Generally used ironically to call attention to a literary error.
Sic itur ad astra—Virgil (sik it´ur ad ass´tra).—Such is the way to immortality (lit., to the stars).
Sic passim(pas´sim).—So everywhere.
Sic transit gloria mundi(sik trans´it glor´i-a mun´dī).—Thus passes away earthly glory. Words said to have been used at the inauguration of the early Popes.
Sic vos non vobis—Virgil (sik vÅs non vÅ´biss).—Thus you toil, but not for yourselves. The poet here refers to bees, who make honey, but not for their own use.
Similia similibus curantur(sim-il´i-a sim-il´i-bus ku-ran´tur).—Like things are cured by like. Motto of homœopathic school of medicine.
Sine die(sin´e dī´ē).—Without a day being appointed: indefinitely.
Sine invidia(in-vid´i-Ä).—Without envy.
Sine odio(Å´di-Å).—Without hatred.
Sine qua non(sin´e kwÄ non).—An indispensable condition.
Siste, viator(sis´te vi-Ä´tor).—Stop, traveler.
Si vis pacem, para bellum(sÄ« viss pÄ´sem par嫀 bell´um).—If you wish for peace, prepare for war.
Sola nobilitas virtus(sÅ´la no-bil´itas vir´tus).—Virtue alone is true nobility.
Sola virtus invicta(sÅ´la vir´tus in-vik´ta).—Virtue alone is invincible.
Spectemur agendo(spek-tē´mur a-jen´dÅ).—Let us be tried by our actions.
Spes mea in Deo(spēs mē´a in Dē´o).—My hope is in God.
Spes tutissima cœlis(spēs tu-tiss´im-a sē´līs).—The safest hope is in heaven.
Sponte sua(spon´te su´Ä).—Of one’s own accord.
Stat magni nominis umbra—Lucan (stat mag´nī nom´in-iss um´bra).—He stands the shadow of a mighty name.
Status quo(stÄ´tus kwÅ).—The state in which. A legal term indicating the position in which a case stood before certain action was taken in it.
Status quo ante bellum(an´te bell´um).—The state in which both parties were before the war.
Stet.—Let it stand—i. e., remain as it was.
Sua cuique voluptas(sū´a ku-ī´kwe vol-up´tas).—Every man has his own pleasures.
Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re(su-Ä´vit-er in mod´o for´ti-ter in rÄ“).—Gentle in the manner, but vigorous in the deed.
Sub judice(jū´diss-e).—Under consideration. A legal phrase used to indicate that a case is still under consideration, during which time it is held to be contempt of court to comment upon the case in the public press or elsewhere.
Sub pÅ“na(pē´nÄ).—Under a penalty.
Sub rosa(rÅ´sÄ).—Under the rose: privately. The rose in ancient times was the emblem of silence, and was used in decorations to show that anything said during the entertainment was not to be divulged. Cupid presented Harpocrates (the god of Silence) with a rose, not to betray the amours of Venus.
Sub silentio(sil-en´shi-o).—In silence.
Sufficit(suf-fī´sit).—It is enough.
Sui generis(sū´ī jen´er-iss).—Of its own kind;i. e., not referable to any particular class.
Summum bonum(sum´mum bÅ´num).—The chief good.
Suo marte(sū´o mar´te).—By one’s own exertions, without the assistance of others.
Suppressio veri(sup-press´i-o vēr´ī).—Suppression of the truth.
Suum cuique(su´um ku-ī´kwe).—Let every man have his own.
T
Tabula rasa(tab´u-la rÄ´sa).—A smooth or blank tablet. From the waxen tablets on which the ancients wrote with a sharp instrument called astilusor style, and with the broad upper end of which writing was erased.
Tanto melior!(tan´tŠmel´i-or).—So much the better! well done! excellent!
Telum imbelle sine ictu—Virgil (tē´lum im-bell´e sin´e ik´tū).—A feeble weapon, thrown without effect.
Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis(tem´-por-a mÅ«-tan´tur et nÅs mÅ«-tÄ´mur in ill´īs).—The times are changed, and we with them.
Tempus fugit(fū´jit).—Time flies. A Latin inscription frequently seen upon sun-dials and old church clocks.
Tempus omnia revelat(om´nia re-vē´lat).—Time unveils all things.
Terra firma(ter´ra firm´a).—Solid earth; a safe footing.
Terra incognita(ter´ra in-kog´nit-a).—An unknown country.
Tertium quid(ter´shi-um kwid).—A third something. A logical term.
Toga virilis(tog´a vir-ī liss).—The garb of manhood, assumed by Roman youth in their sixteenth year with considerable ceremony, usually at the feasts of Bacchus in March.
Totidem verbis(tot´id-em ver´bis).—In just so many words.
Toto cÅ“lo(tÅ´tÅ sē´lÅ).—By the whole heavens: diametrically opposite.
Tria juncta in uno(trī´a junk´ta in ū´no).—Three joined in one.
Troja fuit(TrÅ´ja fū´it).—Troy was—i. e., exists no longer. Refers to the destruction of Troy by the Greeks (1184 B. C.).
Tu quoque, Brute!(tÅ« kwÅ´kwe Brū´tÄ“).—And thou too, Brutus! When Brutus, the friend and favorite of Julius Cæsar, struck the latter at his assassination, he uttered the wordsTu quoque, Brute!pulled his toga over his face, and sank, pierced with wounds, at the foot of Pompey’s statue.
U
Ubique(ub-ī´kwe).—Everywhere.
Ubi supra(ub´i su´prÄ).—Where above mentioned.
Ultima ratio regum(ul´tim-a rÄ´shi-o rē´jum).—The last argument of kings. Louis XIV. placed this inscription on his great guns.
Ultima Thule(ul´tim-a Thū´lē).—The utmost boundary or limit.Thulewas an island regarded by the ancients as the most northerly point in the whole earth, and variously supposed to have been Iceland and one of the Shetland group.
Ultimus Romanorum(ul´tim-us Ro-man-or´um).—The last of the Romans.
Ultra vires(ul´trÄ vī´rÄ“s).—Beyond one’s powers; beyond the rights possessed (legal).
Uno animo(ū´no an´im-o).—Of the same opinion.
Usque ad nauseam(us´kwe ad naw´se-am).—To utter disgust.
Ut infra(in´frÄ).—As below.
Ut supra(su´prÄ).—As above.
V
Vade mecum(vÄ´de mē´cum).—Go with me: a constant companion. Title given to medical and other handbooks for convenient reference.
Vale(valē´), orValeas(val´e-ass).—Farewell, adieu. The usual parting salutation of the Romans.
Valeat quantum valere potest(val´e-at kwant´um val-ēr´e pot´est).—Let it pass for what it is worth.
Valete, ac plaudite(val-ē´te ak plaud´it-e).—Farewell, and clap. (The concluding words of a Latin comedy.)
Vanitas vanitatum(van´it-ass van-it-Ä´tum).—Vanity of vanities.
Variæ lectiones(var´i-Ä“ lek-shi-Å´nÄ“s).—Various readings.
Variorum notæ(var-i-or´um nÅ´tÄ“).—The notes of various authors.
Varium et mutabile semper femina—Virgil (var´i-um et mÅ«-tÄ´bil-e sem´per fē´min-a).—A woman is ever changeable and capricious.
Velis remisque(vē´līs rē-mīs´kwe).—With sails and oars—i. e., with tooth and nail, with might and main.
Veni, vidi, vici(vē´nī, vī´dī, vī´sī).—I came, I saw, I conquered. By these three words—so easy was the victory—Julius Cæsar informed the Senate of his having defeated Pharnaces near Zela, 47 B.C.
Ventis secundis(ven´tīs se-kun´dīs).—With favorable winds.
Verbatim et literatim(ver-bÄ´tim et lit-er-Ä´tim).—Word for word and letter for letter.
Verba volant, scripta manent(ver´ba vol´ant, scrip´ta man´ent).—Words fly, writings remain.
Verbum sat sapienti(ver´bum sat sap-i-en´tī).—A word is enough to a wise man.
Veritas odium parit—Terence. Truth procures hatred.
Veritas vincit(very´tass vin´sit).—Truth conquers.
Versus(ver´sus).—Against. A legal term.
Vestigia(ves-tī´ji-a).—Tracks; traces.
Vestigia nulla retrorsum(ves-tī´ji-a null´a ret-ror´sum).—No steps backward.
Vetera extollimus, recentium incuriosi—Tacitus (vet´er-a ex-toll´im-us re-sen´shi-um in-ku-ri-Å´sÄ«).—We exalt the deeds of old, being indifferent to those of recent times.
Vexata quæstio(vex-Ä´ta kwÄ“s´ti-o).—A much-debated question.
Via(vī´Ä).—By way of.
Via media(vī´a med´i-a).—A middle course.
Vice(vi´se).—In the place of.
Vice versa(vi´se ver´sÄ).—The terms being exchanged.
Vide(vī´dē)—See.
Vide et crede(vī´de et krē´de).—See and believe.
Vide ut supra(vī´de ut sū´prÄ).—See as above; see the preceding statement.
Videlicet—viz.(vid-ē´liss-et).—To wit; namely.
Vi et armis(vī et ar´mīs).—By force and arms—i.e., by main force.
Vincit amor patriæ(vin´sit am´or pat´ri-ē).—The love of our country prevails.
Vincit omnia veritas(vin´sit óm´ni-a very´tass).—Truth conquers all things.
Vincit veritas(vin´sit very’tass).—Truth conquers.
Vinculum matrimonii(vin’ku-lum mÄ-tri-mÅ´ni-i).—The bond of marriage.
Vindex injuriæ(vin’dex in-jū´ri-ē).—An avenger of injury.
Vir sapit qui pauca loquitur(vir sap´it kwī paw´sa lok´-wit-ur).—He is a wise man who says but little.
Virtus est vitium fugere—Horace (vir´tus est vish´i-um fū´jer-e).—It is virtue to avoid vice.
Virtuti nihil obstat et armis(vir-tū´tī ni´hil ob´stat et ar´mīs).—Nothing can resist valor and arms.
Virtuti non armis fido(vir-tū´tÄ« non ar´mÄ«s fī´dÅ).—I trust to virtue, and not to arms.
Virtutis amor(vir-tū´tiss am´or).—The love of virtue.
Vis inertiæ(viss in-er´shi-ē).—The power of inertia: passive resistance.
Vivat regina!(vī´vat rē-jī´na).—Long live the Queen! The phrase formerly used at the conclusion of royal proclamations.
Vivat rex!(vī´vat rex).—Long live the King!
Viva voce(vī´vÄ vÅ´se).—By the living voice: by oral testimony. That portion of an examination in which the candidate is tested as to his knowledge of the subject by an examiner who personally interrogates him.
Vivida vis animi(vī´vid-a viss an´im-ī).—The vigorous strength of intellect: the lively vigor of genius.
Vivit post funera virtus(vi´vit post fū´ner-a vir´tus).—Virtue survives the grave.
Vox et præterea nihil(vox et prÄ“-ter´e-Ä ni´hil).—A voice and nothing more.
Vox populi, vox Dei(pop´u-lī, Dē´ī).—The voice of the people is the voice of God. Quoted as a proverb by William of Malmesbury, author of “De Gestis Regum Anglorum,†twelfth century.
Vulgo(vul´gÅ).—Generally, commonly.
Vultus est index animi(vul´tus est in´dex an´im-ī).—The countenance is the index of the mind.
Literature, in the widest sense, is the record of the impressions made by external realities of every kind upon great men, and of the reflections which these men have made upon them.
The subject matter of literature covers the whole range of human life and activity, as well as every known manifestation of physical nature. For not only are actual events and the doings and sayings of actual persons reproduced in it, but the rules deduced from the observation of the conditions of man’s life are included in its records. Similarly it presents to us not merely what individual men found to interest them in particular countries in a particular epoch, but also the general laws which have been gradually formulated by long-continued observation of the processes of nature.
Literature, therefore, plays a very important part in the life of man. It is the greatest of the secondary sources of knowledge, and it makes an immense contribution to the sum total of facts—the joint result of the experience of the individual and of the race—which gives to each one of us a wide outlook upon the world at large. But we must remember that literature—as literature—is concerned solely with thesubjectiveoutlook upon the world.
In order to realize to how large an extent the subjective existence of man is made up of the material of books, we will pause a moment to consider what literature does for us. Through literature we converse with the great dead, with Plato, with Buddha, with Montaigne, with Addison; we walk the streets of Babylon, of Athens, of Rome, of Alexandria; we see great monuments, reared ages ago and long since crumbled to the dust; we recreate the life of distant epochs, and thus by comparison gauge the progress achieved by the men of today. Through literature we learn wisdom from Aristotle, geometry from Euclid, law from Justinian, morality from Christ and St. Paul. Literature makes the physical features, the inhabitants, the climate, the products of the antipodes as familiar as those of the neighboring county.
More than this, the masters of creative literature have made regions of their own which they have peopled with the children of their genius. Homer has given us an Ægean of sunlit islands and purple seas; Dante, a dark and mysterious Inferno; Milton, a Garden of Eden; Shakespeare, an Elizabethan England, with landscapes more brightly hued, and men and women more finely real, than the landscapes or the people of the England of Elizabeth; Molière, a France more natural and more vivid than the France of the Grand Monarque. And so it is that Odysseus, Antigone, Beatrice, Hamlet, Tartufe and the rest, these spiritual offspring of great souls, live side by side with Moses, Alexander, Cæsar, Joan of Arc, Henry VIII., and Washington: for literature has made the personalities of each almost as familiar to us as those of our dearest or most intimate friends.
There is one other important point which must be noticed. It is this: thesubjectiveoutlook reacts upon theobjective. The knowledge of the world which we gain through our own previous experiences, and through literature, increases our capacity for understanding the objective world, and heightens and intensifies the pleasure which we derive from the contemplation of works of art or of nature. It is this principle which underlies the truth which Goethe states when he says that a traveler does not take anything out of Rome which he has not first brought into it.
Just as in the individual the brain preserves a record of his previous sensations, of his experience, and of his acquired knowledge, and it is in the light of this record that he interprets every fresh sensation and experience, so the race at large has a record of its past in literature, and it is in the light of this record alone that its present conditions and circumstances can be understood. The message of the senses is indistinct and valueless to the individual without the co-operation of the brain; the life of the race would be degraded to a mere animal existence[762]without the accumulated stores of previous experience which literature places at its disposal.
So great is the part that books play in our life, or, at least, in the formation of our several personalities, that to master the contents of certain books of admitted excellence has always been considered a chief element in a liberal education; that is to say, it is a recognized method of introducing the mind to the world at large. We must, nevertheless, recognize a broad distinction in the manner in which books render us this assistance. In the case of some books the value of the contribution consists mainly, though not exclusively, in the actual facts which they contain; in others, the actual facts are of secondary importance and their chief value consists in the manner in which these facts are brought before our minds. No hard and fast line can be drawn between the two classes, but the difference may be broadly indicated by saying that while the former give us thefactsof life, the latter give uspicturesof life.
The distinction may be illustrated by one or two examples. Such works as Locke’sEssay on the Human Understanding, and Gibbon’sDecline and Fall of Rome, must obviously be placed under the head of books in which the facts are of first importance. Equally, the novels of George Eliot, in which she gives us a full and truthful picture of English midland life, must be included among those books where the presentation of the facts is of more importance than the facts themselves. And so, too, in the case ofThe Story of an African Farm, where we have a picture of rural life in South Africa, or inDiana of the Crossways. Only in the latter work the personality of the central character is so commanding that the book is not so much a picture as a portrait—a portrait of a beautiful and wayward woman exposed to temptation by the very abundance of her own gifts.
Here, then, we have two distinct elements, matter and manner; and it is upon the degree in which these elements are respectively present in any given work that the main divisions of literature—the division which separates works of creative literature from works of literature, simply so-called—is based.
Poetry, drama, history, biography, essays, description, criticism, the great masterpieces of fiction—all open up to us the untold wealth of reality and imagination.
The English is the most remarkable as well as the most prolific of modern literatures. Before the Saxons invaded Britain there was a Celtic literature of a rhythmic character, preserved, in the main, orally by the Gaelic and Cymric elements of the population. Gaelic literature is associated with Fionn, Ossian, and the battle of Gabhra, alleged to have been fought A. D. 284, while Cymric literature finds powerful utterance in Aneurin’s poem, theGododin, which celebrates the battle of Cattraeth, fought, according to tradition, in the year 570. During the fifth and sixth centuries various Teutonic tribes effected a settlement in Britain, and the island was ultimately subjugated by the Saxons. In the middle of the eleventh century it again suffered conquest at the hands of the Normans. The institutions and language of the conquerors were largely imposed upon the natives, and so great has been the vitality of the Saxon speech that about two-thirds of the words now composing the English language are, radically or derivatively, of Saxon origin.
So, the fabric of English literature is colored with the varying tints of racial characteristics—the somber imagination of the Celt, the flaming passion of the Saxon, the golden gaiety of France, and the prismatic fancy of the South. There have been many influences brought to bear upon its speech; yet, in this composite texture, the Anglo-Saxon element is dominant. That is the first outstanding fact of importance.
The existing remains of Anglo-Saxon literature include compositions in prose and poetry, some of which must be referred to a very early period, one or two perhaps to a time before the Angles and Saxons emigrated to England. Gildas, the author of a Latin treatise on British history, is the precursor of the Anglo-Saxon writers, but the earliest author of real distinction is St. Columbanus, an Irish missionary to western Europe, who wrote religious treatises and Latin poetry, and died in 615.
Cædmon, a monk of Whitby, was the first Anglo-Saxon writer of eminence who composed in his native tongue. Encouraged by the Abbess Hilda, he wrote hisParaphrase, in which he discoursed of the Creation and the Fall, and other Biblical themes. His verse was constructed neither in measure nor rhyme, but it was differentiated from prose by a kind of rough poetic alliteration.
The most important Anglo-Saxon poem is that calledBeowulf, after its hero, extending to more than six thousand lines. This poem may be described as the heathen complement to Cædmon’s ChristianParaphrase. Beowulf is a Scandinavian prince, who slays a fiendish cannibal, after encountering supernatural perils, and is at last slain in a contest with a frightful dragon. Its scene appears to be laid entirely in Scandinavia. Its date is uncertain; parts of it may have been brought over at the emigration from Germany, though in its present form it is much later than this.
The next great name in the early literature is that of the Venerable Bede, who was born at Jarrow, and became the great monastic teacher of Wearmouth, dying in 735. He wrote numerous works in Latin, the chief of which was his famousEcclesiastical History of the Anglo-Saxons.
Alcuin, a native of northern England and an earnest student and teacher, became the chief intellectual light in the court of Charlemagne. John Scotus Erigena wrote, among other things, a work on theDivision of Nature, which is regarded as laying the foundation of the scholastic philosophy. King Alfred (901), great in arms and noble and enlightened in character, translated into Anglo-Saxon the histories of Bede[763]and Orosius, and Boethius’sConsolations of Philosophy. Other contributions to literature are likewise attributed to him. Ælfric, the grammarian, who died in 1006, wrote his eightyHomiliesfor the use of the common people.
The well-knownSaxon Chronicleis a survey of early English history, written by various authors. It began soon after the time of Alfred, and continued to the death of Stephen in 1154. Among its entries in verse is a spirited poem on the battle of Brunanburh, fought victoriously by Athelstan against his combined Danish and Celtic foes in 937. Besides the leading writers above cited, there were others of less importance who graced the Anglo-Saxon period—a period embracing some five hundred years from the time of Columbanus to the Norman Conquest.
New conditions were imported into the learning and literature of England by the Norman Conquest. Although the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, referred to above, was continued until 1154, the native language practically ceased for a time to be employed in literature. For nearly a century and a half the old language was supplanted, Latin being employed in law, history, and philosophy, French in the lighter forms of literature. Monastic chronicles were the order of the day, and these were only of real value as they drew near to, and actually dealt with, contemporary events. The Normantrouvèredisplaced the Saxonscop, or gleeman, introducing theFabliauand the Romance.
English literature was not greatly influenced by theFabliauuntil the time of Chaucer; but the Romance attained an early and striking development in the Arthurian cycle, founded upon the legends of Geoffrey of Monmouth, Bishop of St. Asaph, who wrote theHistory of British Kings.
Much of this Latin chronicle is imaginative. It began with a mythical Brutus of Troy, and ended with Cadwallader. King Arthur was a prominent figure in the book, and from this time the romantic legends concerning him and his court became a prominent feature in the Anglo-Norman literature. Geoffrey of Monmouth’sChroniclewas abridged by Alfred of Beverley, and rewritten in French verse by Geoffrey Gaimar and “Maistre†Wace, the latter version becoming permanent as theRoman de Brut. Wace, who died in 1184, was also the author of theRoman de Rou.
Walter Map or Mapes, poet and prose writer, gave form and substance to the Arthurian legends, uniting them into a harmonious whole as the spiritual allegory of the Holy Grail. Map attacked the abuses and corruptions of the Church in a series of witty and vigorous Latin poems. Hitherto there had been no man of such genius among the early writers.
Two of the most important of the monastic chroniclers were Ordericus Vitalis, who wrote theEcclesiastical History of England and Normandy, a conscientious if disorderly record, and William of Malmesbury, who flourished at the same time and wrote aHistory of English Kings. The latter writer has been placed by Milton next to Bede.
Early in the thirteenth century English began to recover its position, and Layamon’sBrutwas the first important piece of literature in transition English. Layamon, who was “a priest of Ernleye-upon-Severne,†wrote in English verse, and he interpolated many things into Wace’s narrative. His work was completed about 1205. A St. Augustine canon, named Ormin, was the author ofOrmulum, a metrical paraphrase, with expositions, of the Gospel of the day. To the same period belong the early ballads of the Robin Hood type and the rendering into English verse ofHavelok the Daneand other metrical romances.
Roger Bacon, the great scientific investigator, was a Franciscan who settled at Oxford. Bacon enshrined the results of his knowledge in hisOpus Majus,Opus Minus, andOpus Tertium. Robert of Gloucester was a monk in the time of Henry III. and Edward I. who wrote in English rhyme a chronicle from the siege of Troy to the death of Henry III.
Period of Chaucer.—The first great era of English literature may be said to begin about the year 1300, and to extend to the introduction of printing by Caxton in 1477. The overshadowing name in this period is that of Chaucer, who has been styled the Father of English Poetry.
The accounts of Chaucer’s early life are uncertain, but he acquired the favor of Edward III. through John of Gaunt. In the reign of Richard II., however, he fell upon evil times, and he died in the year 1400 at the age of seventy-two. HisCanterbury Talesare immortal, alike for their poetic qualities, their unrivaled delineations of character, and their pictures of the middle-class English life of the period. Although the poet was influenced in his style and choice of subject by Dante and Boccaccio, he infused into his creations a dramatic force and a breath of sympathy which are the characteristics of the highest genius. His earlier and minor poems—such asThe Romaunt of the Rose,The Court of Love, andThe House of Fame—were the fruit of his French and Italian studies. Hallam classes Chaucer with Dante and Petrarch in the mighty poetic triumvirate of the Middle Ages.
John Gower, next in contemporary importance to Chaucer, wrote theConfessio Amantis, an English poem, which included a number of tales that were moralized to illustrate the seven deadly sins.
Langlande, or Longlande, author ofThe Visions of Piers Plowman—a poem which stands out for its graphic force—“sought to animate men to the search for Christ, and battled vigorously with Church corruptions.†Langlande is more distinctly English in his language than Chaucer, and his poem was a representative one as showing the workings of the national mind in religion and politics.
James I. of Scotland takes high rank forThe King’s Quhair, and Lawrence Minot for his series of poems on the victories of Edward III. Barbour’s heroic poem of theBrucealso calls for mention. Thomas Occleve, author of a poem on the duty of kings, and John Lydgate, to whom we owe theFalls of Princes, and other compositions, were likewise considerable poets.
For a long period Sir John de Mandeville was regarded as “the father of English prose,†but this claim is now abandoned. The larger portion[764]of hisTravelswas borrowed from a worthy Friar Odoric and from other writers, while the whole narrative is more entertaining than veracious. John Wyclif, who gave to his countrymen the first English version of the whole Bible, has been not inaptly styled the “Morning Star of the English Reformation.†Sir John Fortescue, Chief Justice in the reign of Henry VI., was the author of a fine legal treatise,De Laudibus Legum Angliæ, and of an admirable constitutional work on theDifference Between Absolute and Limited Monarchy, in which he contrasted the French rule with the English to the disparagement of the former.