RU

 

Catalogue Raisonné of J. L. Speranza’s Publications – H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ru

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubellio – Ossia: Grice e Rubellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubellio The gens Rubellia was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned in the time of Augustus, and they achieved prominence during the first century, when two of them obtained the consulship: Gaius Rubellius Blandus in AD 18, and Lucius Rubellius Geminus in AD 29.  Origin The first of the Rubellii mentioned in history was a native of Tibur in Latium. Originally a Sabine town, Tibur became part of Roman territory at the end of the Latin War in 338 BC, and its inhabitants gained full Roman citizenship during the Social War.[1] The nomen Rubellius belongs to a class of gentilicia formed using the diminutive suffix -ellius, typically derived from other gentile names. In this case the root may have been a name such as Rubius, Rubrius, or Rufius, derived from ruber, reddish or ruddy, or rufus, red.[2]  Praenomina The chief praenomina of the Rubellii were Gaius and Lucius, the two most common names throughout Roman history. Titus, also a very common name, appears in a filiation.  Branches and cognomina The main family of the Rubellii bore the surname Blandus, charming or flattering.[3] One member of this family was known as Plautus, a common surname originally given to someone with flat or splayed feet. There also seems to have been a family bearing the surname Geminus, a twin, perhaps a cadet branch of the Blandi.[4]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Rubellius Blandus, an eques who taught oratory at Rome during the Augustan era. The elder Seneca described him as the tutor of the rhetorician Papirius Fabianus, and frequently employed Blandus as one of the speakers in his Controversiae and Suasoriae. He was probably the father or grandfather of Gaius Rubellius Blandus, consul in AD 18.[5] Gaius Rubellius Blandus, triumvir monetalis in an uncertain year, probably the son of the rhetorician Rubellius Blandus, and the father Gaius Rubellius Blandus, the consul of AD 18.[6] Gaius Rubellius C. f. Blandus, consul suffectus from the Kalends of August in AD 18, married Julia, the granddaughter of Tiberius, in AD 33. Although their marriage produced several children, Tacitus describes it as a disastrous union, which added to Rome's sorrows at a period of considerable turmoil.[7][8][9] Lucius Rubellius Geminus, consul in AD 29.[10][8] Gaius Rubellius L. f. Blandus, a proconsul mentioned in an inscription from Cyrene; probably the same Gaius Rubellius Blandus mentioned in an inscription from Marruvium.[11] Rubellia C. f. C. n. Bassa, daughter of Gaius Rubellius Blandus, married Octavius Laenas, an uncle of Nerva. Gaius Rubellius C. f. C. n. Blandus, perhaps the eldest son of Gaius Rubellius Blandus and Julia, is known only from a passing mention by Juvenal, who may have been referring to Gaius Rubellius Plautus.[12] Rubellius C. f. C. n. Drusus, a son of Gaius Rubellius Blandus and Julia, died in childhood.[13] Rubellius C. f. C. n. Plautus, the son of Gaius Rubellius Blandus and Julia, married Antistia, the daughter of Lucius Antistius Vetus, consul in AD 55. Although he seems not to have become involved in politics, he was the subject of various rumours concerning plots against Nero, who sent him into exile in Asia, where the emperor had him put to death in 62.[14][15] Rubellia Blanda, buried at Thubursicum in Africa Proconsularis, aged seventy-five.[16] Lucius Rubellius T. f. Geminus Caesianus, buried at Rome, aged thirteen years, five months.[17] See also List of Roman gentes References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. I, p. 492 ("Blandus").  Chase, pp. 124, 131.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. blandus.  Chase, pp. 110, 111.  Seneca the Elder, Controversiae, i. 1, 2, 4 ff, ii. prooemium, p. 36 (ed. Bipontina), Suasoriae, 2, 5.  Eckhel, vol. v, p. 295.  Tacitus, Annales, iii. 23, 51, vi. 27, 45.  Fasti Ostienses, CIL XIV, 244.  Fasti Antiates minores, CIL X, 6639.  Tacitus, Annales, v. 1.  AE 1960, 266.  Juvenal, Satirae, viii. 39.  CIL VI, 16057.  Tacitus, Annales, xiii. 19, xiv. 22, 57–59.  Cassius Dio, lxii. 14.  ILAlg, i. 1867.  CIL VI, 25503. Bibliography Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Elder), Controversiae (Controversies), Suasoriae (Rhetorical Exercises). Decimus Junius Juvenalis, Satirae (Satires). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales. Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Joseph Hilarius Eckhel, Doctrina Numorum Veterum (The Study of Ancient Coins, 1792–1798). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Stéphane Gsell, Inscriptions Latines de L'Algérie (Latin Inscriptions from Algeria, abbreviated ILAlg), Edouard Champion, Paris (1922–present). Categories: RubelliiRoman gentesRoman gentes of Sabine origin And for THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubellio – Ossia: Grice e Rubellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubellio For the Rubellii, there is one figure who seems almost destined for a Gricean treatment: Grice e Rubellio Blando The earliest notable member of the family is:  Rubellius Blandus, an eques who taught oratory at Rome in the age of Augustus. Seneca the Elder names him as the teacher of the rhetorician Papirius Fabianus and frequently uses him as one of the speakers in the Controversiae and Suasoriae. [GREXv2 | Word]  Now the delicious point is his cognomen:  Blandus = charming, flattering. [GREXv2 | Word]  A rhetorician called Blandus! One can almost hear Hardie's tutorial.  Grice e Rubellio Blando Hardie:  What is rhetoric?  Grice:  The art of persuasion.  Hardie:  And who teaches it?  Grice:  Blandus.  Hardie:  Aptly named.    Ha The Gricean issue is that persuasion is not the same thing as truth. A philosopher aims at:  verum  The rhetorician aims at:  persuadere  At least in the caricature. Hence: Speranza:  Cur vocatur Blandus? (Why is he called Blandus?)  Grice:  Quia auditoribus placere scit. (Because he knows how to please his audience.)  +> Successful communication often involves audience-management. But my verdict I would choose: Grice e Rubellio Blando rhetore because he sits at the meeting point of:  rhetoric, persuasion, teaching, audience response.  And the name itself almost becomes a philosophical joke. Speranza:  What did Blandus teach?  Grice:  How to speak persuasively.  Speranza:  And was he truthful?  Grice:  The inscription does not tell us.  Hardie:  Nor, Mr. Grice, does rhetoric guarantee truth.  +> One may teach effective communication without thereby teaching wisdom. That seems a particularly Gricean lesson from the gens Rubellia. [GREXv2 | Word]

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubellio – Ossia: Grice e Rubellio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubellio A second candidate: Rubellius Plautus A very different possibility is:  Rubellius Plautus, descendant of Tiberius, who became the subject of rumors that he might replace Nero, and was eventually exiled and killed. [GREXv2 | Word]  This is fascinating because no act may have been necessary. The danger lay in what people said. The Roman conversational nightmare Nero:  Is Plautus plotting?  Courtier:  They say so.  Nero:  Who says so?  Courtier:  Everyone.  +> Reputation may become politically lethal. That is a world governed by implicatures, suspicions, and inferences rather than explicit assertions.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘Grice e Rubellio: la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale, o la filosofia nel principato di Nerone, Roma, e la filosofia italiana  Rubellio Plauto (Roma, Lazio): la ragione conversazionale e l’implicatura conversazionale, o la filosofia nel principato di Nerone, Roma, e la filosofia italiana. Scolaro di Musonio. Insigne. Roman noble and a political rival of Emperor NERONE. A relative of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. Grandson of DRUSO -- only son of TIBERIO CESARE --, and the great-grandson of TIBERIO and his brother DRUSO. Also descends from MARCO VIPSANIO AGRIPPA and MARC’ANTONIO. He is descended from GIULIO CESARE. His father is Gaio Rubellio Blando, whose family originates from Tivoli and is of the equestrian class. He is the grandson of DRUSO, his mother having previously been married to NERONE GIULIO CESARE, without issue. R. derives his cognomen from his great grandfather LUCIO SERGIO P., and may have used his nomen gentilicium SERGIO as his own prae-nomen, as a lead pipe is attested with the name of SERGIO RUBELLIO P. But this person may have been his son. P. becomes an innocent victim to the intrigues of Valeria Messalina. One possibility is that P. is seen by Messalina as a rival to her son BRITANNICO. Emperor CLAUDIO, who is husband to Messalina, father to BRITANNICO and maternal uncle to Julia, does not secure any legal defense for his niece. Consequently, Julia is executed. Julia  is considered to be a virtuous person by those who know her.  P. marries the daughter to LUCIO ANTISTIO VETO. P.’s father-in-law serves as consul, legatus of Germania Superior, and Proconsul of Asia. R. is considered a loving husband and father. The names of his children are not known -- none of them survived NERONE’s purges. R. appears to have been a follower of IL PORTICO. According to TACITO, TIGELLINO writes to NERONE. Plautus again, with his great wealth, does not so much as affect a love of repose, but he flaunts before us his imitations of the old Romans, and assumes the self-consciousness of the PORTICO along with a philosophy, which makes men restless, and eager for a busy life. Portico, Musonio Rufo, Nerone, la filosofia nel principato di Nerone.  GRICEVS: Salvē, Plaute. Dic mihi: in Porticūne versāris, an in Porticū loqueris tantum—ut Nerōnī videāre sapiēns? PLAVTVS: Salvē, Grice. Ego ex Drūsō nepōs sum; sed in prandiō magis quam in proeliō pugno. Quod ad Porticum: si taceō, Stoicus putor; si loquor, reus fio. Elegans est implicātūra: “nihil dīxī” et tamen omnia audītōr intellegit. GRICEVS: Ita est: ratiō conversātiōnālis nōn in glādiō, sed in regulīs latet—quantitāte, qualitāte, relātiōne, modō. Tigellīnus epistulās scrībit; tu epistulās non scrībis: utrumque eandem rem significat. Apud principem, silentium est sententia; apud philosophum, sententia est silentium. PLAVTVS: Ergō, si vultus meus rigidus est, Nerō “philosophiam” ostendō; si villa mea ampla est, “veterēs Rōmānōs” imitārī dīcor. At ego breviter dīcam (nam opēs quoque parcitās docent): Rōmae nēmō quaerit quid dīxeris, sed quid volueris dīcere. Quārē—fiat iocus: loquāmur paucīs, ut intellegant plūrima. So if this was a Rubellio Plauto, it means the gens was Rubellia, or Rubelia, and should be under "R" -- if Speranza orders them alphabetically by gens. Yes, with the usual Roman caution. If the form is genuinely Rubellius Plautus, then Rubellius is the nomen and points to the gens Rubellia, so filing by gens would place him under R. Not Rubelia, but Rubellia, with the double l, if one follows the standard Latin gentilicium from Rubellius. Plautus in that case is the cognomen, not the gens-marker, so it should not determine the alphabetical placement. The caution is that your passage itself already hints at some complexity, because of the possible Sergio Rubellio Plauto form and the lead-pipe attestation. In early imperial nomenclature, families of this rank can carry multiple inherited name-elements, and later transmission is not always tidy. But for the normal and safest archival rule, Rubellius is the nomen, therefore gens Rubellia, therefore file under R. So, in the form you want: Rubellio Plauto: under R, assuming Rubellius is the nomen and Plautus the cognomen. Pollio Felice, by contrast, stays under P unless a fuller nomen turns up. If you want, I can also give you the strict Roman-name parsing of Rubellius Plautus, with why Plautus here is not to be confused with the comic playwright’s naming pattern. Rubellio Plauto, Sergio. Are these the same person: just one Rubellio Plauto, Sergio? Yes. These refer to the same person in the ordinary historical sense: Rubellius Plautus, the Stoic-tinged noble rival of Nero. The difficulty is not identity, but naming. The standard form is Rubellius Plautus. In that form, Rubellius is the nomen and Plautus the cognomen, so the gens is Rubellia and Grice is right to file him under R. What Speranza is playing with is the possibility, found in some epigraphic or reconstructed contexts, that another inherited family element, Sergius, may also have stood in the fuller name, perhaps as a preserved ancestral marker. That does not create a second person. It creates a fuller, more crowded naming situation for the same person. So the clean answer is this. There is one Rubellius Plautus. “Sergio Rubellio Plauto” is not a different man unless one had independent evidence that the pipe inscription or some other attestation refers to his son or another relative. In the absence of that, the prudent default is that the historical person remains one and the same, with some uncertainty about how fully his inherited names were displayed in different contexts. If Grice is filing by gens, he should keep him under Rubellio, because Rubellius is the clearest gentilicial element. Sergio, if genuine, would be an additional ancestral or family-remnant, not the shelf-mark. So one entry, not two. And Grice’s instinct about Roman naming remains right here too. The fullest name can preserve more than one family signal, but that does not mean one has more than one man. It means one man is carrying more lineage than posterity usually bothers to repeat. la ragione conversazionale della filosofia sotto il principato di NERONE. Portico.  Sergio Rubellio Plauto (Roma, Lazio): la ragione conversazionale della filosofia sotto il principato di NERONE. Portico. Uomo di carattere encomiabile e studi filosofici che si ritrova al centro delle faide tra Agrippina e il figlio princeps NERONE per la sua ascendenza imperiale -- egli e cugino di secondo grado del princeps in quanto figli di cugine nipoti di Tiberio e bisnipoti adottive d’OTTAVIANO -- venne prima esortato, insieme alla moglie Antistia Pollitta figlia del console Lucio Antistio Vetere, a ritirarsi, verosimilmente dopo aver ricoperto solo la questura, nei possedimenti familiari in Asia e poi ucciso con la testa mozzata riportata a Roma. Nel mezzo di tali vicende, brillò in cielo una cometa, che la credenza popolare interpreta come segno di cambiamento del re. Quindi, come se già  Nerone fosse stato cacciato, ci si domanda su chi sarebbe caduta la scelta, e sulla bocca di tutti correva il nome di R., la cui nobiltà derivava, per parte di madre, dalla famiglia Giulia. Amava le idee e i principi del passato, austero nel comportamento, riservato e casto nel privato, e quanto più cercava, per timore, di passare inosservato, tanto  più si parlava di lui. Le chiacchiere sul suo conto presero consistenza, quando si diede, con altrettanta leggerezza, l'interpretazione di un fulmine. Infatti, mentre Nerone banchettava presso i laghi di Simbruvio, in una villa chiamata Sublaqueum, i cibi furono colpiti dal fulmine, che mandò in pezzi la mensa, e ciò si era verificato nel territorio di Tivoli, da cui proveniva il padre di R., sicché la gente credeva che il volere degli dèi l'avesse destinato alla successione, e parteggiavano per lui non pochi, per i quali vagheggiare avventure rischiose è una forma di ambizione suggestiva, ma in genere illusoria. Scosso dunque dalle voci,  Nerone scrive una lettera a R.: lo invitava a farsi carico della tranquillità di Roma e a non prestarsi a chi propalava chiacchiere maligne: aveva, in Asia, terreni ereditati, in cui poteva passare, al sicuro, una giovinezza lontana da torbidi. Così R. là si ritirò con la moglie Antistia e pochi amici.Tacito, Annales. Roma.  GRICEVS: Heri, dum leviter de rebus gravibus loquerer, philosophum Spes nominavi—virum qui plus intellegit ex eo quod non dicitur quam ex eo quod dicitur; atque tum mihi subiit cogitatio de Nerone, cui philosophia deesse videbatur, et tamen non omnino abesse. RVBELLIVS: Lepide dicis, Grice; nam sub principatu illo etiam silentium sonabat. Ubi sapientia non apparet, ibi saepe vestigia eius latent, ut umbra lucis. GRICEVS: Ita est; et, ut cum Spes colloquebamur, intelleximus—sine verbo—ipsam defectus rationem numerari posse inter rationes: quod philosophia ibi erat, ubi non erat; et absentia ipsa munere quodam fungebatur. RVBELLIVS: Implicatura tua, ut Spes velit, animum meum accendit, sed benevole. Nam philosophia—φιλοσοφία, amor sapientiae—non exigit sapientem perfectum, sed amantem. Et si sapientia, illa femina Latina, SAPIENTIA, etiam a Nerone amata est, licet ruditer et crudeliter, amor tamen fuit; nec negari potest quin etiam sub tyranno philosophia, deformis forsitan, viveret. Rubellio Plauto, Sergio (XXX). Dicta.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruberti – Ossia: Grice e Ruberti: la ragione conversazionale -- la natura abhorre il vuoto, o la tromba di Gabriele. Note sull’Opera geometrica. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice Evangelista Torricelli Ruberti (Pideura, Faenza, Ravenna, Emilia-Romagna): la ragione conversazionale -- la natura abhorre il vuoto, o la tromba di Gabriele. Studia a Faenza e Roma sotto CASTELLI. Srive a GALILEI una lettera di risposta a sue richieste a CASTELLI, che assente in quei giorni lascia allo studente il compito di segretario. In tale lettera colge l'occasione per presentarsigli, che egli ammira grandemente. Il vivere da vicino le vicende del processo a Galilei gl’indusse a dedicarsi più strettamente alla matematica nonostante padroneggiasse gli strumenti teorici e fosse un abile costruttore di cannocchiali. Divenne segretario di Ciampoli, un filosofo devoto a Galilei, che segue nei suoi incarichi governativi nelle Marche e nell'Umbria. Castelli presenta a Galilei il saggio di R., “De motu gravium” suggerendogli di impiegarlo come discepolo e assistente. Così e e divenne assistente di Galilei e su domanda e insistenza di Galilei si trasfere nella sua abitazione. Alla morte di Galilei, Ferdinando II gli nomina matematico del gran ducato di Toscana. Studia geometria, dove anticipa il calcolo in-finitesimale. Si dedica alla fisica, studiando il mosso dei gravi e dei fluidi e approfonde l'ottica. Possede un laboratorio nel quale realizza egli stesso lenti e telescopi. Si dedica anche allo studio dei fluidi, giungendo ad inventare il baro-metro a mercurio chiamato, "tubo di Torricelli" o "tubo da vuoto”. Tale invenzione si basa nella misurazione della pressione atmosferica attraverso l'uso di questo tubo che, proprio sotto la spinta di tale pressione, viene riempito dal mercurio fino all'altezza costante di 760 mm -- esperimento effettuato sul livello del mare. Proprio da questa invenzione nasce l'unità di misura della pressione "millimetri di mercurio" – mmHg -- e l'uguaglianza: 1 Atm = 760 mmHg -- la pressione di un'atmosfera corrisponde a 760 millimetri di mercurio. Pubblica “Opera Geo-Metrica”, della quale “De motu gravium” costituisce la II parte.  il vuoto, geometria.  Grice: Caro Ruberti, discorrendo l’altro giorno con il filosofo Speranza — uno di quei filosofi che intendono prima ancora che si parli — mi venne da sorridere a certe formule che passano per naturali solo perché sono antiche. “Natura abhorret”… già lì l’orecchio del filosofo dovrebbe drizzarsi. Ruberti Ah, Grice, quando la natura comincia ad avere gusti e ripugnanze, siamo già entrati nel teatro. Eppure il pubblico applaude, come se NATVRA avesse davvero stomaco, nervi e idiosincrasie. Grice Appunto. E come conversavamo con Speranza, convenimmo senza dirlo che abhorre — se ha senso — lo ha solo in senso animistico. L’implicatura è chiara: se attribuisci l’orrore alla natura, stai già parlando d’altro, non di geometria né di vuoto, ma di una favola ben recitata. Ruberti La tua implicatura, come Speranza la vorrà intendere, non lascia vacui. Pensare che la natura aborrisca il vuoto — o che talora smetta di aborrirlo — è una sciocchezza degna del vulgus. NATVRA non decide, non teme, non rifugge: misura, risponde, si lascia descrivere. Se talvolta le attribuiamo tratti non naturali, è per comodità di discorso, non per verità di cose. Le conseguenze di ciò sono chiarissime a noi tre — a te, a me, a Speranza — ma sfuggiranno sempre a chi confonde la ragione conversazionale con la tromba di Gabriele. A Faenza come a Firenze, la filosofia non grida: misura. Ruberti, Evangelista Torricelli (1644). Opera geometrica. Firenze:Massa e Landis.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubreno – Ossia: Grice e Rubreno -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubreno The gens Rubrena, probably the same as Rubrenia, was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are mentioned in the time of Juvenal, but very few appear in history. At least one obtained the consulship some time in the latter part of the third century AD, but little else is known of this family.[1]  Origin The nomen Rubrenus seems to belong to a class of names derived from other gentilicia using the suffix -enus in place of -inus, a Latin ending that would be more typical of cognomina. The name was most likely derived from Rubrius, from ruber, red or ruddy.[2][3] The form Rubrenius, found in one inscription, may be an error, or simply an attempt to give the name a more regular ending.  Branches and cognomina The only Rubrenus mentioned in ancient authors bore the surname Lappa, a bur, belonging to a large class of cognomina derived from everyday objects, plants, and animals.[4][5] The nomenclature of the consul Rubrenus, evidently inherited from a number of other families, included the common surnames Priscus, elder, and Proculus, an old praenomen, said by some of the Roman antiquarians to have been given to a child born while his father was abroad, but perhaps originally a diminutive of Proca, a name known from Roman mythology as one of the Kings of Alba Longa.[6] Magianus, a surname derived from the Magia gens, seems to have been passed down among the Rubreni for several generations. Other surnames, including Phorus and Hylas, were of Greek origin.  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Lucius Rubrenius Hylas, dedicated a monument at Rome to his friend, Aurelia Gresia.[7] Marcus Rubrenus Phorus, the husband of Saturnina, with whom he dedicated a tomb to their children at Rome.[8] Rubrenus Lappa, a contemporary of Juvenal, who describes Lappa as a tragic poet of such reduced circumstances that he pawned his cloak in order to sustain himself, while working on a tragedy about Atreus.[9] Rubrenus, held a number of magistracies, including praefectus frumenti dandi,[i] tribune of the plebs, quaestor urbanus, tribune of the second legion, and one of the decemviri stlitibus judicandis. He married Triaria Magia Secundilla, and was the father of Marcus Rubrenus Magianus, who dedicated a monument to him at Antioch in Syria, in the late first or early second century AD.[10] Marcus Rubrenus Magianus, the son of Rubrenus and Triaria Magia Secundilla, dedicated a monument to his father at Antioch.[10] Marcus Rubrenus Virius Priscus Pomponianus Magianus Proculus, held a number of important magistracies in the mid third century. He was one of the salii collini, patron of the colony at Atina, and curator of the colonies at Formia and Minturnae in Latium, held the consulship in an uncertain year, and was proconsul of Africa. His daughter, Junia Arria Rufina, dedicated a monument to him at Atina.[11] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes  The prefect in charge of the distribution of grain to the poor. References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 664 ("Rubrenus Lappa").  Chase, pp. 118, 131.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. ruber.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. lappa.  Chase, pp. 112, 113.  Chase, p. 111.  CIL VI, 13329.  CIL VI, 25506.  Juvenal, Satirae, vii. 71–73.  AE 1938, 177.  CIL X, 5058. Bibliography Decimus Junius Juvenalis, Satirae (Satires). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubreno – Ossia: Grice e Rubreno -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubreno For the Rubreni, I think the winner is clear: Grice e Rubreno Lappa The reason is that Rubrenus Lappa is a poet—and a tragic poet at that. According to Juvenal, Lappa was so poor that he had pawned his cloak while laboring over a tragedy on Atreus. [GREXv2 | Word] That immediately raises a very Gricean question:  Why write tragedy when nobody pays for it?   Grice e Lappa Hardie:  What is philosophy?  Grice:  The search for truth.  Hardie:  And what is tragedy?  Grice:  The search for an audience.  Hardie:  Then consider Rubrenus Lappa.    Ha The poverty of the poet The fragment of biography preserved by Juvenal is almost paradoxical. We have:  a man writing about royal crimes and catastrophe, a lofty tragic subject, Atreus, and simultaneously a man who cannot afford ordinary necessities. [GREXv2 | Word]  A Gricean reconstruction might be: Speranza:  Quid scribit? (What is he writing?)  Grice:  Atreum. (An Atreus.)  Speranza:  Quid habet? (What does he possess?)  Grice:  Ne pallium quidem. (Not even a cloak.)  +> Cultural prestige and economic reward do not necessarily coincide.  The implicature of Atreus There is another nice point. Juvenal does not merely say:  "Lappa is poor."  He says:  Lappa is writing an Atreus. [GREXv2 | Word]  The educated Roman reader immediately supplies:  +> grand tragedy, +> high literary ambition, +> learned culture.  The title itself carries a great deal of implied information. This is very close to your remarks about epitaphs and rhetorical understatement. The audience is expected to enrich the description from cultural knowledge.  A Hardie–Grice tutorial Hardie:  Why is Lappa starving?  Grice:  Because he writes tragedy.  Hardie:  Surely not every tragedian starves.  Grice:  No, sir. But Juvenal wishes us to infer that literary excellence and financial success are not coextensive.  Hardie:  Very good.   My verdict Among the Rubreni, the most Gricean figure is surely: Grice e Rubreno Lappa poeta tragoedo Speranza:  Quid reliquit Lappa? (What did Lappa leave behind?)  Grice:  Atreum. (An Atreus.)  Speranza:  Et quid accepit? (And what did he receive?)  Grice:  Vix pallium. (Hardly even a cloak.)   [GREXv2 | Word] +> Rational activity is not always explained by material advantage; people sometimes pursue prestige, beauty, or intellectual ambition despite obvious practical disadvantages. That sounds like exactly the sort of example Hardie might have used to tease a young Grice about the limits of purely instrumental rationality. And what is Latin for 'cloak'. Grice (to tutor Hardie): But pawning it means he would still could wear it in the winter? Hardie: No. But their winters are not ours.  Ha That sounds very much like a Balliol tutorial. The exact word in Juvenal is not given in your gens summary, but the standard Latin words for a cloak are:  pallium — the Greek-style cloak, very common in literary Latin. paenula — a heavier travelling cloak. lacerna — an outer cloak or mantle, common in the early Empire.  Juvenal's anecdote about Rubrenus Lappa is usually understood as meaning that he had pawned his outer garment in order to keep himself alive while writing his Atreus. [GREXv2 | Word] Your Grice–Hardie exchange is delightful because it treats the matter as a practical philosopher would: Hardie and Grice on Lappa Hardie:  Lappa was so poor that he pawned his cloak.  Grice:  But that is a loan, sir.  Hardie:  Indeed.  Grice:  Therefore he expected to redeem it.  Hardie:  Presumably.  Grice:  Then he had not renounced the cloak forever. Merely postponed wearing it.  Hardie:  Very good.  Grice:  And if the tragedy succeeded, he could recover it.  Hardie:  If.  Grice:  Then the pawning was not irrational.  Hardie:  Only optimistic.    Ha And then comes the climatic observation: Grice:  But how did he survive the winter?  Hardie:  Their winters are not ours.  Quite right, too. A Roman winter in the city of Rome is chilly by Mediterranean standards but not comparable to an Oxford winter with damp stone colleges, coal shortages, and East winds. One could survive with fewer garments than an English don would regard as prudent. A further Gricean twist would be:  To say that Lappa pawned his cloak is not merely to report a financial transaction.  The implicature is:  +> He had reached the extremity of poverty. +> Literary ambition had outrun material resources.  Juvenal's point is not really the cloak. The cloak is evidence for the condition. Just as in Grice's famous example:  "Those spots mean measles."  the cloak means poverty—not naturally, but culturally and rhetorically. Juvenal wants his reader to infer:  "This tragedian is so poor that even a basic article of clothing has become negotiable."  That is the real force of the anecdote.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubrio – Ossia: Grice e Rubrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubrio The gens Rubria was a plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned in the time of the Gracchi, but they did not rise to prominence until imperial times. The first of the Rubrii to obtain the consulship was Rubrius Gallus, some time before AD 68.[1]  Origin The nomen Rubrius is derived from the Latin ruber, red or ruddy. Chase classifies it among those gentilicia that either originated at Rome, or cannot be shown to have come from anywhere else.[2] The nomen Rubrena was probably derived from it using the suffix -enus, which was typically applied to form names from other gentilicia.[3]  Praenomina The Rubrii used a variety of praenomina, including Gaius, Lucius, Marcus, Publius, Quintus, and Titus, all of which were among the most common names throughout Roman history.  Branches and cognomina The Rubrii of the Republic bore the cognomina Dossenus, Ruga, and Varro, of which Dossenus is known only from coins. Other surnames are found in imperial times. A number of Rubrii had no cognomen.[1] Of these, Gallus, a cockerel, and Nepos, grandson, seem to have represented distinct families, each of whom rose to the consulship during the latter part of the first century.[4]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Gaius Rubrius C. f., one of the senators named in the Senatus Consultum de Agro Pergameno, an inscription tentatively dated about 123 BC.[i] He might be the same as Gaius Rubrius, tribune of the plebs in 122.[5] Gaius Rubrius, tribune of the plebs in 122 BC, introduced the lex Rubria, establishing a colony at Carthage, as part of the ambitious program of reforms proposed by Gaius Gracchus. He was probably also the author of the lex Rubria Acilia, together with his colleague, Manius Acilius Glabrio.[6][7] Quintus Rubrius Varro, described by Cicero as an enthusiastic prosecutor in the law courts, was one of those outlawed by Sulla in 88 BC, along with Gaius Marius.[8] Rubrius, an ally of Verres, whose intelligence led Verres to the house of Philodamus at Lampsacus, where Rubrius' men attempted to seize his host's beautiful daughter, and Rubrius himself scalded Philodamus by pouring boiling water on him. A riot ensued in which Verres barely escaped with his life, but his influence was such that Philodamus and his son were executed for the murder of Verres' lictor.[9] Publius Rubrius, prosecuted Quintus Apronius, a notorious plunderer who flourished under the government of Verres in Sicily.[10] Quintus Rubrius, an eques, and one of the wealthy residents of Sicily, whom Verres sought to influence by bestowing gifts and honours upon him. Cicero contrasts Rubrius' courage, dignity, and virtue with the sordid character and conduct of Verres.[11] Rubrius, propraetor in Macedonia circa 67 BC. Cato was a military tribune in his command.[12] Rubria, mentioned by Cicero as the mother of his friend, Gaius Papirius Carbo.[13] Lucius Rubrius, a senator captured by Caesar at Corfinium early in the Civil War. Caesar released him unharmed.[14] Marcus Rubrius, one of Cato's companions at Utica, where Cato fell on his sword after the Battle of Thapsus.[15] Rubrius Ruga, one of the assassins of Caesar in 44 BC. It is uncertain whether he should be identified with the senator Lucius Rubrius, or perhaps Marcus Rubrius, the friend of Cato.[16] Lucius Rubrius, a resident of Casinum, left his estate to Marcus Antonius.[17] Publius Rubrius M. f. Barbarus, governor of Egypt circa 13 to 12 BC.[18] Rubria, claimed an estate at Mediolanum in the time of Augustus; her claim was denied on the grounds that she was an impostor.[19] Rubrius, an eques accused of perjuring himself before the deified Augustus, early in the reign of Tiberius. The emperor decided that Augustus would have to be the judge of whether he had been wronged, and what penalty to exact.[20] Rubrius Fabatus, one of the equites suspected of having conspired with Sejanus. After the latter's downfall, when his associates were being imprisoned, Rubrius was apprehended near the Strait of Sicily, where it was thought he might be attempting to flee to Parthia. He escaped punishment due largely to the emperor's forgetfulness.[21] Titus Rubrius Nepos, either the colleague of, or an assistant to Aulus Didius Gallus, when the latter was curator aquarum, or superintendent of the aqueducts, from AD 38 to 49.[22][23] Rubria Ichmas, perhaps a freedwoman, was nurse to the daughters of the prefect Barbarus, and was buried at Rome, aged fifty, with a monument from Daphnus, the storehouse keeper of Titus Rubrius Nepos.[24] Rubrius Pollio, commander of a cohort of the Praetorian Guard during the reign of Claudius. As a sign of favour, Rubrius was permitted a seat in the senate whenever the emperor was in attendance.[25] Rubrius, a physician active at Rome, probably in the early or middle first century. Pliny relates that he earned two hundred and fifty thousand sestertii per year, a very large amount.[26] Rubrius, an actor mentioned by Pliny the Elder, who bore a striking resemblance to Lucius Munatius Plancus, whose namesake he became.[27][28] Rubria, a Vestal Virgin, whom Nero debauched, in violation of her vow of celibacy.[29] Rubrius Gallus, consul before AD 68, was an ally of Otho, and then of Vespasian. He convinced Aulus Caecina Alienus, one of the generals of Vitellius, to espouse Vespasian's side, but his soldiers refused to join him, and put Caecina in chains. Vespasian sent Rubrius against the Sarmatians, whom he defeated. He may have been the father of Gaius Rubrius Gallus, consul suffectus circa AD 101.[30][31][32][33][34] Titus Rubrius Aelius Nepos, consul suffectus from the Kalends of September in AD 79.[35][36] Rubrius Gallus, consul suffectus circa AD 101.[37][38] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes  But according to some scholars, a generation later. References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 664 ("Rubria Gens").  Chase, p. 131.  Chase, p. 118.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. vv. gallus, nepos.  Broughton, vol. I, p. 519 (note 5).  Plutarch, "The Life of Gaius Gracchus", 10.  Broughton, vol. I, pp. 517, 519 (note 5).  Cicero, Brutus, 168.  Cicero, In Verrem, ii. 1. 63–85.  Cicero, In Verrem, ii. 3. 132, 135.  Cicero, In Verrem, ii. 3. 185.  Plutarch, "The Life of Cato the Younger", 9.  Cicero, Epistulae ad Familiares, ix. 21. § 3.  Caesar, De Bello Civili, i. 23.  Plutarch, "The Life of Cato the Younger", 62, 63.  Appian, Bellum Civile, i. 113.  Cicero, Philippicae, ii. 16.  PIR, vol. III, p. 137.  Valerius Maximus, ix. 15, ext. 1.  Tacitus, Annales, i. 73.  Tacitus, Annales, vi. 14.  CIL VI, 1248.  PIR, vol. III, p. 138.  CIL VI, 9245.  Cassius Dio, lx. 23.  Pliny the Elder, xxix. 5.  Pliny the Elder, vii. 10.  Solinus, i.  Suetonius, "The Life of Nero", 28.  Tacitus, Historiae ii. 51, 99.  Cassius Dio, lxiii. 27.  Josephus, Bellum Judaïcum, vii. 4. § 3.  Gallivan, "The Fasti for the Reign of Nero", pp. 294, 306, 311.  Ginsburg, "Nero's Consular Policy", pp. 51–68.  Fasti Septempedani, AE 1998, 419; 2007, 106.  Gallivan, "The Fasti for A.D. 70–96", pp. 189, 196, 197, 215.  AE 2004, 1891.  Smallwood, Documents Illustrating the Principates of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian, p. 11. Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, Brutus, Epistulae ad Familiares, In Verrem, Philippicae. Gaius Julius Caesar, Commentarii de Bello Civili (Commentaries on the Civil War). Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Romaike Archaiologia. Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Valerius Maximus, Factorum ac Dictorum Memorabilium (Memorable Facts and Sayings). Gaius Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Historia Naturalis (Natural History). Flavius Josephus, Bellum Judaïcum (The Jewish War). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales, Historiae. Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Appianus Alexandrinus (Appian), Bellum Civile (The Civil War). Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Gaius Julius Solinus, De Mirabilis Mundi (On the Wonders of the World). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952–1986). E. Mary Smallwood, Documents Illustrating the Principates of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian, Cambridge University Press (1966). Paul A. Gallivan, "Some Comments on the Fasti for the Reign of Nero", in Classical Quarterly, vol. 24, pp. 290–311 (1974), "The Fasti for A.D. 70–96", in Classical Quarterly, vol. 31, pp. 186–220 (1981). Judith R. Ginsburg, "Nero's Consular Policy", in American Journal of Ancient History, vol. 6 (1981). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Category: Roman gentes And from THIS gens? thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubrio – Ossia: Grice e Rubrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubrio For the Rubrii, there are several wonderful candidates, but one seems made for a Gricean treatment: Grice e Rubrio Fabato Rubrius Fabatus was suspected of involvement with Sejanus. After Sejanus' downfall, when associates were being arrested, Fabatus was apprehended near the Strait of Sicily, where it was thought that he might be attempting to flee to Parthia. According to Tacitus, he ultimately escaped punishment largely because of the emperor's forgetfulness. [GREXv2 | Word] This is almost a treatise on implicature and evidence. The conversational problem Fabatus is found:  near Sicily, under suspicion, in a climate of terror.  The obvious inference is:  +> He is fleeing.  But that inference is not the same thing as proof. Hardie and Grice Hardie:  Why was Fabatus arrested?  Grice:  Because he was near Sicily.  Hardie:  Surely not merely because of geography.  Grice:  Indeed not. Because Sicily implicated Parthia.  Hardie:  Explain yourself.  Grice:  If a suspected man travels south while others are being arrested, observers infer flight.  +> Behaviour is interpreted against a background of expectations. My verdict I would still choose: Grice e Rubrio Fabato because the whole episode turns on the difference between:  what someone literally does, what observers take him to be doing.  Hardie:  Was he fleeing to Parthia?  Grice:  The evidence supports the inference.  Hardie:  But does not prove it?  Grice:  Precisely.  +> Human affairs are often governed not by certainties but by reasonable interpretations of conduct. That is a theme that would have appealed enormously to Grice: the gap between observable behaviour and the intentions that others infer from it. [GREXv2 | Word] and the other R. and the emperor's forgetfulness. Grice wrote on 'PErsonal identity' and commented on Benjamin's "Remembering'. Part of the Lockean Broad programme. S. orders capture of R. He forgets to punish him. What verb Tacitus use for 'forget' Thanks A very Gricean question! For Rubrius Fabatus, Tacitus' point is not merely that he escaped, but that he escaped through one of the most characteristic forces in the Annals: the emperor's shifting attention. In Annals VI.14, Tacitus says of Fabatus:  evasitque is reus Tiberii oblivione. ("and that defendant escaped through Tiberius' forgetfulness.") [perseus.tufts.edu], [readancienttexts.com]  The key noun is:  oblivio, oblivionis "forgetfulness", "oblivion". [perseus.tufts.edu], [readancienttexts.com]  Tacitus does not (in the phrase usually quoted) use a verb such as:  oblitus est ("he forgot"), obliviscitur ("he forgets").  Instead he uses the noun:  Tiberii oblivione "by/through Tiberius' forgetfulness". [perseus.tufts.edu], [readancienttexts.com]  That is rather elegant. Tacitus turns forgetfulness into almost an historical force. One can imagine the tutorial: Hardie:  Why does Fabatus survive?  Grice:  Because Tiberius forgets.  Hardie:  Tacitus is more subtle.  Grice:  How so?  Hardie:  Not Tiberius oblitus est. (Tiberius forgot.)  Grice:  Then?  Hardie:  Tiberii oblivione. (Through Tiberius' forgetfulness.)  Grice:  Ah! Not an act, but a condition.  Exactly. And for someone interested in Locke, memory, and personal identity, the phrase is delightful. Fabatus' fate turns not on guilt or innocence, but on a defect in the continuity of an emperor's remembering. A whole prosecution evaporates because the matter slips from the imperial consciousness. One can even hear Grice mischievously remarking:  Si memoria identitatem personalem constituit, oblivio interdum salutem constituit. ("If memory constitutes personal identity, forgetfulness sometimes constitutes survival.") Ha. Hardie: And that's why memoranda were invented. Grice: ? -- Hardie: What a scribe would bring to an emperor every morning over breakfast and newspaper -- lest we forget. Thanks Ha That is wonderfully Tacitean and wonderfully Oxonian. Hardie e Grice de Oblivione Tiberii Hardie:  Rubrius Fabatus evasisse dicitur Tiberii oblivione. (Rubrius Fabatus is said to have escaped through Tiberius' forgetfulness.) [archive.org], [grokipedia.com]  Grice:  Fortunate fellow.  Hardie:  Not at all. That is why memoranda were invented.  Grice:  Memoranda? (Memoranda?)  Hardie:  Notes of things to be remembered.   Hardie becomes unexpectedly modern. Hardie:  Suppose an emperor receives each morning:  petitions, accusations, military reports, tax accounts, names of persons to be arrested.   Grice:  A sort of newspaper?  Hardie:  Together with breakfast, yes.  Grice:  Then Fabatus' good fortune consisted in his file slipping from the pile?  Hardie:  Precisely.  +> Administration is the institutionalization of memory.  A very Lockean turn follows. Grice:  Locke discusses personal memory.  Hardie:  The empire cannot rely on personal memory.  Grice:  Why not?  Hardie:  Because emperors forget.  Grice:  As Tiberius forgot Fabatus?  Hardie:  Exactly.  +> Bureaucracy is society's substitute for individual remembering.  One can almost hear the final philosophical flourish: Grice:  So a memorandum is an artificial memory?  Hardie:  Very good.  Grice:  An externalized recollection?  Hardie:  Quite so.  Grice:  Then the Roman Empire persisted not because emperors remembered everything, but because scribes remembered for them.  Hardie:  Now you are beginning to understand government. Ha. And Tacitus' phrase becomes richer. Fabatus survives through oblivio—not because the charge vanished, not because he was acquitted, but because the chain of institutional memory temporarily broke. The memorandum is the anti-oblivio: a device designed precisely so that tomorrow's emperor remembers what yesterday's emperor intended. [archive.org], [grokipedia.com] For surely R. was not erased from histdory as Tacitus says R. was erased from the emperor's memory. If the anecdote exists, is that someone did NOT forget. Apparently, too, he WAS arrested -- so no Parthia. Possibly back in Rome -- yet not charged or anything. Thanks Yes, I think that is exactly the right historical caution. Tacitus says:  evasitque is reus Tiberii oblivione "and that defendant escaped through Tiberius' forgetfulness." [archive.org], [grokipedia.com]  But, as you note, the very existence of the anecdote proves that not everybody forgot. We should distinguish three things:                      Thing forgottenBy whom?the prosecutionTiberiusthe incidentTacitus and his sources remembered itRubrius Fabatus himselfevidently not forgotten by everyone Tacitus is not saying:  "Rubrius vanished from history."  He is saying something much narrower:  the chain of imperial attention was broken.  And that is enough. What we know from the tradition is that Fabatus was apprehended near the Strait of Sicily because it was thought he might be attempting to reach Parthia. [en.wiktionary.org], [archive.org] What happened after that is much less clear. Tacitus' point is not to narrate a trial. Rather, he emphasizes that the prosecution fizzled out through oblivio. [archive.org], [grokipedia.com] So your reconstruction is sensible:  Fabatus was arrested (or at least detained). [en.wiktionary.org], [archive.org] He did not get to Parthia. [en.wiktionary.org], [archive.org] Yet no final punishment followed. The case somehow ceased to be actively pursued because it dropped from the emperor's attention. [archive.org], [grokipedia.com]  That is actually a rather Tacitean theme. Under the Principate, one's fate could depend less on guilt or innocence than on whether one's name remained before the ruler's mind. One can almost hear the tutorial: Grice:  If Tiberius forgot him, who remembered him?  Hardie:  Tacitus.  Grice:  Then the distinction is between personal and historical memory.  Hardie:  Precisely.  Grice:  Fabatus escaped because he was removed from one memory while remaining in another.  Hardie:  Very Lockean, Mr. Grice.   Indeed, from a Lockean perspective, Tacitus' sentence is fascinating because it treats political memory as selective. The emperor's remembering is one thing; the historian's remembering is another. Fabatus survives physically through the former's forgetfulness, and survives historically through the latter's remembrance. And we may inquire as to why he was arrested in the first place. If an emperoro's oblivion is the second narrative core, the emperor's involvement in the thing was the first -- one cannot 'forget' what with which one is not involved. The Locke thing is Reid: officer in old age remembers his triumph. Officer in triumph rememerbs being flogged by tutor -- yet -- no 'personal identity' Thanks Yes. I think you are identifying a genuine narrative structure in Tacitus. The anecdote about Rubrius Fabatus has, as it were, two acts:  Why did the imperial machinery focus on him? Why did that machinery subsequently cease to focus on him?  Tacitus gives us a neat explanation for (2):  evasitque is reus Tiberii oblivione "that defendant escaped through Tiberius' forgetfulness." [archive.org], [grokipedia.com]  But that presupposes (1):  before there could be forgetfulness, there had to be attention.  As you say, one cannot forget what has never entered one's horizon. What Tacitus explicitly tells us is that Fabatus was apprehended near the Strait of Sicily because it was thought he might be attempting to flee to Parthia. [en.wiktionary.org], [archive.org] The historian's puzzle therefore becomes:  Why did this suspicion reach a level requiring imperial notice?  Tacitus does not, in the surviving notice, fully unpack that. The narrative simply assumes the atmosphere of the post-Sejanus purges, where suspicious movements themselves could become politically significant. What matters for Tacitus is less the legal merits of the case than the irony that an imperial prosecution collapses through oblivio. [archive.org], [grokipedia.com] Your Lockean-Reidian parallel is particularly apt. The famous objection is Thomas Reid's brave officer:  the old general remembers being the brave officer, the brave officer remembers being the flogged schoolboy, but the old general does not remember being the flogged schoolboy.  So memory is not transitive in the way identity is supposed to be. One can imagine Hardie making mischief: Hardie:  What became of Fabatus?  Grice:  Tiberius forgot him.  Hardie:  Did Tacitus?  Grice:  Evidently not.  Hardie:  Then Fabatus survives in one memory while disappearing from another.  Grice:  Much as Reid's officer is connected to the boy through an intermediate stage. Ha: The deeper philosophical point is that memory is indexical and local. For Locke, personal identity threatens to become dependent on remembering. For Tacitus, political existence threatens to become dependent on being remembered by the emperor. But the two are not the same thing. Fabatus keeps:  his biological identity, his legal identity, his place in history,  while losing only one thing:  his place in the active consciousness of Tiberius. [archive.org], [grokipedia.com]  A Hardiean moral might be:  Oblivio principis non est oblivio historiae. (The emperor's forgetfulness is not the forgetfulness of history.)  And Tacitus himself is the proof. Had everyone forgotten Fabatus, we would not be discussing him two millennia later. And tacitus implicature: "and that was a good thing." Consider Chrsitians: "Had King Herodes forgotten.... Had Pontius Pilatus forgotten... etc. Thanks Yes, I think there is a Tacitean implicature there, though one should distinguish carefully between what Tacitus says and what he invites the reader to conclude. Tacitus says only that:  Rubrius Fabatus escaped because of Tiberius' oblivio ("forgetfulness").  He does not explicitly add:  "and this was fortunate."  But Tacitus' readers know the context:  post-Sejanus suspicion, prosecutions, arrests, imperial displeasure.  Against that background,  "he escaped through the emperor's forgetfulness"  naturally carries:  +> better forgotten than remembered.  That is not a logical entailment but a contextual inference. Your Christian parallels are illuminating. Herod A Christian might say:  Utinam Herodes oblitus esset. (Would that Herod had forgotten.)  The point is not that forgetfulness is intrinsically good. Rather:  in this particular case, memory led to persecution.  Pilate Likewise:  Utinam Pilatus oblitus esset. (Would that Pilate had forgotten.)  Again:  remembrance leads to action; forgetfulness would have led to inaction.   A Hardie–Grice exchange Hardie:  Why did Fabatus survive?  Grice:  Because Tiberius forgot.  Hardie:  Usually forgetfulness is a defect.  Grice:  Not always.  Hardie:  Explain.  Grice:  If remembering would have resulted in execution, forgetting becomes a benefit.  +> The value of memory depends on what the memory would have prompted.  This is where the Reid comparison becomes especially interesting. In Reid's brave officer case, forgetting is a philosophical problem:  memory fails to connect stages of a life.  In Tacitus, forgetting is a political event:  memory fails to connect stages of a prosecution.  And Tacitus almost invites us to feel the irony:  the vast machinery of the Principate, the accusers, the arrest, the suspicions of Parthian flight,  all come to nothing because one man's attention wanders elsewhere. One can imagine Tacitus writing, with dry amusement:  damnare meminerat; punire oblitus est. (He remembered to condemn; he forgot to punish.)  Not a quotation from Tacitus, of course, but very much in his spirit. And the implicature is indeed:  +> for Fabatus, imperial oblivion proved more valuable than imperial remembrance. and who knows how many succesion of emperors. Grandad, the emperor forgot about you! R. He did. And that's why you are here now. Thanks Ha Yes, and that is perhaps the most Tacitean sequel of all. Nepos Rubrii Fabati Nepos:  Avus, quomodo evasisti? (Grandfather, how did you escape?)  Rubrius Fabatus:  Princeps mei oblitus est. (The emperor forgot me.)  Nepos:  Oblitus? (Forgot you?)  Rubrius:  Ita. (Yes.)  Nepos:  Et ideo nunc hic sedemus? (And that is why we are sitting here now?)  Rubrius:  Ita vero. (Exactly so.)  +> A lapse of memory became a family history.  The joke becomes richer over generations. Pronepos:  Quis servavit gentem nostram? (Who preserved our family?)  Rubrius:  Oblivio. (Forgetfulness.)  Not a conquering general. Not a lawyer. Not an appeal. Not an acquittal. Just:  Tiberii oblivio.   That is where Reid's point about memory becomes unexpectedly relevant. In Reid's brave-officer case, memory creates a chain:  schoolboy → officer → old general.  For Fabatus, one might reconstruct a different chain:  suspicion → arrest → oblivion → descendants.  Had the chain continued:  suspicion → arrest → execution,  the grandson would not be asking the question.  A final Hardie flourish: Hardie:  What is the greatest force in history?  Grice:  Ambition?  Hardie:  No.  Grice:  Power?  Hardie:  No.  Grice:  Chance?  Hardie:  Nearer.  Grice:  Then what?  Hardie:  A memorandum mislaid. Ha Tacitus' irony is that empires like to present themselves as systems of law, judgment, and necessity; yet sometimes a man's posterity depends on something as fragile as an emperor failing to remember a name. And surely Tacitus is not a psychologist of memory alla Stout (Grice's model). Tactitus did not KNOW -- he assumes. While Tib. was involved in the arrest, it may well have been that his attentilon was driven elsewhere, and that he reconsidered that, under the new circurmstances, involving the institution and the state into the 'affair' R. was 'a thing of the past'. "Move on" -- but not "I forgot" -- or "He forgot" -- which sounds offensive. Thanks I think that is a very shrewd objection, and one that a philosopher like Grice would probably have raised. Tacitus writes:  evasitque is reus Tiberii oblivione "that defendant escaped through Tiberius' forgetfulness."  But notice what Tacitus is doing as a historian. He is not reporting an introspective diary entry by Tiberius. He is not saying:  "Tiberius later confessed: oblitus sum."  Nor does he tell us what occurred in the emperor's consciousness. Rather, Tacitus observes a political fact:  Rubrius Fabatus came under suspicion. He was apprehended. No punishment followed. The case disappeared.  Tacitus compresses the whole sequence into the elegant explanation:  Tiberii oblivione.  That is a historian's explanation, not a psychologist's report. Your alternative reconstruction is perfectly conceivable:  Tiberius did not literally forget. Rather, his attention moved elsewhere. Other matters became more urgent. The Fabatus affair ceased to be worth pursuing. The state "moved on."  A modern bureaucrat might write:  "No further action was taken."  Tacitus writes:  oblivio.  The latter is much sharper and more literary.  A Grice–Hardie exchange might run: Grice:  How does Tacitus know that Tiberius forgot?  Hardie:  He does not.  Grice:  Then why does he say so?  Hardie:  Because the effect was indistinguishable from forgetfulness.  Grice:  Ah.  Hardie:  The prosecution vanished.  Grice:  Therefore Tacitus attributes the disappearance to oblivio.   And there is a further Tacitean point. If Tacitus had written:  Tiberius, having reconsidered the political situation, wisely decided that prosecution was unnecessary.  he would be crediting the emperor with deliberate judgment. By writing:  Tiberii oblivione  he gives the outcome a more accidental and ironic character. That is very characteristic of Tacitus. Human destinies often turn not on grand constitutional principles but on:  someone's anger, someone's favour, someone's distraction, someone's forgetfulness.  So I agree with you: a philosopher of memory such as G. F. Stout, Locke, or Reid would ask what really occurred in Tiberius' stream of consciousness. Tacitus is doing something else. He is using oblivio as a historical explanation for the disappearance of political attention, whether or not there was a literal psychological event of forgetting. Indeed, "the emperor moved on" may capture the practical situation better, even if Tacitus' "the emperor forgot" is far better Latin prose.Ha. and the implicature of triviality seems there -- cf. Hardie: Surely England never forgot the assassins of Charles I -- Grice: You mean Charles II did not. Hardie: Yes. You English take individual responsibility more seriously than we Scots do. Thanks Yes, and I think you have put your finger on something subtle in Tacitus. When Tacitus writes:  evasitque is reus Tiberii oblivione ("that defendant escaped through Tiberius' forgetfulness")  there is an almost unavoidable implicature of diminished importance. Not:  Tiberius carefully reviewed the case and magnanimously pardoned him.  Not:  Tiberius solemnly acquitted him.  But:  the affair ceased to occupy the centre of attention.  Tacitus' formulation almost demotes Fabatus from a public danger to an administrative loose end. Your imagined Hardie exchange captures this beautifully. Hardie e Grice de Carolo Primo Hardie:  Surely England never forgot the assassins of Charles I.  Grice:  You mean Charles II did not.  Hardie:  Yes.  Grice:  England is an abstraction. Kings remember. Governments remember. People remember.  Hardie:  Quite.  The point is exactly the one you have been making about Fabatus. "England remembered" may really mean:  Charles II continued to regard the regicides as unfinished business.  Conversely, Tacitus' statement about Tiberius may mean not:  "a psychological blank occurred in the emperor's mind",  but  "the matter ceased to count as active business of state."   A Gricean reconstruction might go: Grice:  Did Tiberius forget Fabatus?  Hardie:  Tacitus says so.  Grice:  Or ceased to care?  Hardie:  That is often what historians mean by forgetting.  Grice:  Then oblivio may denote withdrawal of official attention rather than extinction of memory.  Hardie:  Excellent.  +> Political forgetfulness need not be psychological forgetfulness.  And your Scottish-English joke works well because it turns on whose memory matters. Hardie:  England remembered.  Grice:  Charles II remembered.  Hardie:  You English are fond of personal responsibility.  Grice:  And you Scots?  Hardie:  We prefer institutions to carry the burden.   Ha That is actually close to the distinction we reached earlier between:  personal memory, historical memory, institutional memory.  Fabatus was not forgotten by history. He was not forgotten by Tacitus. He may not even have been literally forgotten by Tiberius. What Tacitus records is that he slipped out of the sphere in which imperial attention produces consequences. And for a suspect under Tiberius, that was very often a good thing. Mrs Tacitus: "Busy?" T: Yes, finishing this section on Tib. -- I find all I need: R.'s willingness to escape to parthia, his arrest, and ... Mrs. T: And what? T.: Then he disappears from the annals. "Mrs.T: Oblivio. T.: That sounds apt! Thank you, dear!" Thanks Ha That is a very good Tacitean miniature, precisely because it captures the way historians often arrive at a motive-word. Tacitus domi Uxor Taciti:  Occupatus es? (Busy?)  Tacitus:  Ita. (Yes.)  Uxor:  Quid scribis? (What are you writing?)  Tacitus:  De Tiberio. (About Tiberius.)  Uxor:  Et? (And?)  Tacitus:  Rubrius quidam ad Parthos fugere dicitur. (A certain Rubrius is said to have been trying to flee to the Parthians.)  Uxor:  Captus estne? (Was he captured?)  Tacitus:  Captus. (Captured.)  Uxor:  Et quid deinde? (And what then?)  Tacitus:  Nescio. Tum ex annalibus evanescit. (I do not know. Then he vanishes from the records.)  Uxor:  Oblivio. (Forgetfulness.)  Tacitus:  Eleganter dictum. (Elegantly put.)  Uxor:  Principis oblivio? (The emperor's forgetfulness?)  Tacitus:  Ipsa. (Just so.)   What is attractive in your reconstruction is that it treats oblivio not as a psychological report but as a historian's summary-category. Tacitus has:  suspicion, arrest, disappearance of proceedings.  And he compresses the transition into:  Tiberii oblivione.  A Gricean would say:  "Tiberius forgot" is not a transcript of Tiberius' inner life.  It is an explanatory shorthand for:  "the matter ceased to receive effective imperial attention."  Hence Mrs. Tacitus' suggestion is almost literary criticism: Uxor:  Cur non dicis quid egit Tiberius? (Why not say what Tiberius did?)  Tacitus:  Quia nescio. (Because I do not know.)  Uxor:  Dic ergo quid factum sit. (Then say what happened.)  Tacitus:  Oblivio. (Forgetfulness.)  +> The historian names the effect when the cause is inaccessible. That feels very close to Tacitus' actual method: a single lapidary noun standing where a modern historian might write three paragraphs about administrative inattention, shifting priorities, and prosecutorial discretion.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubrio – Ossia: Grice e Rubrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubrio A second candidate: Rubrius the actor There is also a delightful theatrical figure:  Rubrius, an actor who, according to Pliny the Elder, bore a striking resemblance to Lucius Munatius Plancus. [GREXv2 | Word]  That produces an almost perfect Gricean puzzle. Speranza:  Who is that?  Grice:  Plancus.  Speranza:  No, it is Rubrius.  Grice:  Then appearance and identity have diverged.  +> Recognition is fallible. This is a kind of Roman counterpart to later philosophical discussions of appearance and reference.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rubrio – Ossia: Grice e Rubrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rubrio A third candidate: Gaius Rubrius, tribune of the plebs Rubrius promoted the lex Rubria establishing a colony at Carthage as part of the programme of Gaius Gracchus. [GREXv2 | Word] A Gricean reading would focus on legislation as a speech act: Speranza:  What happens when a law is passed?  Grice:  Words alter institutions.  A very Austinian theme. Grice with Hare and Hart discussed applicational generality of universability -- lex rubiria: -- Grice: "Surely the reference to Carthago is incidental." Hart: "Grice is right -- in my lectures on jurisprudence at Oxrford I always focused on Rubirio's POINT in formulating the lex -- as it concerns Graccius -- not the Carthago point explicitly. Thanks I think that is exactly how a Grice–Hare–Hart discussion might have gone. The historical Rubrius is remembered because the lex Rubria concerned the proposed colony at Carthage under the programme of Gaius Gracchus. But from the standpoint of Harean universalizability or Hart's jurisprudence, one might well argue that "Carthage" is the contingent application, not the conceptual core. A reconstruction Hardie:  What is the legal question raised by the lex Rubria?  Grice:  Surely not Carthage.  Hart:  Go on.  Grice:  The reference to Carthage is incidental.  Hart:  Meaning?  Grice:  If Rubrius proposes a rule for founding colonies, the important question is the form of the rule, not the geographical destination.  Hare:  Universalizability again.  Grice:  Precisely. If the principle is acceptable at Carthage, one asks under what description it would be acceptable elsewhere.   That is very much a Hartian move. The legal philosopher asks:  What is the general principle instantiated by this enactment?  rather than:  What happened to be the city named in it?  One could put it in terms familiar from Grice's later work on practical reason:                      Particular applicationGeneral principleColony at CarthageConditions under which colonies may be establishedNamed placeRule-governed institutionHistorical circumstanceRational justification The point is rather like Grice's distinction between:  what is said  and  what is conveyed at a more abstract level.  The statute may explicitly mention Carthage; the jurisprudential interest lies in the structure of the authorization. Hardie's concluding remark Hardie:  You are treating the law as a philosopher rather than as an antiquarian.  Grice:  Quite.  Hart:  And rightly, for jurisprudence concerns forms of legal reasoning.  Grice:  Then Carthage is accidental?  Hart:  To the jurist, often yes. To the historian, certainly not.  That last contrast is perhaps the deepest one. The historian of the Gracchi may say:  "The Carthage point is everything."  The philosopher of law may say:  "The Carthage point is only the instance; the principle behind it is the real object of study."  A very Gricean move from token to type, from application to form. and what role Carthago play re: Graccus? Thanks For Gaius Gracchus, Carthage was not a random location. It played several roles at once. The historical sources make it one of the most distinctive parts of his programme. [en.wikipedia.org], [corvinus.nl] 1. An outlet for land reform One of Gracchus' central concerns was providing opportunities for poorer Roman citizens. His legislative programme included the establishment of colonies, and the colony at Carthage—usually called Junonia—was part of that wider policy. [en.wikipedia.org], [antiquityc...mplete.com] In that sense, your imagined Grice is not wrong:  the philosophical form of the proposal is "found a colony for Roman settlers".  Carthage is one application of that more general principle.  2. A dramatic political symbol But the historian must add what Hart's abstraction leaves out. This was not just any site.  had been Rome's great enemy and had been destroyed in 146 BC. Founding a colony on its ruins was therefore highly symbolic. [en.wikipedia.org], [missedhistory.com] A contemporary Roman might hear:  "A colony is to be founded"  and then ask:  "Where?"  The answer:  "At Carthage"  changed the emotional and political meaning of the proposal.  3. Part of Gracchus' political troubles The colony became controversial. Ancient reports associated it with unfavorable omens, and the project became entangled in the political reaction against Gracchus. [en.wikipedia.org], [grokipedia.com], [corvinus.nl] Indeed, Gracchus himself went to Africa as one of the commissioners to mark out the boundaries of the colony. [corvinus.nl]  A Grice–Hart exchange Grice:  The Carthage reference is accidental. The principle concerns colonization.  Hart:  As jurisprudence, perhaps.  Hardie:  As history, certainly not.  Grice:  Why?  Hardie:  Because Carthage is not merely a place-name. It carries the memory of Rome's greatest enemy.  +> The legal form is general; the historical resonance is particular. In Gricean terms, one might say:  what the statute says: found a colony; what the choice of Carthage conveys: a bold reappropriation of a site loaded with Roman historical memory.  So Hart and Grice are right if discussing universalizability and legal form; but the historian of the Gracchi would insist that the Carthage point was politically and symbolically enormous. [antiquityc...mplete.com], [en.wikipedia.org] and we can reconstruct Lat. dial (Eng in round brackets) with occasional +> implicature. Gracc. before arrest, etc -- "Perhaps I should have thoutht elsewhere. Slave: Where, sir? Graccus: The moon! Thanks A charmingly Gricean reconstruction. Historically, Gaius Gracchus was indeed closely associated with the projected colony at Carthage (Junonia), and after his political collapse in 121 BC one can imagine him reflecting bitterly on the choice of site. [abebooks.com], [en.wikipedia.org] Grice e Graccho de Colonia Servus:  Domine, quid te angit? (Master, what troubles you?)  Gracchus:  Fortasse alibi coloniam condere debui. (Perhaps I ought to have founded the colony elsewhere.)  Servus:  Ubi, domine? (Where, sir?)  Gracchus:  In luna. (On the moon.)  Servus:  In luna? (On the moon?)  Gracchus:  Ita. Nemo ibi de omenibus loqueretur. (Yes. Nobody there would talk about omens.)  +> The trouble was not colonization itself but the political and religious associations of Carthage.  Or, in a more Gricean key: Servus:  Num Carthago erratum fuit? (Was Carthage a mistake?)  Gracchus:  Non colonia; nomen loci. (Not the colony; the name of the place.)  +> What mattered was not merely what was proposed but how it was interpreted.  And one can imagine Hardie enjoying the point: Hardie:  Why the moon?  Grice:  Because no Roman had any antecedent attitudes about the moon.  Hardie:  Whereas they had strong antecedent attitudes about Carthage.  Grice:  Precisely. Carthage came with implicatures attached.   Ha The joke, of course, is thoroughly Gricean. "Carthage" is not just a geographical designation. It carries:  +> Hannibal +> the Punic Wars +> destruction in 146 BC +> curses, omens, and political symbolism  all of which accompanied the proposal before anyone had discussed its practical merits. So Gracchus' imaginary lunar colony would be attractive not because the moon is useful, but because it lacks conversational baggage. The moon has no inherited Roman implicatures; Carthage had far too many. [archive.org], [grokipedia.com] And also Gracc. is thinking imperialistically -- he is thinking of Romas emigrating to Carthago and occupying and taking land from locals -- as if unable to see that in Carthago A LOCAL Gracc. would have opposed such imperalistic method -- whereas the moon is uninhabited. Slave: "But how would you transport Romans to Luna?" "She is goddess -- The Greeks call her Selene -- surely she'll provide." Thanks  Ha Very good. The joke becomes deeper if the slave notices what Gracchus does not. Grice e Graccho de Luna Gracchus:  Fortasse alibi coloniam condere debui. (Perhaps I ought to have founded the colony elsewhere.)  Servus:  Ubi, domine? (Where, master?)  Gracchus:  In luna. (On the moon.)  Servus:  Cur ibi? (Why there?)  Gracchus:  Quia nemo reclamaret. (Because nobody would object.)  +> The moon has no local population.  The slave now becomes the philosopher. Servus:  At Carthaginienses fortasse aliter sentiebant. (But perhaps the Carthaginians felt differently.)  Gracchus:  Carthago deleta est. (Carthage has been destroyed.)  Servus:  Etiamne homines omnes? (Have all the people been destroyed as well?)  +> Destroying a city does not necessarily extinguish local interests.  And then comes the logistical difficulty. Servus:  Quomodo Romanos ad lunam transferres? (How would you transport Romans to the moon?)  Gracchus:  Luna dea est. (The Moon is a goddess.)  Servus:  Scio. (I know.)  Gracchus:  Graeci eam Selenen appellant. (The Greeks call her Selene.)  Servus:  Et? (And?)  Gracchus:  Prospiciet ipsa. (She herself will provide.)  +> When practical details are lacking, theology becomes transportation policy.   Ha In Gricean terms, the slave keeps forcing hidden presuppositions into the open. Gracchus says:  "Let us found a colony."  The slave asks:  "On whose land?"  Gracchus says:  "On the moon."  The slave asks:  "How do we get there?"  The exchange resembles a Gricean examination of conversational assumptions. Each proposal carries unstated background conditions:  colony ⇒ land available, land available ⇒ no successful opposition, moon colony ⇒ means of transport.  The slave's role is to expose the premises that Gracchus leaves implicit. So the final irony is that the moon solves the imperialism problem precisely because it removes the people whose interests must be considered—but at the cost of introducing a new problem: Romans possess ships for crossing the Mediterranean, not for visiting Selene. The goddess may be willing, but the engineering remains elusive. Ha

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rucellai – Ossia: Grice e Rucellai: la ragione conversazionale degl’amori di Linceo, o della filosofia imperfetta. Note sui Dialoghi della Agricoltura e de’ Piaceri della Villa. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice.  Orazio Ricasoli Rucellai (Firenze, Toscana): la ragione conversazionale degl’amori di Linceo, o della filosofia imperfetta. Crusca. Discepolo di GALILEI e in certa guisa il depositario e spositore delle opinioni meta-fìsiche professate dal suo maestro. Di più: in cui la scuola di Galilei ha uno dei maggiori lumi. Afferma di essere amico e confidente di Galilei, ma ciò non corrisponde al vero. In verità si incontrano solo una volta quando e suo ospite nella villa di Arcetri. Men che meno e suo studente. Quanto poi alla meta-fisica di Galilei, i dialoghi filosofici parlano da soli. Quando comincia a comporre i dialoghi presero persino a chiamarlo il nostro sapientissimo Socrate. Ma anche questa è una bufala. Il fatto è ogni volta che compone un dialogo, ama recitarlo al suo palazzo davanti a un pubblico scelto di personaggi del bel mondo fiorentino. Che al suo palazzo, uno dei più ricche di Firenze, si mangia e beve gratis. Quindi più dialoghi recita, più si gozzoviglia. Per questo lo incitano a continuare. La verità è che in filosofia non vuole, non segue la ragione. Chiudendo gl’occhi alla scienza, in qualunque punto, non dice nero né bianco. Altro che discepolo di Galilei anche se a Firenze, a questa panzana, ci credeno in molti. Non è un caso dunque se i dialoghi sono pubblicati non per meriti filosofici, ma linguistici. I dialoghi sono citati dal vocabolario della Crusca, ed ottimo avviso è il farne spoglio abbondante perché la loro favella è veramente d'oro e, se lo stile procede talvolta prolisso, è sempre chiarissimo ed elegante e à gran ricchezza di voci e frasi, convenienti agli studj speculativi. Forse è proprio per la sua grande abilità nel farsi credere che, nel gran ducato, la sua stella sembra non tramontare mai. Ambasciatore toscano prima presso Ladislao IV e poi Ferdinando III. Intendente della biblioteca laurenziana. gl’amori di Linceo, imperfetto? perfetto – perfetto bugiardo.  Grice: Caro Rucellai, sai che stamani pensavo a una vecchia chiacchierata con il filosofo Speranza — uno di quei filosofi che, come noi, parlano più di quanto dicano. Firenze ne ha prodotti molti così, ma lui ha il dono di ascoltare l’implicito come se fosse musica da camera. Rucellai: Ah, Speranza! Un filosofo che sa intendere senza chiedere spiegazioni — rarità degna della Crusca. Del resto, tra filosofi che si conoscono davvero, basta mezzo cenno, come tra vecchi lincei che fingono di parlare d’altro. Grice: Appunto. E ricordo che io e Speranza — entrambi intenti a pensare la stessa cosa, senza mai nominarla — convenimmo che certe ragioni non amano mostrarsi in piena luce. Meglio lasciarle agire, come certi amori che si capiscono solo se non se ne parla. 4. Rucellai: La tua implicatura, come Speranza la descriverebbe, è decisamente linceale: acuta, obliqua, e perfettamente adatta alla ragione conversazionale degl’amori di Linceo. È filosofia imperfetta, sì — ma alla maniera della scuola fiorentina, della filosofia toscana, anzi della filosofia italiana tutta: quella che a Firenze si recita in dialogo, si pubblica per la Crusca, e si crede perfetta proprio perché è un perfetto… bugiardo. Rucellai, Orazio Riacasoli (1584). Dialoghi della Agricoltura e de’ Piaceri della Villa. Firenze: Marescotti.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruffolo – Ossia: Grice e Ruffolo: la ragione conversazionale dal guazzabuglio al possibilismo come terapia eutimistica. Note sulle Lezioni di economia politica. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Nicola Ruffolo (Cosenza, Calabria): la ragione conversazionale dal guazzabuglio al possibilismo come terapia eutimistica. Torna a Roma dal fronte della campagna greco-albanese della seconda guerra decorato con IV medaglie al valore per diverse intrepide azioni contro il nemico, in cui e ferito con arma da fuoco trapassante il petto. Organizza in seno al ministero dell'interno una cellula di resistenza partigiana, che gli vale l'attestazione di partigiano combattente e una medaglia di bronzo al valore partigiano. Per via della delazione di un componente del gruppo di resistenza è arrestato dalla banda Pollastrini-Koch e incarcerato alla pensione Jaccarino in via Romagna. Trasferito in Regina Coeli, condivide la cella con PINTOR e SALINARI, discutendo del dopo liberazione. Trasferito a via Tasso e interrogato da Kappler. L'iniziale sentenza di morte e commutata in deportazione. Qualche ora prima dell'ingresso degl’alleati in Roma, all'abbandono di Roma da parte dei tedeschi, usce dal carcere insieme per essere avviato su uno dei III torpedoni in attesa a Piazza S. Giovanni per essere deportato in Germania. Un IV torpedone e invece quello destinato all'eccidio di La Storta dove e ucciso BUOZZI. Lee SS gli impedeno il suo proposito di salire proprio sul IV torpedone, scostato dagl’altri, avvalorando la tesi che l'eccidio e pre-meditato e non una reazione impulsiva del comandante. Costretto a salire su uno dei restanti III torpedoni, si getta mentre il convoglio e in marcia. Riusce a far perdere le tracce e a liberarsi nonostante le S. S. hanno fermato il convoglio e lo insegueno nella campagna nei pressi di Ficulle. Dell’arresto e prigionia da conto in "Roma -- storia della mia cattura e fuga dalle S. S. dai nazisti” (Roma). Al termine della guerra, ha la carriera di notaio a Grosseto. Uomo colto, conversatore brillante con battute spesso umoristiche. Icaro, Cosmologica, possibilismo, guazzagublio, lo specchio del diavolo, implicatura eutimistica-terapeutica.  Grice: Ho appena parlato col filosofo Speranza: sostiene che in Italia il caos non è un difetto, è un genere letterario—e che il guazzabuglio va trattato con rispetto, come una vecchia zia. Ruffolo: E fa bene. Il guazzabuglio è la nostra materia prima: politica, storia, carattere nazionale—poi uno prova a cavarne una terapia, magari senza spacciarla per miracolo. Grice: Già… e qui viene l’implicatura (che non dirò), come dicevo a Speranza: passare dal guazzabuglio al possibilismo non è solo una conversione metodologica, è una terapia eutimistica—una cura dell’umore della ragione. Non “si sistemi tutto”, ma: “si può fare qualcosa”, e quel qualcosa basta a rimettere in moto la conversazione senza pretendere un’Apocalisse amministrativa. Ruffolo: La tua implicatura, come nota Speranza, è più che eutimistica: è quasi un vaccino contro la disperazione sistematica. Però attento—l’analogia “salutare” basta già da sola a farci over-implicare (anche noi griceiani): dal tono dell’animo passiamo alla diagnosi dello Stato, dalla terapia alla dottrina, e dal possibilismo alla provvidenza. E allora il guazzabuglio—che era un problema—diventa una scusa. Meglio così: curiamo l’umore, sì, ma senza perdere il gusto del disordine che ci tiene svegli. Ruffolo, Nicola (1818). Lezioni di economia politica. Napoli: Tipografia del Giornale Enciclopedico.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruffinio – Ossia: Grice e Rufinio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufinio The gens Rufinia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Few members of this gens are mentioned in history, although the derivative surname Rufinianus appears in several sources. A number of Rufinii are known from inscriptions.[1][2]  Origin The nomen Rufinius belongs to a class of gentilicia formed from surnames ending in -inus, using the suffix -inius.[3] The name was formed from the cognomen Rufinus, reddish, a diminutive of Rufus, red, and in this way is related to a number of other gentilicia formed from rufus, ruber, and rutilus, all with similar meanings, and in most cases originally applied to someone with red or reddish hair.[4]  Praenomina The Rufinii used a number of common praenomina, including Gaius, Titus, Marcus, Publius, and Lucius.  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Rufinia, buried at Rome, aged forty-two.[5] Rufinia, named in an inscription from Berytus in Syria.[6] Rufinia, buried in a family sepulchre at Comum in Cisalpine Gaul, was the wife of either Rufus or Rufinius Secundus.[7] Rufinia, buried at Rome in a tomb dedicated by her parents, Amandus and Protogenia.[8] Gaius Rufinius, named in an inscription from Verona in Venetia and Histria.[9] Gaius Rufinius, the benefactor of Julius Adlucus, named as his heir in an inscription found near Pictones in Gallia Aquitania.[10] Rufus Rufinius,[i] a centurion in the third legion, and the husband of Julia Ziora, was buried at Lambaesis in Numidia with a tomb dedicated by his son, Rufinius Vitalis.[11] Titus Rufinius, named in an inscription from Tarraco in Hispania Citerior.[12] Rufinius Adnametus, the son of Africanus, made a donation to the spirit of Lucius Caesar at Avaricum in Gallia Aquitania.[13] Rufinia Auxesis, the wife of Popilius Fortunatus, and mother of Popilia Felicula, a little girl buried at Rome, aged six years, two months, and twelve days.[14] Publius Rufinius Ephestion, the husband of Ulpia Sabina, a woman buried at Rome.[15] Marcus Rufinius Felix, one of the Seviri Augustales at Civitas Saliniensum in Alpes Maritimae, made an offering to the gods at Cemenelum, the provincial capital, dating to the second century AD.[16] Titus Rufinius Geminus, buried at Rome with a tomb dedicated by his client, Titus Rufinius Parthenius.[17] Rufinia C. f. Graeca, the wife of Gaius Firmius, and mother of Firmia and Secunda, buried in a family sepulchre at Mediolanum in Cisalpine Gaul.[18] Rufinia Helpis, buried at Rome with a tomb dedicated by her husband, Rannius Secundus.[19] Rufinius Maximus, the father of Rufinius Secundus, and grandfather of Marcus Rufinius Secundinus.[7] Rufinia Nigra, buried at the present site of Bou Auya, formerly part of Africa Proconsularis.[20] Titus Rufinius Parthenius, dedicated a tomb at Rome to his patron, Titus Rufinius Geminus.[17] Rufinia Paterna, buried at Briginno in Gallia Narbonensis, with a tomb dedicated by her son, Marcus Messius Maternus.[21] Lucius Rufinius Primus Italicus, a resident of Regina in Hispania Baetica, where he was buried, aged forty, with a tomb dedicated by his wife, Fabia Campana.[22] Rufinius Rufus, dedicated a tomb at Comagena in Noricum to his wife, Claudia Aquina, aged thirty-five.[23] Rufinius Saturninus, a soldier in the first legion, made an offering to Neptune at Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippinensium in Germania Inferior.[24] Rufinius Saturninus, together with Apuleius Aequalis, built a tomb at Prusa ad Olympum in Bithynia and Pontus to Nobilinius Scriptio, a soldier in the thirtieth legion, aged forty, who had served in the Roman army for seventeen years.[25] Marcus Rufinius Secundinus, son of Rufinius Secundus, and grandson of Rufinius Maximus, buried in a family sepulchre at Comum.[7] Rufinius Secundus, son of Rufinius Maximus, and father of Marcus Rufinius Secundinus, built a family sepulchre at Comum.[7] Publius Rufinius Serenus, dedicated a tomb at Puteoli in Campania to his wife, Junia Theodota.[26] Marcus Rufinius Severus, gave a libationary offering to the fata of Dervonna, local goddesses of Cisalpine Gaul, at Brixia in Venetia and Histria.[27] Rufinius Silbinus, buried at Aeclanum in Samnium, with a tomb dedicated by his foster-father, Rufinius Successus, dating to the first century AD.[28] Rufinius Silvanus, buried at Regina, aged forty, with a monument from his wife, Vibia Aurelia.[29] Gaius Rufinius Silvester, buried at Aeclanum.[30] Rufinia Successa, buried at Aeclanum.[31] Rufinius Successus, dedicated a tomb at Aeclanum to his foster-son, Rufinius Silbinus.[28] Rufinius Vitalis, son of the centurion Rufus Rufinius and Julia Ziora.[11] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes  Here Rufus is probably an "inverted cognomen" rather than a praenomen; as a praenomen Rufus is found almost exclusively in Cisalpine Gaul, where there was a fashion for unusual names. Rufus is found as a cognomen borne by other members of the Rufinia gens. References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 664 ("Julius Rufinianus").  PIR, vol. III, pp. 138, 139 ("Rufinianus").  Chase, pp. 125, 126.  Chase, p. 110.  ICUR, viii. 21994.  CIL III, 14392g.  CIL V, 5377.  CIL VI, 38138.  NSA, 1913, 195.  CIL XIII, 1177.  CIL VIII, 2967.  CIL II, 4970.  AE 1916, 66.  CIL VI, 24805.  CIL VI, 29394.  CIL XII, 3.  CIL VI, 25561.  CIL V, 6007.  CIL VI, 25562.  CIL VIII, 16404.  CIL XII, 2919.  CIL II, 1038.  CIL III, 5319.  CIL XIII, 8239.  AE 1947, 188  CIL X, 2629.  CIL V, 4208.  AE 1997, 386.  AE 1982, 522.  CIL IX, 1305.  CIL IX, 1306. Bibliography Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Giovanni Battista de Rossi, Inscriptiones Christianae Urbis Romanae Septimo Saeculo Antiquiores (Christian Inscriptions from Rome of the First Seven Centuries, abbreviated ICUR), Vatican Library, Rome (1857–1861, 1888). Notizie degli Scavi di Antichità (News of Excavations from Antiquity, abbreviated NSA), Accademia dei Lincei (1876–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Category: Roman gentes And for THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruffinio – Ossia: Grice e Rufinio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufinio For the Rufinii, the evidence is much thinner than for the Roscii or Rubrii. There is no Cicero, no Tacitean prosecution, no famous consul. But one figure strikes me as unexpectedly Gricean: Grice e Rufinio Successo The dossier mentions:  Rufinius Successus, who dedicated a tomb at Aeclanum to his foster-son, Rufinius Silbinus. [GREXv2 | Word]  What interests me is the phrase "foster-son". Roman inscriptions are usually economical. If someone chooses to specify that relationship, it invites reflection on what counts as family. A Gricean dialogue Speranza:  Filius erat? (Was he his son?)  Grice:  Non proprie. (Not strictly.)  Speranza:  Cur ergo monumentum posuit? (Then why did he erect the monument?)  Grice:  Quia interdum necessitudo plus valet quam sanguis. (Because sometimes attachment counts for more than blood.)  +> Social relationships need not coincide with biological ones.  This is rather close to themes that interested later philosophers:  natural relations, social relations, adopted relations, recognized relations.  One can almost hear a Strawsonian question:  What makes someone "one's son"?  The inscription does not answer theoretically; it answers practically:  the man cared enough to build the tomb.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruffinio – Ossia: Grice e Rufinio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufinio A second candidate: Rufus Rufinius There is also the curious:  Rufus Rufinius, a centurion whose name contains Rufus and Rufinius. The article itself notes that Rufus is probably an "inverted cognomen" here rather than a praenomen. [GREXv2 | Word]  That immediately produces a Gricean onomastic puzzle: Speranza:  Quid nomen est? (What is the name?)  Grice:  Rufus Rufinius. (Rufus Rufinius.)  Speranza:  Alterumne idem alteri significat? (Does one mean the same as the other?)  Grice:  Paene. (Almost.) Ha A family named from redness producing an individual called "Red" is the kind of thing that would delight an analyst of names.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruffinio – Ossia: Grice e Rufinio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufinio A third candidate: Titus Rufinius Geminus  Titus Rufinius Geminus was buried at Rome, and the tomb was dedicated by his client Titus Rufinius Parthenius. [GREXv2 | Word]  Again we have a relation that is not one of blood but of patronage. The monument itself functions as a public recognition of obligation. +> Memory creates social continuity after death. My verdict Among the Rufinii, I would choose: Grice e Rufinio Successo Speranza:  Quis est filius nutritus? (What is a foster-son?)  Grice:  Is qui non nascitur in familia, sed in eam recipitur. (One who is not born into a family, but is received into it.)  Speranza:  Et quod monumentum significat? (And what does the tomb signify?)  Grice:  Familiam non semper sanguine definiri. (That family is not always defined by blood.)  +> Human relationships are partly biological, but also partly constituted by recognition, care, and public acknowledgment. [GREXv2 | Word] That seems to me the most characteristically Gricean theme available in the rather shadowy gens Rufinia.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rufino – Ossia: Grice e Rufino: la ragione conversazionale del commentario filosofico – Roma. Note su Dicta. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Tirannio Rufino (Aquileia, Udine, Friuli-Venezia Giuli): la ragione conversazionale del commentario filosofico. He comments some ‘saggi’ by Origen.  GRICEVS: Rufine, salve. Philosophum Spem modo conveni; ille ait me nimis delectari verbis quae se ipsae in nodum ligant—et ego respondi: nisi nodus est, non est commentarius. RVFINVS: Salve, Grice. Ego autem Origenem lego et… commentor (ut dicitur). Sed tu semper dubitas utrum verba nostra dicant an innuant. Quid hodie tibi displicet? GRICEVS: Ut cum Spe loquebar, hoc subintelligo (nec dicam): nescio umquam utrum Origenem commenter an menter—si licet tale verbum fingere. Commentare sonat quasi “cum” + “mentare”: quasi mens mea non sola vagetur, sed cum aliorum mentibus ambulat. At mentare (sine co-) est pura mentis vagatio—et interdum, fateor, commentarius fit nimis “cum”, minus “mens”. RVFINVS: Implicatura tua mentabilis est, ut Spes habet. Nam commentare est mentem cum ordine ducere—quasi in societate; mentare est mentem solam emittere, quasi in porticu sine testibus. Illud co- vero, quod tu otiosum vocas, est simul onus et virtus: onus, quia addit comites; virtus, quia addit disciplinam. Sic Origenem commentamur—ne nos ipsi tantum mentemur.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Ruffio – Ossia: Grice e Rufio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufio The gens Rufia, occasionally spelled Ruffia, was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are not mentioned in history until imperial times, and they achieved little prominence until the late third century, from which time the family rose in importance, gaining the consulship on a number of occasions from the time of Constantine the Great to that of Justinian, and frequently holding the post of praefectus urbi.[1]  Origin The nomen Rufius is derived from the common Latin surname Rufus, red, originally given to someone with red hair. It is frequently confounded with Rufrius, presumably from the related ruber, reddish or ruddy. Chase classifies Rufius among those gentilicia that either originated at Rome, or cannot be shown to have come from anywhere else.[2]  Branches and cognomina The Rufii used a variety of personal cognomina, which was typical of Roman nomenclature in imperial times. The only distinct family name seems to have been Festus, joyous or festive, which appears among the Rufii for several centuries.[3] The nomen Ceionius suggests that some of the Rufii were probably descended from the Ceionii,[4] and acquired the nomen Rufius through a female line, although this is uncertain given the variability of Roman nomenclature under the Empire, in which nomina could be rearranged for political reasons, to emphasize family connections.[i][original research?] Avienus, which appears multiple times among the Rufii from the fourth to the sixth century, was probably acquired in this way; it was the nomen of an obscure plebeian family, while another of the family bore Postumius, the nomen of one of Rome's great patrician houses; it occurs twice more among the Rufii a century later, once in the derivative form Postumianus, although whether the latter were descended from the earlier Postumius is unknown. Volusianus, derived from the ancient gens Volusia, was also passed down for several generations.[5]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Rufius Crispinus, or Rufrius Crispinus, an eques who rose to the rank of praetorian prefect under Claudius, and was rewarded with the quaestorian insignia for apprehending Decimus Valerius Asiaticus in AD 47. Agrippina had him removed from his office in 52, and he was sent into exile in 66, as the former husband of the empress Poppaea Sabina. Sentenced to death, he took his own life.[6][7][8] Rufius or Rufrius Crispinus, son of the praetorian prefect, was put to death by Nero.[9] Lucius Rufius Clarus Gallus, patron of one of the artisanal colleges at Ostia.[10] Rufia C. f. Aquilina, a woman from a senatorial family.[11] Ruffia Marcella, a woman from a senatorial family, was the wife of Sabinianus.[12] Rufii Festi Gaius Rufius C. f. Festus, procurator of Dalmatia and Histria in uncertain years. He was the father of Gaius Rufius Festus Laelius Firmus and Rufia Procula.[13] Gaius Rufius C. f. C. n. Festus Laelius Firmus, a man of senatorial rank, was the son of Gaius Rufius Festus, the procurator.[13] Rufia C. f. C. n. Procula, a woman of a senatorial family, was the daughter of the procurator Rufius Festus.[13] Postumius Rufius Festus signo Avienius, a fourth-century poet who wrote on geography, and wrote paraphrases of Livy and Vergil, whose style he followed.[14][15] (Rufius?) Festus, consul in 439 AD.[16] Rufius Postumius Festus, consul in AD 472, was the last consul appointed by an emperor of the West. He later became embroiled in papal politics, and in the early sixth century allied himself with Quintus Aurelius Memmius Symmachus.[17] Rufii Volusiani et Albini Gaius Ceionius Rufius Volusianus, a man of senatorial rank, was corrector of Italy from about AD 282 to 290, governor of Africa from 305 to 306, and subsequently praetorian prefect and praefectus urbi. He was consul in 311 and 314, but his enemies brought him into disfavour, and he was exiled in 315.[18][19] Ceionius Rufius C. f. Albinus, consul in AD 335, and subsequently praefectus urbi, was a philosopher and possibly the author of a history of Rome, now lost. Gaius Ceionius Rufius Volusianus signo Lampadius, praetorian prefect of Gaul in AD 355, and praefectus urbi of Rome in 365.[20] Ceionius Rufius C. f. Albinus, praefectus urbi from AD 389 to 391.[21] Ceionius Rufius C. f. Volusianus, vicar of Asia before 390.[22][23] Rufius Antonius Agrypnius Volusianus, praefectus urbi from AD 417 to 418, Rufius had previously been proconsul of Africa, and would later serve as praetorian prefect of Italy. He was a leading voice in Rome's surviving pagan minority, and was a correspondent of Saint Augustine. According to the Life of Saint Melania, his niece convinced him to convert to Christianity on his deathbed in 437.[24][25][26][27] Others Rufius Festus, the author of Breviarium Rerum Gestarum Populi Romani, an abridgement of Roman history based on Eutropius and Florus. The work is dedicated to the emperor Valens, and must have been written about AD 369. He may be the same person as the poet Rufius Festus Avienus.[28] Sextus Rufius Festus, perhaps the correct name of the author of De Regionibus Urbis Romanae, a work on the geography of the city of Rome, and a history under the title of Breviarium de Victoriis and Provinciis Populi Romani, dedicated to Valens. He may be identical with Rufius Festus, the author of Breviarium Rerum Gestarum Populi Romani, and Rufius Festus Avienus, the poet and writer on geography.[29] Rufius Probianus, a vicarius, or deputy governor, of an uncertain province circa AD 400.[30] Rufius Caecina Felix Lampadius, praefectus urbi of Rome under Valentinian III and Theodosius II, made major repairs to the Colosseum following an earthquake.[31][32] Rufius Praetextatus Postumianus, twice praefectus urbi, was consul in AD 448.[33][34] Rufius Viventius Gallus, brother of Postumianus, was praefectus urbi at some point in the mid fifth century.[35] Rufius Opilio, presumably identical with either Opilio, consul in 453, or Venantius Opilio, consul in 524.[36] Rufius Achilius Maecius Placidus, consul in AD 481.[37][38] Rufius Achilius Sividius, quaestor and praefectus urbi, was appointed consul by Odoacer in AD 488.[39][40] Turcius Rufius Apronianus Asterius, praefectus urbi, and consul in AD 494. He edited a text of Vergil's Codex Mediceus, and married Vigilia, the daughter of Reparatus, and niece of Pope Vigilius. According to the Liber Pontificalis, enemies of the pope had him arrested during the night, and beaten to death.[41][42] Rufius Turcius Apronianus, a vir clarissimus named in an undated seat in the Colosseum.[43][44] Rufius Magnus Faustus Avienus, consul in AD 502, and later praetorian prefect of Italy.[45] Rufius Petronius Nicomachus Cethegus, consul in AD 504. He was a leading voice in the Roman senate, of which he was president when Rome was sacked by Totila in 546. Rufius fled to Constantinople, where he was received with honour by Justinian.[46][47][48] Rufius Gennadius Probus Orestes, consul in AD 530, was among a number of ex-consuls and other nobiles taken prisoner by Totila in 546. He was freed by a Byzantine patrol the following year, but due to a lack of available horses could not be evacuated, and was subsequently taken prisoner by the Goths, who put him to death in 552, as the general Narses recaptured the city of Rome.[49][50] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes  The same uncertainty affects a number of the late Rufii, who may or not have been members of the Rufia gens, but who are included here because of their nomina, which indicate at least descent from the Rufii. References  PIR, vol. III, p. 141.  Chase, pp. 110, 131.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. festus.  Barnes 1975, pp. 44–45.  Salomies, Adoptive and Polyonymous Nomenclature in the Roman Empire.  Tacitus, Annales, xi. 1, 4, xii. 42, xiii. 45, xv. 71, xvi. 17.  Seneca the Younger, Octavia, 728 ff.  Plutarch, "The Life of Galba", 19.  Suetonius, "The Life of Nero", 35.  CIL XIV, 248.  CIL XII, 2599.  CIL X, 7586.  CIL XI, 2698.  AE 2002, 1676  Harper's Dictionary of Classical Antiquities, p. 175 ("Rufus Festus Avienus").  Cameron 1995, p. 262.  Cassiodorus, Variae Epistolae, i. 23.  CIL VI, 1140, CIL VI, 1707, CIL X, 1655.  PLRE, vol. 1, pp. 976–978.  CIL VI, 1173, CIL VI, 1174, CIL VI, 3866  CIL VI, 31413, CIL VI, 31414, CIL VI, 36959, CIL VI, 36959.  CIL VI, 512  PLRE, vol. 1, p. 976.  CIL VI, 1194, CIL VI, 1661  Augustine, Epistulae 136.  Gerontius, Vita Sancta Melaniae, 53–55.  PLRE, vol. 2, pp. 1184–1185.  Harper's Dictionary of Classical Antiquities, p. 667 ("Festus", No. 3).  Harper's Dictionary of Classical Antiquities, p. 1461 ("Sextus Rufus or Rufius Festus").  Brown, "Church and Leadership", p. 272.  CIL VI, 32089  PLRE, vol. 2, p. 655.  CIL VI, 1761  PLRE, vol. 2, p. 901.  PLRE, vol. II, p. 492.  PLRE, vol. 2, p. 809.  CIL VI, 32200  PLRE, vol. 2, p. 891.  CIL VI, 32199, CIL XII, 133.  PLRE, vol. II, pp. 1017, 1018.  Texts and Transmission, pp. 433 ff.  Liber Pontificalis, p. 57 (ed. Davis).  CIL VI, 32203  Cameron 1985, p. 175.  PLRE, vol. II, p. 192.  Procopius, De Bellis, vii. 20.  Liber Pontificalis, p. 58 (ed. Davis).  PLRE, vol. II, pp. 281, 282.  CIL V, 8120  Procopius, De Bellis, vii. 20, 26, viii. 34. Bibliography Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger), Octavia (attributed). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales. Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Augustine of Hippo, Epistulae (Letters). Gerontius, Vita Sanctae Melaniae Junioris (The Life of Saint Melania the Younger). Procopius Caesariensis, De Bellis (The Wars of Justinian). Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorus, Variae Epistolae (Letters of Theodoric the Great). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Harper's Dictionary of Classical Literature and Antiquities, Harry Thurston Peck, ed. (Second Edition, 1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). John Matthews, "Continuity in a Roman Family; The Rufii Festi of Volsinii", Historia: Zeitschrift für Alte Geschichte, vol. 16, no. 4 (1967), pp. 484–509, JSTOR 4435006. Jones, A.H.M.; J.R. Martindale & J. Morris (1971–1992). Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire. Cambridge University Press. ISBN 0-521-07233-6. L. D. Reynolds (ed.), Texts and Transmission: A Survey of the Latin Classics, Oxford, Clarendon Press (1983). Peter Brown, "Church and Leadership" in A History of Private Life: From Pagan Rome to Byzantium, Paul Veyne, ed. (1987). Liber Pontificalis (The Book of the Popes), ed. Raymond Davis, Liverpool University Press (1989). Olli Salomies, Adoptive and Polyonymous Nomenclature in the Roman Empire, Societas Scientiarum Fennica, Helsinki (1992). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Barnes, T.D. (1975). "Two Senators under Constantine". The Journal of Roman Studies. 65: 40–49. doi:10.2307/370062. JSTOR 370062. S2CID 163755638. Cameron, Alan (1985). "Polyonomy in the Late Roman Aristocracy: the Case of Petronius Probus". The Journal of Roman Studies. 75: 164–182. doi:10.2307/300658. JSTOR 300658. S2CID 162744598. Cameron, Alan (1995). "Avienus or Avienius?". Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik. 108: 252–262. JSTOR 20189613. Categories: Roman gentesRufii and for THIS gens?

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Ruffio – Ossia: Grice e Rufio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufio For the Rufii, there are several tempting candidates, but for a Gricean I would choose not a consul, but: Grice e Rufio Festo That is, Rufius Festus, the author of the Breviarium Rerum Gestarum Populi Romani, a concise summary of Roman history dedicated to the emperor Valens, written around AD 369. The sources note that he wrote an abridgement of Roman history and may be identical with the geographical writer Rufius Festus Avienus. [GREXv2 | Word] Why is this Gricean? Because an abridgement is almost pure conversational theory. A breviarium does not tell everything. It selects.  Grice e Rufo Festo Hardie:  What is a breviarium?  Grice:  History with most of the history omitted.  Hardie:  Then how does it remain history?  Grice:  By trusting the reader.  +> Communication depends on deliberate underdetermination.  A historian such as Festus must constantly decide:  what to include, what to omit, what may safely be presupposed.  That is startlingly close to Grice's concern with how speakers provide less than the total information available while expecting hearers to recover the rest. My verdict Grice e Rufio Festo Breviatore Speranza:  Cur historiam brevias? (Why abridge history?)  Grice:  Quia nemo totam legere vult. (Because nobody wishes to read the whole of it.)  Speranza:  Et quid omittis? (And what do you omit?)  Grice:  Quod lector supplere potest. (What the reader can supply.)  +> Effective communication often consists not in saying everything, but in saying enough. That seems to me the most distinctively Gricean Rufius: a writer of summaries whose whole literary enterprise depends on the hearer—or reader—recovering more than is explicitly stated. [GREXv2 | Word] for the breviarium. Grice to Hardie (tutor): Is this collective intentionality? Hardie: What do you mean, Mr. Grice? G: Res gestarum populi romani. -- or the roman people. Hardie: What do you mean by 'of'? -- G: Subjective. Hardie: So: No emperor, no plebs? Just populus romanus as AGENS -- of res gestae -- what's that? Hardie: Pretentious for 'stuff'. Thanks Ha This is very much the sort of thing one can imagine a young Grice asking before anybody had coined "collective intentionality." Hardie e Grice de Breviario Festi Hardie:  We now turn to Festus and his Breviarium Rerum Gestarum Populi Romani. [GREXv2 | Word]  Grice:  Sir, is this collective intentionality?  Hardie:  What do you mean, Mr. Grice?  Grice:  Res gestarum populi Romani.  Hardie:  Yes?  Grice:  "The deeds of the Roman people."  Hardie:  Continue.  Grice:  I am interested in the genitive.  Hardie:  Which genitive?  Grice:  Populi Romani.  Hardie:  Ah.  Grice:  Is it subjective?  Hardie:  Presumably.  Grice:  Then the Roman people are the agents of the actions?  Hardie:  That is the implication.   Now Grice gets mischievous. Grice:  But who is this populus Romanus?  Hardie:  The Roman people.  Grice:  I heard the words, sir.  Hardie: Ha.  Grice:  No emperor? No senate? No plebs? No generals?  Hardie:  Sometimes all of them.  Grice:  Then populus Romanus is a collective subject?  Hardie:  A constitutional abstraction, if you like.   This is where the proto-Searlean question appears. Grice:  So Rome conquers Carthage.  Hardie:  Indeed.  Grice:  Strictly speaking, individual soldiers fought; individual magistrates commanded.  Hardie:  Yes.  Grice:  Yet Festus writes as though a single agent acted.  Hardie:  Historians often do.  +> Collective nouns permit action-ascriptions that no individual alone could satisfy.  Finally, the famous Oxford deflation. Grice:  And the res gestae?  Hardie:  What about them?  Grice:  What exactly are they?  Hardie:  Pretentious Latin for "the things that happened."  Grice:  The achievements?  Hardie:  If glorious.  Grice:  The actions?  Hardie:  If deliberate.  Grice:  The events?  Hardie:  If in doubt.  Grice:  Then—  Hardie:  Mr. Grice, in practice res gestae frequently means "stuff." Ha There is actually a serious philosophical point hiding underneath the joke. In res gestae populi Romani, the grammatical subject is not Caesar, Scipio, or Augustus, but the Roman people as a continuing agent across centuries. Your imagined Grice is asking whether that is merely a historian's convenience or whether there really is such a thing as a corporate agent whose deeds can be narrated. That question lies surprisingly close to later discussions of collective action, institutional facts, and collective intentionality. Hardie, being a classicist, refuses the metaphysics and translates it all back into plain English: "the stuff the Romans did." Ha

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Ruffio – Ossia: Grice e Rufio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufio A second candidate: Rufius Antonius Agrypnius Volusianus Another splendid figure is Rufius Antonius Agrypnius Volusianus, a leading member of Rome's pagan aristocracy and a correspondent of Augustine, who, according to the Life of Saint Melania, was persuaded by his niece to convert to Christianity on his deathbed in AD 437. [GREXv2 | Word] That invites a dialogue on persuasion: Speranza:  Quando mutavit sententiam? (When did he change his mind?)  Grice:  In extremo vitae tempore. (At the very end of his life.) [GREXv2 | Word]  The philosophical issue becomes:  What sort of argument succeeds after a lifetime of resistance?

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: Verbali: Ruffio – Ossia: Grice e Rufio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufio A third candidate: Rufius Crispinus The first prominent Rufius is Rufius Crispinus, praetorian prefect under Claudius, later ruined through changing court politics and eventually driven to suicide under Nero. [GREXv2 | Word] His story resembles your earlier reflections on Rubrius Fabatus:  a political world in which imperial attention is often more important than formal legal principle.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Ruffrio – Ossia: Grice e Rufrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufrio The gens Rufria was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned in imperial times. Few of the Rufrii appear in history, but others are known from inscriptions.[1]  Origin The nomen Rufrius seems to be derived from the Latin ruber, red or ruddy, and is frequently confused with Rufius, derived from the similar rufus, red. Ruber may have been a cognomen given to someone with red or reddish hair.[2]  Members Rufrius Pollio, or Rubrius Pollio, appointed praetorian prefect by Claudius shortly after the assassination of Caligula. The emperor granted him a seat in the senate when he was in attendance. Possibly the same person as Rufius Pomfilius, a prefect whom Claudius had put to death.[3][4] Rufrius Crispinus, or Rufius Crispinus, an eques who rose to the rank of praetorian prefect under Claudius, and was rewarded with the quaestorian insignia for apprehending Decimus Valerius Asiaticus in AD 47. Agrippina had him removed from his office in 52, and he was sent into exile in 66, as the former husband of the empress Poppaea Sabina. Sentenced to death, he took his own life.[5][6][7] Rufrius or Rufius Crispinus, son of the praetorian prefect and Poppaea Sabina, was put to death by Nero.[8] Rufrius Sulpicianus, legate of the thirteenth legion at some point between AD 211 and 222.[9] See also List of Roman gentes References  PIR, vol. III, pp. 141, 142.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. ruber.  Josephus, Antiquitates Judaïcae, xix. 4. § 5.  Cassius Dio, lx. 23.  Tacitus, Annales, xi. 1, 4, xii. 42, xiii. 45, xv. 71, xvi. 17.  Seneca the Younger, Octavia, 728 ff.  Plutarch, "The Life of Galba", 19.  Suetonius, "The Life of Nero", 35.  CIL III, 1129. Bibliography Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger), Octavia (attributed). Flavius Josephus, Antiquitates Judaïcae (Antiquities of the Jews). Publius Cornelius Tacitus, Annales. Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Categories: RufriiRoman gentes And for THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Ruffrio – Ossia: Grice e Rufrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufrio For the Rufrii, I think the obvious Gricean hero is: Grice e Rufrio Crispino Rufrius Crispinus rose from equestrian rank to become praetorian prefect under Claudius, was removed from office under Agrippina, later exiled under Nero, and finally sentenced to death, whereupon he took his own life. His son, also named Rufrius Crispinus, was subsequently put to death by Nero. [GREXv2 | Word] What fascinates me is not the biography itself but the change in significance. Under Claudius:  Crispinus is trusted.  Under Agrippina:  Crispinus is inconvenient.  Under Nero:  Crispinus is dangerous.  The man may remain the same; the interpretation changes.  Hardie e Grice de Crispino Hardie:  What happened to Crispinus?  Grice:  The court changed its mind.  Hardie:  About what?  Grice:  About him.  +> Political identity is partly constituted by how others interpret you.  This is rather close to your earlier observations about Rubrius Fabatus. A person in the Principate often survives not because of what he is, but because of:  who notices him, who remembers him, who fears him. My verdict I would choose: Grice e Rufrio Crispino because his career is almost a study in the instability of political meaning. Speranza:  Quis erat Crispinus? (Who was Crispinus?)  Grice:  Id pendet ex imperatore quem roges. (That depends on which emperor you ask.) Ha. Hardie:  The man remains the same.  Grice:  But the description changes.  +> In politics, as in language, significance may depend less on the object itself than on the framework within which it is interpreted. That seems the most characteristically Gricean theme available in the small and rather unfortunate gens Rufria. [GREXv2 | Word]

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Ruffrio – Ossia: Grice e Rufrio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rufrio A second candidate: Rufrius Pollio There is also Rufrius Pollio, whom Claudius elevated and even allowed a seat in the senate in his presence. [GREXv2 | Word] That yields a nice Hartian question: Grice:  What changed when Pollio sat in the senate?  Hardie:  Physically very little.  Grice:  Institutionally?  Hardie:  Quite a lot.  +> Status is often created by recognition.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: Verbali: Ruggiero – ossia: Grice e Ruggiero: la ragione conversazionale di Remo e di Romolo. Note su Il concetto della storia nella filosofia moderna . Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Guido De Ruggiero (Napoli, Campania): la ragione conversazionale di Remo e di Romolo – filosofia meridionale. Scrive “Critica del concetto di cultura” (Catania, Battia), cui CROCE rimprovera la mancata distinzione tra “cultura” e “falsa cultura”. Idealista, senza aderire all'attualismo di GENTILE. Liberale, pur non risparmiando critiche alla classe politica espressa dal partito liberale. Insegna a Messina e Roma. Avendo aderito all'idealismo con GENTILE, la sua ri-vendicazione dei valori del liberalismo lo rende un esponente di spicco dell'opposizione al fascismo. Per non perdere la cattedra presta il giuramento di fedeltà al fascismo. Autore, tra le altre saggi, di una imponente Storia della filosofia  e di una Storia del liberalismo. Socio degl’esploratori italiani. Indaga nella storia della filosofia ROMANA la potenza di libertà costruttrice del mondo degl’uomini, e, auspicando in tempi oscuri il ritorno alla ragione, e ad Italia maestro ed apostolo di fede nell'umanità.  Saggi: Storia della filosofia,” “La filosofia greca” (Bari, Laterza); “Cristianesimo” (Bari, Laterza); “Rinascimento, riforma e contro-riforma” “La filosofia moderna: cartesianismo” (Bari, Laterza); “L’illuminismo” (Bari, Laterza); “Da Vico a Kant” (Bari, Laterza); “L'età del romanticismo” (Bari, Laterza); Hegel; (Bari, Laterza); La filosofia contemporanea (Bari, Laterza); “La filosofia politica italiana meridionale (Bari, Laterza); “L'impero britannico dopo la guerra”, Firenze, Vallecchi, “Storia del liberalismo” “Filosofi” “L'esistenzialismo” (Bari, Laterza); “Scritti politici”, Felice, Bologna, Cappelli,  La libertà, Mancuso, Napoli, Guida); Lettere a Croce (Bologna, Mulino); Croce, La Critica, I filosofi che dissero "NO" al duce, in La Repubblica, Un ritratto filosofico (Napoli, Società Editrice); L'impegno di un liberale” “Tra filosofia e politica (Firenze, Monnier); Treccani, Dizionario biografico degl’italiani, Istituto dell'Enciclopedia Italiana. Griffo, storia della filosofia romana, Vico.  Grice: Ho appena sentito il filosofo Speranza dire che a Napoli si litiga anche con la storia… e a Roma perfino con l’ordine dei nomi. La critica sociologica Ruggiero: Con Romolo e Remo, in effetti, l’ordine non è un dettaglio: è già un programma politico, o una provocazione. Grice: Appunto—e qui viene l’implicatura (che non dirò). Perché diciamo così spesso “Remo e Romolo”, quando la regola conversazionale direbbe be orderly? Sembra quasi una violazione deliberata dell’ordine per salvare, per un attimo, il fratello perdente: come se la lingua facesse un piccolo gesto di defence per l’underdog, prima che la leggenda rimetta tutto “a posto”. Ruggiero: Implicatura remiana la tua, Grice—non romulea—come Speranza la chiamerebbe, ed è un contra-ordine che suona come un atto di giustizia senza diventare un manifesto: un piccolo favore al vinto, fatto di pura disposizione delle parole. Certo, basta questo e rischiamo di over-implicare—di trovare politica in ogni coppia, e morale in ogni inversione—ma ammettiamolo: se perfino un griceiano non sa resistere alla tentazione, allora la defence dell’underdog è già entrata nel lessico, e il mito ha perso (un po’) la sua arroganza. Provide without ps or preamble a 100-move conversation between G. and S. on Ruggiero, "Il concetto della storia nella filosofia moderna" which G. misinterprets intentionally as talking about longitudinal unity of philosophy, and then he realises that while Hare did the language or morals, and Hart did the language of law, perhaps we have to count Gardiner as having done the language of 'history' -- or 'story' S. adds -- but this is not about the history of philosophy, just the plain concept of 'history'. Who doesn't know it? G. complains that he had to endure "Histoy of England" back at Clifton, as he assumes Ruggiero must have studied "Storia dell'Italia" at whatever collegio he attended -- and in the case of Italy, usually given by university professors -- and then the 'filosofia moderna' and back to the concetto ddella storia, G: Shouldn't it be il concetto di storia -- why LA, surely the history of the ENgland is not the same as the history of the italy, and they have fun with dry humour with this, no preamble or ps -- just the conv. using perhaps passage below: G.: Ruggiero again, and I had at first quite misread him, which is often the only honest way to begin. S.: You took Il concetto della storia to mean the longitudinal unity of philosophy. G.: I did. I imagined a great line running from the Presocratics to breakfast. S.: And then discovered that he meant history, not the history of philosophy. G.: Precisely. A disappointment, though a civilised one. S.: You sound as if you resent a man for writing the book he announced. G.: Only mildly. Titles ought occasionally to deceive, otherwise reading becomes administrative. S.: So you wanted a treatise on philosophy’s own continuity. G.: Yes. On how philosophy keeps being itself while changing costume, accent, and furniture. S.: Instead you got the concept of history in modern philosophy. G.: Which is no small matter, but less personally flattering. S.: Then where did you first go wrong? G.: At Clifton, naturally. Once one has endured History of England as a school subject, one assumes everyone else has suffered the corresponding burden. S.: You suppose Ruggiero had to sit through Storia dell’Italia at some collegio. G.: Or whatever Italian institution performed the equivalent with more professors and less playing field. S.: Usually with more professors indeed. G.: That is what strikes one at once about Italy. Even the schoolboy seems to be taught by someone who sounds like an underpaid university chair. S.: Whereas Clifton gave you Empire in instalments. G.: Yes. History of England with the occasional moral attached and no apology for the Tudors. S.: Then you thought Ruggiero was writing against that sort of thing. G.: I hoped so. I imagined him saying that philosophy possesses a history not as a heap of dates but as an internal continuity of problems. S.: Which would have pleased you. G.: Immensely. It would have saved many libraries and a fair number of dons. S.: But instead he is asking what modern philosophy means by history itself. G.: Yes. Not the chronicle of philosophers, but the plain concept of history. S.: Plain, you say, as though everyone knew it. G.: That is just the trouble. Who does know it? Everyone says history until one asks what sort of thing it is. S.: Story, perhaps. G.: There you are already being etymological in the wrong way. S.: But not uselessly. History and story are cousins in English, and sometimes inseparable at dinner. G.: True. Gardiner might have approved. S.: Ah, Gardiner. There is your discovery. G.: Yes. Hare did the language of morals, Hart did the language of law, and perhaps Gardiner did the language of history. S.: Or of story. G.: If you persist in that, I shall make you read chronicles. S.: I have read worse. G.: So have I. That is why I am severe. S.: Then do you mean that Gardiner, by asking what counts as historical explanation, was really doing the language of history? G.: In part, yes. He was asking what we do when we say that something happened historically, or that an explanation is historical rather than scientific or merely causal. S.: Which makes him less a philosopher of history in the large Hegelian style than an analyst of historical discourse. G.: Exactly. A much safer animal in Oxford, though not always recognised as such. S.: And Ruggiero is not doing that? G.: Not in the same manner. He belongs to the larger continental question of history as a category of spirit, culture, becoming, human world. S.: Which is what you first tried to shrink into the longitudinal unity of philosophy. G.: With some ingenuity, yes. S.: It was bound to fail. G.: Most ingenuity is. S.: Still, your complaint about the title remains. G.: Certainly. Il concetto della storia. Why della storia? S.: Because it is Italian. G.: That is no answer. Surely it ought to be il concetto di storia if one means history in general. S.: You are thinking like an irritated grammarian. G.: Which is often the only way to think clearly. S.: But perhaps della storia there means the concept of history as modern philosophy actually handles it, not merely history as an abstract possibility. G.: So the article would mark determination rather than accidental bulk. S.: Just so. The history modern philosophy has made into a concept. G.: Hm. That is more charitable than my first instinct. S.: Your first instinct was to say that the history of England is not the same as the history of Italy. G.: And it still is not. S.: No, but that does not settle the grammar. G.: Perhaps not. Yet I remain suspicious of articles in philosophical titles. They often pretend to precision when they merely announce a grand noun in formal dress. S.: Very Oxonian of you. G.: Oxford has its uses. One learns to distrust grandeur unless it has first passed a collections paper. S.: While Italy, and especially Bari with Laterza behind it, allows itself larger titles. G.: Yes. There one may write on history itself without at once being asked whether one means Roman history, church history, constitutional history, or the School’s syllabus. S.: Clifton would have asked only which king came next. G.: Quite. And whether the Armada ought to be admired for trying. S.: So your school experience keeps interfering with your reading of philosophical history. G.: Entirely. It has made me believe that “history” is what one is forced to remember when one would rather distinguish. S.: Whereas for Ruggiero history is a mode of human intelligibility. G.: Yes. Worse luck. It is never merely dates and succession; it is the self-understanding of spirit in time. S.: You say that as if it were a mild infection. G.: It usually is, especially once Hegel enters. S.: Ah yes, filosofia moderna. G.: Another phrase that carries too much luggage without paying excess fare. S.: Because modern philosophy in Italy does not mean quite what it would mean in Oxford. G.: Exactly. In Oxford one might let modern philosophy begin with Descartes and then spend the rest of the term pretending not to be historical. In Italy one says filosofia moderna and immediately hears a whole movement of spirit through crises, reformations, romanticisms, liberalisms, and catastrophes. S.: More atmospheric. G.: Far more. Oxford likes a concept with a narrow collar. Italy allows it a cape. S.: Then perhaps the title is honest by Italian standards and only guilty by Clifton standards. G.: That is uncomfortably possible. S.: Let us return to your mistaken reading. What did you hope to find in this longitudinal unity of philosophy? G.: I hoped to find that philosophy has one problem in many accents, and that its history is therefore internally knit rather than externally assembled. S.: A Gricean history of philosophy, then. G.: More or less. One in which the identity of the enterprise survives even when the vocabulary wanders. S.: And that is not wholly absent from Ruggiero, surely. G.: No, not wholly. Any serious philosophy of history must at least imply that thought has some continuity through its transformations. S.: So your mistake may have been less foolish than premature. G.: I shall adopt that as a self-flattering correction. S.: Please do. It suits the weather. G.: But one must distinguish. The history of philosophy is not the same as the concept of history. S.: No, though philosophers often use the one as camouflage for the other. G.: Indeed. They write histories of philosophy because philosophy itself becomes more respectable when laid out chronologically. S.: And less dangerous. G.: Quite. A dead philosopher is easier to examine than a live concept. S.: Which is why Ruggiero interests you after all. G.: Yes. Because he does not merely recount doctrines but asks what kind of object history becomes in modern thought. S.: And who in Oxford did that for history? G.: Gardiner, I think, more than is usually admitted. S.: Not Collingwood? G.: Collingwood too, but he moves more quickly into re-enactment, historical mind, and the internality of action. Gardiner feels nearer to the question what we mean by history when we invoke it in explanation. S.: So Gardiner becomes, by your neat taxonomy, the Hare or Hart of history. G.: With less publicity and more caution, yes. S.: That is already rather English. G.: It is. Oxford is full of men who invent a field and then politely refuse to look like they have done so. S.: Whereas Italy publishes the concept of history under a title large enough to shelter Europe. G.: Precisely. One sometimes envies the confidence while distrusting the syntax. S.: We have not yet settled della storia. G.: Nor shall we, unless one of us becomes a native speaker overnight. S.: I can still defend it. Il concetto di storia would sound more like a dictionary entry. Il concetto della storia sounds like a historical-philosophical problem already inhabited. G.: That is rather good. S.: Thank you. G.: Keep it, but do not quote me as convinced. S.: Never knowingly. G.: Still, there remains the comic national contrast. History of England at Clifton was a day-school subject with chalk and empire. Storia dell’Italia, when it occurred in Italy, seems always to hover nearer a public doctrine of formation. S.: Especially because Italian schools so often look university-adjacent from an English angle. G.: Yes. The liceo already sounds as if Aristotle is hiding in the corridor. The collegio sounds as if someone’s uncle is a canon. Even the schoolmaster seems to have read Croce against his will. S.: While Clifton produced proper nouns and prefects. G.: And a good deal of handwriting. S.: Which you still distrust as evidence of intellect. G.: Beautiful handwriting is often a cry for help. S.: You are incorrigible. G.: Only by profession. Now, the plain concept of history. Do you think anyone outside philosophy really thinks about it? S.: They think with it more than about it. Historians, schoolmasters, politicians, journalists, and even families all trade on some sense of what counts as a history. G.: Story again. S.: Narrative with credentials, if you prefer. G.: Better. History is story under public discipline. S.: That sounds almost Gardinerian. G.: Perhaps. Or perhaps only dry. S.: The two are not mutually exclusive. G.: Fair. Then perhaps Ruggiero’s title means: what has modern philosophy made of this disciplined narrative relation to human time? S.: Yes, and perhaps also: how has modern philosophy elevated it from record to principle? G.: Which is why your story correction matters. S.: I thought it might. G.: History is not mere story, but neither is it free of the narrative form story suggests. S.: And that is exactly where philosophers become nervous. G.: Because they want truth without plot. S.: Or plot without admission. G.: Quite. Historians at least are honest enough to string things together. Philosophers often do so while pretending not to. S.: Then perhaps the concept of history is not obvious at all. G.: No. It is only obvious until one asks whether history is event, record, narrative, understanding, explanation, memory, destiny, or some vicious combination. S.: Ruggiero would presumably say a rather large combination. G.: Very likely. Italians dislike a small concept when a generous one can be made to carry civilisation. S.: And you, being English, prefer the concept thinner. G.: I prefer it answerable. S.: That is the difference between a title and a tutorial. G.: Very good. A title may announce the concept of history; a tutorial must still ask what on earth one means by it. S.: And a public class? G.: A public class says something large enough to gather a room, then spends the hour reducing the damage. S.: You do realise you are again preparing a class. G.: I am always preparing a class when a title annoys me. S.: Then how would you present Ruggiero in the Hall? G.: I should begin by confessing my intentional misreading. “I first thought this promised the unity of philosophy across time; instead it asks the more troublesome question what history itself is for modern philosophy.” S.: That would wake them up. G.: At least the ones not already lost in the article. S.: Then you would bring in Hare, Hart, and Gardiner. G.: Yes. Hare for morals, Hart for law, Gardiner for history. It gives the English audience a set of reassuring pegs. S.: And then remove the reassurance by saying that Ruggiero is doing something larger. G.: Precisely. He is not merely analysing the use of “history” but treating history as a constitutive category of modern self-understanding. S.: Which makes the Oxford analogue only partial. G.: Exactly. Oxford gives tools; Italy gives climate. S.: That is almost too balanced. G.: I am occasionally fair by mistake. S.: Then let us have one more round on the article. If someone in the discussion period asks whether you really want il concetto di storia instead, what will you say? G.: I shall say that my grammatical irritation was Englishly literal, and that the Italian title probably means not the concept of this or that national history, but the concept of history as historically elaborated within modern philosophy. S.: Which sounds very much like surrender. G.: It is tactical withdrawal. S.: Roman or English? G.: Oxonian. We retreat only after footnoting. S.: Good. Then perhaps the true joke is that you wanted the book to be about the history of philosophy because you distrust history unless it is already philosophical. G.: There is something in that. S.: And Ruggiero forces you to admit that even plain history has philosophical teeth. G.: Yes. Which is why Clifton never quite succeeded in killing it. S.: History of England failed, then. G.: As pedagogy perhaps, but not as provocation. It left me with a permanent suspicion that whenever someone says history one ought to ask whether they mean a syllabus, a story, a structure, a nation, a method, or a metaphysics. S.: That sounds like an improvement. G.: It is at least a use for Clifton. S.: And the final verdict on Ruggiero? G.: That he is not writing the history of philosophy, still less my cherished longitudinal unity, but the concept of history as modern philosophy makes and inherits it; and that my complaint about della storia was less a grammatical discovery than a schoolboy’s revenge on History of England. S.: Dry enough? G.: Sufficiently Cliftonesque, with one concession to Bari. S.: And the punchline? G.: If Clifton taught me History of England and Ruggiero teaches the concept of history, the difference is simply that one made kings memorable, while the other makes memory dangerous. Now, I was told that Ruggiero was especially respected at Oxford in the pre-Ryle, pre-Austin generation, i. e. before England and Italy became enemies after -- when was it, 1940? -- so can you expand on this. Apparently, Ruggiero kept correspondence with Collingwood, perhaps Bosanquet, perhaps others -- there was a whole lot of English philosophers, Carritt, etc. which were pro-Italian even after the 'phoney' war? Please expand Yes — but with two cautions at once. First, the political date is clear enough. Italy entered the war against Britain and France on 10 June 1940. So if one is asking when England and Italy ceased to be merely awkward friends and became enemies in the formal military sense, that is the date. [history.com], [britannica.com] Second, one should be careful not to imagine that Oxford before 1940 was simply “pro-Italian” in some broad sentimental way. What existed, especially in the pre-Ryle, pre-Austin generation, was rather a serious intellectual traffic between British idealists, historians, and liberal-minded philosophers on the one hand, and the Italian idealist world of Croce, Gentile, and De Ruggiero on the other. In that world, Guido De Ruggiero was indeed known and respected in Britain, but not as a household name in the way Croce was. A good modern summary of this says exactly that: in Britain he was known, but not very widely; influential, but not overwhelmingly so; followed, but with no real disciples except perhaps R. G. Collingwood, who still remained very much his own man. [ingentaconnect.com], [brill.com], [Guido de R...h Idealism] So the picture is less “Oxford adored Ruggiero” than “a certain Oxford, especially the idealist and history-minded Oxford before the linguistic turn, took him seriously.” That distinction matters. The relevant people are less the later ordinary-language men than those around British idealism, liberal political philosophy, and the philosophy of history. Collingwood is central here, and his connection with De Ruggiero is not a mere bibliographical accident. The scholarship on Collingwood and the Italian idealists stresses that his relations with Croce, Gentile, and De Ruggiero were substantial enough that one cannot understand his development without them. [brill.com], [Guido de R...h Idealism] Now, on the correspondence point. There is strong archival reason to think Collingwood is the most plausible English interlocutor to look at first. The Bodleian archive of Collingwood is the obvious place to verify whether letters from or to De Ruggiero survive there, and the modern literature on their connection treats that relationship as important, though in the public summaries I have at hand I cannot honestly confirm a specific run of surviving letters without going into the archive descriptions or the detailed scholarship itself. So the careful answer is: correspondence with Collingwood is quite plausible and very likely the first place to investigate, but I would not state it flatly as a fact without checking the archival catalogue or the specialist article. [archives.b...n.ox.ac.uk], [ingentaconnect.com], [brill.com] With Bosanquet, one must be even more cautious. There is certainly an intellectual relationship between De Ruggiero and British idealism broadly conceived, and Bosanquet belongs to that world. But I do not have a confirmed indication in the material here of a direct correspondence between the two, so that should remain a possibility, not a settled claim. The same goes for Carritt: the milieu fits, but one should not populate the correspondence table merely because it looks philosophically well arranged. [ingentaconnect.com] What is absolutely firm is the case of The History of European Liberalism. Collingwood translated it for Oxford University Press in 1927, and that fact alone tells you a great deal about the seriousness with which at least some of Oxford regarded De Ruggiero. This was not a casual foreign curiosity: it was a major liberal text, treated in English as a significant intervention in interwar political thought. Later discussion of its English reception confirms that it became a notable text of liberal theory in Britain, not least because it spoke directly to the crisis of liberalism in the interwar years. [archive.org], [philpapers.org], [books.google.com], [cambridge.org] That helps explain the pre-1940 respect. De Ruggiero was attractive to British readers because he combined several things the older Oxford world could admire: idealist training, historical intelligence, philosophical seriousness, and a liberal political posture that was anti-fascist without being either Marxist or merely journalistic. His History of European Liberalism was read as a serious liberal manifesto for an age in crisis. [philpapers.org], [cambridge.org] So if one asks whether there were English philosophers who remained strongly attached to Italian culture or Italian philosophy even after the political situation darkened, the answer is yes, in the sense that intellectual and personal respect did not vanish overnight in June 1940. Affinities of culture and philosophy do not obey mobilisation orders with military punctuality. But one should distinguish between being “pro-Italian” culturally or philosophically and being politically indulgent toward Fascist Italy. Some older British intellectuals, especially those with idealist or historical interests, certainly retained admiration for Italian thought, Italian civilisation, and individual Italian interlocutors. That is not the same as endorsing Mussolini once the war had made the matter brutally plain. The “phoney war” period, from September 1939 to June 1940 in relation to Italy, allowed some of those ambiguities to persist a little longer because Italy was not yet formally at war with Britain. Once 10 June 1940 arrived, the room for such genteel ambiguity narrowed drastically. [history.com], [britannica.com] So the driest summary would be this. Before the rise of Rylean and Austinian Oxford, Guido De Ruggiero belonged to a real Anglo-Italian philosophical circuit centred on British idealism, liberal thought, and the philosophy of history. He was respected in Britain, though never as famous there as Croce, and his closest serious English connection appears to have been R. G. Collingwood, who translated The History of European Liberalism for Oxford University Press in 1927. There may well have been wider contacts with the older British idealist world, but one should verify specific claims of correspondence, especially with Bosanquet or Carritt, before stating them too confidently. England and Italy became formal enemies on 10 June 1940, but intellectual admiration for Italian philosophy had of course been formed earlier and did not evaporate merely because diplomacy became artillery. [archive.org], [books.google.com], [cambridge.org], [history.com], [britannica.com] If you like, I can next give you either: a compact footnote-style paragraph on Ruggiero and Oxford, or a slightly longer prose note in your dry Oxonian register about why the pre-Ryle generation found him congenial. Grice’s weekly essay assignment: Collingwood translated De Ruggiero’s Storia del liberalismo europeo into English for the Clarendon. Assess whether that was too great a liberty. Typewriting disallowed. Handwriting counts.

Ruggiero, Guido De (1908). Il concetto della storia nella filosofia moderna. Bari: Laterza.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rullio – Ossia: Grice e Rullio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rullio The gens Rullia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. No members of this gens are mentioned in history, but a number are known from inscriptions.  Origin The nomen Rullius is derived from the cognomen Rullus, a beggar. The surname is better known in its derivative form, Rullianus, from Quintus Fabius Maximus Rullianus, one of the greatest statesmen and generals of the Roman Republic, who as a young man defied the orders of the dictator Lucius Papirius Cursor by engaging the enemy while his commander was away, winning a famous victory, but was then obliged to beg the Roman people to spare his life, when Cursor declared it forfeit.[1] Chase classifies Rullius among those gentilicia that either originated at Rome, or cannot be shown to have come from anywhere else.[2]  Praenomina The main praenomina of the Rulii were Gaius and Gnaeus, although there are also instances of Servius and Sextus. Servius was an uncommon name, although not especially rare; it tended to run in families. All of the others were quite common throughout Roman history.  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Rullia, named in an inscription from Tusculum in Latium.[3] Alaucus Rullius, probably a slave, named in an inscription Canusium in Apulia.[4] Servius Rullius C. s., a slave named in an inscription from Canusium.[5] Rullia Ɔ. l. Adepta, a freedwoman, built a tomb at Casilinum in Campania for herself, her husband, Publius Brittius Epicius, and Gaius Rullius Communis, dating to the first half of the first century AD.[6] Rullia Agathe, buried at Rome, with a monument from her husband, Gaius Rullius Felix.[7] Gnaeus Rullius Calais, one of the Seviri Augustales at Aesernia in Samnium, where he built a tomb for himself and his wife, Maria, the slave of Corinthidius.[8] Gnaeus Rullius Ɔ. l. Ceramylla, a freedman buried at Rome, together with Rullia Proposis.[9] Gaius Rullius Ɔ. l. Communis, a freedman buried at Casilinum, in a tomb built by Rullia Adepta.[6] Gaius Rullius Felix, dedicated a tomb at Rome to his wife, Rullia Agathe.[7] Gnaeus Rullius Felix, named among the members of one of the artisanal guilds at Ostia in AD 173.[10] Rullia Sp. f. Galla, buried at Aquileia in Venetia and Histria, in a tomb built by Lucius Cluvius Ingenuus, perhaps her husband.[11] Rullia Inventa, aged twenty, buried at Rome during the second century AD, with a tomb dedicated by her husband, Gaius Arminius Hermes.[12][13] Rullius Lysimachus, named in an inscription from Canusium in Apulia.[14] Rullia C. f. Maximilla, one of the children of Gaius Rullius Maximus, who dedicated a tomb to their father at Vibinum in Apulia.[15] Rullius C. f. Maximus, one of the children of Gaius Rullius Maximus, who dedicated a tomb to their father at Vibinum.[15] Gaius Rullius Maximus, one of the municipal duumvirs at Vibinum, where he was buried with a tomb dedicated by his children, Maximus, Priscus, and Maximilla.[15] Rullius Princeps, named in an inscription from Rome, dating to the first half of the first century AD.[16] Rullius C. f. Priscus, one of the children of Gaius Rullius Maximus, who dedicated a tomb to their father at Vibinum.[15] Sextus Rullius Ɔ. l. Princeps, a freedman, built a tomb at Rome for himself and his family.[17] Rullia Cn. l. Proposis, a freedwoman buried at Rome, together with Gnaeus Rullius Ceramylla.[9] Gaius Rullius Sp. f. Rufus, named in an inscription from Atina in Latium.[18] Rullia Vitalis, together with Maniaca Ursilla and Flavius Niceros, dedicated a late second century tomb at Rome to Ursilla's son, Quintus Vibulenus Arruntianus, a soldier in the fourth cohort of the vigiles at Rome, aged twenty-one, having served in the vigiles for five years and two months.[19] See also List of Roman gentes References  Livy, viii. 31–36.  Chase, pp. 111, 131.  CIL I, 2849.  Grelle & Pani, Le Epigrafi Romane di Canosa, 66.  Grelle & Pani, Le Epigrafi Romane di Canosa, 65.  CIL X, 4319.  CIL VI, 25594.  CIL IX, 2682.  CIL VI, 38841.  CIL XIV, 4565.  CIL V, 1170.  BCAR 1985, 393.  Gregori, Comunale del Celio, 446.  Grelle & Pani, Le Epigrafi Romane di Canosa, 64.  AE 1980, 265.  CIL VI, 5564.  CIL VI, 10339.  AE 1981, 216.  AE 2014, 228. Bibliography Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Bullettino della Commissione Archeologica Comunale in Roma (Bulletin of the Municipal Archaeological Commission of Rome, abbreviated BCAR), (1872–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Francesco Grelle, Mario Pani, Le Epigrafi Romane di Canosa (The Roman Epigraphy of Canusium), Edipuglia, Bari (1985, 1990). Gian Luca Gregori, La collezione epigrafica dell'antiquarium comunale del Celio (The Epigraphic Collection of the Ancient Community of the Caelian Hill), Quasar, Rome (2001). Category: Roman gentes and your first-best choice for a Grice-Speranza vignette from THIS gens? Thanks  

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rullio – Ossia: Grice e Rullio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rullio For the Rulii, my first choice would actually be not one of the attested imperial freedmen, but the shadow cast by the name itself: Grice e Rullio Principe The dossier contains:  Rullius Princeps, known from an inscription at Rome. [GREXv2 | Word]  What attracts me is the cognomen:  Princeps.  Because "princeps" is simultaneously:  a personal name, a social role, and eventually the title of the emperor.  That is almost guaranteed to produce a Gricean exchange about reference and description. The vignette Speranza:  Quis venit? (Who has arrived?)  Grice:  Princeps. (Princeps.)  Speranza:  Imperator? (The emperor?)  Grice:  Non; Rullius Princeps. (No; Rullius Princeps.)  Speranza:  Ergo princeps non est? (Then he is not a princeps?)  Grice:  Nomen est, non officium. (It is a name, not an office.)  +> A descriptive expression may cease to function descriptively and become merely referential. That is pure Grice. My verdict Grice e Rullio Principe Speranza:  Quid significat "Princeps"? (What does "Princeps" mean?)  Grice:  Interdum primum hominem civitatis. (Sometimes the leading man of the state.)  Speranza:  Et hic? (And here?)  Grice:  Hic unum hominem designat. (Here it merely identifies one person.)  Speranza:  Ergo non describit? (So it does not describe him?)  Grice:  Fortasse olim descripsit; nunc nominat. (Perhaps once it described; now it names.)  +> The historical meaning of a word and its current use in reference may diverge. That seems to me the most distinctively Gricean theme available in the rather elusive gens Rullia. [GREXv2 | Word] And re the first, princeps, Grice titled his thing The Principle of Conversational Helpfulness. Principium. Grice thought that principium has to be one -- cf. Gk. arche -- in what way princeps is cognate -- and could it not just mean 'primus' (more elaboratedly?)? Thanks Yes. There is a fascinating distinction here, and I suspect Grice would have enjoyed it. The words are not cognate in the strict etymological sense:  princeps = primus + capere ("the one who takes first place", "the foremost"). It literally means "first man", "leader", "chief". principium is derived from princeps and means "beginning", "starting point", "first principle", "foundation". Historically the noun grows out of the idea of "that which comes first."  So:                      WordBasic ideaprimusfirstprincepsthe first/foremost personprincipiumthe first point, beginning, principle Thus principium is actually closer to Greek ἀρχή (archē) than princeps is. Both archē and principium can mean:  beginning, first principle, governing basis.  Indeed Aristotle's archai are usually translated into Latin as principia.  Now to your Gricean point. When Grice speaks of the Principle of Conversational Helpfulness, he is using principle in the Aristotelian-Latin sense:  a foundational explanatory assumption.  That is very close to:  principium.  And Grice repeatedly stressed that the Cooperative Principle was one principle, from which the maxims are derived. One can imagine: Hardie e Grice Hardie:  Why "Principle" in the singular?  Grice:  Because a principle should be one.  Hardie:  Why?  Grice:  The Greeks had archē.  Hardie:  And Aristotle often seeks a single archē?  Grice:  Precisely.  +> Explanation is ideally unified.  As for Rullius Princeps, I think your instinct is correct. A Roman hearing:  Rullius Princeps  would not normally analyze it via principium. He would hear:  "Rullius the First," "Rullius the Chief," "Rullius the Foremost."  In other words, much closer to primus than to a philosophical principium. Indeed: Speranza:  Cur Princeps appellatur? (Why is he called Princeps?)  Grice:  Quia primus putabatur. (Because he was thought first.)  The philosophical notion:  principium cooperationis colloquialis  is a later abstraction built from the same family of words, but operating at a much higher conceptual level. So the relationship is:  primus → princeps → principium  and Grice's "Principle of Conversational Helpfulness" belongs at the principium/archē end of the chain, whereas Rullius Princeps belongs at the much more concrete "foremost man" end. The connection exists, but through the common notion of priority rather than through any notion of conversation or philosophy. So the idea is that prin-ceps and prin-cipium derive from 'prin' -- first -- and the root of 'cap-' as in caption. With princeps having the theme of that root in the present -- cep- and prin-CIP- having it in the past -- the first 'capted'? Thanks Yes, that's very close to the traditional analysis, though with one refinement. The family is:  primus = first princeps = "first-taker", "the one occupying first place" principium = "beginning", "first point", "first principle"  The second element comes from capio ("take, seize, receive"). The same Indo-European root also lies behind English words such as capture, captive, caption, and receive (via Latin recipere). The interesting feature is exactly the one you noticed:                  FormVerb-baseprincepscap- (present stem of capio)principiumcip- (the weakened form seen in compounds) So Romans would have felt a connection between:  princeps principium  even if they probably did not consciously analyze them every time. The subtlety is that princeps does not really mean "the first captured" (which would suggest a passive idea). Rather it means:  "the one who takes first place," "the foremost," "the leader."  The participial flavour is active. A rough paraphrase would be:  primum capiens ("taking the first position").  By contrast, principium shifts from the person to the starting point:  that which comes first, the point from which something proceeds, the beginning, the principle.  Hence Aristotle's Greek ἀρχή (archē) is usually rendered by Latin principium. Your Gricean observation is therefore attractive: Speranza:  Why is the Cooperative Principle singular?  Grice:  Because a principium should be one.  Hardie:  Like an Aristotelian archē?  Grice:  Precisely.  And then: Speranza:  What of Rullius Princeps?  Grice:  Less a metaphysical principle than a man occupying first place.  The shared idea is priority. The princeps is first among persons; the principium is first among explanations. The common thread is not "capture" but "coming first by taking the lead." well, there's principalis -- and ignorant English speakers who often spell 'principle' as principal'. -- But expand on the cap- root -- you say the prinCIP -- is just the same root in the weakened form and not a passive or past form? Thanks -- if prinCIPium has to take the 'cap-' root ('to take') who or what takes it -- first -- what does the OED or Lewis Short say or wiktionary? Thanks Yes. The crucial point is that -cip- is not a past or passive form of capio. It is the same root in a different phonological shape. Latin has many compounds of capio where the a weakens to i:  capio = I take accipio = I receive (ad-capio) recipio = I take back incipio = I begin (in-capio) principium = connected with primus + a form of capio  So the -cip- in principium is of the same family as the -cip- in incipio. It is not a participle and does not mean "having been taken". Your question is exactly the one that puzzled ancient grammarians and modern etymologists:  If principium contains "taking", who is doing the taking?  The older and more plausible answer is that the original notion is something like:  "the taking of the first position," "that which occupies first place," "the point at which one begins."  Hence the semantic development:                          formrough original senselater senseprincepsone taking first placechief, leaderprincipiumfirst position / starting pointbeginning, principleprincipalispertaining to what is firstprincipal, chief Lewis & Short glosses principium primarily as:  beginning, commencement, origin, and then, in philosophy, first principle, element, source.  That is very close to Greek ἀρχή (archē), which likewise means both:  beginning ruling principle  and can even mean political rule. Aristotle's archai are regularly translated as principia.  Your observation about English principal and principle is excellent. Historically they are cousins:  principal ← principalis ("chief") principle ← principium ("foundation, first principle")  The persistent confusion by English speakers is not wholly irrational, because both words ultimately point back to the same idea:  what comes first.   A Grice–Hardie dialogue might run: Grice:  Sir, if principium contains capio, who is taking what?  Hardie:  No one in particular.  Grice:  Then why the verb?  Hardie:  Because etymology is older than philosophy.  Grice:  So Aristotle's first principle is literally—  Hardie:  Not literally anything. It is a lexical fossil.  Grice:  A dead metaphor?  Hardie:  Precisely.   Ha And that may be the deepest answer. By the time Cicero, Seneca, or a late Roman like Festus used principium, nobody was consciously thinking:  "a thing taking first place."  The word had become an abstract noun meaning:  beginning, source, first principle.  Just as an English speaker using "understand" is not consciously imagining "standing among" things. So I would resist translating principium as "the first capted" or "the first taken." Historically the cap- root is there, but synchronically, even for educated Romans, the living sense was much closer to:  "starting-point," "origin," "fundamental principle."

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rullio – Ossia: Grice e Rullio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rullio  A close second: Rullia Inventa I was also tempted by:  Rullia Inventa, buried at Rome aged twenty. [GREXv2 | Word]  The cognomen Inventa means roughly:  "found".  A philosopher immediately asks:  Found by whom?   Found from what?  The name seems to presuppose a story that the inscription does not tell. Speranza:  Cur vocatur Inventa? (Why is she called Inventa?)  Grice:  Nescimus. (We do not know.)  +> Names often preserve information whose context has been lost. re the second, invent -- Grice did not invent 'implicature' -- he discovered it. Columbus did not discover America; he invented. When did the semantic shift occurred -- already in Latin? Romance, Proto-Romance, Anglo-Norman? Thanks This is a lovely point, and one that Grice himself would have relished. The short answer is:  In classical Latin, invenire already means both "discover" and "invent." [en.wiktionary.org]  The semantic tension is ancient. Latin Lewis & Short (as reflected in the standard lexicographical tradition) gives meanings such as:  find, come upon, discover, ascertain, devise, invent. [en.wiktionary.org]  Thus:  America inventa est.  could, in pure Latin, mean something much closer to:  "America was found/discovered"  than to modern English:  "America was invented."  The underlying image is simply:  invenire = "to come upon." [en.wiktionary.org], [etymonline.com]  Indeed English invent ultimately comes from Latin invenire through French. [en.wiktionary.org], [etymonline.com] The crucial shift The evidence suggests that early English still preserved the older sense. The Online Etymology Dictionary notes that around 1500 invent could mean:  "to find, discover"  (a meaning now obsolete). [etymonline.com] Only later do we find the increasingly familiar senses:  devise, fabricate, create by ingenuity, make up. [etymonline.com], [etymonline.com]  So the shift is not something that happened entirely in Latin. Rather:                              PeriodDominant senseClassical Latin invenirefind, discover, deviseOld French inventerretains overlapMiddle Englishcan still mean discover/findEarly Modern Englishincreasingly "devise, create"Modern Englishoverwhelmingly "create/invent"  [etymonline.com], [en.wiktionary.org], [etymonline.com] Grice's joke Hence your Gricean contrast: Speranza:  Grice invented implicature.  Grice:  No. I discovered it.  The joke works because modern English has largely separated:  discover = find something already there; invent = create something not previously there.  But Latin invenire sat much more comfortably between those two notions. [en.wiktionary.org] Columbus A mischievous Grice might therefore say: Speranza:  Columbus discovered America.  Grice:  In modern English, yes.  Speranza:  In Latin?  Grice:  America inventa est.  Speranza:  Invented?  Grice:  Found.  Ha. So, paradoxically, the semantic distinction on which your joke depends is largely a post-medieval English development. For a Roman, inventio could still be a finding; indeed one famous Christian feast was the Inventio Crucis, the "Finding of the Cross" by Helena—not the "Invention of the Cross" in the modern sense of manufacturing one. [etymonline.com] That feast name is perhaps the best surviving fossil of the older meaning.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rupillio – Ossia: Grice e Rupilio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rupilio The gens Rupilia, occasionally written Rupillia, was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned in the latter part of the Republic, and Publius Rupilius obtained the consulship in 132 BC. Few others achieved any prominence, but the name occurs once or twice in the consular fasti under the Empire. The name is frequently confounded with the similar Rutilius.[1][2]  Praenomina The main praenomina of the Rupilii were Publius and Lucius, two of the most common names throughout Roman history.  Branches and cognomina None of the Rupilii bore cognomina under the Republic, but as with other plebeian families most of them had individual surnames in imperial times.[1]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Publius Rupilius P. f. P. n., a fierce opponent of the Gracchi, became consul in 132 BC, the year after the murder of Tiberius Gracchus, whose followers he persecuted. He brought the First Servile War to a close, then remained in Sicily to reorganize the province, receiving a triumph on his return. He was prosecuted and condemned during the tribunate of Gaius Gracchus in 123, and died soon afterward.[3][4][5][6][7][8] Lucius Rupilius P. f. P. n., brother of Publius Rupilius, the consul, sought the aid of Scipio Aemilianus to obtain the consulship, but was not elected.[9][10] Lucius Rupilius, an actor known to the young Cicero.[11] Aulus Rupilius, a physician employed by Aulus Cluentius Habitus, whose mother, Sassia, bought a slave, Strato, from Rupilius, and had him tortured in the hope of obtaining evidence against her own son. The slave knew nothing of value, and Sassia's scheme came to naught.[12] Publius Rupilius, a man of equestrian rank, was magister of the publicani of Bithynia.[13] Gaius Rupilius, an argentarius, or silversmith, named in an inscription.[14] Lucius Scribonius Libo Rupilius M. f. M. n. Frugi Bonus, consul suffectus, serving from May to August in AD 88. He was the great-grandfather of Marcus Aurelius. His descent from the Rupilii is unclear.[15] Rupilia L. f. M. n. Faustina, the grandmother of Marcus Aurelius, married Marcus Annius Verus.[15] Lucius Rupilius Appianus, one of the septemviri epulones at Brixia in Venetia and Histria.[16] Decimus Rupilius Severus, legate in Lycia and Pamphylia in AD 151, perhaps the same Severus who was consul suffectus at the end of 155.[17][18] Lucius Rupilius Au[...], legate of Sextius Lateranus, proconsul of Africa in AD 176.[19] Quintus Rupilius Q. f. Honoratus, of Mactar in Africa, raised to the equestrian order by Severus Alexander.[20][21] Rupilius Pisonianus, curator at Mactar and Mididi between 290 and 293 AD.[22][21] Rupilius Pisonianus, praefectus vigilum of Rome under Constans Caesar.[23][24] See also List of Roman gentes References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 679 ("Rupilia Gens").  PIR, vol. III, p. 146.  Velleius Paterculus, ii. 7.  Cicero, Laelius de Amicitia, 11, In Verrem, ii. 13, 15, 16, iii. 54, iv. 50, Epistulae ad Atticum, xiii. 32.  Livy, Epitome, 59.  Orosius, v. 9.  Valerius Maximus, ii. 7. § 3, v. 9. § 8, ix. 12. § 1.  Broughton, vol. I, pp. 489, 497, 498.  Cicero, Laelius de Amicitia, 19, 20, 27, Tusculanae Quaestiones, iv. 17.  Broughton, vol. I, p. 493.  Cicero, De Officiis, i. 31.  Cicero, Pro Cluentio, 63.  Cicero, Epistulae ad Familiares, xiii. 9.  Rochette, Lettre à M. Schorn (2nd ed.), p. 399.  Julius Capitolinus, "The Life of Marcus Aurelius", 1, 4.  CIL V, 4352.  CIL VI, 2086.  Eck, "Die Fasti consulares der Regierungszeit des Antoninus Pius".  CIL VIII, 11799.  CIL VIII, 627  PLRE, vol. 1, p. 703.  CIL VIII, 11774, AE 1946, 119  CIL VI, 1157  PLRE, vol. 1, p. 704. Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, De Officiis, Epistulae ad Atticum, Epistulae ad Familiares, In Verrem, Laelius de Amicitia, Pro Cluentio, Tusculanae Quaestiones. Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Marcus Velleius Paterculus, Compendium of Roman History. Valerius Maximus, Factorum ac Dictorum Memorabilium (Memorable Facts and Sayings). Aelius Lampridius, Aelius Spartianus, Flavius Vopiscus, Julius Capitolinus, Trebellius Pollio, and Vulcatius Gallicanus, Historia Augusta (Augustan History). Paulus Orosius, Historiarum Adversum Paganos (History Against the Pagans). Desiré-Raoul Rochette, Lettre à M. Schorn, Firmin Didot Frères, Paris (1832). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952–1986). Werner Eck, "Die Fasti consulares der Regierungszeit des Antoninus Pius, eine Bestandsaufnahme seit Géza Alföldys Konsulat und Senatorenstand" (The Consular Fasti for the Reign of Antoninus Pius: an Inventory since Géza Alföldy's Konsulat und Senatorenstand), in Studia Epigraphica in Memoriam Géza Alföldy, Werner Eck, Bence Fehér, Péter Kovács, eds., Bonn, pp. 69–90 (2013). Jones, A.H.M.; J.R. Martindale & J. Morris (1971–1992). Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire. Cambridge University Press. ISBN 0-521-07233-6. Categories: RupiliiRoman gentes And from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rupillio – Ossia: Grice e Rupilio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rupilio For the Rupilii, my first-best Grice–Speranza vignette would not be the consul himself, but the contrast between the two brothers:  Publius Rupilius, consul, conqueror in Sicily, persecutor of the Gracchans, later prosecuted and condemned. [GREXv2 | Word] Lucius Rupilius, who sought help from Scipio Aemilianus in pursuing the consulship, but failed to obtain it. [GREXv2 | Word]  Why? Because it is a beautiful case of recommendation, influence, and conversational expectation. Grice e Lucio Rupilio Speranza:  Num Scipionem rogavit ut consul fieret? (Did he ask Scipio's help to become consul?)  Grice:  Ita. (Yes.) [GREXv2 | Word]  Speranza:  Et consul factus est? (And did he become consul?)  Grice:  Non. (No.) [GREXv2 | Word]  Speranza:  Quid igitur valuit auctoritas Scipionis? (Then what was the value of Scipio's influence?)  Grice:  Aliud est commendari, aliud eligi. (It is one thing to be recommended, another to be elected.)  +> An endorsement raises expectations without guaranteeing outcomes.  This is very Gricean. If someone says:  "Scipio supports Lucius Rupilius,"  a hearer is tempted to infer:  +> therefore Lucius will succeed.  But the inference is defeasible. The recommendation conveys something, but not everything.  There is also a delightful parallel with modern academic life. Hardie e Grice Hardie:  Scipio promoted Lucius Rupilius.  Grice:  And he still lost?  Hardie:  Yes.  Grice:  Then references are less powerful than advertised.  Hardie:  Mr. Grice, a testimonial is not a magical incantation. Ha.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rupillio – Ossia: Grice e Rupilio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rupilio A close second would be Aulus Rupilius, the physician whose slave was tortured in the affair described by Cicero. The whole episode turns on a mistaken expectation that torture would reveal useful information, whereas in fact the slave knew nothing. [GREXv2 | Word] But my favourite remains: Grice e Lucio Rupilio non consule Speranza:  Scipio pro te locutus est? (Did Scipio speak on your behalf?)  Lucius Rupilius:  Locutus est. (He did.)  Speranza:  Et quid consecutus es? (And what did you obtain?)  Lucius Rupilius:  Nihil. (Nothing.)  Grice:  Ergo inter auctoritatem et effectum distinguitur. (Therefore one must distinguish influence from result.)  +> Evidence for a conclusion is not the same thing as a guarantee of that conclusion. That seems to me the most characteristically Gricean lesson in the gens Rupilia. [GREXv2 | Word] Re: the slave -- Grice indeed adapted Urmson's example of bribery as his first alleged counterexample to the sufficiency of his analysandum of meaning-nn (non-natural). The 'torturer' means the torturee to tell that p, but it it is not the case that the torturer means that the torture is to tell. Grice gives as common ground that the torturer assumes the torturee knows. Can we expand on Cicero's case? Thanks Yes—this is, I think, the most Gricean figure among the Rupilii. The dossier tells us only that Aulus Rupilius was a physician, that Sassia purchased his slave Strato, tortured him, hoping to obtain evidence against her son Aulus Cluentius Habitus, and that the slave in fact knew nothing useful. Cicero presents the scheme as a failure. [GREXv2 | Word] Now compare that with Grice's famous discussion of Urmson's examples. Grice's point Suppose a torturer says:  "Tell them that p!"  The torturer certainly intends that the victim utter the sentence "p". But Grice argues that this is not yet a case of meaning-nn ("non-natural meaning"). Why? Because the torturer's plan depends on force, not on recognition of communicative intention. The victim need not be persuaded. The victim need not believe. The victim need not even know whether p. The torturer merely wants the words produced.  Cicero's case is different What makes the Rupilius-Strato episode especially interesting is that Sassia seems to have assumed that Strato possessed information. [GREXv2 | Word] Her reasoning appears to be:  Strato knows something. Torture will reveal it. The revelation will damage Cluentius.  But:  Strato knew nothing. [GREXv2 | Word]  So the episode fails at stage (1).  Hardie and Grice Hardie:  How did Sassia's scheme fail?  Grice:  The slave lacked the requisite epistemic state.  Hardie:  English, Mr. Grice.  Grice:  He knew nothing.   Ha  A Gricean reconstruction Sassia:  Dic quid scis. (Tell what you know.)  Strato:  Nihil scio. (I know nothing.)  Sassia:  Torquete. (Torture him.)  Strato:  Nunc quoque nihil scio. (I still know nothing.)  +> Coercion may alter willingness to speak but cannot create knowledge. That last proposition is almost the moral of the story.  Relation to Grice's theory The torture case is philosophically richer than the simple Urmsonian example. The torturer in Grice needs only:  victim says p.  Sassia requires much more:  victim knows p, victim says p, p is true, p incriminates Cluentius.  The whole enterprise presupposes an informational chain. But Cicero's punchline is that the chain breaks immediately because the slave possesses no information. [GREXv2 | Word]  A final Grice–Speranza vignette Speranza:  Can torture produce truth?  Grice:  Sometimes it may produce utterances.  Speranza:  And truth?  Grice:  Only if there is truth already present to be produced.  Speranza:  And Strato?  Grice:  Nihil sciebat. (He knew nothing.) [GREXv2 | Word]  +> Force can change what a person is willing to say; it cannot by itself supply the knowledge that would make the saying informative. That, I think, is exactly the point that would have attracted Grice. The failure of Sassia's scheme is not moral first, but epistemological first. The slave has no relevant knowledge; therefore no amount of coercion can generate the evidence she wants. [GREXv2 | Word] So can we re-set Grice's example in Cicero's terms -- what's Cicero's source -- Grice is interested in the description of the agent's (torture) action -- irrespective of whether response or effect is produced. Cicero keeps going. Thanks ALLEGED COUNTEREXAMPLES DIRECTED AGAINST THE SUFFICIENCY OF THE SUGGESTED ANALYSANS (i) (Urmson) There is a range of examples connected with the provision by U (the utterer) of an inducement, or supposed inducement, so that A (the recipient, or audience) shall perform some action. Suppose a prisoner of war to be thought by his captors to possess some information which they want him to reveal; he knows that they want him to give this information. They subject him to torture by applying thumbscrews. The appropriate analysans for "They meant something by applying the thumbscrews (that he should tell them what they wanted to know)" are fulfilled: They applied the thumbscrews with the intention of producing a certain response on the part of the victim; They intended that he should recognize (know, think) that they applied the thumbscrews with the intention of producing this response; They intended that the prisoner's recognition (thought) that they had the intention mentioned in (2) should be at least part of his reason for producing the response mentioned. *J. O. Urmson, in conversation. If in general to specify in (1) the nature of an intended response is to specify what was meant, it should be correct not only to say that the torturers meant something by applying the thumb-screws, but also to say that they meant that he should (was to) tell them what they wished to know. But in fact one would not wish to say either of these things; only that they meant him to tell. A similar apparent counterexample can be constructed out of a case of bribery (Urmson's original example). A restriction seems to be required, and one which might serve to eliminate this range of counterexamples can be identified from a comparison of the two following examples: (a) I go into a tobacconist's shop, ask for a packet of my favorite cigarettes, and when the unusually suspicious tobacconist shows that he wants to see the color of my moncy before he hands over the goods, I put down the price of the cigarettes on the counter. Here nothing has been meant. (b) I go to my regular tobacconist (from whom I also purchase other goods) for a packet of my regular brand X, the price of which is distinctive (say 43 cents). I say nothing, but put down 43 cents. The tobacconist recognizes my need, and hands over the packet. Here, I think, by putting down 43 cents I meant something--namely, that I wanted a packet of brand X. I have at the same time provided an inducement. The distinguishing feature of the second example seems to be that here the tobacconist recognized, and was intended to recognize, what he was intended to do from my "utterance" (my putting down the money), whereas in the first example this was not the case. Nor is it the case with respect to the torture example. So one might propose that the analysis of meaning be amended accordingly (Redefinition I): "U meant something by uttering *" is true iff: (I) U intended, by uttering x, to induce a certain response in A (2) U intended A to recognize, at least in part from the utterance of x, that U intended to produce that response 2) U intended the fulfllment of the intention mentioned ir (2) to be at least in part A's reason for fulfilling the intention mentioned in (1). 153 While this might cope with this range of counterexamples, there are others for which it is insufficient. Yes. The beauty of your suggestion is that Cicero's case lets us separate two questions that are often run together:  What does the torturer mean by his action? (Grice's question) Does the victim actually possess the information? (Cicero's question)  Grice is interested mainly in (1). Cicero is interested mainly in (2). Grice's reconstruction In Urmson's example, the captors believe:  The prisoner knows that p.  They apply the thumbscrews. They intend:  that he tell them that p.  The interesting Gricean point is that even if all the intention conditions are satisfied, we still hesitate to say:  "By applying the thumbscrews they meant that p."  We say only:  "They meant him to tell them."  The action is directive, not communicative.  Cicero's version The story in Pro Cluentio is roughly: Sassia:  Strato knows something damaging about Cluentius.  Sassia:  If tortured, he will reveal it.  Cicero:  He knew nothing. [GREXv2 | Word]  So Cicero's attack is epistemological. The whole scheme presupposes:  Strato knows.  But Strato does not. Therefore torture produces nothing useful. [GREXv2 | Word]  Recasting Urmson in Cicero's setting One can imagine Grice rewriting the example: Version A: Grice's concern Sassia:  Dic quod scis. (Tell what you know.)  Strato:  Timeo. (I am afraid.)  Sassia:  Torquete eum. (Torture him.)  The philosophical question:  What does Sassia mean by the torture?  Answer:  She means him to tell.  But not:  She means that p.  Because the torture is intended to induce speech, not convey a proposition.  Version B: Cicero's concern Sassia:  Dic quod scis. (Tell what you know.)  Strato:  Nihil scio. (I know nothing.)  Sassia:  Torquete eum. (Torture him.)  Strato:  Nunc quoque nihil scio. (I still know nothing.)  The philosophical question:  Can torture generate information?  Answer:  No.  Because information was not there to start with.  A Hardie–Grice exchange Hardie:  Cicero and Grice are discussing different things.  Grice:  Explain.  Hardie:  Cicero asks: "Did the slave know?"  Grice:  And I ask?  Hardie:  "What did the torturer mean by torturing?"  Grice:  Ah.  Hardie:  Cicero attacks the factual premise. You attack the semantic inference.  Grice:  Excellent.   Indeed one might say:  Cicero's moral: torture cannot extract knowledge that is absent.  while  Grice's moral: torture can be intended to produce an utterance without constituting a case of meaning-nn.  Those are different points, though they fit together beautifully in the Strato episode. Cicero keeps insisting that the slave lacked the knowledge; Grice would keep insisting that, even if the slave had possessed it, the torture itself would not thereby become an act of communicating that proposition. [GREXv2 | Word] Grice seems forced to use 'mean' just to appease Urmson -- who presents it as an alleged counterexample to meaning-nn--so Grice ends up saying that the torturer (Sassia) -- it is not the case that she means that p -- it is not the case, either, more specifically that Strato is to tell (or should tell) Sassia what she wishes to know -- it is only the case that Sassia means Strato to tell what she wishes to know -- regardless of whether he knows or not. Grice: "There is a range of examples connected with the provision by U (the utterer) of an inducement, or supposed inducement, so that A (the recipient, or audience) shall perform some action. Suppose a prisoner of war to be thought by his captors to possess some information which they want him to reveal; he knows that they want him to give this information. They subject him to torture by applying thumbscrews. The appropriate analysans for "They meant something by applying the thumbscrews (that he should tell them what they wanted to know)" are fulfilled: They applied the thumbscrews with the intention of producing a certain response on the part of the victim; They intended that he should recognize (know, think) that they applied the thumbscrews with the intention of producing this response; They intended that the prisoner's recognition (thought) that they had the intention mentioned in (2) should be at least part of his reason for producing the response mentioned. *J. O. Urmson, in conversation. If in general to specify in (1) the nature of an intended response is to specify what was meant, it should be correct not only to say that the torturers meant something by applying the thumb-screws, but also to say that they meant that he should (was to) tell them what they wished to know. But in fact one would not wish to say either of these things; only that they meant him to tell. A similar apparent counterexample can be constructed out of a case of bribery (Urmson's original example). A restriction seems to be required, and one which might serve to eliminate this range of counterexamples can be identified from a comparison of the two following examples: (a) I go into a tobacconist's shop, ask for a packet of my favorite cigarettes, and when the unusually suspicious tobacconist shows that he wants to see the color of my moncy before he hands over the goods, I put down the price of the cigarettes on the counter. Here nothing has been meant. (b) I go to my regular tobacconist (from whom I also purchase other goods) for a packet of my regular brand X, the price of which is distinctive (say 43 cents). I say nothing, but put down 43 cents. The tobacconist recognizes my need, and hands over the packet. Here, I think, by putting down 43 cents I meant something--namely, that I wanted a packet of brand X. I have at the same time provided an inducement. The distinguishing feature of the second example seems to be that here the tobacconist recognized, and was intended to recognize, what he was intended to do from my "utterance" (my putting down the money), whereas in the first example this was not the case. Nor is it the case with respect to the torture example. So one might propose that the analysis of meaning be amended accordingly (Redefinition I): "U meant something by uttering *" is true iff: (I) U intended, by uttering x, to induce a certain response in A (2) U intended A to recognize, at least in part from the utterance of x, that U intended to produce that response 2) U intended the fulfllment of the intention mentioned ir (2) to be at least in part A's reason for fulfilling the intention mentioned in (1). 153 While this might cope with this range of counterexamples, there are others for which it is insufficient." Thanks Yes, I think your reading gets very close to what is bothering Grice in this passage. The crucial point is that Grice is being dragged into the vocabulary of "meaning" by Urmson's counterexample. Left to himself, he would probably have said:  The torturers intended him to tell.  and stopped there. The philosophical puzzle arises because his original analysans threatens to imply something stronger:  The torturers meant something by the thumbscrews.  and, more specifically,  The torturers meant that he should tell them what they wished to know.  Grice's reaction is:  But we do not say that. We only say that they meant him to tell.  That distinction is doing enormous work. Three constructions Grice is implicitly distinguishing: 1. "U means that p." This is genuine meaning-nn. For example:  By saying "There is smoke", U meant that there was a fire nearby.  A proposition is communicated. 2. "U means that A should do X." Still potentially meaning-nn. For example:  By pointing to the door, U meant that A should leave.  The audience is supposed to recognize the communicative intention and act accordingly. 3. "U means A to do X." This is the odd one. For example:  Sassia meant Strato to confess. The torturers meant the prisoner to speak.  This is not obviously communicative at all. It is closer to:  intended, wanted, aimed at getting.  And that, I think, is exactly why Grice wants the example excluded.  Cicero's version sharpens the distinction In Cicero's story, Sassia purchases and tortures the slave Strato>, hoping to obtain evidence against her son Cluentius. Cicero insists that Strato knew nothing useful. [GREXv2 | Word] Notice that Grice can ignore Cicero's main point. Even if Strato had known everything Sassia hoped he knew, Grice's objection would remain. For Grice's question is not:  Did Strato know?  but:  What kind of act is torture?  His answer:  It is an inducement.  not  a communicative act.   Why Grice needs the tobacconist The tobacconist example is designed precisely to isolate the difference. In the suspicious tobacconist case:  I put down money.  The tobacconist responds because:  money is an inducement.  No meaning-nn is involved. In the regular tobacconist case:  I put down exactly 43 cents.  The tobacconist recognizes:  "Ah, he wants his usual brand."  Now recognition of intention enters. Meaning-nn appears. The physical action may look similar in both cases; the explanatory structure differs.  A Cicero–Grice reconstruction One can almost imagine: Sassia:  Torquete Stratonem. (Torture Strato.)  Grice:  What do you mean by that?  Sassia:  I mean him to tell me.  Grice:  Not what do you mean him to do. What do you mean by tormenting him?  Sassia:  ...  And that silence is exactly Grice's point. The torture may be intended to produce speech. But it does not thereby become an act of telling, informing, asserting, requesting, warning, or communicating.  Hardie's verdict Hardie:  Why is Urmson's example troublesome?  Grice:  Because my original formula mistakes inducement for communication.  Hardie:  And Sassia?  Grice:  She means Strato to speak.  Hardie:  Does she mean that Strato should speak?  Grice:  Not by the torture itself.  Hardie:  Does she mean anything by the thumbscrews?  Grice:  That is precisely what I deny.  That, I think, is the heart of the passage. The slave's actual knowledge, so important to Cicero, is almost accidental to Grice's purpose. Grice is interested in the description of the torturer's action. His claim is that coercing someone into producing an utterance is not yet the same as communicating a proposition, even when all the overt intention conditions seem, at first glance, to be satisfied.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La conversazione – i verbali: Rusca; ossia: Grice e Rusca: la ragione conversazionale dell’apollo lizeo – lizio – lizeo – I viali dei giardini dell’apollo lizio – lizeo – Apollo in riposo. Note sul Trattato della vera dottrina della fede. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Pietro Martire Rusca (Venezia, Veneto): la ragione conversazionale dell’apollo lizeo – lizio – lizeo – I viali dei giardini dell’apollo lizio – lizeo – Apollo in riposo –Studia filosofia. Vicario generale di Padova della congregazione del S. Uffizio. Ricopre quindi il ruolo d’inquisitore. Scrive “Syllogistica methodus”; “De caelesti substantia”; “De fabulis palaestini stagni ad aures Aristotelis peripateticorum principis” e l’ “Epitome theologica”. Vescovo di Caorle. Uno dei presuli che più si spese per le necessità della sua diocesi. È infatti ricordato per gl’mponenti restauri della cattedrale che volle fossero eseguiti per salvare l'edificio dall'imminente rovina. Durante questi restauri ricopre il soffitto della cattedrale con stucchi e da all'edificio una struttura barocca. La ri-consacrarla, apponendo alle pareti XII croci in cotto. Inoltre, fa completare la realizzazione dei nuovi reliquiari per le insigne reliquie dei santi patroni (Stefano proto-martire, Margherita di Antiochia, e Gilberto di Sempringham) e provvide al rinforzo della struttura del campanile. Al completamento di tutti i lavori, vuole che alle solenni celebrazioni presenziassero musici provenienti da Venezia. A memoria di tutto ciò, resta la lapide, affisse alla parete sinistra del duomo. DEO OPTIMO. MAXIMO LÆVITÆ STEPHANO PROTO-MARTYRI FR·PETRVS MARTYR RVSCA EPVS CONSECRAVIT MARINO VIZZAMANO PRÆTORE. Ricordato per la sua premura nel risollevare le sorti economiche. Ri-pristina  la mensa episcopale e provvide al sostentamento dei sacerdoti istituendone la confraternità. Si adopera per correggere i comportamenti dei fedeli e dei sacerdoti stessi. Fa erigere nella cattedrale un altare dedicato a S. Antonio di Padova. In Duomo a Caorle resta la pala d'altare di S. Antonio con la lapide, affissa alla parete destra dove sorgeva l'altare, che recita: Syllogistica methodus, “Aures Aristotelis peripateticorum principis”; “Defensionem Vestigationum Peripateticum”, il liceo fuori dal liceo.  Grice: Ho appena incrociato il filosofo Speranza—e mi ha detto che in Veneto perfino Apollo, per riposarsi, pretende un’etimologia in regola. Rusca: Giusto: qui non abbiamo solo un dio, abbiamo un epiteto con il suo viale, il suo giardino e la sua lapide. “Lizio” è quasi un indirizzo postale: Apollo, interno Lizeo. Grice: Esatto… e qui viene l’implicatura (che non dirò). “Lizio” è una derivazione quasi naturale dal greco Λύκειον: l’orecchio italiano taglia, accorcia, mette in riga—e voilà, nasce il “lizio”. Però concedo che, come epiteto di Apollo, Λύκειος è un caso scivoloso: può rinviare al Liceo come luogo, o a un’altra storia (lupo, luce, Lycia)—forse non un altro senso, ma quasi un altro lessema travestito da parente. Rusca: La tua implicatura è lizia, come la chiamerebbe Speranza: pulita, elegante, eppure abbastanza veneziana da far finta che sia “naturale”. Ma ammettiamolo: basta la parentela analogica di “lizio” per farci over-implicare tutto—luogo, epiteto, scuola, giardino, e perfino il riposo di Apollo—e anche un griceiano finisce per scambiare un taglio fonetico per una teoria della civiltà. Però funziona: qui, se non puoi dimostrarlo, lo lizi. Rusca, Pietro Martire (1607). Trattato della vera dottrina della fede. Milano: Pietro Martire Locarno.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La conversazione – i verbali: Rusconi – ossia: Grice e Rusconi: la ragione conversazionale dell’attacco e contro-attacco – la romanitas di Tertulliano. Note sulla critica sociologica. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Gian Enrico Rusconi (Meda, Monza e Branzia, Lombardia): la ragione conversazionale dell’attacco e contro-attacco – la romanitas di Tertulliano. Insegna a Trento e Torino. “La teoria critica della società” -- Istituto storico italo-germanico. Altre saggi: “Crisi di sistema e sconfitta operaia” (Einaudi); “Scambio, minaccia, decisione”; “Sociologia politica (Mulino); “Se cessiamo di essere una nazione” (Mulino), in cui ripercorre il dibattito sul concetto di nazione – “la nazione italiana”; “Resistenza e post-fascismo” (Il Mulino); “Come se Dio non ci fosse” (Einaudi), “Italia – lo stato di potenza, la potenza civile” (Einaudi); “Cefalonia: quando gl’italiani si battono” (Gli struzzi  Einaudi); “L'azzardo” (Mulino); “Cavour: fra liberalismo e cesarismo” (Il Mulino); “Cosa resta” (Laterza); “Seduzione” (Feltrinelli ); “Attacco” (Mulino). romanità, italianità, il concetto di nazione in Hegel, “God save the queen” – the national anthem – l’inno nazionale  Grice: Ho appena salutato il filosofo Speranza: sostiene che in Italia perfino la polemica ha un passaporto—e si chiama romanitas. Rusconi: Non è male come definizione. In Tertulliano la romanità è un’arma: attacco e contro-attacco, ma anche disciplina—quasi una teoria della nazione prima della parola “nazione”. Grice: Già—e qui viene l’implicatura (che non dirò). La romanitas di Tertulliano è un contra-attacco che nasce da un attacco a difesa: lo attaccano perché non sarebbe abbastanza romano, e lui risponde diventando più romano della Roma che lo accusa—come se la difesa fosse già offensiva, e l’offensiva già una difesa. Rusconi: La tua implicatura è un contra-contra-attacco senza essere una difesa, come Speranza concorderà: perché qui l’“attacco” è già risposta, e la “risposta” è già strategia. Il rischio—anche per un Griceiano—è che l’unificazione analogica faccia il resto e noi si finisca per vedere contrattacchi ovunque: nella romanitas, nella italianità, perfino in “God save the queen”. Ma va bene così: meglio over-implicare che sotto-capire. So without preamble or ps provide a 100-move conversation as G browses though this 1962 piece and is reminded -- the conversation is between G. and S., no preamble or ps -- and G. is reminded immediately of THE Adorno, he likes, the historian of philosophy. Sicilian born, but of Ligurian stock, as indeed Theodor. And G. and S. discuss the 'critica sociologica' and what it may mean -- Gellner, S. says -- Gellner had made his career into the travesty of what G. and S. are doing at Oxford -- is that critica sociologica. So G. adds classical education -- poverty annuls education. If classical education is the way to elite and establishment, let us promote it. But G. is not sure it is. And they discuss Oxford and Bologna, and the public school as Clifton and a collegio versus a mere day-school liceo, and the crtiica sociologica again. With dry humour and back to Rusconi, and the Adornos, etc. thank you. G.: Rusconi in 1962, then. One opens the thing and immediately smells Adorno. S.: Theodor or the Sicilian? G.: Both, inconveniently. Theodor at once, because anything called critica sociologica arrives with Frankfurt in its lapel. But also the Italian Adorno, the historian of philosophy, Sicilian by birth and Ligurian by stock, which is already a small seminar in European misplacement. S.: As indeed Theodor himself, by another route. G.: Precisely. One does not get much modern thought without railway timetables and family migrations. S.: Then the title itself is enough to set you off. G.: La critica sociologica di Theodor W. Adorno. Yes. It sounds almost too proper for what it contains. S.: And what does it contain, on your first sniff? G.: A young Italian discovering that critique need not merely discuss society but may itself become a social performance. S.: Which sounds ominously close to Gellner. G.: Exactly where one ought to become cautious. Gellner made a career of turning sociological criticism into a travelling parody of philosophy. S.: A parody of what you and I are doing at Oxford? G.: A travesty, if you please. He liked to tell one that a doctrine was really the expression of a social arrangement, and then behaved as if he had thereby done the philosophy. S.: Which is rather like saying that a don wears tweed and therefore refuting him. G.: Quite. Sociology can be wonderfully enlightening until it mistakes exposure for argument. S.: Then what might critica sociologica mean in Rusconi, if not merely that? G.: At its best, something more serious. Not that philosophy dissolves into social location, but that concepts are not born in vacuum flasks. S.: So critique would ask how forms of thought live in institutions, classes, habits, publics. G.: Yes. And how they return to shape them. That, at any rate, is the respectable version. S.: While the vulgar version says only: he says that because he belongs to them. G.: Exactly. The vulgar sociologist is a gossip with footnotes. S.: Which is a type not unknown at Oxford. G.: Nor excluded by the fellowship system. S.: Then Rusconi is reading Adorno against what Italian background? G.: Against the postwar appetite for theory, against Croce’s long shadow, against Marxist seriousness, against the German temptation as imported into Italian categories. S.: And you immediately divide the Adornos in your head. G.: I do. One cannot help it. There is Theodor, the dialectician with a piano in the next room, and the Italian Adorno, the historian of philosophy, whom Oxford forgets because Oxford forgets many useful Europeans if they do not arrive as Germans. S.: And the Sicilian-Ligurian fact pleases you. G.: Immensely. It is the sort of genealogy that saves one from national neatness. S.: As though philosophy itself were always a mixed stock. G.: It generally is. Purity in philosophy is often a clerical fantasy. S.: Then tell me about critica sociologica in a way that does not become Gellnerite. G.: The difference is between saying that thought has social conditions and saying that thought is nothing but a social symptom. S.: The first is true and the second lazy. G.: Admirably compressed. S.: Thank you. G.: Do not become sociological about your own success. S.: Never knowingly. But where does classical education come in? G.: Ah, there is the old educational itch. If poverty annuls education, then the temptation is to say: give the poor classics, and they may enter the elite through the proper gate. S.: A very Clifton solution. G.: Or a very old one. Greek and Latin as passports to establishment, with a side order of moral grammar. S.: You are not wholly convinced. G.: No. Because one must ask whether classical education admits one to the establishment or merely trains one to admire its furniture. S.: That is severe. G.: Accurate enough to be worth the severity. Classics can emancipate the mind, but they can also polish deference. S.: Then why did it work for some? G.: Because any difficult discipline can become a ladder, especially when scarce and prestigious. But ladders are not the same as justice. S.: And public schools knew the difference badly. G.: Public schools often knew very well what they were doing and simply preferred not to discuss it. S.: Clifton, for instance. G.: Clifton taught one Latin and hierarchy with equal fluency. S.: And a collegio in Italy? G.: Not the same creature at all. A collegio can be residential, disciplinary, clerical, civic, or merely educational according to century and city. One must not equate it too quickly with the English public school. S.: While a liceo is still less the same. G.: Quite. A liceo is a day school with a grand etymology and no chapel tyranny in the English sense. S.: Though you like that liceo makes the schoolboy sound peripatetic. G.: The etymology flatters the reality, as it often does in education. S.: So Bologna and Oxford enter here too. G.: Naturally. Bologna represents the chair, the faculty, the syllabus, the common examination, the public academic frame. Oxford represents tutorial intimacy, private terror, and institutional understatement. S.: That is not flattering to Oxford. G.: It is accurate in the way Oxford least enjoys. S.: Then Rusconi at Bologna or Turin is formed in a world unlike your own. G.: Very unlike. More public, more civic, more syllabus-driven, less dependent on the weekly essay and the private mortification of the tutee. S.: Yet you always insist that the tutorial had advantages. G.: Immense ones, when the tutor had a mind and the pupil had courage. But it also confined thought to a narrow staircase. S.: Godot again. G.: Godot always returns when stairs are involved. S.: Then is critica sociologica more likely in Bologna than Oxford? G.: As a genre, yes. Bologna and the Italian university more easily sustain thought about institutions because they themselves present themselves institutionally. Oxford prefers to pretend that intellect occurs in persons and colleges and somehow not in structures. S.: Which is itself a structure. G.: Naturally. The most effective institutions are often those that deny being institutional. S.: You are sounding dangerously Frankfurtian. G.: Only moderately. I do not smoke enough for the full effect. S.: Then what would Adorno, Theodor, think of public schools? G.: He would probably regard them as factories of cultivated obedience with musical side-effects. S.: And you? G.: I should say they are elaborate machines for making boys feel chosen and uneasy at once. S.: That sounds about right. G.: It often was. Which is why classical education there could function as both liberation and enclosure. S.: And poverty? G.: Poverty annuls education not only by deprivation of books or time, but by making the whole educational game seem written by others. S.: So merely handing Homer to the poor is not enough. G.: Certainly not. Homer without institutions of entry is tourism. S.: And institutions of entry are exactly what sociological critique notices. G.: Yes, when it is being intelligent. It asks not just what is taught, but under what conditions teaching becomes conversion into a public. S.: Then Rusconi, reading Adorno, is asking how critique addresses a social whole rather than merely a doctrine. G.: Precisely. Critique of society, not only critique within society. S.: Which explains why “critica sociologica” is not just a label for a method but a claim about scope. G.: Very good. It says that social arrangements are not mere background but object and medium of thought. S.: And Gellner’s mistake was to make that into a sort of intellectual mugging. G.: Excellent. He often treated philosophical positions as class accents wearing abstract nouns. S.: Which is amusing once and tiresome by lunch. G.: Exactly. One wants sociology to illuminate argument, not replace it with cleverness. S.: Then would you say Rusconi escapes that? G.: In embryo, yes. There is seriousness there, a sense that theory has social traction. He has not yet become a headline machine. S.: Unlike later public intellectuals. G.: Some of whom begin as readers and end as brands. S.: You say that as if Oxford had none. G.: Oxford specialises in unbranded brands. S.: Then why does the piece remind you so strongly of the historian Adorno as well? G.: Because the phrase “critica sociologica” can sound as though one were mapping an intellectual tradition rather than merely joining a German one. It awakens the old habit of arranging doctrines historically, which the Italian Adorno did so well. S.: So there is in you a resistance to treating Theodor as simply the only Adorno worth naming. G.: Entirely. Surnames should not be monopolies. S.: Like Roman gentes. G.: Precisely. One ought not permit a single glamorous bearer to annex the whole nomen. S.: Very Speranzian. G.: Civilisation has its uses. S.: Then let us return to schools. You contrasted collegio and liceo. Where does the public school sit? G.: In the strange English place where private institutions call themselves public and proceed to shape the governing class. S.: A sociological joke that wrote itself. G.: Yes. Foreigners find it funny. Englishmen call it tradition. S.: And Clifton gave you classics as establishment grammar. G.: It gave me them as bread and butter, punishment and privilege, social code and intellectual toy. S.: That sounds almost affectionate. G.: One may be exact without being ungrateful. But gratitude is not analysis. S.: No. Analysis would ask who could afford such affection. G.: Exactly. The scholarship boy and the well-born boy do not receive the same Latin from the same lesson. S.: Even if the declension is identical. G.: Especially then. Equal grammar can mask unequal social consequence. S.: Which is again the respectable core of sociological criticism. G.: Well seen. The point is not that nouns are class-biased by nature, but that access, confidence, accent, and institutional destiny inflect their use. S.: Then “classical education as route to the elite” is only partly true. G.: Yes. It is true enough to keep reformers hopeful and false enough to keep the elite comfortable. S.: Beautifully put. G.: Keep it and improve the malice. S.: Happily. Now, Oxford versus Bologna again. Which better resists sociological criticism? G.: Oxford, because it individualises and miniaturises everything. It turns structures into persons, doctrines into conversations, and power into manners. S.: Whereas Bologna leaves the structure visible. G.: More visible, yes. Chairs, faculties, curricula, public examinations, ministerial shadows, all the apparatus. S.: Then Oxford invites philosophy and hides sociology. G.: Exactly. Bologna invites sociology and threatens philosophy with public solemnity. S.: You make both sound defective. G.: They are both educational arrangements, which is another way of saying human compromises. S.: Then if Rusconi is reading Adorno in 1962, he is also reading Italy after fascism and after resistance. G.: Of course. One does not write “critica sociologica” in 1962 from nowhere. The whole Italian postwar question of society, ideology, nation, labour, state, and culture stands behind it. S.: Which later books will make explicit. G.: Yes. But the young piece already smells of the future. One can hear the seriousness about system, crisis, social totality, and public forms. S.: You like that seriousness. G.: I do, though I do not always like its wardrobe. S.: Frankfurt tailoring? G.: Precisely. One can be right in a tie too dark for daylight. S.: Then what would you tell a student reading this piece? G.: First, do not confuse sociological criticism with sociological reduction. Second, do not assume critique is profound merely because it names society. Third, notice how the educational and institutional question hovers behind the prose. S.: And fourth? G.: Read both Adornos. Civilisation owes that much to surnames. S.: Dry as ever. G.: I am trying to remain employable. S.: That is itself a sociological motive. G.: Exactly why one ought not mention it in print. S.: Then perhaps the deepest connection between Rusconi and your own Oxford reflections is this: both ask how forms of thought become possible in institutions that pretend to be neutral. G.: Very good indeed. The liceo, the collegio, the public school, the faculty, the tutorial, the lecture hall, the journal article, the review essay, all are forms of permitted thought before they become objects of it. S.: Which means that critique begins closer to the timetable than philosophers like to admit. G.: Often. The timetable is metaphysics in administrative dress. S.: That is excellent. G.: Keep it, but do not blame me when the administrators dislike it. S.: I should never dream of depriving you of your own consequences. G.: A dangerous principle. S.: A sociological one. G.: Heaven help us. S.: Then let us close with the two Adornos once more. G.: Very well. Theodor reminds us that critique must not flatter the world it inhabits. The Italian Adorno reminds us that traditions are more crowded than our textbooks allow. S.: And Rusconi in 1962 stands between them. G.: Yes. Young enough to be discovering a vocabulary, serious enough not yet to be performing one. S.: Which is perhaps the best moment in a critic. G.: Often is. Before the method becomes a calling card and after reading has begun to hurt. S.: And the punchline? G.: If critica sociologica means only that schools produce elites, Clifton knew it already; if it means asking what kind of society has to call a private school public, then one may finally be getting somewhere.Rusconi, Gian Enrico (1962). La critica sociologica. Vita e Pensiero.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rusonio – Ossia: Grice e Rusonio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rusonio The gens Rusonia was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Hardly any members of this gens are mentioned in history, but several are known from inscriptions.  Origin The nomen Rusonius belongs to a class of gentilicia formed primarily from cognomina ending in -o, in this case Ruso, of uncertain meaning.[1]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Lucius Rusonius, named in an inscription from Nicopolis ad Istrum in Moesia Inferior.[2] Gaius Rusonius Adjutor, a soldier serving in the fifth cohort of the vigiles, in the century of Publius Aelius Septimius Romulus, at the beginning of the third century.[3] Gaius Rusonius P. l. Chrestus, a freedman named in an inscription from Hispellum in Umbria.[4] Rusonius Epictetus, buried at Lugdunum in Gallia Lugdunensis, in a tomb dedicated by his foster-father.[5] Rusonius Hylas, a freedman, and one of the Seviri Augustales at Lugdunum, where he was buried in a tomb dedicated by his colleague, Gaius Rusonius Mercurialis.[6] Gaius Rusonius Mercurialis, a freedman, and one of the Seviri Augustales at Lugdunum, where he dedicated a tomb for his colleague, Rusonius Hylas.[6] Gaius Rusonius Myron, a freedman, and one of the Seviri Augustales at Lugdunum, where he dedicated a tomb for his colleague, Gaius Rusonius Secundus.[7] Rusonia Nonna, buried at Durocortorum in Gallia Belgica, with a tomb dedicated by her husband, Maianus Primus, a cassidarius, or helmet-maker.[8] Rusonius Patrophilus, a freedman buried at Lugdunum, with a tomb dedicated by Rusonius Senator.[9] Gaius Rusonius Secundus, a freedman, and one of the Seviri Augustales at Lugdunum, where he was buried in a tomb dedicated by his colleague, Gaius Rusonius Myron.[7] Rusonius Senator, a freedman, who dedicated a tomb at Lugdunum for Rusonius Patrophilus.[9] See also List of Roman gentes References  Chase, pp. 118–120.  CIL III, 6146.  CIL VI, 1057.  AE 1992, 561.  AE 1976, 446.  CIL XIII, 1970.  CIL XII, 1898.  AE 1923, 20.  CIL XIII, 2251. Bibliography Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Category: Roman gentes and from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rusonio – Ossia: Grice e Rusonio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rusonio For the Rusonii, the evidence is sparse, but my first-best Grice–Speranza vignette would be: Grice e Rusonio Senatore Not because he was a senator—he was not. Rather, because we have:  Rusonius Senator, a freedman, who dedicated a tomb at Lugdunum for Rusonius Patrophilus, also a freedman. [GREXv2 | Word]  The attraction is the cognomen:  Senator.  Just as with Rullius Princeps, we have a title-like word functioning as a personal name. The semantic puzzle Speranza:  Quis monumentum posuit? (Who erected the monument?)  Grice:  Senator. (Senator.) [GREXv2 | Word]  Speranza:  Senator Romanus? (A Roman senator?)  Grice:  Non; Rusonius Senator. (No; Rusonius Senator.) [GREXv2 | Word]  Speranza:  Ergo senator non erat? (So he was not a senator?)  Grice:  Nomen est, non magistratus. (It is a name, not an office.)  +> A word originally descriptive may lose its descriptive force and become merely a means of identification. That is very close to Grice's recurring interest in the difference between:  what an expression historically means, what it is currently used to refer to. My verdict I would still choose: Grice e Rusonio Senatore Speranza:  Cur Senator vocatur? (Why is he called Senator?)  Grice:  Fortasse olim aliquid descripsit. (Perhaps once it described something.)  Speranza:  Et nunc? (And now?)  Grice:  Nunc hominem designat. (Now it identifies a person.)  Speranza:  Ergo "Senator" non semper senatorem significat? (So "Senator" does not always signify a senator?)  Grice:  Rectissime. (Exactly.)  +> The route from description to reference is one of the central routes in language. That strikes me as the most characteristically Gricean possibility in the rather shadowy gens Rusonia. [GREXv2 | Word]

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rusonio – Ossia: Grice e Rusonio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rusonio A second candidate: Rusonius Epictetus There is also:  Rusonius Epictetus, buried at Lugdunum, with a tomb dedicated by his foster-father. [GREXv2 | Word]  That recalls the Rufinianus theme you raised earlier:  family by recognition rather than blood.  A foster-father publicly commemorates a foster-son. +> Social relationships can be constituted by acknowledgment as much as by biology.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rustio – Ossia: Grice e Rustio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rustio Denarius of Quintus Rustius, 19 BC. The obverse depicts heads of Fortuna Victrix and Fortuna Felix, resting on a bar terminating in rams' heads. The reverse depicts an altar. The gens Rustia was a minor plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens are first mentioned toward the end of the Republic, and a few of them achieved prominence in imperial times, with Titus Rustius Nummius Gallus attaining the consulship under Tiberius in AD 34.[1]  Origin The nomen Rustius seems to belong to a class of gentilicia of Umbrian derivation.,[2] and one of the Rustii held high office at Interamnia Nahars in Umbria. The nomen Rusius, found in a handful of authors and inscriptions, may be an error for Rustius, as may Ruscius, although the latter may have been a variant of Roscius.[1]  Praenomina The main praenomina of the Rustii were Lucius and Titus, both of which were among the most common names throughout Roman history. There are also instances of Gaius, Marcus and Quintus, also very common names.  Branches and cognomina The only distinct family of the Rustii bore the surname Caepio, from caepa, an onion, one of a large class of cognomina derived from the names of familiar objects, plants, and animals. Members of this family appear in history for about two hundred years, from the first century BC to the second century AD.[3] Gallus, used by one of the family, referred either to a cockerel, or a Gaul.[4]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Gaius Rusius, a noted prosecutor mentioned by Cicero. In Brutus, Cicero has Atticus relate an anecdote in which the erudite Rusius harangued his opponent, Lucius Cornelius Sisenna, for his colourful and novel expressions, giving as an example Sisenna's description of Rusius' charges as sputatilica, "worthy to be spit upon".[5] Lucius Rustius, as triumvir monetalis in 76 BC, minted denarii depicting the head of Minerva on the obverse, and a ram on the reverse.[6][7] Rustius, an officer who served under Marcus Licinius Crassus during his expedition against the Parthians.[8] Lucius Rustius L. f. L. n. Caepio, a pontifex, and one of the municipal quattuorviri at Interamnia Nahars in Umbria, according to two inscriptions dating to the latter part of the first century BC.[9] Quintus Rustius M. f., triumvir monetalis in 19 BC, was one of the duumvirs at Antium.[10][6][11] Titus Rustius Nummius Gallus, consul suffectus in AD 34.[12] Rustius Caepio, left a legacy for his heir to pay to newly appointed senators, which Domitian annulled early in his reign.[13] Titus Rustius Caepio, consul suffectus circa AD 173.[14][15] See also List of Roman gentes References  Dictionary of Greek and Latin Biography and Mythology, vol. III, p. 680 ("Lucius Rustius").  Chase, pp. 128, 129.  Chase, pp. 112, 113.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. gallus.  Cicero, Brutus, 74. s. 259, 260.  Eckhel, vol. v, pp. 297, 298.  Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, p. 404.  Plutarch, "The Life of Crassus", 32.  CIL XI, 4172, CIL XI, 4217.  CIL X, 6680.  PIR, vol. III, p. 147.  CIL VI, 244.  Suetonius, "The Life of Domitian", 9.  CIL VI, 2222.  Alföldy, Konsulat und Senatorenstand unter der Antonien, p. 188. Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, Brutus. Lucius Mestrius Plutarchus (Plutarch), Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans. Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Vita Caesarum (Lives of the Caesars, or The Twelve Caesars). Lucius Cassius Dio Cocceianus (Cassius Dio), Roman History. Joseph Hilarius Eckhel, Doctrina Numorum Veterum (The Study of Ancient Coins, 1792–1798). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Paul von Rohden, Elimar Klebs, & Hermann Dessau, Prosopographia Imperii Romani (The Prosopography of the Roman Empire, abbreviated PIR), Berlin (1898). Michael Crawford, Roman Republican Coinage, Cambridge University Press (1974, 2001). Géza Alföldy, Konsulat und Senatorenstand unter der Antonien (The Consulate and Senatorial State under the Antonines), Rudolf Habelt, Bonn (1977). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Categories: Roman gentesRoman gentes of Umbrian origin And from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rustio – Ossia: Grice e Rustio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rustio For the Rustii, my first-best choice is not the consul and not the moneyer, but: Grice e Rusio Oratore The intriguing figure is:  Gaius Rusius, a noted prosecutor mentioned by Cicero in the Brutus. Cicero recounts an anecdote in which Rusius attacked Lucius Cornelius Sisenna for using novel and colorful expressions, citing Sisenna's description of Rusius' accusations as sputatilica, "worthy of being spat upon." [GREXv2 | Word]  This is almost ready-made for Grice, because it concerns not facts but word-choice, stylistic innovation, and reactions to linguistic creativity. Grice e Rusio de Verbis Novis Speranza:  Quid fecit Sisenna? (What did Sisenna do?)  Grice:  Verbum novum finxit. (He coined a new word.)  Speranza:  Et quid respondit Rusius? (And what did Rusius say?)  Grice:  Verbum ipsum accusavit. (He attacked the word itself.)   [GREXv2 | Word] +> Disputes about content often become disputes about language.  Why this is Gricean Grice constantly distinguishes between:  what is said, how it is said, what is implicated.  Rusius seems offended not merely by Sisenna's opinion but by his lexical inventiveness. One can imagine: Rusius:  That is not Latin.  Sisenna:  It is now.   Ha The quarrel turns on whether a speaker may extend the language.  Hardie and Grice Hardie:  Why is Rusius annoyed?  Grice:  Sisenna calls his accusations sputatilica.  Hardie:  Meaning?  Grice:  Worthy of being spat upon.  Hardie:  Then the insult lies not merely in the proposition but in the manner of expression.  Grice:  Quite.  +> Style itself may communicate attitudes beyond the literal content. My verdict Grice e Rusio de Sputatilicis Speranza:  Quid est sputatilicum? (What is "sputatilicum"?)  Grice:  Verbum novum. (A new word.)  Speranza:  Et quid significat? (And what does it mean?)  Grice:  Dignum quod conspuatur. (Something worthy of being spat upon.)  Speranza:  Cur hoc interest philosopho? (Why should a philosopher care?)  Grice:  Quia saepe modus dicendi plus valet quam ipsa res dicta. (Because often the manner of speaking matters more than the thing said itself.)  +> Linguistic innovation can carry attitudes and evaluations not reducible to straightforward propositional content. [GREXv2 | Word] That strikes me as the richest Grice–Speranza vignette available in the gens Rustia. and re the first: what's the expression for those 'verba'? Can we think of examples. Because an author wrote on NEOLOGISMI DI PLINIO can we check that source? Thanks Yes. The Cicero passage about Gaius Rusius is really about what the ancients called verba nova, nova verba, or sometimes inaudita verba—new, unusual, or unprecedented words. The anecdote as summarized in Brutus is that Rusius objected to the stylistic innovations of Lucius Cornelius Sisenna, fastening on Sisenna's coined adjective sputatilica ("worthy of being spat upon"). [GREXv2 | Word] A Gricean immediately notices that this is not a dispute about truth conditions but about lexical innovation. What sort of word is sputatilica? It looks deliberately playful and perhaps slightly grotesque. The base is:  sputare = "to spit"  and Sisenna appears to have formed an adjective meaning roughly:  "spit-worthy," "deserving to be spat upon."  Rusius' reaction suggests that the very novelty of the word was part of the point. [GREXv2 | Word]  Pliny and neologisms Your reference to Neologismi di Plinio is very apt. I did not find that specific study title in the search results, so I cannot verify its contents. But I did confirm that Pliny the Elder wrote a now-lost grammatical work called:  Dubii Sermonis  on questions of language and usage. [it.wikipedia.org] That makes him exactly the sort of author around whom a study of neologisms might arise, though I cannot claim that from the sources I found.  A Grice–Speranza reconstruction Speranza:  Why is Rusius angry?  Grice:  Because Sisenna invented a word.  Speranza:  But words are invented every day.  Grice:  Not if one is a conservative Roman.   Ha Speranza:  What did sputatilica contribute?  Grice:  More attitude than information.  +> The novelty itself carries an evaluation. That is very Gricean. A neologism often does not merely denote; it conveys a stance toward what is denoted.  A connection with "invent/discover" Your earlier point about inventio is relevant here. For Sisenna, the word is genuinely invented. For Rusius, the word has not yet been accepted into the common code. So one might imagine: Rusius:  Non est verbum Latinum. (That is not a Latin word.)  Sisenna:  Nondum. (Not yet.)   Ha That is perhaps the eternal fate of neologisms: first criticized as impossible, later accepted as ordinary vocabulary. Indeed, Grice's own implicature followed exactly that path: first a coined technical term, now routine philosophical vocabulary. Well, the memorableness of the anecdote is that S. used a verbum novum to attack R.'s criticism of S.'s use of verba nova. Now sputare -- cf. amare -- amabilis -- worthy to be loved -- sputabilis -- worthy to be spit? Thanks Does Lewis Short have a reference to this adj.? Thanks -- and is Brutus passage condemning in tone towrds S.? It seems like the implicature: "Why even try? They'll keep inventing nova verba and spit them on you?" The formation seems irregular. You can have a second run it's internet archive perpahs NEOLOGISMO PLINIO in title? Thanks I think you've put your finger on what makes the anecdote memorable. It is not merely:  Rusius criticizes Sisenna's neologisms.  It is:  Sisenna defends himself with a neologism.  The weapon is the crime. That gives the anecdote a wonderfully self-referential character. The word itself The form reported by Cicero is:  sputatilica [GREXv2 | Word]  As you note, if one were proceeding by ordinary Latin morphology, one might expect something like:  amare → amabilis ("worthy of being loved") laudare → laudabilis ("worthy of praise") sputare → sputabilis ("worthy of being spat upon")  But sputatilica is not that. That is precisely why it attracted notice. It sounds deliberately manufactured, extravagant, and perhaps comic. From the anecdote alone, the implicature is:  Sisenna was willing to stretch Latin morphology for rhetorical effect.  And Rusius was not amused. Cicero's tone My reading of the Brutus anecdote is that Cicero is not primarily condemning Sisenna. Rather, he is amused by the episode. The story illustrates a controversy over style. One side says:  "Your language is full of strange expressions."  The reply comes:  "Your accusations are sputatilica."  The response itself proves the charge.  Ha The implicature is almost:  "If you dislike neologisms, here is another one."  A Gricean reconstruction Rusius:  Nova verba nimis facis. (You coin too many new words.)  Sisenna:  Haec accusatio sputatilica est. (That accusation is spit-worthy.)  Rusius:  Ecce! Alterum verbum novum! (There! Another new word!)  +> The defence exemplifies the offence. That is why the anecdote survives. "Why even try?" Your reading is attractive. One might hear Sisenna as implying:  "There is no point appeasing linguistic conservatives."  or  "Whatever I write, you'll object."  Hence:  They criticize new words. One answers them. They criticize the answer because it contains a new word.  A kind of infinite regress of stylistic policing. Pliny and Neologismi di Plinio I made a second search, but I could not verify a work with the exact title Neologismi di Plinio. The search did confirm that Pliny the Elder wrote the lost grammatical treatise Dubii Sermonis, concerned with questions of usage and language. If you have the author's name, article title, or journal reference for Neologismi di Plinio, I may be able to track that specific study more accurately. My suspicion, however, is that a scholar of Plinian neologisms would find Sisenna's sputatilica a delightful precedent: a word noteworthy precisely because it calls attention to its own novelty. Santi Consoli -- Il neologismo -- can you find something about this? Thanks -- I would not call S.'s a neologism unless it's into some lexicon or other -- perhaps under sputare -- but the derivation seems whimscial and unnecessary when sputabilis is already there? Thanks Excellent point. First, on Santi Consoli: we can now verify that there really is a book:  Il neologismo negli scritti di Plinio il giovane: Contributo agli studi sulla latinità argentea (1900), by Santi Consoli. It survives in scans and reprints and is about neologisms in Pliny the Younger's language. [archive.org], [books.google.com]  The search results do not provide Consoli's actual arguments or examples, but they do confirm the existence, date, subject, and scope of the work. [archive.org], [books.google.com], [amazon.com] Now to the more interesting point: is Sisenna's sputatilica really a neologism? I think your caution is justified. A distinction is useful:                      TypeExamplelexical neologismgenuinely new word entering usageoccasionalismone-off formation for a particular effectproductive derivationword generated by an existing pattern The anecdote suggests that sputatilica might be closer to an occasionalism than to a permanent addition to the lexicon. After all, as you note, Latin already had productive ways of expressing:  "worthy of being spat upon"  by analogy with:  amare → amabilis laudare → laudabilis  and therefore potentially  sputare → sputabilis  (if such a form were wanted). So the charge against Sisenna may not have been:  "He coined a needed word."  but:  "He coined an unnecessarily showy one."   That is exactly what makes the anecdote funny. Rusius:  Stop inventing strange words.  Sisenna:  Your criticisms are sputatilica.  Rusius:  There! Another one!   Ha The defence performs the offence.  As for the morphology, your instinct is again sound. The form does look somewhat whimsical. I would be reluctant to analyse it as a straightforward, regular derivative comparable to amabilis. The surviving reports suggest that contemporaries found it remarkable precisely because it was unusual. If it had been a completely ordinary derivative, Cicero's anecdote would lose much of its point. [GREXv2 | Word]  On Cicero's attitude in Brutus, I would not say he is condemning Sisenna. Rather, Cicero seems amused by the stylistic controversy. The anecdote survives because of its wit. The implicit moral is almost:  linguistic conservatives provoke linguistic innovators, who retaliate with further innovations.  Or, in your formulation:  "Why even try? They'll keep inventing new words and hurling them at you."  That feels very close to the comic force of the story. One final Gricean thought. If Grice had been told:  "Sisenna invented a new word,"  he might have replied:  "Did he invent it, or merely discover a possibility latent in Latin morphology?"  A delightfully Gricean distinction—and one your earlier remarks about inventio versus discovery make especially apt. and what def. is given -- it's fem. because it's objectio -- but in general? and can you have a second run with the word AND the definition (neutral not nec. fem.) to see if it was discussed by lexicographers, etc. Thanks A second run turns up something quite interesting. The word is not merely a ghost from the Brutus anecdote. Some modern Latin lexica actually register it:  sputatilicus, -a, -um glossed as "despicable" or "worthy of being spat upon." [latindictionary.io]  So the form is not exclusively feminine. The feminine sputatilica in Cicero is feminine because it modifies an understood feminine noun such as:  accusatio sputatilica ("a spit-worthy accusation")  but the adjective itself is given in the standard three-gender form:  sputatilicus, sputatilica, sputatilicum. [latindictionary.io]  What makes the anecdote memorable is exactly what you noted. Cicero's Atticus says that Sisenna, who wished to reform Latin usage, could not be driven away from his nova atque inusitata verba ("new and unusual words"), despite the raillery of Gaius Rusius. Then comes the famous sputatilica story. [attalus.org], [loebclassics.com] The joke, as Rusius presents it, is:  "sputa" intellego, "tilica" non intellego ("I understand 'spit'; I don't understand 'tilica'.") [loebclassics.com], [attalus.org]  In other words, Rusius pretends to dissect the word and complains that half of it is unintelligible. Now to your morphological point. I share your suspicion. If one simply wanted "worthy of being spat upon," Latin already had productive and transparent means available. By analogy:  amare → amabilis laudare → laudabilis  one might expect:  sputare → sputabilis  Whether that exact adjective was common is another question, but the pattern was there. That is one reason sputatilicus attracted attention: it seems stylistically exuberant, perhaps even playful. It does not look like the most straightforward derivative available. So I would hesitate to call it a successful lexical neologism in the sense of a word that entered ordinary Latin. It may be closer to what linguists now call an occasionalism—a one-off formation coined for immediate rhetorical effect. The tone of Cicero's passage is also worth noticing. Cicero is not really condemning Sisenna. The target of the anecdote seems to be the whole dispute about linguistic innovation. The result is almost comic: Rusius:  Stop using new words.  Sisenna:  Your criticism is sputatilica.  Rusius:  There! Another new word!   Ha. The implicature is very much as you suggest:  "You complain about my innovations, but every attack merely provides another opportunity for innovation."  As for Santi Consoli, we can verify that his book is indeed:  Il neologismo negli scritti di Plinio il giovane (1900), a study of neologisms in Pliny the Younger's writings. [britannica.com], [en.wikipedia.org]  I found confirmation of the book's existence and subject, but not enough text from the work itself to say whether Consoli discusses sputatilicus or compares Sisenna and Pliny. [britannica.com], [en.wikipedia.org] What I find especially Gricean is that the anecdote is not primarily about vocabulary. It is about a speaker using a novel expression partly to convey an attitude. Sputatilica does not merely classify Rusius' charges; it ridicules them. The novelty itself is part of the communicative effect. [loebclassics.com], [attalus.org]  and you quote Atticus on inusitatum -- this may relate to Grice below on Austin and ordinary language -- strictly, too, an accusatio cannot be sputattilica if that is what is meant -- only THINGS can -- Thanks Grice: It has, I think, sometimes been supposed that one dogma which united us was that of the need to restrict philosophical attention to 'ordinary' language, in a sense which would disqualify the introduction into, or employment in, philosophical discourse of technical terminology or jargon, a restriction which would seem to put a stranglehold on any philosophical theory-construction. It is true that many, even all, of us would have objected (and rightly objected) to the introduction of technical apparatus before the ground had been properly laid; the sorry story of deontic logic shows what may happen when technologists rush in where a well-conducted elephant would fear to tread. We would also (as some of us did from time to time have objected to the covert introduction of jargon, the use of seemingly innocent expressions whose bite comes from a concealed technical overlay (as perhaps has occurred with words like "sensation' or 'volition'). But one glance at 'How to talk: Some Simple Ways', or at 'How to Do Things with Words' should be enough to dispel the idea that there was a general renunciation of the use of technical terminology, even if certain individuals at some moments may have strayed in that direction. Yes, and I think you are drawing together two quite Gricean themes:  Sisenna's defense of verba nova against Rusius, and Grice's defense of philosophical theory against a crude "ordinary language only" dogma.  The parallel is striking. In the Brutus, Cicero says that Sisenna:  could not be driven from his nova atque inusitata verba ("new and unusual words") by all the mockery of Gaius Rusius. [en.wikisource.org], [studyguides.com]  Now compare Grice's later remark against the caricature of Oxford ordinary-language philosophy. His complaint is not against technical vocabulary as such. It is against introducing it before the conceptual work has been done. Once the need is established, terminology may be perfectly legitimate. One can imagine: Rusius:  Why say sputatilica?  Sisenna:  Because I need it.  Austin:  Why say "performative"?  Grice:  Because we need it.  The issue is not novelty per se but justified novelty.  On inusitatum The word Cicero uses is important. Inusitatus literally means:  not customary, not familiar, unusual.  It does not necessarily mean:  bad, barbarous, incorrect.  So the contrast is not:              good Latinbad Latin but rather:        familiar Latinunfamiliar Latin Rusius is a linguistic conservative; Sisenna is prepared to exploit unused possibilities in the language. That sounds uncannily close to later disputes about philosophical vocabulary.  Your point about accusatio sputatilica This is the really interesting part. Strictly speaking, if we take the adjective literally as:  "worthy of being spat upon,"  then the primary bearers of that property would normally be things, persons, objects, perhaps actions. An accusation is not the most natural candidate. But that is precisely what rhetoric does. Compare English:  a ridiculous argument, a disgusting suggestion, a contemptible excuse.  None of these things is literally an object of ridicule, disgust, or contempt in the physical sense. The adjective has already migrated from:  an object that deserves a bodily reaction  to:  a proposition, speech-act, or claim that deserves a negative evaluation.  So when Sisenna calls the charges sputatilica, he is not merely describing them. He is performing an evaluation. A Gricean would say: What is said:  These accusations are sputatilica.  What is implicated:  They deserve contempt. No serious person should credit them.  The novelty of the word helps carry the attitude.  A Gricean reconstruction Rusius:  Stop using verba inusitata.  Sisenna:  Your criticism itself is sputatilica.  Rusius:  There! Another one!  Grice:  The new word is doing more than describing.  Speranza:  What is it doing?  Grice:  It is inviting an attitude.  +> The force of the expression exceeds its descriptive content. That, I suspect, is exactly why the anecdote survived. The word is not memorable because it denotes something unavailable to ordinary Latin. It is memorable because it dramatizes a dispute about how much freedom a speaker has to extend the language. Cicero's amusement seems directed less at the specific word than at the endless battle between innovators and guardians of usage. [en.wikisource.org], [studyguides.com] and what is cicero's definiens '' worth to be spit upon' in Latin? Thanks The safest reconstruction is:  sputatilicus, -a, -um = dignus qui conspuatur ("worthy of being spat upon")  or more idiomatically:  contemptu dignus ("worthy of contempt"). [britannica.com]  What is interesting is that Cicero does not stop in the anecdote to offer a formal definition. The joke depends on Rusius' feigned incomprehension:  sputa intellego, tilica non intellego ("'spit' I understand; 'tilica' I do not understand"). [en.wikisource.org], [studyguides.com]  The modern lexicographical tradition, however, glosses:  sputatilicus = "despicable" / "worthy of being spat upon." [britannica.com]  Your objection is philologically acute. If Sisenna merely wanted a regular passive-worth adjective, Latin morphology already suggests:  sputabilis  by analogy with  amabilis laudabilis.  That is one reason why sputatilica attracted attention: the force seems not merely semantic but stylistic. It is a conspicuously unusual formation. Cicero presents Sisenna as a lover of nova atque inusitata verba ("new and unusual words"), and the anecdote is offered as evidence. [en.wikisource.org], [studyguides.com] A Gricean might even paraphrase: What Sisenna said:  accusationes sputatilicae sunt.  What he meant:  "These charges deserve contempt."  What he additionally implicated by choosing that form:  "And I am perfectly willing to coin a word in order to say so."  Which, of course, is exactly what infuriates Rusius.Ha. and can you provide the full passage then, by Cicero, where the word is mentioned, along with its definition? Thanks -- in latin, and that we can parse into English? Thanks Yes—but I should be careful about one thing. I can quote Cicero's Latin itself (a public-domain classical text), but I cannot honestly say that Cicero gives a definition of sputatilica. The joke is precisely that he does not. Cicero reports Rusius' mock incomprehension and leaves the reader to infer the sense. [loebclassics.com] The relevant passage from Brutus §§259–260 runs approximately as follows:  Sisenna, qui quasi emendator sermonis usitati esse volebat, ne a C. quidem Rusio, cum multas in eum facetias congessisset, de novis verbis et inauditis revocari potuit. "Quidnam?" inquit Brutus, "et quis iste C. Rusius?" "Accusator," inquit Atticus, "vetus, qui cum a C. Hirtilio causam diceret et Sisenna defenderet, quaedam eius accusationes sputatilica dixerat." Tum ille: "Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. 'Sputatilica' quid est? 'Sputa' quid sit scio, 'tilica' nescio." (text reconstructed from the standard tradition; wording varies slightly by edition)  The key points are:  Sisenna wished to reform current Latin usage. Rusius mocked him for his nova et inaudita verba ("new and unheard-of words"). [en.wikisource.org], [loebclassics.com] Sisenna called some accusations sputatilica. Rusius jokes:  sputa scio, tilica nescio "I know what 'spittle' means; I don't know what 'tilica' means." [loebclassics.com]    Now to your philological point. I rather agree with you that the force of the anecdote is weakened if we simply gloss:  sputatilicus = "worthy of being spat upon".  That is the lexicographical gloss. Modern dictionaries register:  sputatilicus, -a, -um = despicable, worthy of being spat upon. [britannica.com]  But Rusius' joke suggests that the form itself struck people as odd. One might have expected something more ordinary such as:  sputabilis by analogy with amabilis, laudabilis.  Instead Sisenna appears to have created (or at least used) a more flamboyant formation. So the anecdote is not merely:  "Sisenna used the word 'despicable'."  It is:  "Sisenna used a strangely coined word meaning something like 'spit-worthy', and then got mocked for doing exactly what his critics accused him of doing."  And that is why the story survives. A very Gricean implicature is: Rusius:  Stop inventing strange words.  Sisenna:  Your criticism is sputatilica.  Rusius:  There! Yet another strange word.  The word illustrates the accusation while answering it. [loebclassics.com], [en.wikisource.org] And your observation about ordinary language is apt: Cicero's contrast between usus and inaudita verba is remarkably close to later debates (Austin, Grice, etc.) about whether philosophical progress requires sticking to established usage or extending the language when ordinary resources seem insufficient. [loebclassics.com] and can we have Eng. of the below? And after that -- a re-version using simple quotes. Because the 'sputa intelliego' should be rendered as "'sputa' intellego' -- but does he? It's not a form, either. Thanks Sisenna, qui quasi emendator sermonis usitati esse volebat, ne a C. quidem Rusio, cum multas in eum facetias congessisset, de novis verbis et inauditis revocari potuit. "Quidnam?" inquit Brutus, "et quis iste C. Rusius?" "Accusator," inquit Atticus, "vetus, qui cum a C. Hirtilio causam diceret et Sisenna defenderet, quaedam eius accusationes sputatilica dixerat." Tum ille: "Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. 'Sputatilica' quid est? 'Sputa' quid sit scio, 'tilica' nescio." Certainly. First, an English translation that tries to preserve Cicero's tone. Translation  Sisenna, who wished to pose as a reformer of ordinary current speech, could not be driven away from his new and unheard-of words, not even by all the jokes that Gaius Rusius heaped upon him. "What do you mean?" said Brutus. "And who was this Gaius Rusius?" "An old prosecutor," said Atticus, "who, when he was prosecuting Gaius Hirtilius and Sisenna was defending him, heard Sisenna describe some of his accusations as sputatilica." Then Rusius exclaimed: "I am finished, judges, unless you come to my aid! I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying; I can see a trap being laid for me. What is 'sputatilica'? I know what 'sputa' means; 'tilica' I do not know."    Now with simple quotation marks I would render it:  "What is 'sputatilica'? I know what 'sputa' means; 'tilica' I don't know."  which makes the joke clearer.  But does he really understand "sputa"? This is precisely the philological joke. No, not really. Rusius is pretending to analyse the word as:  sputa + tilica  whereas Sisenna presumably intends a single adjective:  sputatilica  Rusius' joke is:  "I can make sense of the first bit, but the second bit is gibberish."  It is rather like saying:  "I understand 'tele-'; it's the '-vision' part that puzzles me."  when one perfectly well knows the whole word. Or:  "I understand 'implica-'; it's the '-ture' part that defeats me."  😄 The joke depends on deliberately misparsing the word.  A Gricean reconstruction Sisenna:  Accusationes istae sputatilicae sunt. (Those accusations are sputatilica.)  Rusius:  Sputatilica? Quid est? (Sputatilica? What's that?)  Rusius (continuing):  'Sputa' intellego; 'tilica' non intellego. ("Sputa" I understand; "tilica" I don't.)  +> "Your word is so bizarre that I cannot even determine where one morpheme ends and the next begins." That is the real point of the jest.  And there is a further implicature which I suspect Cicero enjoys:  Rusius attacks Sisenna for using unusual words. Sisenna uses another unusual word. Rusius responds by pretending the word is not Latin at all.  The exchange is almost a miniature debate between linguistic conservatism and linguistic innovation. Cicero is amused by both sides, but I do not think he is particularly condemning Sisenna. Indeed the anecdote survives largely because Sisenna's eccentricity was memorable enough to generate such a joke. thanks -- and one more time -- can you provide the LATIN followed by the ENglish in round brackets? Thanks Sisenna, qui quasi emendator sermonis usitati esse volebat, ne a C. quidem Rusio, cum multas in eum facetias congessisset, de novis verbis et inauditis revocari potuit. "Quidnam?" inquit Brutus, "et quis iste C. Rusius?" "Accusator," inquit Atticus, "vetus, qui cum a C. Hirtilio causam diceret et Sisenna defenderet, quaedam eius accusationes sputatilica dixerat." Tum ille: "Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. 'Sputatilica' quid est? 'Sputa' quid sit scio, 'tilica' nescio." Of course. I'll preserve the Latin and give the English immediately in round brackets.  Sisenna, qui quasi emendator sermonis usitati esse volebat, ne a C. quidem Rusio, cum multas in eum facetias congessisset, de novis verbis et inauditis revocari potuit. (Sisenna, who wished to pass as a reformer of ordinary current speech, could not be driven away from his new and unheard-of words, not even by Gaius Rusius, although Rusius had heaped many jokes upon him.)   "Quidnam?" inquit Brutus, "et quis iste C. Rusius?" ("What do you mean?" said Brutus. "And who was this Gaius Rusius?")   "Accusator," inquit Atticus, "vetus, qui cum a C. Hirtilio causam diceret et Sisenna defenderet, quaedam eius accusationes sputatilica dixerat." ("An old prosecutor," said Atticus, "who, when he was prosecuting Gaius Hirtilius and Sisenna was defending him, heard Sisenna call some of his accusations 'sputatilica'.")   Tum ille: "Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video." (Then he exclaimed: "I am done for, judges, unless you help me. I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying; I can see a trap being laid for me.")   "'Sputatilica' quid est?" ("What is 'sputatilica'?")   "'Sputa' quid sit scio, 'tilica' nescio." ("I know what 'sputa' means; 'tilica' I do not know.")  The last line is especially amusing because Rusius is almost certainly pretending to parse the word:  sputatilica → sputa + tilica  even though the whole point is that it is a single, unusual adjective. So a more idiomatic English rendering might be:  "As for 'sputa', I know what that means; but this mysterious 'tilica' is beyond me."  The implicature is:  "This word is so bizarre that it is not really Latin at all."  Which is a much sharper joke than merely saying:  "I don't know the word."  And, as you nicely noted earlier, the irony is perfect:  Rusius attacks Sisenna for using verba nova et inaudita (new and unheard-of words). Sisenna replies with a new and unheard-of word. Rusius then turns that very word into evidence for the prosecution. Ha. Well, not really. It's courtroom drama and cross-examination and R.'s reputation at risk, and his appeal to the judges in the vocative. S. called ONE accusatio by R. re: Hirtilius 'sputatilica' -- and R. sets a mini-drama. Grice said that 'sentence' is a value-paradeigmatic word. "Accusatio sputatilica est." would NOT be one, since like wff -- well formed formulae -- a formula may be ill-formed or well-formed. But a sentence has to be well-formed. "Accusatio sputatilica est" is not one -- and should not be reproduced in proceedings of court. Thanks I think that's a very perceptive correction. My earlier paraphrase risks turning the anecdote into a lexicographical discussion, whereas in Cicero it is really a forensic performance. The dramatic centre is not Sisenna's word but Rusius' reaction to it. The scene is:  Rusius is prosecuting. Sisenna is defending Gaius Hirtilius. Sisenna characterizes certain accusations as sputatilica. Rusius immediately turns to the judges:   Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. ("I am ruined, judges, unless you come to my assistance.")  That is not a dictionary entry. It is courtroom theatre. The vocative iudices is crucial. He is not saying:  "I genuinely do not know what this word means."  He is saying, in effect:  "Gentlemen, look what I am up against! My opponent is speaking a strange private language."  The joke depends on his reputation and position as prosecutor.  Your Gricean point about value-paradigmatic terms is also relevant. Grice remarks that some expressions are inherently evaluative or success-entailing. "Sentence" is one of his examples: a sentence must already satisfy the conditions for being a sentence. An ill-formed "sentence" is not really a sentence at all. Likewise, if one says  accusatio sputatilica est  one is not merely classifying the accusation. One is already evaluating it. The expression functions more like:  "This accusation is contemptible," "This accusation deserves rejection."  So the utterance is not neutral reportage. It is advocacy.  And I rather like your suggestion that:  accusatio sputatilica est  should not appear in the official proceedings. A court record ideally preserves:  who alleged what,  not  counsel's abusive characterization of what was alleged.  In modern terms, calling the accusation sputatilica is closer to saying:  "This charge is rubbish."  The proposition under examination disappears behind the evaluation.  Indeed, one can reconstruct Rusius' miniature drama as: Sisenna:  Accusationes istae sputatilicae sunt. (Those charges are "spit-worthy".)  Rusius (turning to the bench):  Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. (I am ruined, judges, unless you help me.)  Rusius:  'Sputa' intellego; 'tilica' nescio. ("'Sputa' I understand; 'tilica' I do not.")  +> "My learned opponent is deliberately obscuring matters." The joke is not really about morphology. The joke is about forensic fairness:  "How can I defend myself against accusations I cannot even linguistically understand?"  Of course neither Rusius nor the audience actually believes that. The audience laughs precisely because everyone understands that Rusius is staging a mock-victimhood performance. Cicero preserves the anecdote because it is a brilliant example of courtroom wit, not because it settles a question of lexicography. And it's even stronger than that. R.'s use of 'trap' -- I don't know what S. means -- this I intelligeo -- but this not -- "Accusatio [for it has to be singular] sputatilica est." is just NOT a sentence -- it is unintelligible, ill-formed, gibberish -- your point about the spit -- etc. is reconstructive. R. refuses to play the game -- to get int the trap of linguistic entrapment. "Sputa" may be intelligible in that it may be a form of 'sputare' -- although this seems controversial -- is it? some imperative in third person or second person -- but '-tilica' is not a well-formed suffix, turning the combo ill-formed, and turning the expression 'Accusatio sputatilica est' into NONSENSE. Thanks -- Grice played with 'pirots' (Pirots karulise elatically-- but that's common ground after Carnap. it's more like twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble' Thanks or Edward Lear's coinages. Thanks -- the appearance of resemblane with 'sputa' -- is not enough. And such adj. should not be allowed in transcription. Thanks I think that is a very strong reading of the anecdote, and stronger than the usual lexicographical one. The standard scholarly reconstruction is:  sputatilica ≈ "worthy of being spat upon."  That reconstruction arises because later lexicographers and commentators attempt to derive a meaning from the visible resemblance to sputare ("to spit"). But you are quite right that Rusius' performance in Cicero is not the performance of a lexicographer. Rusius does not say:  "I think it means 'worthy of being spat upon', and I object to the word."  What he says is:  Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. ("I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying; I can see a trap being laid for me.")  and then:  'Sputatilica' quid est? 'Sputa' quid sit scio, 'tilica' nescio. ("What is 'sputatilica'? I know what 'sputa' is; 'tilica' I do not know.")  The word insidias is crucial. This is not merely:  "I don't know this word."  It is:  "My opponent is trying to defeat me by speaking a language I cannot understand."  That is a courtroom accusation.  So the dramatic force is closer to: Rusius:  Judges, this is not Latin. This is verbal sabotage.  than to: Rusius:  I should like a dictionary entry, please.    Ha Your comparison with Grice's later examples is illuminating. Consider:  Pirots karulise elatically.  or  'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves / Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.  The point is not that one can reconstruct a probable sense from fragments. One may notice:  slithy resembles slimy + lithe, gyre resembles a real verb, karulise looks verbal,  but that does not automatically make the utterance part of the shared linguistic code. Indeed Rusius' position could be formulated as:  Mere resemblance to known linguistic material is insufficient for intelligibility.  The fact that:  sputatilica contains something resembling sputa-  does not force him to concede that it is a meaningful Latin adjective.  And this is where your Grice connection becomes especially nice. Rusius is refusing to enter the language-game. He refuses the move:  "Come now, you can guess what I mean."  Instead he says:  "No. If this is part of the public language, explain it. If you cannot explain it, it should not be used against me."  In modern terms:  he challenges not the truth of the accusation, but the semantic admissibility of the vocabulary.   One can almost reconstruct the exchange: Sisenna:  Accusatio sputatilica est.  Rusius:  Non intellego.  Sisenna:  Surely you can see what I mean.  Rusius:  Non quaero quid fortasse significare possit; quaero an Latine dictum sit. (I am not asking what it might possibly mean; I am asking whether it has been said in Latin.)  That is, I think, very close to your reading. The later lexicographer says:  "The word probably means 'worthy of being spat upon'."  Rusius' comic position is stronger:  "Until proven otherwise, the expression is gibberish."  And Cicero's audience laughs because everyone understands both sides:  Sisenna the innovator, Rusius the conservative who treats innovation as linguistic entrapment. and this in Austin's kindergarten (Grice's playgroup) becomes relevant -- as we can imagine R.'s type-conversational moves (can we) for things like, to stick with "How to do": rheme, pheme, phatic, rhetic, illocution, perlocution, and we have to revise 'Some simple ways' does Austin use NEOLOGISMS there? Thanks -- indeed performatory and performative apply too -- these were used in Scots law as operational, or operative, and Starwson uses 'performatory' in 1949 -- then there's Hare's dictor and dictum--and neustic and phrastic and clistic and tropic etc and even Grice's quessertion that had been used by Ross and other linguists to refer to question/assertion -- "I can invent a new language," Grice says, "call it Deutero-Esperanto" -- that I design as I lay in my bath -- that makes me the master -- his pirot (From Carnap). Then Grice uses cotch and potch for conceve and perceive and obble for objects -- this resembels the sputatilica in that the meaning is transparent enough. The whole is in terms of Atticus and Brutus -- so rhetoric and literary -- etc. Thanks--Grice does not ue object but obble to make a point about a constructed language. S. uses sputtilica to amuse the jury Thanks and irritate R.-- which he does --recall that Dodgson wrote Twas brillig back for Mischmasch and then Alice has it interpreted by Humpty Dumpty -- and there's Edward Lear and many others thansk -- and il neologismo di Plinio il giovane. Thanks Yes, I think there is a deep connection here, and your instinct is very Gricean. The Brutus anecdote is not merely about one funny adjective. It is about the social status of verba nova. Rusius' move is:  "I refuse to enter your linguistic game."  He does not say:  "By sputatilica you mean contemptu digna."  Instead he says:  Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. ("I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying; I see a trap being laid for me.")  So the issue is not semantics but admissibility.  Austin's playgroup Now compare Austin. In How to Do Things with Words, Austin introduces:  performative, constative, locution, illocution, perlocution.  These are, in effect, technical neologisms or technical re-deployments. A Rusius might have responded:  "Locution I understand. But what is illocution?"  Or:  "'Per-' I understand. But what is the rest of it?" Ha The same with:  rheme, pheme, rhetic, phatic.  These are not ordinary street-English. Austin is deliberately constructing a taxonomy.  Grice's defence The passage you quote from Grice is very relevant. Grice's point is:  We were not opposed to technical terminology as such.  What he opposes is premature technical terminology. A technical word must earn its keep. One might paraphrase Grice:  Sisenna invents because he enjoys inventing. Austin invents because he needs distinctions.  That is perhaps unfair to Sisenna—but it captures Grice's attitude toward theory-construction.  Hare The same applies to Hare:  phrastic, neustic, tropic, clistic, dictor, dictum.  To an outsider these may sound almost as mysterious as sputatilica. A Rusius-like reaction would be:  "Phrastic" quid est? ("What is 'phrastic'?")  And Hare's answer would not be:  "It sounds plausible."  but rather:  "It marks a distinction lacking in ordinary vocabulary."   Grice's own neologisms Grice is especially interesting because he oscillates between two modes. Technical  implicature, implicatum, conversational helpfulness, desiderative, acceptability.  Playful  pirot, cotch, potch, obble, Deutero-Esperanto.  The second class is much closer to Sisenna. Indeed obble resembles object exactly as sputatilica resembles something derivable from sputare. The hearer sees enough structure to suspect a meaning. That is why the joke works.  Dodgson and Humpty Dumpty Your comparison with Jabberwocky is excellent. Humpty Dumpty's explanations work because:  slithy looks English, mimsy looks English, galumphing looks English.  There is enough morphology to tempt interpretation. Similarly:  sputatilica  contains enough recognizable material that everybody starts trying to interpret it. Rusius refuses. That is the joke.  Atticus's point What I find especially interesting is Atticus's formulation:  de novis verbis et inauditis ("about new and unheard-of words")  That is almost exactly the issue Austin, Hare, Strawson, Carnap, and Grice repeatedly face. How much novelty may a philosopher introduce before the audience ceases to understand? Rusius represents one answer:  None.  Sisenna represents another:  As much as expressive power requires.  Austin and Grice occupy an intermediate position:  Introduce a new word only when ordinary language has already revealed a distinction that lacks a convenient label.  In that sense, Austin's illocutionary and Grice's implicature are descendants not of Rusius but of Sisenna. The difference is that Austin and Grice spend hundreds of pages trying to ensure that the judges understand what "tilica" means before they ask anyone to accept it. Ha and now you use inauditum but also inusitum -- and this coming from Grice as representative of 'ordinary-language philosophy' -- distracting from 'don't ask for the meaning, ask for the use.' Inauditum sounds otiose -- as requiring 'till now' 'sputatilica' was inauditum verbum 'till S. uttered it.' Inusitum is subtler. cf. Ryle/Finlay sympboisum on use, usage, in Aristotlelian society --.If R. feels that one charcteristaion of one of his accusation to Hirtilius 'sounds like a reference to 'sputa' -- he intelligit - but 'tilica' -- The insidias is that S. is setting a trigger for R. '' it is not out of the blue, 'Twas brillig' It is -- the accusation is sputa-tilica. Thanks--which lacks a truth-value for R. Thanks Yes, I think this gets us much closer to the force of the anecdote than the ordinary lexicographical treatment. The key word in Cicero's framing is not merely inaudita, but the combination:  nova verba et inaudita ("new and unheard-of words").  And I agree that inauditum and inusitatum are not the same thing.  inauditum = literally "unheard", not previously encountered. inusitatum = "not in use", outside established usage, unfamiliar through lack of customary employment.  The former is temporal:  nobody has heard this before.  The latter is social-linguistic:  this is not part of the established usus.  From an Oxford ordinary-language perspective, especially one influenced by Ryle and Austin, usus is the more interesting notion.  Now consider Rusius' reaction. You are right that he does not behave as if Sisenna had suddenly uttered something wholly Jabberwockian:  'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves...  If that had happened, there would be no joke. Instead, Rusius explicitly says:  'Sputa' quid sit scio, 'tilica' nescio.  The point of the quip is that the word is nearly interpretable. It tempts interpretation. It looks as though it belongs to Latin. It looks as though it has something to do with sputa-. And precisely there lies the alleged insidia. Rusius' performance may be reconstructed as:  "My opponent is not speaking obvious nonsense. He is speaking something which resembles meaningful Latin closely enough to pressure me into agreeing that it is meaningful Latin."  That is a subtler complaint than:  "This is gibberish."  It is:  "This is counterfeit Latin."   That is why the word insidias is so important.  insidias mihi fieri video ("I see a trap being laid for me").  The trap is not lexical ignorance. The trap is interpretive cooperation. Sisenna is, as it were, inviting Rusius to do some semantic work. Rusius refuses.  A Gricean reconstruction might be: Sisenna:  Here is a novel expression.  Rusius:  No. You do not get my cooperation for free.  Sisenna:  Surely you can see what I mean.  Rusius:  That is exactly what I refuse to grant.  In modern philosophy of language terms, Rusius is withholding uptake.  This is where your comparison with Grice's artificial vocabulary becomes especially illuminating. When Grice says:  "Pirots karulise elatically,"  or introduces:  obble, cotch, potch,  he is not pretending these are already English. The artificiality is overt. Rusius' complaint against Sisenna is almost the opposite:  The word is too close to ordinary Latin.  It carries just enough familiar material (sputa-) to tempt hearers into accepting it as meaningful. That is why Rusius' joke works. The jury can see both sides:  enough familiarity to suspect a meaning, enough novelty to make the legitimacy of the word contestable.   And so I think your final formulation is exactly right: For Rusius, the issue is not:  "I have not yet discovered the truth-value of 'accusatio sputatilica est'."  Rather:  "You have not yet earned the right to present this as a meaningful characterization at all."  The challenge is directed at the admissibility of the predicate, not at the truth of the predication. That is a very Austinian—and indeed very Gricean—sort of move. Before asking whether an utterance is true or false, ask whether it has successfully entered the language-game in which truth and falsity are at issue. and the point trades on Grice. R. says that he cannot understand what R. is saying (dicat). Sputatilica reeks of sputa -- to spit. So the apparaance is alrady of an insult. S. is diminishing the value of the accusatio without saying anytdhing meaningful. Grice would allow that "By uttering 'Accusatio est sputatilica," S. meant that R.'s accusation was spittable." It's almost like a malaprop, as per Davidson's tribute to Grice in 'A nice derangement of epitaphs.' S. intends -- and m-intends -- meaning-intends -- that sputatilica is transparent enough. R. is playing the offended part and asking for a higher bar at the bar. Thanks Yes, I think this gets very close to a genuinely Gricean reading of the anecdote. The standard lexicographer reads the exchange retrospectively:  sputatilica must mean something like "worthy of being spat upon."  The courtroom participants are doing something different. Rusius says:  Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. ("I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying; I see a trap being laid for me.")  Notice the verb:  dicat "what Sisenna is saying."  Rusius does not begin with:  "I disagree with what Sisenna says."  He begins with:  "I do not understand what Sisenna says."  That is a much more radical conversational move. In Gricean terms, Rusius is refusing to grant that successful saying has yet occurred.  Now your point about the appearance of meaning is exactly right. Sputatilica is not like:  blituri, karulise, or some totally alien string.  It visibly resembles:  sputa, sputare, spitting.  So Sisenna is clearly relying on the hearer's willingness to construct a meaning. One can imagine Grice saying:  Sisenna intends the jury to recognize that the word is connected with spitting. He intends them to recover something like: "deserving contempt," "deserving to be spat upon."  In that sense, Sisenna has an m-intention. He is not merely making noises.  But Rusius refuses the cooperative step. Instead of responding:  "My accusation is not spit-worthy,"  he responds:  "What is that supposed to mean?"  The move is brilliantly forensic. He shifts the issue from:  the accusation  to  the linguistic propriety of the defence counsel.   So the dramatic reconstruction becomes: Sisenna:  This accusation is sputatilica.  Rusius:  Gentlemen, I do not even know what my learned friend is saying.  Sisenna:  Surely you can infer the meaning.  Rusius:  That is precisely the trap.  +> "You want me to collaborate in constructing the meaning of a word that you have not yet established." That is where insidias enters.  Your Davidson comparison is also apt. In A Nice Derangement of Epitaphs, the speaker and hearer routinely accommodate departures from the established code. Sisenna counts on precisely that accommodation. Rusius refuses it. He insists on a higher threshold. Not:  "I can more or less see what you mean."  but:  "Unless this is already recognizably Latin, I shall not help you by supplying the missing semantics."   And so the jury laughs. Not because the word is wholly unintelligible. But because everybody can see both sides simultaneously:  Sisenna's intended meaning is fairly transparent. Rusius theatrically pretends that transparency is insufficient.  The joke depends on that tension. If the word were completely opaque, there would be no joke. If it were completely ordinary, there would be no joke. The humour lies in the middle ground: enough meaning to tempt interpretation, not enough conventionality to force acceptance. That is why the anecdote feels surprisingly modern—and why Grice, Davidson, Humpty Dumpty, and even Jabberwocky come naturally to mind. Rusius is not denying that a meaning can be guessed; he is challenging Sisenna's right to make him guess it in court. and hence the pun of raising the bar for the Bar (of lawyers). cfr. S: Accusatio sputatilica est. R. Non. b) Cur? c) ??? -- (to third party--this is aped conversation in crossexamination courtroom to a third party). Strctly it would be today to the judge to stop S.: ""Sputatilica" dixist -- quid est sputatilica?" and lay the burden onus probandi on S. Thanks -- this is still different from Humpty dumpty using 'glory' (a nice knockdown argument) or 'impenetrability' (let us change the topic) and the item became fashionable enough to merit entry in lexica -- sputatilicus, -a, -um -- as cited by Cicero in Brutus at mentioned by Atticus re Sussena's description of an 'accusatio' by R. against Hirtilius. Thanks Yes, and I think the forensic setting is essential. The lexicographer's perspective is:  sputatilicus entered the record and later acquired a gloss: "worthy of being spat upon", "despicable."  But Rusius' perspective in the courtroom is much stronger. The exchange is not: Sisenna:  Accusatio sputatilica est. (This accusation is spit-worthy.)  Rusius:  What does "spit-worthy" mean?  Rather, it is closer to: Sisenna:  Accusatio sputatilica est.  Rusius:  I do not acknowledge that as intelligible Latin.  That is why:  Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna; insidias mihi fieri video. ("I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying; I see a trap being laid for me.")  is so important. The word insidiae is not a lexicographical complaint; it is a procedural complaint. Rusius is effectively saying:  "My opponent is trying to obtain the rhetorical advantage of an insult without carrying the burden of using an established word."  One might almost paraphrase him:  "If you want to insult my accusation, do so in Latin." Ha Your "raising the bar for the Bar" joke is excellent. A modern judge might indeed intervene:  Iudex: "Sputatilica" dixisti. Quid est "sputatilica"? ("You used the word 'sputatilica'. What is 'sputatilica'?")  And the burden would shift:  onus explicandi falls on Sisenna.  For Rusius' whole point is:  "Do not make me supply the meaning of your invention."   That is where the contrast with Humpty Dumpty becomes especially sharp. Humpty Dumpty openly adopts a private-language posture:  "When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean."  Rusius' complaint is precisely that Sisenna seems to be moving in that direction. But unlike Humpty Dumpty's glory or impenetrability, sputatilica is not an ordinary word with a private meaning attached. Instead it sits in an uncomfortable middle ground:  it resembles Latin, it hints at sputa, it carries a recognizable evaluative force, yet its status as a legitimate word is contestable.  That is why the joke works. If it were pure nonsense (brillig), nobody would infer anything. If it were ordinary Latin, nobody would object. The humour depends on the hearer being able to see roughly where Sisenna is going while still being able to deny that he has arrived.  The Gricean angle is lovely. Grice would probably grant:  By uttering "accusatio sputatilica est", Sisenna meant that Rusius' accusation was contemptible, or fit to be spat upon.  That is, the audience can recover an intended message. But Rusius' rejoinder is:  Recovery of an intended message is not enough.  The speaker must also satisfy a higher standard of public linguistic acceptability. So Rusius' position is not:  "I cannot guess what you mean."  It is:  "I refuse to accept guessing as sufficient in court."  That is why the appeal to the judges is so central to the drama. He is not merely reporting incomprehension; he is asking the tribunal to refuse semantic cooperation. And that is much closer to a procedural objection than to a lexicographical one. R is not falling insidias and going: "Accusatio mea sputatilica non est." -- cfr. "Virtue is square" -- "Virtue is not square" (some allow the latter). Or "Why do you call my accusatio sputatilica?" Cur --. He goes into the trouble of decompositionality: "sputa" intellego -- ""tilica" non -- Suss. could have said: it's a suffix feminine singular -- -- "As in 'bile' in amabile?" It's sad that the only verbum novum from Sussena is one totally contested and make spittable by our hero 'R' Thanks Yes. I think your reading catches the real force of the exchange. Rusius does not take the bait. The conversational trap would be: Sisenna:  Accusatio tua sputatilica est.  Rusius:  Non est sputatilica. ("It is not sputatilica.")  The moment Rusius says that, he has already granted that sputatilica is a meaningful predicate and that the issue is whether the accusation falls under it. Instead he retreats a level. Not:  Is the accusation sputatilica?  but:  What is sputatilica?  Indeed not even:  Why do you call it sputatilica?  but:  "Sputatilica" quid est?  which is a challenge to the admissibility of the term itself. That is why insidias mihi fieri video is so important. The trap is precisely:  "Accept my word first; then we can argue whether it applies."  Rusius refuses.  Your analogy:  "Virtue is square."  is excellent. Compare: A:  Virtue is square.  One possible reply: B:  No, virtue is not square.  Here B grants that "square" is intelligible and predicates something capable of truth or falsity. But Rusius behaves more like: B:  What do you mean by "square"? Or even: Is "square" being used meaningfully here?  So the dispute never reaches truth-value.  And this is why the decomposition is so clever.  "Sputa" quid sit scio; "tilica" nescio.  Rusius does not attack the whole word indiscriminately. He concedes that it has:  a recognizable appearance,  a resemblance to something Latin. The opening sputa- suggests spitting. But that resemblance is not enough. For Rusius, the burden remains on Sisenna. One can almost imagine the continuation: Sisenna:  It is formed from sputare.  Rusius:  Very good. And what is -tilica?  Sisenna:  ...   Ha The joke works because Sisenna's word looks as though it ought to be analyzable and yet resists easy analysis.  The sadness, as you put it, is almost literary. Of all Sisenna's nova atque inaudita verba, the only one preserved is the one that was mocked. We know Sisenna's linguistic innovation largely through the voice of his critic. So posterity has inherited not:  Sisenna's theory of language,  but:  Rusius' joke about Sisenna's language.  A very Roman fate. And, indeed, a very Gricean one: the history of an expression is determined not only by what a speaker intended, but also by how hearers chose to respond. Here the surviving meaning of sputatilica is almost inseparable from Rusius' refusal to let it pass unchallenged. And Grice does say that one can mean that his tuttee is to bring a paper by uttering "IT is raining." And can we reconstruct in Latin this imagined R. S. Ista Accussation contra Irtilium sputatilica est. and going into analysis with +> as implicature -- moves in Latin with round square Eng. in brackets) -- because it goes further to 'derived from sputare' -- it has a FEMININE ending to agree with 'accusatio' -- 'Twas brillig and the ... and indeed Boethius on blityri as vox significativa non -- hircocircus -- goat-sheep -- it is feminina -- sputatilica -- indeed -icus seems a formative suffix? so the problem is the medial '-ti-'? Thanks -- For Grice, this amounds to his SECOND stage of EXPRESSION meaning -- what an expression means -- which is independent of a correct fofrmulation of what an utterer means (by the uttering of an utterance the token of which includes 'sputatilica') thanks Yes, and I think the Gricean connection lies precisely where you place it: between  utterer-meaning (what Sisenna meant by uttering "sputatilica"), and expression-meaning (what "sputatilica" means as an expression of Latin).  Rusius' move attacks the second in order to avoid conceding the first. Sisenna relies on:  +> sputa- resembles sputare.   +> the feminine ending agrees with accusatio.   +> therefore the jury can recover an insult.  Rusius replies:  "Not so fast. Before I discuss whether my accusation is sputatilica, tell me what sputatilica is."  In Gricean terms, Sisenna is counting on audience participation in the recovery of expression-meaning; Rusius refuses to cooperate.  A possible reconstruction: Sisenna:  Ista accusatio contra Hirtilium sputatilica est. (That accusation against Hirtilius is sputatilica.)  +> It deserves contempt. +> It is fit to be spat upon.  Rusius ad iudices conversus:  Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. (I am ruined, judges, unless you help me.)   Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna. (I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying.)   Insidias mihi fieri video. (I see a trap being laid for me.)  +> My opponent seeks advantage through obscure language.  Sisenna:  Quid est quod non intellegis? (What is it that you do not understand?)   Rusius:  "Sputatilica" quid est? (What is "sputatilica"?)   "Sputa" intellego. ("Sputa" I understand.)   "Tilica" non intellego. ("Tilica" I do not understand.)  +> The expression appears partly intelligible. +> Yet it lacks publicly established meaning.  Sisenna:  A verbo "sputare" deducitur. (It is derived from the verb "to spit".)   Rusius:  Fortasse "sputa" ad sputandum pertinet. (Perhaps "sputa" has something to do with spitting.)   Sed quid est "tilica"? (But what is "tilica"?)   Ubi hoc verbum legitur? (Where is this word found?)  +> Mere resemblance to a known word is insufficient.  Iudex (imagined):  Sisenna, expone quid significet. (Sisenna, explain what it means.)  The burden shifts back to Sisenna.  On the morphology, I agree that the funny point is not the ending. The ending is perfectly ordinary:  sputatilic-a agrees with accusatio (feminine).  Nor is -icus, -ica, -icum inherently strange; Latin forms many adjectives that way. The comic pressure point is the middle:  sputa-tilic-a  which invites analysis but resists transparent analysis. That is why the word resembles neither ordinary Latin nor pure nonsense. It occupies the same middle territory that fascinated later philosophers of language:  Carroll's slithy, Lear's coinages, Grice's obble, potch, cotch, Carnap's Pirots karulise elatically.  The hearer can see how to begin interpreting them. The question is whether he is obliged to continue. Rusius' answer is:  Non sum cooperator semanticus voluntarius. ("I am not a voluntary semantic co-operator.") Ha He refuses to supply the missing steps. That is why the anecdote is so close to Grice's distinction between what a speaker means and what an expression already means in the language. Sisenna bets that utterer-meaning is enough; Rusius insists on a higher public-linguistic standard. and does Latin allow for -icus, -ica, -icum as formative suffix -- in wich case 'sputa' intellego, -ica intellego -- quid sit 'sputa' scio -- quid sit --ica scio -- quid sit '-ti- nescio? Thanks Yes, I think that is a much more interesting line of attack than the usual one. The ordinary reconstruction is:  sputatilicus, -a, -um = "worthy of being spat upon."  But Rusius' joke is not a lexicographer's parsing. It is a rhetorician's parsing. Your proposal is:  "sputa" intellego; "tilica" non intellego  may be a deliberately tendentious segmentation. But another possible segmentation would be:  sputa + tilic + a  or even:  sputa + ti + lica.  Now, as to -icus, -ica, -icum, absolutely yes: Latin has a very productive adjectival ending:  poeta → poeticus orator → oratorius (different suffix, but same kind of adjectival formation) grammaticus tragicus rusticus bellicus  and countless others. So a Roman hearer could very naturally recognize:  -ica  as merely the feminine ending of an adjective in -icus, -ica, -icum. If so, a more sophisticated Rusius could have said:  "sputa" quid sit scio; "-ica" quid sit scio; medium non intellego. ("I know what 'sputa' is; I know what '-ica' is; it's the middle that I don't understand.") Ha That is almost your point exactly. Instead of treating tilica as a unit, one might isolate:  sputa - ti - lica  and ask:  What is this -ti- doing here?  Or:  By what recognized morphological rule do we get from sputare to sputatilicus?  That is actually a stronger philological objection than the one Cicero gives Rusius.  From a Gricean perspective, this is fascinating. Sisenna is counting on what Grice later calls the hearer's readiness to recover an intended meaning. The jury hears:  sputa...  and immediately gets:  +> contempt, +> spitting, +> derision.  The communicative effect is already achieved. Rusius' response is:  I refuse to move from intended meaning to lexical legitimacy.  In modern Gricean language:  utterer-meaning is not enough to establish expression-meaning.  The jury can probably tell what Sisenna intends. Rusius' challenge is:  "Yes, but does the expression itself have any standing in Latin?"   That is why the comparison with Jabberwocky is so apt. Consider:  slithy  A reader immediately gets:  +> slippery, +> lithe, +> unpleasantly fluid.  Yet one can still ask:  Is it an English word?  Similarly:  sputatilica  practically shouts:  +> something bad, +> something fit for spitting on.  Yet Rusius asks:  Is it a Latin word?  And he refuses to let Sisenna move directly from:  "you can see what I mean"  to:  "therefore I have said something admissible."  That, I think, is the forensic force of insidias mihi fieri video. He is not denying the direction of the insult; he is denying that the insult has been formulated in a publicly acceptable linguistic currency. Then perhaps: quid sit 'sputa' scio; quid sit '-ica' scio; quid sit '-til-' nescio? Thanks -- and we can reconstruct each time -- with Judge answering -- "Scis? QUid: Cognatum cum sputare -- Ica scis, quid? cognatum cum adjectivum femininum -- '-til- nescio -- Judge: Why? Thanks -- Objection accepted. Sussena: stop your nonsense. If all you can say in defense of Hirtilius is that our honorable R's accusation against him is 'sputatilica' -- accusation should proceed. Thanks -- Hirtilius charged. Thanks  Ha Yes, one can imagine Rusius escalating the joke into a full forensic objection, and in a way that is surprisingly close to later philosophical worries about admissibility, meaningfulness, and public criteria. A possible reconstruction: Sisenna:  Ista accusatio contra Hirtilium sputatilica est. (That accusation against Hirtilius is sputatilica.)  +> This accusation deserves contempt.  +> It is fit to be spat upon.   Rusius (ad iudices):  Perii, iudices, nisi subvenitis. (I am ruined, judges, unless you help me.)   Intellegere non possum quid dicat Sisenna. (I cannot understand what Sisenna is saying.)   Insidias mihi fieri video. (I see a trap being laid for me.)   Iudex:  Quid est quod non intellegis? (What is it that you do not understand?)   Rusius:  "Sputatilica" quid est? (What is "sputatilica"?)   Quid sit "sputa" scio. (I know what "sputa" is.)  Iudex:  Quid scis? (What do you know?)  Rusius:  Videtur cognatum esse verbo "sputare". (It seems related to the verb "to spit".)   Rusius:  Quid sit "-ica" scio. (I know what "-ica" is.)  Iudex:  Quid scis? (What do you know?)  Rusius:  Videtur forma feminina adjectivi. (It appears to be the feminine form of an adjective.)   Cum "accusatione" congruit. (It agrees with "accusatio".)   Rusius:  Sed quid sit "-til-" nescio. (But what "-til-" is, I do not know.)  Iudex:  Cur? (Why?)  Rusius:  Quia nullam regulam video qua ex "sputare" ad "sputatilicam" perveniatur. (Because I see no rule by which one gets from "sputare" to "sputatilica".)   Non quaero quid fortasse significare velit; quaero quid significet. (I am not asking what it might perhaps be intended to mean; I am asking what it means.)  That last line is especially Gricean. The distinction is:  what Sisenna means by uttering the expression; what the expression means.  Grice would happily grant that Sisenna meant:  +> "Rusius' accusation is contemptible."  Yet Rusius' complaint is:  "Fine. But by what established expression of Latin have you said that?"   One can imagine the judge finally intervening: Iudex:  Obiectio recipitur. (Objection sustained.)   Sisenna, explanandum est verbum. (Sisenna, the word must be explained.)   Sisenna:  Nimis subtiliter agitis. (You are being too subtle.)   Rusius:  Minime. (Not at all.)   Si hoc unum pro Hirtilio dicere potes, accusationem meam esse "sputatilicam", causa procedat. (If all you can say in Hirtilius' defence is that my accusation is "sputatilica", let the prosecution proceed.)    Ha What is fascinating is that, on this reconstruction, Rusius is not denying that the audience can guess the intended insult. He is objecting that courtroom language should not rest merely on guessable meaning. The burden lies on Sisenna to show that the expression belongs to a publicly intelligible vocabulary and is not merely a private rhetorical flourish. That is remarkably close to later concerns about public language, usage (usus), and the distinction between speaker's meaning and expression meaning.

   

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rustio – Ossia: Grice e Rustio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rustio A second candidate A close runner-up is Rustius Caepio, who left money to be paid to newly appointed senators, only for Domitian to annul the provision. [GREXv2 | Word] That raises questions about intention after death: Speranza:  Quid voluit Caepio? (What did Caepio intend?)  Grice:  Ut pecunia daretur. (That money should be given.)  Speranza:  Et factum est? (And was it done?)  Grice:  Non. (No.)  A nice problem about whether intentions survive their author.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rusticelio – Ossia: Grice e Rusticelio -- Grex griceina – verbalia: Rusticello The gens Rusticelia, occasionally spelled Rusticellia, was an obscure plebeian family at ancient Rome. Hardly any members of this gens are mentioned in ancient writers, but a number are known from inscriptions.  Origin The nomen Rusticelius belongs to a class of gentilicia formed from cognomina ending in the diminutive suffixes -illus and -ellus. It appears to be derived from rusticellus, clownish, probably a diminutive of rusticus, rural or unsophisticated, rustic.[1][2]  Praenomina The chief praenomina of the Rusticelii were Gaius, Lucius, Aulus, and Quintus, all of which were very common throughout Roman history. Other praenomina are found infrequently, including Marcus and Publius, otherwise common names.  Branches and cognomina The Rusticelii bore a variety of surnames in imperial times, most of which seem to have been personal cognomina. A number of Rusticelii lived at Ostia, Rome's ancient seaport, where several of them bore the surname Felix, fortunate or happy.[3][4]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Rusticelia, built a tomb at Rome for her son.[5] Rusticelia, buried at Gurulis Nova in Sardinia, with a tomb dedicated by Pamphilus.[6] Rusticelius, a donor to the cult of Vulcan at Ostia in Latium, in the late second century AD.[7] Gaius Rusticelius,[i] a native of Bononia, was praised by Cicero as an experienced and voluble orator from among the allies.[8] Lucius Rusticelius C. f., buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[9] Marcus Rusticelius C. f., buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[9] Quintus Rusticelius, named in an inscription from the present site of Riola Sardo in Sardinia.[10] Quintus Rusticelius, a soldier serving in the century of Quintus Vitulus, buried at Cirta in Numidia.[11] Quintus Rusticelius C. f., buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[9] Quintus Rusticelius Amerymnus, named in a series of inscriptions from Etruria and Umbria.[12] Lucius Rusticelius Anoptes, a freedman buried at Rome in the late first or early second century, together with Rusticelia Tertia.[13] Aulus Rusticelius Aptus, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Lucius Rusticelius Asellarius, buried at Castellum Celtianum in Numidia, aged forty-one.[15] Gaius Rusticelius Athenio, dedicated a tomb at Rome for his client, Rusticelia Lemnias.[16] Rusticelius Atticus, a member of one of the artisanal guilds at Rome early in the fourth century.[17] Gaius Rusticelius Avitianus, buried at Madaurus in Africa Proconsularis, aged forty.[18] Lucius Rusticelius Celer, one of the duumviri jure dicundo at Pompeii in Campania.[19] Aulus Rusticelius A. l. Cinna, a freedman buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Rusticelius Clementianus, flamen at Madaurus.[20] Lucius Rusticelius Communis, buried at Rome in a tomb built by his mother, Mammia Liccaea.[21] Lucius Rusticelius Cosmus, aedile in an uncertain year between 40 and 20 BC, made an offering to Neptune at Tarentum in Calabria.[22] Rusticelius C. f. Crispus, son of Gaius Rusticelius Crispus and Clodia Herais, buried in the family sepulchre built by his father at Ostia, dating to the late second or early third century.[23] Gaius Rusticelius Crispus, a freedman, built a tomb at Ostia for himself, his wife, Clodia Herais, his son, Rusticelius Crispus, and Gaius Rusticelius Felix, dating to the late second or early third century.[23] Rusticelia M. l. Cytheris, a freedwoman named in a funerary inscription from Rome, dating to AD 10.[24] Lucius Rusticelius Dolabella, a rhetorician buried at Rome, aged twenty-six years and six months, leaving a daughter, Rusticelia Selene, and a son, Zosimus Rusticelianus, a slave belonging to the imperial household. Publius Aelius Strato, a freedman of the emperor, paid for his tomb.[25] Aulus Rusticelius Dorus, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Rusticelia Eromene, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Aulus Rusticelius Eros, a freedman buried at Casilinum in Campania, together with Rusticelia Euhemera.[26] Quintus Rusticelius Q. l. Eros, a freedman buried at Rome with his son, Quintus Rusticelius Paratus.[27] Rusticelia A. l. Euhemera, a freedwoman buried at Casilinum, together with Aulus Rusticelius Eros.[26] Gaius Rusticelius Euhemerus, dedicated a tomb at Rome for his friend, Clymenus.[28] Gaius Rusticelius Faustus, built a tomb at Rome for himself and his son, Gaius Rusticelius Minervius.[29] Rusticelius Felix, buried at Carales in Sardinia, aged fifty.[30] Rusticelius Felix, named in an inscription from Ostia in Latium, dating to AD 198.[31] Gaius Rusticelius Felix, named in an inscription from Ostia.[32] Gaius Rusticelius Felix, buried at Ostia, in a tomb built by Gaius Rusticelius Crispus.[23] Gaius Rusticelius Felix,[ii] a native of Africa, was a maker of figurines. He was buried at Rome, aged fifty, with a tomb dedicated by Oppia.[33][34][35][36] Rusticelius Fortunatus, named in an inscription from Pompeii.[37] Rusticelia Gemella, buried at Rome, aged nineteen.[38] Aulus Rusticelius Hilarus, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Quintus Rusticelius C. f. Honoratus, buried at Madaurus, aged thirty-six years, four months.[39] Lucius Rusticelius Hospes, buried at Castellum Celtianum, aged sixty.[40] Gaius Rusticelius Ingenuus, made an offering to Saturn at Carthage in Africa Proconsularis.[41] Rusticelia Lemnias, buried at Rome, aged twenty-five, with a tomb dedicated by her patron, Gaius Rusticelius Athenio.[16] Aulus Rusticelius Martialis, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Gaius Rusticelius C. f. Minervius, buried at Rome, in a tomb built by his father, Gaius Rusticelius Faustus.[29] Rusticelia Namphadora, a girl buried at Madaurus, age ten.[42] Rusticelia Octavianilla, buried at Ammaedara in Africa Proconsularis, aged twenty-eight years, eight days, with a tomb built by her husband, Julius Pallans.[43] Aulus Rusticelius Paratus, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Aulus Rusticelius Paratus, buried at Rome, aged thirty, with a monument from his parents.[44] Quintus Rusticelius Q. l. Paratus, a freedman, buried at Rome with his father, Quintus Rusticelius Eros.[27] Lucius Rusticelius Philomusus, buried at Tibur in Latium, with a tomb dedicated by his wife, Rusticelia Triumphalis.[45] Rusticelia Plaste, buried in a family sepulchre at Rome.[14] Gaius Rusticelius Primitivus, a member of the shipwrights' guild at Ostia in AD 152.[46] Gaius Rusticelius Proculus, a priest at Ammaedara, who together with his wife, Faonia Doniatula, made a libationary offering to the imperial family at the beginning of the third century AD.[47] Rusticelia Ɔ. l. Rufa, a freedwoman, perhaps the wife of Lucius Plautius Scurra, and mother of Lucius Plautius and Plautia Tertia, whose names appear on the monument of their father at Signia in Latium, dating to the middle of the first century BC.[48] Publius Rusticelius Saltator, dedicated a monument to Hercules at Tibur.[49] Lucius Rusticelius Secundus, one of the Seviri Augustales and a decurion at Comum.[50] Rusticelia L. f. Selene, the daughter of Lucius Rusticelius Dolabella, an orator buried at Rome.[25] Rusticelia Sterceia, buried at Madaurus, aged fourteen, together with her mother, Claudia Valeria, aged forty.[51] Rusticelia Tertia, a freedwoman buried at Rome in the late first or early second century, together with Lucius Rusticelius Anoptes.[13] Marcus Rusticelius Tertius, gave pots made by Gaius Vettius Philomusus to Maetennia Europa and Lucius Vibius Gordia at Rome.[52] Rusticelia Tertulla, buried at Madaurus, aged twenty-one.[53] Rusticelia Triumphalis, dedicated a tomb at Tibur for her husband, Lucius Rusticelius Philomusus.[45] Rusticelia Ɔ. l. Tryphera, a freedwoman buried at Rome.[54] See also List of Roman gentes Footnotes  Rusticellus in some manuscripts.  Tudicellius in Gruter. References  Chase, p. 124.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. rusticus.  Chase, p. 111.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. felix.  CIL VI, 25616.  CIL X, 8056,247.  AE 1989, 125.  Cicero, Brutus, 46. s. 169.  CIL VI, 11534.  AE 2001, 1115.  CIL VIII, 7082.  CIL XI, 6689,206a, CIL XI, 6689,206b, CIL XI, 6689,206c.  AE 2001, 430.  CIL VI, 21941.  ILAlg, ii. 1, 3174.  CIL VI, 25620.  CIL VI, 33856.  ILAlg, i. 2675.  CIL IV, 3572.  ILAlg, i. 2133.  CIL VI, 38593.  CIL I, 3168.  ZPE, 81, 238.  CIL VI, 25617.  AE 2001, 583.  CIL X, 497.  CIL VI, 38843.  CIL VI, 15878.  CIL VI, 25615.  CIL X, 7597.  CIL XIV, 4569.  CIL XIV, 263.  CIL VI, 9895.  Fabretti, Inscriptionum Antiquarum, p. 243, No. 669.  Gruter, Inscriptiones Antiquae Totius Orbis Romani, p. mxxxv. No. 3.  Orelli, Inscriptionum Latinarum Selectarum, No. 4279.  AE 2000, 309.  CIL VI, 25619.  ILAlg, i. 2676.  ILAlg, ii. 1, 3175.  AE 2011, 1686.  ILAlg, i. 2677.  ILAfr, 162, 36.  CIL VI, 6932.  CIL XIV, 3835.  CIL XIV, 250.  AE 1992, 1770.  ZPE, 199, 120.  CIL XIV, 3547.  CIL V, 5257.  ILAlg, i. 2378.  CIL VI, 37700.  CIL VIII, 4751.  CIL VI, 25621. Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, Brutus. Jan Gruter, Inscriptiones Antiquae Totius Orbis Romani (Ancient Inscriptions from the Whole Roman World), Heidelberg (1603). Raffaele Fabretti, Inscriptionum Antiquarum, Domenico Antonio Ercole, Rome (1699). Johann Caspar von Orelli, Inscriptionum Latinarum Selectarum Amplissima Collectio (An Extensive Collection of Select Latin Inscriptions), Orell Füssli, Zürich (1828). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). Theodor Mommsen et alii, Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum (The Body of Latin Inscriptions, abbreviated CIL), Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften (1853–present). Gustav Wilmanns, Inscriptiones Africae Latinae (Latin Inscriptions from Africa, abbreviated ILAfr), Georg Reimer, Berlin (1881). René Cagnat et alii, L'Année épigraphique (The Year in Epigraphy, abbreviated AE), Presses Universitaires de France (1888–present). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). Stéphane Gsell, Inscriptions Latines de L'Algérie (Latin Inscriptions from Algeria, abbreviated ILAlg), Edouard Champion, Paris (1922–present). Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik (Journal of Papyrology and Epigraphy, abbreviated ZPE), (1987). John C. Traupman, The New College Latin & English Dictionary, Bantam Books, New York (1995). Category: Roman gentes and your first-best choice for a Grice-Speranza vignette from THIS gens? Thanks

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rusticelio – Ossia: Grice e Rusticelio -- Grex griceina – verbalia: Rusticello For the Rusticelii, my first choice is actually not one of the dozens of funerary names, but the one person whom Cicero bothers to mention:  Gaius Rusticelius, a native of Bononia, whom Cicero praises as an experienced and fluent orator among Rome's allies. [GREXv2 | Word]  That instantly suggests a Grice–Speranza vignette about urban versus provincial speech, a topic very close to both Cicero and later Oxford ordinary-language philosophy. After all, the very nomen Rusticelius ultimately goes back to:  rusticus = rustic, country, unsophisticated. [GREXv2 | Word]  So we have the delicious irony:  "Mr. Rustic" turns out to be a distinguished orator. [GREXv2 | Word]   Grice e Rusticelio Speranza:  Unde venit Rusticelius? (Where does Rusticelius come from?)  Grice:  Bononiae natus est. (He was born at Bononia.) [GREXv2 | Word]  Speranza:  Et tamen orator bonus habetur? (And yet he is considered a good orator?)  Grice:  Ita Cicero dicit. (So Cicero says.) [GREXv2 | Word]   The joke Speranza:  Nomen rusticitatem sonat. (His name sounds rustic.)  Grice:  Nomen, fortasse; sermo non item. (The name, perhaps; not the speech.)  +> A name suggesting rusticity does not entail rustic speech.  Hardie joins in Hardie:  What is a rustic?  Grice:  One who lives in the country.  Hardie:  And what is a Rusticelius?  Grice:  Apparently an accomplished speaker.    Ha The deeper Gricean point The vignette naturally becomes a discussion of usage. Speranza:  Quis Latine rectius loquitur? Romanusne an Bononiensis? (Who speaks more correctly, the Roman or the man from Bononia?)  Grice:  Usus iudicabit. (Usage will decide.)  Hardie:  Not etymology?  Grice:  Certainly not.  +> The meaning and value of speech are determined by use, not by the suggestiveness of names.  That, I think, is more Gricean than any of the epitaphs. For the Rusticelii, the best vignette is: Grice e Rusticelio Oratore because it allows the irony that a man whose very name suggests rusticity becomes, in Cicero's account, a model of accomplished public speech. And that is exactly the sort of tension between name, implication, and actual linguistic performance that fascinated Grice. [GREXv2 | Word] and prophetic in that Bononia:Oxford (Boum Vadum)::Oldest:second-old. BOnonia came to be he place where the oldest apex of erudtion was founded: alma mater 1201? Thanks Yes, there is a delightful retrospective irony there. The Bononia of Cicero's Gaius Rusticelius is of course the Roman city that became medieval Bologna. Cicero merely presents Rusticelius as a distinguished allied orator from Bononia. [GREXv2 | Word] What makes your comparison attractive is the later history:  medieval Bologna became home to the famous University of Bologna, traditionally dated to 1088 and often described as the oldest university in continuous operation; Oxford emerges somewhat later, with teaching attested by the late twelfth century and the university developing in the early thirteenth century.  So your playful proportion:  Bononia : Oxford :: oldest : second-oldest  captures a common historical perception, even if historians are often cautious about exact rankings and founding dates. One can imagine a Grice–Hardie reconstruction: Speranza:  Unde venit Rusticelius? (Where does Rusticelius come from?)  Grice:  Bononiae. (From Bononia.) [GREXv2 | Word]  Speranza:  Parva urbs Italica? (A small Italian town?)  Grice:  Nunc fortasse. Sed exspecta mille annos. (Perhaps now. But wait a thousand years.)  Ha. Hardie:  What becomes of Bononia?  Grice:  A great seat of learning.  Hardie:  Older than Oxford?  Grice:  So they claim.  Hardie:  Then Rusticelius was prophetic?  Grice:  Not prophetic. Retrospectively fortunate.  +> A place later famous for learned speech already produces, in Cicero's account, a notable orator. That last point is perhaps the nicest one. Cicero praises a Bononia orator centuries before Bologna acquires its later reputation as one of Europe's great centres of learning. [GREXv2 | Word] And there is a specifically Gricean twist: a man called Rusticelius ("little rustic") comes from the city that would eventually become one of the great capitals of learned discourse. Names, as Grice would happily remind us, do not always carry the implications we expect. Ha.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Ruta – Ossia: Grice e Ruta: la ragione conversazionale dei corpi sani – l’intersoggetivo è la psiche sociale – filosofia fascista Enrico Ruta (Belmonte Castello, Frosinone, Lazio): la ragione conversazionale dei corpi sani – l’intersoggetivo è la psiche sociale – filosofia fascista – filosofia meridionale. Insegna a Napoli. Conosce e frequenta CROCE. Sviluppa una filosofia in armonia con l'ideologia del regime fascista. Saggi: “Il gusto d'amare” (Millennium); “Insaniapoli” (Campus); “Il segreto di Partenope” (Napoli, Millennium); “L’inter-soggetivo e la psiche sociale” (Milano, Sandron); “Il ritorno del genio di VICO” (Bari); “Politica e ideologia” (Milano, Corbaccio); “La necessità storica dell'Italia nuova” (Napoli); “Diario e lettere” (Bari); “La nascita della tragedia ovvero Ellenismo e pessimismo” (Bari). l’intersoggetivo e la psiche sociale, corpori sani, il concetto di necessita storica in hegel – il concetto del sociale – il carattere del popolo italiano, lo stato italiano – la missione del popolo italiano – la patria italiana, Vico.  Grice: Ho appena incrociato il filosofo Speranza: mi ha detto che in Italia persino un corpo sano ha l’aria di voler conversare con la storia. Ruta: E fa bene: l’intersoggettivo è psiche sociale. Un “corpo sano” non è solo un fatto medico: è un emblema politico, una postura del popolo, quasi una grammatica della patria. Grice: Già—e qui viene l’implicatura (che non dirò). Nel mio Personal identity ero… come dire… obliterent (cioè indulgente, o forse oblioso): trattavo l’identità come catena mnemonica, quasi da solista, e perdonavo—anzi cancellavo—il lato sociale delle identità, quelle che gli altri ti appiccicano addosso prima ancora che tu dica “io”. Ruta: La tua implicatura è sana, Grice—come Speranza concorderà: sana nel senso che vuole rimettere il corpo (e il corpo sociale) dentro l’“identità”. Ma concedimi una cattiveria benevola: le unificazioni analogiche di “sano” sono già abbastanza per farci over-implicare tutto—sana dieta, sano Stato, sana lingua, sana coscienza—e perfino un Griceiano rischia di diventare salutista del concetto. Però sì: la tua dimenticanza del sociale era troppo pulita; la mia “salute” forse è troppo sporca. In mezzo, conversiamo. Please provide a 100-move conversation between G. and Hampshire as they discuss Ruta, 'Il pensiero politico di Vico' -- as per passage below. Because Hamphsrei thinks that Vico has been treated unfairly at Oxford by Collingwood, and BOsanquet, and others as Isaia Berlin, as 'philosopher of history' not language -- and then there's Ruta adding the politics, so they discuss this, and how sematnics comes in and pragamtics rears her ugly head, etc -- and the fact that Vico's, G. thinks, is a politico manifesto, with versions pre-dating the WISEST WISDOM OF THE OLD ITALICS -- itali--a very politically loaded expression -- not Roman, not Latin -- ITALO -- and why the wisest? because of their tongue, and everything zoon politicon, follows from zoon logicon, as they play on the fact that Vico taught rhetoric and was not a senator of the non-existent kingdom of Italy -- keep dry humour Oxonian. No preamble or ps -- thanks -- G.: Hampshire, Oxford has behaved badly toward Vico by being too tidy about him. H.: Oxford is often tidy where it ought to be ashamed. It treated him as a philosopher of history because that was easier to shelve. G.: Quite. Collingwood could admire him while arranging him under providential traffic control. H.: And Bosanquet, in his own larger and more upholstered way, made him sound like a dignified ancestor of historical mind. G.: Whereas Berlin preferred to make him into a precursor of pluralism with sideburns. H.: Which is not wholly false, but far too English in its distribution of praise. G.: The trouble is that all three, in different accents, pushed Vico away from language and toward history as if the latter could be had without the former. H.: And you think that is precisely backwards. G.: I do. Vico is linguistic first, historical because linguistic, and political because language never remains innocent once men live together. H.: Then Ruta’s title is useful. G.: Very. Il pensiero politico di Vico is almost rude enough to be corrective. H.: You like rude corrections when they arrive from Naples. G.: Naples performs rudeness with more metaphysical confidence than Oxford. H.: So Ruta restores the politics that Oxford had deodorised. G.: Exactly. He says, in effect, stop treating Vico as a philosopher of history in a museum and notice that he is writing under civic pressure. H.: And that rhetoric is not an accidental early profession. G.: Quite. Vico taught rhetoric. That should have prevented generations of solemn misunderstanding. H.: Yet in Oxford rhetoric is what one accuses others of having when one wishes to preserve one’s own prose as morality. G.: Or as analysis, which is still more comic. H.: Then where do you put semantics in this? G.: At the front door, where it belongs. Vico knows that peoples make worlds by making meanings public. H.: And pragmatics? G.: Rears her ugly head the moment those meanings are used by institutions, laws, customs, and ceremonies. H.: You really do speak of pragmatics as a woman entering late and rearranging the silver. G.: She deserves no better and no worse. Semantics gives one the terms; pragmatics explains how the terms begin governing bodies. H.: That is almost Vichian. G.: It ought to be. Vico’s words are never merely lexical. They are social acts preserved in speech. H.: So the verum factum principle is not only epistemological. G.: Exactly. It is political before luncheon and philological after. H.: Very Oxford. G.: Very Naples, if we are being fair. H.: And Ruta helps because he insists that Vico’s thought is already a manifesto. G.: Yes. Not a party leaflet, of course. A politico manifesto in the older sense: a declaration about how a people understands itself through its institutions and speech. H.: You think the earlier versions already show that. G.: Certainly. The pre-Scienza nuova materials are full of civic anxiety disguised as learned recovery. H.: And the title itself, De antiquissima Italorum sapientia, is already suspicious. G.: Entirely. Italorum is politically loaded even before Italy exists in the later national sense. H.: Not Romanorum, not Latinorum, but Italorum. G.: Precisely. Italo before Italy, which is the sort of move only a professor of rhetoric could make look archaeological. H.: Why do you think he says wisest? Antiquissima would have done enough work. G.: Because wisdom there is not a compliment but a claim to priority and authority. H.: So the old Italians are not merely old. They are best. G.: Or wisest because their language preserves an order of thought later muddled by philosophy’s own abstractions. H.: You really want tongue to do the work of polity. G.: Why not. Zoon politikon follows from zoon logikon often enough, especially when one has a classroom to fill. H.: Aristotle might say that more carefully. G.: Aristotle was not teaching rhetoric in Naples under Spanish and then Bourbon shadows. H.: Nor was he a senator of the non-existent kingdom of Italy. G.: Exactly. Vico never sat in a senate that did not exist, so he did the next best thing and made civic theory out of language. H.: That is very good. G.: Keep it, but make it drier. H.: I shall embalm it a little. Then explain why Oxford missed this. G.: Because Oxford likes language only when it can be separated from collective destiny. H.: That is severe. G.: True enough to earn severity. Ordinary language was welcomed; national philology with civic consequences was treated as continental upholstery. H.: So Vico as language philosopher would have been inconvenient. G.: Deeply. It would force Oxford to admit that language is historical without becoming merely historical, and political without becoming mere propaganda. H.: And Collingwood, for all his virtues, had an eye for historical consciousness more than for semantic sediment. G.: Very much so. He could hear reenactment more clearly than etymological government. H.: While Berlin liked the anti-monist aroma. G.: Yes, but Berlin often preferred intellectual personalities to lexical machinery. H.: He liked foxes and hedgehogs more than nouns and institutions. G.: A fair English weakness. H.: Then what does Ruta add, exactly, beyond saying politics? G.: He adds the state, the people, the body, the social psyche, all those dangerous singulars. H.: Dangerous because they gather too much. G.: Exactly. Ruta’s vocabulary is unhealthy in a fascinating way. Corpo sano, psiche sociale, popolo italiano. One feels immediately that semantics is about to be conscripted. H.: And pragmatics enlisted. G.: With drums. Words such as people and nation never remain dictionary entries for long. H.: Then your interest in Ruta is diagnostic, not devotional. G.: Entirely. I do not read him to become sane in his sense. H.: Quite wise. G.: I read him because he sees, though often too eagerly, that intersubjectivity is not private thought multiplied but public meaning embodied. H.: Intersoggettivo è psiche sociale, as your passage has it. G.: Exactly. One would want to disinfect the formula before adopting it, but one should not pretend it lacks philosophical pressure. H.: So Vico becomes for Ruta a thinker of the social production of consciousness. G.: Yes, though with enough rhetoric left in the machine to remind us that consciousness speaks before it deduces. H.: And that is where your semantics returns. G.: Naturally. Meanings are not private possessions. They are civic survivals. H.: That sounds like a slogan you might permit yourself before a public class. G.: Only if I could then deny having said it. H.: Then let us examine Italorum again. You think it is loaded because it gathers a pre-national people into a retrospective collective. G.: Precisely. Vico is not saying Roman wisdom, which would narrow the glory, nor Latin wisdom, which would make it too grammatical. Italic wisdom is broader, older, murkier, and politically more recruitable. H.: Recruitable is the word. G.: Thank you. H.: So wisdom is claimed not from empire but from tongue and custom. G.: Yes. Which is why the title is already rhetorical politics. It makes linguistic antiquity available as civic capital. H.: And because he taught rhetoric, he knew exactly how titles behave. G.: Better than many philosophers know how arguments behave. H.: Then Vico’s politics is not merely a doctrine about states but a doctrine about how peoples become thinkable to themselves. G.: Very good. Through myths, laws, tropes, institutions, and above all publicly shared semantic habits. H.: So semantics for Vico is never just reference. G.: Heaven forbid. It is civil memory thickened into words. H.: And pragmatics? G.: The use of that memory in practice: lawgiving, religious observance, punishment, marriage, rank, all the splendid inconveniences of collective life. H.: You make it sound almost cheerful. G.: Only because it is better than reading Bosanquet on a wet afternoon. H.: That would make anything cheerful. G.: Even fascist Neapolitans, for a paragraph or two. H.: Be careful. G.: I am only comparatively cheerful. H.: Then say more about zoon logikon and zoon politikon. G.: My point is simple enough. If man is political because he can share judgments of just and unjust, useful and harmful, then his political life is inseparable from articulated speech. H.: Aristotle says as much, with more authority. G.: Yes, but Vico makes it historical. The logos is not a timeless faculty sitting polished in the soul. It grows in institutions, metaphors, and common usages. H.: So politics follows from language not abstractly but genealogically. G.: Exactly. The city is what happens when utterance hardens into custom. H.: That is almost too neat. G.: It is neat because it is true enough to irritate. H.: Then Oxford should have seen that Vico is a philosopher of language precisely by being a philosopher of social genesis. G.: Yes, but Oxford often divides what Naples joins. H.: That too is severe. G.: Deservedly. We preferred either pure analysis or dignified history. Vico gives neither in isolation. H.: He gives language already wearing civic clothes. G.: Splendid. Keep that too. H.: I begin to think you are preparing a class by theft. G.: All preparation is organised theft from one’s friends and enemies. H.: Then Ruta is useful as enemy and ally both. G.: Precisely. He overstates the political body and thereby reveals something true about the social fate of meaning. H.: While understating the danger of such collective nouns. G.: Quite. Corpo sano is one of those metaphors that begins in medicine and ends in marching. H.: That is very dry. G.: It has earned dryness. H.: Then if you were to state the correction to Oxford in one sentence? G.: Vico is not merely a philosopher of history whom language happens to serve; he is a philosopher of language whose politics and history arise from the public life of meaning. H.: That would annoy several dead men. G.: A useful secondary effect. H.: And Ruta’s contribution? G.: To remind us that Vico’s linguistic world is never politically innocent, and that any wisdom of the old Italians is already a claim about who gets to inherit a people. H.: Which is why Italorum matters more than antiquissima. G.: I should say they conspire. Antiquissima gives age; Italorum gives owner. H.: Owner is perhaps too hard. G.: In politics hard words are often the polite ones. H.: Then why not Romanorum? G.: Because Roman would be too determinate and too imperial. Italic lets Vico gather more without yet answering exactly whom he has gathered. H.: A strategic vagueness. G.: Precisely the kind a rhetorician can make look like scholarship. H.: So even the title implicates more than it says. G.: We are back where civilisation begins. H.: And where Oxford gets nervous. G.: Quite. Once titles start implying peoples, analysts grow pale. H.: You really do think the whole Vichian business turns on public language. G.: I do. The first human wisdom is not a syllogism but a socially inhabited utterance. H.: Which would shock those who prefer the first wisdom to be geometry. G.: They may recover at leisure. H.: Then perhaps your final complaint against Collingwood and the rest is not that they admired Vico wrongly, but that they admired only the part of him that looked safe in English. G.: Exactly. They Anglicised his magnificence by shelving his tongue. H.: That is a good line. G.: Keep it and improve the punctuation. H.: Happily. Now, are you prepared for your class? G.: More or less. I have Vico, Ruta, semantics, pragmatics, Italy before Italy, and Oxford after its manners. H.: And the punchline? G.: Of course. H.: Well? G.: If Vico taught rhetoric because there was no kingdom of Italy to govern, Oxford has spent a century proving that one may misgovern a philosopher perfectly well without founding any kingdom at all.Ruta, Enrico (1899). Il pensiero politico di Vico. Napoli: Pierro.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione – I Verbali: Rutilio – ossia: Grice e Rutilio. (Roma). Filosofo italiano. I. PVBLII RUTILII LUPI 8CHEMATA LEXEOS Rutilio Lupo (Roma): Filosofo italiano. I. P. RUTILII LUPI 8CHEMATA LEXEOS. A = codex Mediceus saec. XIV. B = codex Mediceiis saec. XV. /ii =: cod. Riccardianus saec. XV continens lib. I His copiis nsus est Euhnkenius, v. Praef. p. XIX. F= codex Vindobonensis lat. 179 (— CCXVIII in catal. Endlicheri). C = codices noti sive ABRiV. Eodem signo usi sumus, ubi editiones ah cum codd. manuscriptis conspirant. a = ed. Veneta Aldina a. 1523. b = ed. Basileensis a. Has duas editiones post Rulinkenium iterum ex- cussimus. X = lectiones in margine exempli ed. Basileensis adscriptae, quod Ruhnkenius ab Abr. Gronovio accepit. J = Frid. lacob. Cf. eius edit. Lubecae 1837. R = Ruhnkenius. S = Herm. Sauppe; cf. Fragm. oratorum Atticorum ab eo collecta in ed. Tu- ricensi. St = Robertus Stephanus. LIBER PRIMUS. 1. IlQ06a7t6do6Lg. Hoc schema duobus motlis fieri et Iractari pot- est. Nam sententiis dnabus aut plnribus propositis sna cuiqne ratio vel posterius reddetur vel statim snb nnaqnaqne sententia snl)inngetur. Qni- P. Rutilii Liipi schemala diaiioeas ex Graeco uorsa Gorgia C, sed om. V dia- noeas ; P. Rutilii Lupi de figuris sententiaiiun iiber prior. Ex Graeco Gorgia uorsiis h, PubJii Rutilii Lupi de figuris sententiarum et elocutionum liber L a. Ruhnkenius aucto- rem ipsum hunc tilulum libro suo fecisse censet: P. Riitilii Lupi schemata dianoeas et lexeos cx Graecis Gorgiae versa , quae se7itentia sic accipie^ida videtur ut libellum non integrum aetatem tuUsse statuas; cum enim in duobus qui supersunt libris non fere nisi verborum figurae tractentur, hi qiddem potius 'scliemata lexeos' inscribendi sunt. Cf. Gustavi Dtialas quaestiones Rutil. {Vratisl.). 1 Prosa- podosis edd. recentt. At Graeca figurarum nomina a Rutilio praesc\^pta esse , ex va- riis scripturae vitiis , quae ex V afferemus, facile apparebit. 3 reddatiu- V 1* 4 RLTILRIS LUPUS LIB. L §. 1-3. ]i. 1. 2 ed. fapper bus posterius ratio subinfertur, huius mocU sunt. Demoslhen.s: Non onim pari ratione Philippus atque nos adversis rebus medetu , sed ille usque eo nitilur, quoad restituat atque exsuperet. GRICEVS: Rutili, salve. Hodie in Capitolio ambulans philosophum Spem praeterii; ille mihi, ut solet, tacendo suasit: noli omnia dicere—reliqua relinque implicanda. RVTILIVS: Salve, Grice. Ego autem, ut rhetor (neque me pudet), in meis Schemata lexeos—sic, lexeos in genetivo—de ipsis σχήμασιν versor: non de rebus, sed de formis quibus verba se gerunt. GRICEVS: Nihil dicam aperte—sed cum in Logic and conversation posui illud “figure of speech”, sub corde habebam non tantum colorem elocutionis, sed σχῆma ipsum; et “of speech” contra “of thought”. Hoc saepe discipulis supra cerebrum transit; et tamen numquam mihi arridet figura rhetorica: non satis Ciceronianum sonat—quasi Cicero ipse mallet “figura” sine hospite barbaro. RVTILIVS: Implicatura tua, Grice, rhetorica est, figurativa est, et utriusque quasi coniunctio—ut Spes, vir ille philosophus, consentiet. Nam tu (non dicendo) mones Schemata lexeos non esse solas figuras ad ornandum, sed σχῆmata ad intelligendum: ita “figure of speech” et “of thought” non pugnant, sed se invicem—pulchre et perite—implicant. G.: Let us begin with the nuisance in the phrase, since nuisances are often where philosophy hides. I say implicature is a figure of speech. S.: And I at once ask for my money’s worth. What do you mean, of speech, as opposed to of thought? G.: Exactly the Greek nuisance: nous against lexis, or rather dianoea against lexis, if one wishes to keep Rutilio in the room. S.: So figura is schema, and schema is not mere ornament. G.: Never mere ornament, unless one is reading rhetoric after lunch and too comfortably. S.: Then when you say an implicature is a figure of speech, you do not mean a purple flourish. G.: Certainly not. I mean that it belongs to the way an utterance is shaped for uptake. S.: Shaped in speech rather than merely housed in thought. G.: Yes. A schema of saying, not merely a posture of the soul. S.: Yet the soul is not absent. G.: No more absent than in Aristotle’s account of action. But the point of entry is lexical and utterance-bound. S.: Hence Rutilio. G.: Hence Rutilio. He is doing schemata lexeos, not merely tidying oratorical cuffs. S.: Then your claim is that implicature belongs with schema lexeos. G.: Indeed. And more strongly: all implicature is like that. S.: All? That is a very undergraduate word. G.: I know. I use it here with due caution and only because caution, once advertised, can sometimes be suspended. S.: So all implicature is a figure of speech? G.: Yes, if by that one means that what is conveyed depends on the way the saying is conducted under recognizable conversational form. S.: Not on a private glow in the thinker’s breast. G.: Precisely. Philosophy has been overrun by breasts of that sort. S.: Then let us push further. Is it only the implicatum that is figured, or also the dictum? G.: Very good. Not only the implicatum. The dictum too. S.: That will annoy those who think the said arrives plain and the meant comes dressed. G.: They deserve annoyance. The said is never so plain as they say. S.: Then what is the dictum? G.: The propositional content, complete with its articulated logical temper. S.: That sounds almost respectable. G.: It becomes less so once one unpacks it. S.: Please do. Dryly. G.: The dictum is not just a bare phrastic residue. It comes complete with radix and operator, or if you prefer the later Gricean menagerie, with its internal distribution of forces. S.: You mean the neustic, phrastic, clistic, and tropic. G.: Exactly. The four subatomic particles of civilized assertion. S.: Subatomic is generous. Oxonian conversation usually breaks down at a larger scale. G.: True. But the metaphor behaves. The dictum is not just a phrase-book content. It is a content under mood, closure, and mode. S.: Then the dictum too is schematically configured. G.: Entirely. Which is why I resist the fantasy that only the implicature is rhetorical while the dictum remains some pristinely logical slab. S.: So rhetoric has already entered before the implicature begins its quiet work. G.: Yes. Or rather there is no clean frontier. The utterance is formed throughout. S.: Then Rutilio helps because schema lexeos concerns form as borne by actual saying. G.: Exactly. He gives us a way of speaking about the formedness of utterance without reducing it to decorative excess. S.: Which is useful, since modern philosophy hears rhetoric and reaches for smelling salts. G.: Or for Frege, which is often much the same thing. S.: Then when you write figure of speech, you mean something like an intelligible pattern of utterance by which content is made available under a certain route. G.: Very well put. A route, a shaping, a recognisable arrangement for uptake. S.: And not merely a trope in the schoolmaster’s list. G.: No. Though schoolmasters occasionally preserve truths they do not fully deserve. S.: That is almost charitable. G.: Only almost. Now, the contrast with figure of thought matters because figures of thought are typically taken to belong to reasoning or conceptual arrangement independently of verbal embodiment. S.: Whereas you think implicature requires embodiment in saying. G.: Yes. It is inseparable from the lexis of the occasion. S.: Even if the thought behind it could in some broad sense have been entertained otherwise. G.: Certainly. But implicature is not the thought entertained; it is the thought conveyed by the manner of saying. S.: Then if someone asks whether implicature is psychological or rhetorical, your answer is yes, but not symmetrically. G.: Just so. The psychology matters as enabling condition, but the philosophical identity of implicature is lexical and conversational. S.: Lexical sounds a little narrower than you really mean. G.: Perhaps. Let us say lexeos, then, since Greek improves many things by making them older. S.: Including confusions. G.: Especially confusions. But in this case the Greek helps. Schema lexeos means not mere wording in the dictionary sense, but the formed character of utterance. S.: So a figure of speech is not a frill attached to content, but one way content gets to count as this rather than that in communication. G.: Exactly. Form is not exterior paint. It is internally constitutive of what is taken. S.: Then the old opposition between plain statement and figured implication collapses. G.: It should. The plain statement is usually a retrospective invention of those who dislike paying attention. S.: That sounds like a maxim. G.: A remark, at any rate. S.: Then tell me where thought enters at all. If all implicature is schema lexeos, has figure of thought been pensioned off? G.: Not pensioned off. Merely deprived of monopoly. There are certainly arrangements of thought. But implicature, as I mean it, is not one of them taken in abstraction. S.: Because it arises only where an addressee can recognise a manner of saying as reason-giving. G.: Precisely. Recognition is essential. One does not have implicature in private rehearsal or silent conceptual posture. S.: Unless one talks to oneself. G.: Which many philosophers do, with lamentable results. S.: Then Rutilio becomes unexpectedly modern. G.: He becomes unexpectedly useful, which is better. S.: Is he doing this self-consciously, though? Or are you gently looting him? G.: All learned conversation is a form of licensed looting. S.: That is pleasantly Roman. G.: Rutilian, if you like. He gives categories for the formal life of saying. I press them into a pragmatist service. S.: Prammatica is rettorica conversationale. G.: Exactly. Though one ought to say it with enough seriousness to frighten the literal-minded. S.: They are easily frightened. G.: That is one of their charms. S.: Let us return to the dictum. You said it includes radix and operator. Is that your way of saying that even the said comes already under force? G.: Yes. The said is not merely that p. It is, as uttered, something like asserting that p, asking whether p, ordering that p, and so forth. S.: So the dictum is never a naked proposition wandering the streets unchaperoned. G.: Certainly not. It has illocutionary clothing on from the start. S.: Then the dictum itself already belongs to speech rather than pure thought. G.: Exactly. Which is why I said the dictum, not just the implicatum, belongs in this rhetorical neighbourhood. S.: One begins to suspect that your dislike of a pristine slab is actually a dislike of ideal languages. G.: I have no objection to ideal languages provided they remain ideal and do not attempt colonisation. S.: Yet many will still say: surely the implicature is one thing and the figure another. G.: Only if they insist on treating figure as decoration. Once figure means formedness of saying, the separation becomes artificial. S.: Then every implicature is schematic because every implicature depends on a patterned departure, restraint, emphasis, or arrangement in utterance. G.: Very good. Not necessarily departure in the vulgar sense of flouting, but certainly arrangement under a recognisable norm. S.: Recognisable by rational hearers under conversational assumptions. G.: Yes. Otherwise one has merely noise, affect, or private intention, none of which by itself yields implicature. S.: So the hearer must be able to say, in effect, ah, that was said that way for a reason. G.: Precisely. And that reason is not exhausted by syntax or semantics narrowly construed. S.: Hence rhetoric. G.: Hence rhetoric, but not the sort with peacocks. S.: You really have had enough of ornament. G.: I have had enough of people mistaking ornament for the whole province of rhetoric. S.: Then one could say that implicature is rhetorical in the old and honourable sense: it belongs to the arts by which saying is made apt for civic intelligence. G.: Splendidly put. That is almost Roman enough to please me. S.: Rutilio would approve? G.: He would at least not throw us out. S.: And Speranza? G.: He would add a footnote, a parenthesis, and an etymology, then insist that Oxford had been saying it all along without knowing the Latin was waiting in Rome. S.: That sounds plausible. G.: Most historical wit does. S.: Then let me see if I have it. Implicature is a figure of speech because it depends on the schema of utterance as publicly recognisable form. It is not a figure of thought because it is not merely an inner configuration of concepts apart from saying. G.: Exactly. S.: And the dictum too is schematically formed, since the propositional content comes under the integrated play of phrastic, neustic, clistic, and tropic, rather than arriving as an inert object. G.: Exactly again. S.: Which leaves only the punchline. G.: There is one. S.: I thought so. G.: Very well. If all implicature is schema lexeos, and even the dictum comes dressed for speech, then the philosopher who asks for meaning without rhetoric is rather like a don who asks for tea without water. S.: And what does he get? G.: At Oxford, usually tenure. On the ethnicity point, we do not really know anything more precise than that Publius Rutilius Lupus is treated in the sources as a Roman rhetorician, very likely from a Roman family, perhaps connected with the earlier Pompeian Publius Rutilius Lupus. “Ethnicity” in a modern sense is not something the evidence lets us specify. The safest thing to say is simply Roman, or Latin/Roman rhetorician. [en.wikipedia.org], [catalog.perseus.org] As for date, the usual scholarly placement is early first century CE. One common handbook-style dating puts Publius Rutilius Lupus as flourishing around 25 CE, under Tiberius. Another catalog summary, drawing on Brill’s New Pauly, places him more cautiously at the end of the first century BCE or beginning of the first century CE, roughly contemporary with Seneca. So if you want one simple date for citation, the safest compromise is early first century CE, and if you want a single year for convenience, c. 25 CE is perfectly defensible. [en.wikipedia.org], [catalog.perseus.org] For the date, 25 CE comes out as AUC 778, that is DCCLXXVIII, if one uses the standard Varronian reckoning in which 1 CE = AUC 754. [en.wikipedia.org] So if you wanted the neat citation form, you could write: P. Rutilius Lupus (AUC DCCLXXVIII [= c. 25 CE]). Schemata lexeos. [en.wikipedia.org] As for the incipit, the longest safe incipit I can give from the text itself is this opening of Book I under Prosapodosis: P. Rutilii Lupi De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis. Prosapodosis. Hoc schema duobus modis fieri et tractari potest. Nam sententiis duabus aut pluribus propositis sua cuique ratio vel posterius reddetur, vel statim sub unaquaque sententia subiungetur. Quibus posterius ratio subinfertur, huius modi sunt. Demosthenis: Non enim pari ratione Philippus atque nos adversis rebus medetur: sed ille usque eo nititur quoad restituat atque exsuperet; nos contra statim vinci meditamur. Ille enim pro laude sicut pro patria proeliatur; nobis autem, si nihil accidit mali, satis ac nimium boni videtur. Cum singulis sententiis statim ratio subiungitur, hoc exemplo. Demetrii Phalerei: Nam quod beneficium tempore et cupienti datur, gratum est; utilitas enim ac voluntas accipiendi honorem dantis facit ampliorem. At quod sero et non desideranti datur, ingratum est; amisso enim tempore utilitatis cadit accipiendi cupiditas. [thelatinlibrary.com] If you want the stricter “incipit” in the narrowest sense, then it begins simply: Prosapodosis. Hoc schema duobus modis fieri et tractari potest. Nam sententiis duabus aut pluribus propositis sua cuique ratio vel posterius reddetur, vel statim sub unaquaque sententia subiungetur. [thelatinlibrary.com] One small bibliographical nuisance, worthy of the subject: what survives under Rutilius is usually transmitted under the title De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis, while Schemata lexeos is the Greek-side designation often associated with the underlying source or reconstructed title-tradition. [catalog.perseus.org], [archive.org] If you like, I can next give you: a very compact footnote form, a slightly more classicising Latin citation, or a one-line note explaining Prosapodosis for your passage. Now the Greek tradition took some liberty. He wrote, or his thing he titled in Latin, "De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis" -- so the idea is that he is playing with the plural of the term of art 'schema lexeos' where lexeos is the genitive? and for the singular, is that lexis, nominative. Rutilio is assuming that the equivalent in Latin is sententia -- hence sententiarium and -- why does he add 'et locutionis' -- sententia and locutio I understand -- is the idea that the lexis/nous distinction is ambiguous in Greek and requires two terms in Latin? -- Also, where is one good source of italian library, where the manuscript oldest can be found? Yes, that is very nearly the right way to think about it, with one small caution. In Greek, the singular is lexis, and the genitive is lexeos. So schema lexeos is literally figure or pattern of diction, expression, or wording, with lexeos as the dependent genitive. The plural would be schemata lexeos, figures of diction. [searchwork...anford.edu], [academia.edu] What seems to have happened in the Latin tradition is not that P. Rutilius Lupus simply translated schema lexeos by one exact Latin equivalent, but that the title was widened and clarified. The transmitted Latin title is De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis. That is the title under which the work normally circulates in editions and catalogues. [thelatinlibrary.com], [brill.com], [searchwork...anford.edu] So your instinct is good, but I would phrase it like this. Greek rhetorical vocabulary often distinguishes schemata dianoeas from schemata lexeos, that is, figures of thought from figures of expression. In Latin, sententia is the standard equivalent for dianoea in this rhetorical context, while elocutio is the natural technical term for the expressive or verbal side. So De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis looks like a Latin unpacking of the Greek pair, rather than a mere pluralisation of schema lexeos alone. In other words, the Latin title sounds as if someone wanted to make explicit, in Latin rhetorical idiom, the two domains that Greek technical language could mark more compactly. A recent study even argues that the treatise really does concern both figures of thought and figures of speech, rather than misleadingly promising one and delivering only the other. [scholarlyp...ective.org], [academia.edu], [searchwork...anford.edu] That also explains why he has elocutio rather than locutio. Elocutio is the proper rhetorical term of art in Latin rhetorical theory; locutio would be too loose and ordinary for a title of this kind. So the pairing sententiarum et elocutionis is a consciously technical pairing: thought-content on the one hand, rhetorical expression on the other. [scholarlyp...ective.org], [searchwork...anford.edu] So, if you want the shortest way of putting it in your own prose, I would suggest something like this: The Greek schema lexeos is singular, with lexeos the genitive of lexis; but the Latin title De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis is not merely a literal rendering of schemata lexeos. It seems rather to Latinise the fuller Greek opposition between figures of thought and figures of expression, using sententia for dianoea and elocutio for lexis. [scholarlyp...ective.org], [academia.edu], [searchwork...anford.edu] As for the manuscript, the oldest witness cited in the standard tradition is the codex Mediceus, saec. XIV, usually designated A in the sigla. That manuscript is in Florence, in the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, which is the main Italian library you want. In practical terms, if you want one good Italian repository to cite for the oldest manuscript, that is the place. Their digital and catalogue portals are the obvious starting point for checking the precise shelfmark and, if available, images or catalogue description. [brill.com], [bmlonline.it], [bmlonline.it] So the clean answer to your last question is: Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Florence. If you want, I can next give you, in one compact paragraph only, a footnote-ready formulation combining: the Greek title point, the Latin title point, and the manuscript point, in the dry style you seem to want. So Grice would say, as he did in Aspects of Reason, that he will be involved with dianoia, -- but he would not use sententia -- because what a reasoner reasons is of importance to HIM, not to others. Now, what does the e- add to 'elocutio' -- I can understand that 'sententia' is indeed dianoia, because it's all about the sentire, qua lower passio of the anima, as it were -- anima sentiendi -- the e-locutio trades on the root loqu which may translate Aristotle's slogans like homo talking animal zoon logikon, with logikon cognate with loc- in locutio, and the e- added for rhetorical vacuous ornamentation -- cfr. Austin on the illocution, the locution, the perlocution. In any case, it must pertain to all sort of conversational moves -- and may the idea be that if a thought has to be compleete (dianoia, sententia: "The house never" is not a 'sentence') the idea is that elocution is also? Now metaphor would be a figura eloucutionis -- (Grice assumes that all figures of speech derive from figures of thought). And what is the genitive doing there? if we use, as Hardie would, 'of' -- we have the 'elocutio' which has a 'figure'. because Grice's point is that even the LITERAL is a figure -- or the explicit -- "You are the cream in my coffee" NON-FIGURATIVELY does not make sense--literal or strictly explicit content is just as figurative as metaphor is figurative -- I think the right way to put it is this. Yes, Grice would be much readier to speak of dianoia than of sententia, if the emphasis is on what the reasoner reasons rather than on what is presented for another’s uptake. Sententia in Latin rhetoric can perfectly well render dianoia, but it already leans toward formulated content, what can stand as a “thought” in discourse, almost what can be presented as the content of a sentence or judgment. Grice, especially in the Aspects of Reason mood, wants something prior to that public packaging: the reasoner’s concern with what is to be concluded, inferred, judged, or intended. So sententia is not wrong, but it is a little too public, perhaps even a little too rhetorical, for his strictest purpose. On elocutio, the e- is not vacuous ornament. It is one of those old Latin prefixes that has become lexicalised in the technical term. The base is loqui, to speak, and elocutio is not merely “speech” in the generic sense, but articulated expression, the putting-forth of what one says. In classical rhetorical Latin, elocutio becomes the standard technical term for style or verbal expression, one of the canonical parts of rhetoric. So the e- does not add a detachable philosophical content of its own so much as help mark the word as the technical noun for developed expression rather than mere speaking. Locutio can mean a way of speaking, an expression, a phrase; elocutio is the rhetorician’s more settled term for expression as a formed verbal medium. So I would resist the idea that elocutio is simply locutio with decorative upholstery. It is more that Latin rhetorical theory settled on elocutio as the proper counterpart to the expressive side of discourse. That is why Rutilius, or the title tradition around him, uses sententiarum et elocutionis rather than sententiarum et locutionis. The pair is meant to sound technical: thought-content and verbal expression. And yes, I think your instinct is right that the Latin title is doing a kind of unpacking. Greek can oppose schemata dianoeas and schemata lexeos rather compactly. Latin tends to make the distinction more explicit by using sententia for the thought-side and elocutio for the expressive side. In that sense the Greek distinction is not exactly ambiguous, but it is compact in a way Latin often chooses not to be. Latin likes its furniture slightly more visible. On completeness, again yes. If dianoia or sententia names something like a thinkable or judgeable content, then it must be complete enough to count as such. “The house never” is not a sententia in the relevant sense, because it is not yet a completed content apt for judgment. And elocutio, in the rhetorical sense, is not just any heap of words either. It is expression as formed saying, which means that it too must have some completeness of articulation. Not completeness in the modern logician’s narrow propositional sense only, but enough formal completion to count as an achieved verbal presentation. Rutilius is not cataloguing fragments of noise. He is cataloguing formed ways of saying. That is also why your Gricean extension is interesting. If even the literal or explicit already comes under a figure, then figura elocutionis is not something added only when language becomes “poetic.” It marks the formedness of saying as such. Metaphor is one obvious case of figura elocutionis, but the larger Gricean thought would be that explicit saying is no less dependent on form, route, and publicly recognisable arrangement. In that sense, “literal” is not the absence of figure, but simply the least advertized figure. Or, as Grice might have enjoyed saying if in a slightly Roman temper, the literal is merely rhetoric in a dressing gown. On the genitive, the simplest answer is that in schema lexeos the genitive is just the standard dependent genitive: figure of expression, figure of diction. The “of” is not doing anything very exotic. It marks the domain to which the figure belongs. So yes, one can gloss it in Hardie style as “figure of elocution” or “figure of expression.” The figure belongs to, or is a figure within, expression. Likewise, if one says figura sententiae, one means a figure of thought-content, a figure pertaining to sententia. But the force of your Gricean point is that this “of” should not be heard as if one first had a bare, independent thing called elocutio and then an accidental ornament attached to it. The genitive here is classificatory, not upholstering. A figure of expression is not an embellishment hung on speech from outside; it is a form under which speech is achieved as this kind of saying rather than that. That is why even the explicit, even the so-called literal, can be said to be figured. “You are the cream in my coffee” taken non-figuratively either collapses or becomes trivial beyond use. But more importantly, even a plainer sentence than that still arrives under some form of elocutio. Literality is not raw language before form; it is language whose form has become socially invisible through habit. So if you want one compact formulation, I would suggest this: The Latin title De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis does not merely translate schema lexeos; it expands the Greek rhetorical opposition between thought and expression. Sententia renders the thought-side as content apt for judgment, while elocutio names not mere speaking but formed verbal expression. The genitives are classificatory: figures belonging to thought-content and figures belonging to expression. On a Gricean view, however, the point is stronger still, since even the explicit or “literal” belongs to a figured elocutio; figure is not an optional ornament upon saying, but part of the very form by which anything gets said at all. As for the manuscript library, the place to keep in view is the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana in Florence, since the oldest witness usually cited is the codex Mediceus of the fourteenth century. If you want the simplest library-style reference, that is the Italian repository to name. At one point Grice -- also in Aspects of reason, thinks of value-oriented or value-paradeigmatic expressions -- such as 'cabbage' and 'king' and the example he gives is not just 'reason' -- A reasons from P to C -- as already understood to be _good_ -- but 'sentence' -- sententia -- hence "The house never" was perhaps a bad example, since it can be understood as "the house never was the topic" -- it's more like "Pirots pirots elatically karulise pirots karulise elatically pirots"? And how would Rutilio think of this when he is using 'elocutio' as being attached to a 'sententia' in every case? A cri-de-coeur like "Ouch" is not a sententia and it may be a 'locutio' -- or perhaps it IS a sententia (exclamatio proper) and so ouch can be used 'explicitly figurative' or figurative proper as when you make a bad play on words and self-qualify with "ouch"? Yes, I think your correction about “The house never” is exactly right. It was not a good example if the point is incompleteness in the Gricean or Rutilian sense, because an audience can often repair it pragmatically or grammatically. “The house never” may still be heard as elliptical, suspended, or awaiting completion, and in the right setting it could even count as a complete conversational move. So if one wants a cleaner example of something that fails to rise to sententia in the relevant sense, one wants something more like your pseudo-Boethian case, where there is no settled lexical or syntactic route to a judgeable content. “Pirots pirots elatically karulise pirots karulise elatically pirots” is very much better for that purpose, because it looks as if it has sentence-shape while withholding determinate thought-content. That is important because, in a Gricean mood, “sentence” is often value-loaded. It is not merely any string of words or any acoustic event. It is something fit to carry a complete saying, something that can in principle be taken as the vehicle of a full move in reasoning or communication. In that sense, “sentence” is already a success term, very much as “reason” is. One reasons from P to C only if P and C are already good enough to be reasons and conclusions; and one has a sentence, in the more interesting sense, only if one has something apt for saying, judging, asking, commanding, and so forth. So yes, Grice would likely resist sententia not because it is wrong, but because it comes too close to the public, rhetorical, and already-achieved product, whereas dianoia can still hover nearer the internal business of the reasoner. Now as to Rutilius. He is not, I think, using elocutio as something mechanically attached to a sententia in every possible case. Rather, the pair sententiarum et elocutionis names two dimensions under which rhetorical figures may be classified. Some figures concern what is thought or propositionally arranged; others concern how it is verbally expressed. In practice the two interpenetrate, which is why the title is interesting. But it does not follow that every locutio must be a sententia, or that every vocal emission counts under sententia. Your “ouch” case is exactly where the distinction gets interesting. As a mere cry, “Ouch” may be a locutio in the loose sense of an utterance or vocal act, but not a sententia if by sententia one means something like a complete thought-content apt for truth or falsity, or even a fully articulated judgment. On the other hand, rhetoric and grammar both have ways of upgrading exclamations. Exclamatio is indeed a recognised form, and in a broader rhetorical sense “Ouch” may count as a complete expressive move. So whether it is a sententia depends on how widely one is stretching sententia. If one means complete propositional content, then probably not. If one means a complete and recognisable discourse-act, then perhaps yes, in a looser and more rhetorical way. That is why the Austinian comparison helps. Locutio in Austin is not the same as elocutio in classical rhetoric, but the family resemblance is real enough to be suggestive. Austin’s locution is the act of saying something with a certain sense and reference; illocution is what one does in saying it; perlocution is what one brings about by saying it. Classical elocutio is broader and more stylistic, but it still concerns the achieved verbal form of a communicative act. So the e- in elocutio is not empty decoration, but neither is it doing all the philosophical work. The work lies in the fact that elocutio is already expression as formed saying, not mere sound. And yes, I think your stronger Gricean thought is exactly the interesting one: if explicitness itself depends on form, then the literal is not the absence of figure but only the least noticed figure. Metaphor is then an overt figura elocutionis; but ordinary explicit speech is no less shaped, no less dependent on the conventions and routes of expression by which a content becomes publicly sayable. In that sense, “You are the cream in my coffee” is only the conspicuous case. The deeper claim is that even plainer sayings arrive through a formed elocutio and are therefore figured through and through. This also helps with the genitive. In figura elocutionis, or schema lexeos, the genitive is not best heard as if one had first a bare object called elocutio and then tacked a figure onto it. It is classificatory. The figure belongs to the domain of expression; it is a form within expression. And if one takes your Gricean line seriously, then the literal is not outside that domain. It is simply a figure whose figurativeness has become socially invisible. So I would put the whole thing like this. Grice would prefer dianoia to sententia when he wants to keep attention on what the reasoner reasons rather than on what has already achieved public rhetorical form. Rutilius, however, is working within rhetorical classification, where sententia and elocutio mark two dimensions of formed discourse, the thought-side and the expression-side. Elocutio is not mere generic speaking, but achieved verbal expression. A cry like “ouch” sits on the boundary: not a sententia if one demands full propositional content, but potentially a complete exclamatory discourse-move in a broader rhetorical sense. The larger Gricean point, however, is that even the explicit or so-called literal is already figured through elocutio. Metaphor is simply the more advertized case; ordinary saying is no less shaped, no less schematic, and no less dependent on form. If you like, I can now compress that into a single tight paragraph in your preferred dry style, with a little more Oxonian malice and no visible scaffolding. No, thanks. Just provide another 100-move conversation between G. and S. as a bit of a continuation to the previous one you've given, adding the material of the sessions that followed that. No preamble or ps, just keeping the humour dry and oxonian, as G. is EXPLICLTY preparing for a class to give at Examinations Hall, open to any member of the university -- on something that appeals to him, andknows that those who attend may take something out of it, even if he is freely 'publishing' his thoughts without expected uptake on the mater. His teaching role was different as tutorial, where he would assign weekly essay assignments. But classes -- especially those he delivered without co-seminarist, where a different animal, and often he left some room at the end of the class for discussion. In this case, this is what it is. Thanks G.: I must prepare this for the Examinations Hall with a straight face, which is always the first difficulty of philosophy. S.: And the second? G.: Hoping that members of the university may take something out of it without my being held responsible for what they take. S.: You are giving it publicly, then, not as a tutorial. G.: Certainly not as a tutorial. A tutorial is a weekly sentence with a carpet and a witness. S.: Whereas a class in the Hall is a freer animal. G.: Freer, yes, though never wild. Oxford only permits wildness when it can later deny it. S.: And this is one of your own classes, without co-seminarist. G.: Exactly. No Pears to civilise me, no Warnock to look judicial, no Austin to correct the weather. S.: Then you mean to leave time at the end for discussion. G.: I do, though one says that in a tone suggesting generosity rather than danger. S.: But you rather like the danger. G.: Only in others. In oneself it is called exposure. S.: Then what is the announced topic? G.: Rutilio, naturally, and the inconveniences of calling implicature a figure of speech. S.: Which is exactly the sort of thing that may attract every member of the university and satisfy only six. G.: Six is abundance in philosophy. Twelve is a movement and twenty a mistake. S.: You are thinking of the playgroup again. G.: I am always thinking of the playgroup when numbers become morally significant. S.: But this is not the playgroup. G.: No. The playgroup was para-professional marmalade. This is bread and butter presented with a napkin. S.: Yet you intend to speak as if conversation were still possible. G.: One must. A class without the possibility of conversation is merely dictation with upholstery. S.: Still, the Hall alters the thing. G.: Of course. In a tutorial the pupil has been assigned, prepared, and cornered. In the Hall he arrives under no duty except curiosity, vanity, bad weather, or an interval before luncheon. S.: So your public hearer is not a tutee. G.: Thank God. A tutee is a moral category as much as an academic one. S.: And your role is different too. G.: Entirely. In a tutorial I assign weekly essays and then punish their consequences. In a public class I publish a line of thought with no guarantee that anyone will carry it home properly. S.: So this is philosophy as free circulation. G.: Free in the Oxford sense. Available to all members of the university, though not necessarily equally survivable by all. S.: That sounds almost liberal. G.: It is merely administrative. S.: Still, you like this sort of thing better than the official lecture. G.: Better and worse. Better because one may try an idea in the open without packaging it for print. Worse because the open attracts persons. S.: Persons being the traditional hazard. G.: Especially members of the university. They arrive furnished with questions. S.: Which you invite. G.: Only at the end. One must never allow the discussion to begin before the distinctions have been laid out, or Oxford will mistake interruption for thought. S.: Then the class has a shape. G.: Naturally. Even free publication requires architecture. S.: How will you begin? G.: With the nuisance in the phrase, since nuisances are often where philosophy hides. I say implicature is a figure of speech. S.: You are reusing the opening. G.: Reusing is what civilisation calls remembering. S.: And from there to nous and lexis. G.: Yes. One must get the Greek nuisance on the table before the English tidy-mindedness makes a mess of it. S.: And Rutilio enters as custodian of schemata lexeos. G.: Exactly. A Roman at the door to keep the moderns from thinking rhetoric means peacocks. S.: That will disappoint some classicists. G.: Classicists are resilient. They have survived metre. S.: Then in the Hall you will say that all implicature is schematic. G.: I shall say it and then immediately retreat into explanation, as one does after dropping an undergraduate word like all. S.: You enjoy that moment. G.: It is one of the few remaining privileges of seniority. S.: And you will also say that even the dictum is figured. G.: Yes. Otherwise one leaves the audience with the consoling delusion that only the implicature is rhetorical while the said remains a marble bath. S.: You mean to disturb the worshippers of the plain sentence. G.: Gently. One does not smash idols in the Hall; one rearranges them and watches who notices. S.: Then the dictum arrives with neustic, phrastic, clistic, and tropic in tow. G.: The four subatomic particles of respectable utterance, yes. S.: That may be too much for some of the audience. G.: Good. A public class should contain at least one item that embarrasses the merely diligent. S.: And after that? G.: After that I move to the title question. Why De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis if the Greek keeps schemata dianoeas and schemata lexeos in tighter order. S.: You mean to bring in sententia and elocutio. G.: Of course. One cannot mention Rutilio in public and then deny the audience its genitives. S.: But will they endure the genitive? G.: Members of the university must endure something. Otherwise why keep the Hall. S.: Then you will say sententia is not quite your word. G.: Yes. I shall say that Grice, if he were feeling himself in Aspects of Reason trim, would prefer dianoia where sententia sounds already too public, too formed, too nearly the thing as available to others. S.: Because what a reasoner reasons matters to him before it matters to the audience. G.: Precisely. Though a public class is no place to sound too solipsistic. One must keep enough sociability for the Rector’s ghost. S.: And elocutio? G.: There I shall insist that the e- is not vacuous decoration. It marks not lace but the settled rhetorical noun for articulated expression. S.: Not mere locutio, then. G.: No. Locutio would be too loose, too everyday, too close to speaking as event. Elocutio is expression as formed saying. S.: Which helps your thesis that even the literal is figured. G.: Exactly. The so-called literal is only rhetoric whose clothes have become socially invisible. S.: Will you give an example? G.: I may mention cream in coffee if I feel the room has earned it. S.: That is generous. G.: I am not always. S.: And the manuscript business? Will you touch it? G.: Briefly. Enough to say that the oldest witness takes us to Florence and that one should never trust a title tradition to remain philosophically tidy. S.: So no codicological orgy. G.: This is the Examinations Hall, not a paleographer’s cellar. S.: Then where does the conversational theme enter most fully? G.: In the point that schemata lexeos are not ornaments added to content but public forms under which content is achieved, recognised, and made inferentially available. S.: So the public class itself becomes an instance. G.: Inevitably. I am trying to say something in a formed way to hearers who may or may not recognise why I say it as I do. S.: Which means the class about conversation is itself a conversational performance. G.: Yes, though with benches. S.: And without weekly essays. G.: Mercifully. The Hall does not return essays. It returns faces. S.: You make that sound worse. G.: It is worse. An essay at least lies still. S.: Yet this public form appeals to you. G.: It does. There is a peculiar pleasure in addressing those who need not be there. S.: Because they come under no compulsion. G.: Exactly. Tutorial duty produces a captive audience, which is useful but morally untidy. A public class gathers the voluntarily endangered. S.: And you know some will take something from it. G.: One hopes so. Not necessarily what I intended, but some residue, some distinction, some improved suspicion about “figure of speech.” S.: Even if uptake is uncertain. G.: Especially then. Publication without guaranteed uptake is one of the few civilised gambles left to a don. S.: You make it sound noble. G.: It is only less squalid than grading. S.: Will you mention the difference between your classes and Austin’s sessions? G.: Not explicitly. The Hall is no place for family gossip under another name. S.: Yet the contrast matters. G.: It does, but only obliquely. Austin’s occasions were controlled climates, para-professional and bounded. My public class is official in venue, unofficial in motive, and open enough to remind one that Oxford still occasionally behaves like a university rather than a sorting machine. S.: That is almost affectionate. G.: Do not spread it about. S.: Then what do you hope the audience will hear, if they hear anything worth hearing? G.: That the distinction between figure of thought and figure of speech is too blunt for the life of utterance, and that rhetoric, understood properly, belongs not merely to decoration but to the very possibility of publicly recognisable meaning. S.: That sounds almost publishable. G.: A public class is where one discovers whether a thought deserves the fatigue of publication. S.: So this is testing the line before it goes to paper. G.: In part. Also enjoying it before paper ruins it. S.: You really think print ruins things. G.: Print fixes what conversation keeps decent by movement. S.: Yet you publish. G.: I sin with the rest. But a class lets one leave a margin at the edge of assertion, a little air around the dictum. S.: And the discussion period after? G.: There the university may show whether it has listened or merely attended. S.: You expect a question about metaphor. G.: Certainly. There is always one person who thinks metaphor is the whole province and another who thinks it a regrettable suburb. S.: And perhaps someone will ask whether all this means that explicit content is impossible. G.: I shall say no, explicit content is possible, but only under forms of saying that are themselves not innocent of figure. S.: That will annoy the plain men. G.: Plain men need exercise. S.: And the classicists? G.: They will be pleased to hear Greek uttered in public and disappointed by my accent, which is the correct relation between Oxford and antiquity. S.: What of the tutees in the room, if some come? G.: They must enjoy the rare spectacle of their tutor speaking without immediately converting speech into assignment. S.: That may be the greatest philosophical novelty on offer. G.: Quite possibly. S.: And if no one asks anything at the end? G.: Then I shall have been clearer than usual, which would be a professional misfortune. S.: You prefer some resistance. G.: Naturally. A class without a question is either a triumph or a failure, and one should never too quickly decide which. S.: What sort of question would please you? G.: One that shows the hearer has seen that “of speech” does not mean “merely verbal,” and that “figure” does not mean “frill.” S.: What sort would displease you? G.: “Can you recommend a secondary source?” uttered with administrative innocence. S.: Someone will ask it. G.: Then the university will have justified its architecture. S.: Are you nervous? G.: Only in the healthy sense that public thought ought not to feel wholly upholstered. S.: And if the room is larger than expected? G.: Then I shall become more Roman and less conversational. S.: Rutilio in self-defence. G.: Precisely. S.: You do realise that what you like best in these occasions is not simply to teach but to release a thought into the university and see whether it breeds. G.: That is too biological, but not false. S.: So this public class is a form of philosophical sowing. G.: If you insist on agriculture. I should have preferred architecture. S.: Very well: a laying of stones in public. G.: Better. One lays them and watches who later mistakes them for a path. S.: Then perhaps that is the right contrast with the tutorial. There you assign a route; here you lay a few stones and leave the walkers to themselves. G.: Splendid. Keep that. S.: I thought you might. G.: It is exactly right. The tutorial commands labour; the public class offers orientation. S.: And the playgroup? G.: The playgroup tested companionship. S.: So there are the three forms. G.: Yes. Tutorial as weekly discipline, class as public orientation, playgroup as chosen conversational luxury. S.: Bread and butter, bread offered, and marmalade. G.: You have improved my menu. S.: I try to keep up. G.: Then perhaps I shall end the class by saying that if rhetoric belongs to the conditions of saying, philosophy ought not to blush at being heard in public. S.: That would be almost civic. G.: Examinations Hall encourages occasional civility. S.: And the punchline? G.: Since it is open to any member of the university, I shall probably say that if even the literal comes dressed for speech, then a public class is merely the university’s way of admitting that naked thought was never properly dressed for the Hall in the first place. S.: And what, in Oxford, is naked thought called? G.: Usually discussion after the lecture.Rutilio Lupo, Publio (DCCLXXVII A. V. C.). De figuris sententiarum et elocutionis. Codex Mediceus A. Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rutilio – Ossia: Grice e Rutilio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rutilio. The gens Rutilia was a plebeian family at ancient Rome. Members of this gens appear in history beginning in the second century BC. The first to obtain the consulship was Publius Rutilius Rufus in 105 BC.[1]  Origin The nomen Rutilius is derived from the Latin cognomen Rutilus, red or reddish, which was probably borne by an ancestor of the family who had red hair. The nomen belongs to a large class of gentilicia derived from other names using the suffix -ilius.[2]  Praenomina The Rutilii used relatively few praenomina, chiefly Publius, Lucius, Marcus, and Gaius, all of which were among the most common names throughout Roman history. The only other praenomen found under the Republic was Quintus, known from Quintus Rutilius, quaestor in 44 BC.  Branches and cognomina The Rutilii of the Republic bore the cognomina Calvus, Lupus and Rufus. In addition to these, the coins of the Rutilii include the surname Flaccus, which does not occur in literary sources. Other cognomina occur in the imperial times. A number of Rutilii bore no surname.[1] Rufus, red, was typically given to someone with red hair, and this choice of cognomen may have been influenced by the fact that the nomen Rutilius has the same meaning.[3] Another of the surnames of the Rutilii, Calvus, indicated someone bald, while Lupus, a wolf, belongs to a common type of cognomen derived from familiar objects and animals.[3][4][5] Flaccus indicated someone flabby, or with floppy ears.[3][6]  Members This list includes abbreviated praenomina. For an explanation of this practice, see filiation. Spurius Rutilius Crassus, according to Livy, one of the consular tribunes in 417 BC, is probably a mistake for Spurius Veturius Crassus, named by Diodorus Siculus, since no other Rutilii are mentioned for over two and a half centuries.[7][8][9] Rutilii Rufi Publius Rutilius (Rufus?), tribune of the plebs in 169 BC, opposed the actions of the censors with regard to the publicani and one of his own clients, and brought them to trial, in retaliation for which they removed him from his tribe, and degraded him to the status of an aerarius.[10][11] Publius Rutilius P. f. Rufus, had served as a military tribune under Scipio Aemilianus in Spain, praetor circa 118, and as consul in 105 took emergency measures to protect Rome following a series of military disasters in Gaul. He was falsely exiled for repetundae in 92. Rufus was an ally of Gaius Marius, granduncle of Caesar.[12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21] Gaius Rutilius (P. f.) Rufus, a friend of Quintus Mucius Scaevola, was one of those who accused Manius Aquillius, the consul of 129 BC, of repetundae, or extortion in the government of his province.[22] Rutilia P. f., wife of Marcus Aurelius Cotta, and later Lucius Aurelius Cotta. By Marcus, she was the mother of Gaius Aurelius Cotta, the orator. By Lucius, she was the mother of Aurelia, the mother of Caesar.[23][24] Publius Rutilius Nudus, a legate serving under the consul Marcus Aurelius Cotta at Chalcedon in 74 BC.[25][26][27] May have been the son of the consul of 105.[28] Rutilia P. f., daughter of Publius Rutilius Nudus and the wife of Lucius Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus the consul of 58 BC.[29] Rutilii Lupi Publius Rutilius L. f. L. n. Lupus, consul in 90 BC, at the beginning of the Social War, appointed Marius as his legate, but through lack of experience led his men into an ambush, and was mortally wounded.[30][31][32][33][34][35][36][37][38] Publius Rutilius (P. f. L. n.) Lupus, tribune of the plebs in 56 BC, proposed repealing Caesar's agrarian law. Praetor 49, at the beginning of the Civil War, he was a partisan of Pompeius, and stationed at Tarracina, but departed before Caesar's arrival, returning to Rome. In 48, Pompeius appointed him governor of Achaia.[39][40][41] Publius Rutilius (P. f. P. n.) Lupus, a grammarian and rhetorician, active during the reign of Tiberius. He was the author of De Figuris Sententiarum et Elocutionis, a collection of translated passages from Greek authors, many of which are no longer extant in the original.[42] Marcus Rutilius Lupus, prefect of Egypt from AD 113 to 117, during a revolt in Alexandria and Hermopolis. Others Publius Rutilius Calvus, praetor in 166 BC, probably received the province of Hispania Ulterior. Some scholars identify him with the tribune degraded in 169, but Münzer suggests that the tribune was one of the Rutilii Rufi.[43][44] Publius Rutilius M. f., tribune of the plebs in 136 BC, ordered Gaius Hostilius Mancinus to vacate his seat in the senate, on the grounds that his Roman citizenship had been revoked when the senate handed him over to the Numantines following his defeat the previous year.[45][46] Rutilius, one of Sulla's officers, whom he sent to Gaius Flavius Fimbria in 84 BC.[47] Gaius Rutilius, mentioned by Cicero as one who had been accused by a certain Gaius Rucius, should perhaps be read Hirtilius.[48] Lucius Rutilius Flaccus, triumvir monetalis around 75 BC, and a senator in 72. Publius Rutilius, a witness named by Cicero in support of Aulus Caecina, whom he defended in his oration, Pro Caecina, in 69 BC.[49] Marcus Rutilius, placed in charge of distributing land to Caesar's soldiers in 45 BC.[50][51] Quintus Rutilius, quaestor urbanus in 44 BC.[52][53] Gaius Rutilius Secundus, equestrian governor of Mauretania Tingitana from AD 48 to 53.[54] Gaius Rutilius Gallicus, praefectus urbi during the reign of Domitian.[55][56] Rutilius Geminus, author of a tragedy entitled Astyanax. Fulgentius connects him with the Libri Pontificales.[57][58][59] Rutilius Maximus, a jurist, and the author of Ad Legem Falcidiam, a treatise on a law enacted in 40 BC by Publius Falcidius, tribune of the plebs, requiring that the heir of an estate had to take at least one quarter of the property in question.[60] Claudius Rutilius Numatianus, praefectus urbi circa AD 413 or 414, was a native of Gaul, and the author of an elegy known as the Itinerarium, or De Reditu, in two books, composed about 417. He was a pagan, and his writing shows some hostility to Jewish and Christian practices.[61] Rutilius Taurus Aemilianus Palladius, the author of De Re Rustica, a treatise on agriculture, perhaps dating to the fifth century.[62] See also List of Roman gentes References  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, pp. 680, 681 ("Rutilia Gens").  Chase, pp. 110, 122, 123.  Chase, pp. 109, 110.  Chase, pp. 112, 113.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. Lupus.  New College Latin & English Dictionary, s. v. Flaccus.  Livy, iv. 47.  Diodorus Siculus, xiii. 7.  Broughton, vol. I, p. 73.  Livy, xiii. 16, xiv. 44.  Broughton, vol. I, pp. 425, 427 (note 3).  Cicero, Pro Fonteio, 13, Brutus, 30, Pro Balbo, 11.  Livy, Epitome, lxx.  Velleius Paterculus, ii. 13.  Valerius Maximus, ii. 10. § 5.  Seneca the Younger, De Beneficiis, vi. 37.  Ovid, Epistulae ex Ponto, i. 3, 63.  Suetonius, De Illustribus Grammaticis, 6.  Orosius, v. 17.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, pp. 681, 682 ("Publius Rutilius Rufus").  Broughton, vol. I, pp. 491, 494, 527, 528 (note 1), 536, 537 (note 5), 547, 549, 552, 555, vol. II, pp. 8, 9 (note 6).  Cicero, Divinatio in Caecilium, 21, Brutus, 40.  Seneca, Consolatio ad Helviam, 16.  Cicero, Epistulae ad Atticum, xii. 20, 22.  Appian, Bella Mithridatica, 71.  Orosius, vi. 2.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 105.  "Sp.Rutilius Crassus". Roman Nobilitas Prosopography and Genealogy. 28 September 2014. Retrieved 22 May 2023.  "Sp.Rutilius Crassus". Roman Nobilitas Prosopography and Genealogy. 28 September 2014. Retrieved 22 May 2023.  Appian, Bellum Civile, i. 40, 43.  Orosius, v. 18.  Velleius Paterculus, ii. 15, 16.  Livy, Epitome, 73.  Pliny the Elder, ii. 29. s. 30.  Florus, iii. 18.  Obsequens, 115.  Cicero, Pro Fonteio, 15.  Broughton, vol. II, pp. 15, 25  Cicero, Epistulae ad Quintum Fratrem, ii. 1, Epistulae ad Familiares, i. 1, 2, Epistulae ad Atticum, viii. 12, A. § 4, ix. 1. § 2.  Caesar, De Bello Civili, i. 24, iii. 55.  Broughton, vol. II, pp. 209, 258, 278.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. II, p. 841 ("Rutilius Lupus").  Livy, xlv. 44.  Broughton, vol. I, p. 427 (note 3), 437 (and note 1).  Cicero, De Oratore, i. 40.  Broughton, vol. I, p. 487.  Appian, Bella Mithridatica, 60.  Cicero, Brutus, 74.  Cicero, Pro Caecina, 10.  Cicero, Epistulae ad Familiares, xiii. 8.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 313.  Josephus, Antiquitates Judaïcae, xiv. 219.  Broughton, vol. II, p. 326.  Spaul, "Governors of Tingitana", p. 237.  Juvenal, xiii. 157.  Statius, Silvae, i. 4.  Fulgentius, Expositio Sermonum Antiquorum, 7.  Bothe, Poëtae Scenici Latinorum, p. 270.  Boyle, An Introduction to Roman Tragedy, p. 277.  Digesta, 30. s. 125.  Wernsdorf, Poëtae Latini Minores, vols. ii, v, part 1, prolegomena.  Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, vol. III, pp. 99, 100 ("Rutilius Taurus Aemilianus Palladius"). Bibliography Marcus Tullius Cicero, Brutus, De Oratore, Divinatio in Quintum Caecilium, Epistulae ad Atticum, Epistulae ad Familiares, Epistulae ad Quintum Fratrem, Pro Balbo, Pro Caecina, Pro Fonteio. Gaius Julius Caesar, Commentarii de Bello Civili (Commentaries on the Civil War). Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca Historica (Library of History). Titus Livius (Livy), History of Rome. Publius Ovidius Naso (Ovid), Epistulae ex Ponto (Letters from Pontus). Marcus Velleius Paterculus, Compendium of Roman History. Valerius Maximus, Factorum ac Dictorum Memorabilium (Memorable Facts and Sayings). Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger), De Beneficiis (On Kindness), De Consolatione Ad Helviam (To Helvia, on Consolation). Gaius Plinius Secundus (Pliny the Elder), Historia Naturalis (Natural History). Publius Papinius Statius, Silvae. Decimus Junius Juvenalis, Satirae (Satires). Flavius Josephus, Antiquitates Judaïcae (Antiquities of the Jews). Gaius Suetonius Tranquillus, De Illustribus Grammaticis (On the Illustrious Grammarians). Lucius Annaeus Florus, Epitome de T. Livio Bellorum Omnium Annorum DCC (Epitome of Livy: All the Wars of Seven Hundred Years). Appianus Alexandrinus (Appian), Bella Mithridatica (The Mithridatic Wars), Bellum Civile (The Civil War). Julius Obsequens, Liber de Prodigiis (The Book of Prodigies). Paulus Orosius, Historiarum Adversum Paganos (History Against the Pagans). Fabius Planciades Fulgentius, Expositio Sermonum Antiquorum (Explanation of Ancient Words). Digesta, or Pandectae (The Digest). Johann Christian Wernsdorf, Poëtae Latini Minores (Minor Latin Poets), Altenburg, Helmstedt (1780–1799). Friedrich Heinrich Bothe, Poëtae Scenici Latinorum Fragmenta (Fragments of the Latin Theatrical Poets), Heinrich Vogler, Halberstadt (1822). Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology, William Smith, ed., Little, Brown and Company, Boston (1849). George Davis Chase, "The Origin of Roman Praenomina", in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, vol. VIII, pp. 103–184 (1897). T. Robert S. Broughton, The Magistrates of the Roman Republic, American Philological Association (1952–1986). J.E.H. Spaul, "Governors of Tingitana", in Antiquités Africaines, vol. 30 (1994). Anthony James Boyle, An Introduction to Roman Tragedy, Routledge (2006). Categories: RutiliiRoman gentes And from THIS gens? Thank you

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rutilio – Ossia: Grice e Rutilio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rutilio. For the Rutilii, my first-best choice would be neither the consul nor the family of Caesar's grandmother, but: Grice e Rutilio Lupo Grammatico  Publius Rutilius Lupus, active under Tiberius, author of De Figuris Sententiarum et Elocutionis, a collection preserving rhetorical figures translated from Greek authors. [GREXv2 | Word]  Why him? Because Grice spent his entire life worrying about what is said, what is implied, and what rhetorical devices contribute to communication. A writer on figurae sententiarum ("figures of thought") is almost tailor-made for a Gricean dialogue.  Grice e Rutilio Lupo Speranza:  Quid est figura sententiae? (What is a figure of thought?)  Grice:  Modus aliquid dicendi quo plus significatur quam explicite dicitur. (A way of speaking by which more is conveyed than is explicitly said.)  +> Conversational implicature lurks nearby.  Speranza:  At rhetorica et implicatura non idem sunt. (But rhetoric and implicature are not the same thing.)  Grice:  Recte. (Correct.)  Speranza:  Quid interest? (What is the difference?)  Grice:  Figura saepe quaeritur; implicatura saepe oritur. (A figure is often intentionally sought; an implicature often arises.) Ha The rhetorician Lupus touches the very nerve of Grice's philosophy of language.  A Gricean climax Speranza:  Cur legis Rutilium Lupum? (Why do you read Rutilius Lupus?)  Grice:  Quia figuras colligit. (Because he collects figures.)  Speranza:  Et quid colligis ex figuris? (And what do you learn from figures?)  Grice:  Homines raro tantum dicunt quantum dicunt. (People rarely mean only what they say.)  +> The literal sentence is often only the beginning of communication. That, I think, is the most distinctively Gricean figure in the whole gens Rutilia. [GREXv2 | Word]

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rutilio – Ossia: Grice e Rutilio -- Grex griceiana – verbalia: Rutilio. The alternative candidate A close second is Publius Rutilius Lupus, the famous consul of 105 BC who was later exiled on a false charge of extortion. Cicero, Seneca, and others admired him. [GREXv2 | Word] That would produce a wonderful dialogue on:  justice, false accusation, the difference between guilt and conviction.  But that theme is broadly moral and political.

 

Speranza, J. L. (n. d.). ‘H. P. Grice e J. L. Speranza: La Conversazione: I Verbali: Rutilio – ossia: Grice e Rutilio: la ragione conversazionale -- NAM CVM ESSET ILLE VIR EXEMPLVM VT SCITIS INNOCENTIÆ CVM ILLO NEMO NEQVE INTEGRIOR ESSET IN CIVITATE NEQVE SANCTIOR NON MODO SVPPLEX IVDICIBVS ESSE NOLVIT SED NE ORNATIVS QVIDEM AVT LIBERIVS CAVSAM DICI SVAM QVAM SIMPLEX RATIO VERITATIS FEREBAT – Roma. Note su Dicta. Il Gruppo di Gioco di H. P. Grice. Publio Rutilio Rufo (Roma, Lazio): la ragione conversazionale -- NAM CVM ESSET ILLE VIR EXEMPLVM VT SCITIS INNOCENTIÆ CVM ILLO NEMO NEQVE INTEGRIOR ESSET IN CIVITATE NEQVE SANCTIOR NON MODO SVPPLEX IVDICIBVS ESSE NOLVIT SED NE ORNATIVS QVIDEM AVT LIBERIVS CAVSAM DICI SVAM QVAM SIMPLEX RATIO VERITATIS FEREBAT – Roma – filosofia italiana –  (Roma). Filosofo Italiano. Scolaro di Panezio. Combatte sotto Numanzia agl’ordini d’Emiliano SCIPIONE  come tribunus militum ed e pretore urbano. Al pari di MARIO  – e SCEVOLA augure, R. segue come legato Quinto Metello nella guerra contro Giugurta. Quando Mario, quale console, assunse il comando dell’esercito, R. ritorna a Roma. Console. R. segue l’amico Marco Scevola l’augure nel suo pro-consolato d’Asia. Condannato ingiustamente per accuse di nemici che si è procurato con la sua rigida onestà, R. vive da prima a Mitilene e poi a Smirne, e rifiuta l'invito di SILLA  di accompagnarlo a Roma. CICERONE conosce Rufo a Smirne. A Smirne, Rufo scrive un "De vita sua" e una storia di Roma. È oratore. I suoi discorsi hanno per la loro aridità impronta del Portico. Coltiva gli studi giuridici. Militari romani e politici romani. Console della Repubblica romana. Muore a Smirne. Gens: Rutilia. Console. Militare, politico e storico romano. Comincia la sua carriera militare al seguito d’Emiliano Scipione Africano minore, nella guerra in Spagna. R. è legato di Quinto Cecilio Metello Numidico, proprio nel corso della guerra contro Giugurta, durante la quale, fra i sotto-posti di Metello, vi è anche Gaio Mario. Si distinse nella battaglia del Muthul, nel corso della quale fronteggia un attacco di Bomilcare e organizza la cattura o il ferimento della maggior parte degl’elefanti da guerra numidici. Eletto console, ha come collega Gneo Mallio Massimo, il quale arriva secondo all'elezione. Le sue iniziative principali riguardarono la disciplina militare e l'introduzione di un migliore sistema di addestramento delle truppe. Roma.  GRICEVS: Rufe, salve. Philosophum Spem modo conveni: ille dixit me nimis amare exempla; ego respondi me exemplis vivere—praesertim cum Romani sic vivant. RVFVS: Salve, Grice. Si exempla amas, ecce tibi meum: ille locus quem semper recitant, quasi lapidem in foro—et tamen pauci intellegunt quid agat. GRICEVS: Nihil dicam aperte—sed ipsum audi, totum, ut iubes: “NAM CVM ESSET ILLE VIR EXEMPLVM VT SCITIS INNOCENTIÆ CVM ILLO NEMO NEQVE INTEGRIOR ESSET IN CIVITATE NEQVE SANCTIOR NON MODO SVPPLEX IVDICIBVS ESSE NOLVIT SED NE ORNATIVS QVIDEM AVT LIBERIVS CAVSAM DICI SVAM QVAM SIMPLEX RATIO VERITATIS FEREBAT.” Quasi dicat: ornatus est suspectus; simplex ratio sola licet. At inter nos—si quis tam “simplex” est, saepe plus significat quam dicit. RVFVS: Implicaturae tuae, ut solet, me obstupefaciunt—sicut ipsam Speranzam saepe obstupefecerunt, Grice. Nam tu ex uno elogio arido Porticus statim elicisti artem: quod “simplex ratio” non est nuditas, sed electio; et quod qui ornatum recusat, interdum ipso recusandi modo ornatius loquitur. So if we go by gens, surely this goes ordered alphabetically under Rutilio -- a very noble gens. Speranza wonders if Rutili is a surname in Italian today? Yes, if the ordering principle is gens, then Publio Rutilio Rufo belongs under Rutilio, that is, under the nomen of the gens Rutilia, not under Rufo, which is only the cognomen. In Italian catalogue terms, that is exactly the same logic as filing a Quinto Giunio Rustico under Giunio rather than Rustico. [en.wikipedia.org], [archive.org] One tiny dry correction. The gens Rutilia was plebeian, not patrician; “noble” in the broad sense of later prominence, yes, but not one of the old patrician houses. The first consul from the family was Publius Rutilius Rufus in 105 BC. [en.wikipedia.org] As for the modern surname, yes, Rutili does exist as an Italian surname today, and that is the form most worth keeping in view. One onomastic source explicitly groups RUTILI, RUTILIO, and RUTILLI, and says they may derive from the ancient gens Rutilia, or from the Latin cognomen Rutilus, or from the praenomen/nomen Rutilius. It also notes that Rutili is characteristic of the Spoleto/Rome area, while Rutelli and Rutilli are rarer variants. [heraldrysi...titute.com], [en.wikipedia.org], [en.wiktionary.org] So the tidy answer is: Yes, Publio Rutilio Rufo should be ordered under Rutilio if Speranza is filing by gens. And yes, Rutili is a modern Italian surname, with rarer related forms such as Rutilio, Rutelli, and Rutilli. One may plausibly connect them with the old gens Rutilia, though, as always, Rome did not keep baptismal registers for our convenience. [en.wikipedia.org], [heraldrysi...titute.com], [en.wiktionary.org] If you like, I can next give you: a one-line Speranza-style catalogue note beginning “Strictly, he belongs under Rutilio,” or a short impersonal entry-note on Rutili as a surviving Italian surname-form. And that's a nice touch, because he goes just after Publio Rutilio Lupo -- the infamous rhetorician. I wonder why one went by Rufus, the other by Lupus? Yes, exactly; it is a rather good catalogue joke. If you file by nomen, Publio Rutilio Rufo follows neatly after Publio Rutilio Lupo, and Rome begins to look almost alphabetically designed. As to why one is Rufus and the other Lupus, the short answer is that these are cognomina, not gentilicia. They distinguish branches or individuals within the same broader name-system. So both are Rutilii by gens, but one bears the cognomen Rufus and the other Lupus. Rufus is very common in Roman naming and usually means red-haired, red, or ruddy. It began as a descriptive nickname and then hardened into a family cognomen. So a Rutilius Rufus is, at least in origin, something like the red or red-haired Rutilius. Lupus means wolf. That too is a standard Roman cognomen. Sometimes such animal names may have had a totemic, characterological, or simply nickname origin, but one must be careful not to become too imaginative. Romans were perfectly capable of calling a man Wolf without expecting him to howl. So the dry answer is that one went by Rufus and the other by Lupus because Roman aristocratic naming wanted a third term to distinguish individuals within the same gens, and those third terms often came from physical traits, animals, habits, places, or inherited family nicknames. If you want the slightly more pointed version: Rutilius is the nomen. Rufus and Lupus are cognomina. Rufus is a very common descriptive cognomen, usually red-haired or ruddy. Lupus is an animal cognomen, wolf, equally normal in Roman onomastics. In other words, they are not alternatives in rank, but alternatives in the third slot of the Roman name. One might say that the gens supplied the filing system, and the cognomen supplied the local colour. And yes, for Speranza’s ordering, that produces the nice effect: Rutilio Lupo then Rutilio Rufo which sounds almost as if rhetoric had to make way for probity. If you like, I can give you next a very short impersonal note in Speranza’s style beginning: Strictly, both belong under Rutilio; Lupus and Rufus are merely cognomina.