Collecting Stoicism

Collecting Stoicism (forthcoming in The Book Collector) JOHN SELLARS In his De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum Cicero describes visiting the library of his friend Lucullus only to find sitting there Cato the Younger, defender of the Republic and a hero for later Roman Stoics such as Seneca and Lucan, surrounded by a pile of Stoic books.1 I too am often found sitting surrounded by piles of Stoic books, although unlike Cato these are not papyrus scrolls containing the works of Chrysippus of Soli, whose 700 or so works have almost all been lost, save a few quotations from later authors and some scraps of charred papyrus dug up at Herculaneum.2 The Stoic books that I find myself surrounded by are a mixture of modern academic studies that form a working library and a number of early printed editions of Stoic and Stoic-related authors. My book collecting grew out of my academic interests and it always felt like a natural and inevitable progression. It all began at university. I was never a great reader of books as a child and at school excelled in mathematics and physics rather than anything that involved reading. It was only in my late teens that I started to explore books, mainly modern European literature and books in the history of political thought. A small shelf of Penguin Classics and Modern Classics developed. I have a vivid teenage memory of lying on the sofa and reaching the end of Cicero, De Finibus 3.7: ‘I was down at my place at Tusculum, and wanted to consult some books from the library of the young Lucullus; so I went to his country-house, as I was in the habit of doing, to help myself to the volumes I needed. On my arrival, seated in the library I found Marcus Cato; I had not known he was there. He was surrounded by piles of books on Stoicism’ (as translated by H. Rackham in the Loeb Classical Library edition). 1 2 A fairly full list of Chrysippus’ works can be found in Diogenes Laertius (on whom more later). The surviving fragments and testimonia were gathered together by H. von Arnim in what is still the standard collection, Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, 4 vols (Leipzig: Teubner, 1903-24). 2 Thomas More’s Utopia, thinking to myself ‘I’ve just read my first proper book’. That taste for serious books discussing serious ideas led me to a degree in Philosophy. Because that degree in Philosophy was taken in the wilds of west Wales (St David’s University College, the oldest university in England and Wales after Oxbridge, founded in 1822, since renamed and amalgamated), it was not long before I discovered Hay on Wye. For a student on a limited budget discovering the world of books for the first time, Hay is (or at least seemed then) a paradise. I quickly discovered, and became hooked on, the old Everyman’s Library series. These slim little volumes with traditional sewn bindings and proper cloth covers (for philosophy titles, in striking bright blue) could be had for a couple of pounds each and made new paperback editions seem an appalling prospect by comparison. As a politically conscious student I could also pretend to myself that they were ecologically, and so ethically, superior to anything freshly made with raw materials by a large corporation. Within a few trips to Hay I had assembled a more or less complete set of the Everyman philosophy titles, along with numerous other volumes from the series. I have them all still. A few years later I found myself back in England completing a PhD in ancient Greek philosophy, although the trips to Hay never stopped. As I had not benefitted from a classical education, it was at this point that I worked on gaining some reading knowledge of Greek and Latin, as well as a more thorough foundation in all things classical. I went far beyond what was required for my research, and it often felt as if I was taking a second degree in Classics alongside a doctorate in Philosophy. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It also brought back memories of the only books I ever really remembered enjoying as a small child: Asterix. It was within this context that I vividly remember buying my first leather bound books. Based in Leamington Spa in the late 1990s, the three towns of Leamington, Warwick, and Stratfordupon-Avon together offered a good number of general second-hand 3 bookshops in which unwanted leather bound volumes of Greek and Latin texts could be had for not much money at all. The very first ‘old’ book I bought was a copy of the Septuagint printed in Leipzig by Tauchnitz in 1824. It seemed like an antiquity at the time. The fact it had ‘iuxta exemplar originale Vaticanum Romae editum MDLXXXVII’ printed across the middle of the title page added further to this. A small collection of Greek and Latin authors clothed in leather followed, mainly Teubner editions. One significant find stood out from those early local shopping trips: a copy of John Baskerville’s octavo New Testament in Greek (Oxford, 1763) for a paltry sum, even if it needed rebinding. By this point I had read a few things about the history of printing, knew who Baskerville was, and knew that this was a real find. I’ve since seen copies for sale for over twenty times what I paid. These experiences all contributed to a taste for old books but they didn’t constitute serious collecting, merely chance finds from local rummaging. The first step towards collecting proper was prompted by my academic research. I was writing on, among other things, the Stoic philosopher Epictetus. I was especially interested in his short Handbook (Encheiridion), probably compiled by his pupil, the noted historian Arrian. I soon learned that a commentary had been written on the Handbook by the sixth century Neoplatonist Simplicius. This commentary discussed the nature and purpose of the Handbook, which was just what I was working on. Moreover it was the only commentary on a Stoic text to survive from antiquity, which made it all the more fascinating. Simplicius’ commentary is quite a long text, and my Greek was coming along but it was far from perfect, so I wanted a translation to guide me. At that point the only translation into English was by George Stanhope in his Epictetus his Morals, with Simplicius his Comment, first printed in 1694 and reprinted in 1700, 1704, 1721, and 1741. I was able to access it on microfilm via an incredibly cumbersome machine at my university, but naturally I wanted my own copy and eventually I managed to track one down (3rd edn, 1704). The thing was 4 this: while modern editions of Epictetus’ Handbook were divided into 53 chapters, Stanhope’s translation of Simplicius was divided into 79 chapters. Why didn’t the two neatly correspond to one another? What was going on? What edition of Simplicius was Stanhope translating? Had the Handbook always been divided into 53 chapters and, if not, who first divided it that way? Nothing I had read commented on these kinds of textual or bibliographical questions. There seemed to be only one way to find out what was going on and that was to look myself at early editions of both Epictetus and Simplicius. Oxford was thankfully only a short train ride away and I already knew the Bodleian reasonably well. I called up in advance every early printed edition of my two authors I could find listed in the catalogue and prepared myself for my first ever visit to the Duke Humphrey library. It was there, at Seldon End, in what I still think is the most magical place I know, that I first became acquainted with properly old books. Not only was the atmosphere, and not least the smell, of being surrounded by these books overpowering, but right in front of me in my own hands were copies of the editiones principes of both Epictetus’ Handbook (1529) and Simplicius’ Commentary (1528), as well as numerous other editions of both texts, most notably Hieronymus Wolf’s edition of 1560 and later reprints from 1595 and 1670. I soon resolved my trivial question but, more importantly, that was the day I became a serious book collector. It was not long after this that I bought my first properly old book. I was fortunate enough to have funding from The British Academy for my postgraduate research. I also did a small amount of paid teaching at my university and, because my essential expenses were covered by my studentship, when the teaching pay arrived it was always additional pocket money. Not long after one payday I was visiting London, primarily for The British Museum. Afterwards we browsed in some of the bookshops in Great Russell Street and round the corner to Unsworths in Bloomsbury Street 5 (before their various moves). There I saw, protected behind glass, a short fat book bound in vellum with “Epicteti Encheiridion” inked on the spine. I had to look at it. It was a copy of Wolf’s edition printed in Cologne in 15956, three volumes in one, containing not only the Handbook but also Simplicius’ Commentary (albeit only in a Latin translation). I had to have it. It was, by the standards of my book expenditure to date, a huge amount of money, but it was less than the recent pot of pocket money so, with a very deep breath, I bought it. My better half, not known for her extravagance, was almost hyperventilating. I think it was not only due to the amount of money being handed over right then but also because she knew this was the beginning of something that could quite easily spiral out of control. I knew that I couldn’t make a habit of visiting specialist London dealers and regularly paying London prices. My budget simply wouldn’t allow it. I also knew from my Baskerville find that knowledge was power when it came to book hunting in the provinces. So I focused on learning as much as possible about the bibliographies and printing history of the ancient authors I was most interested in and hunted on foot and online for copies whose vendor didn’t really know what they had. I studied the bibliography of Epictetus by Oldfather and one for Marcus Aurelius by Wickham Legg.3 I also learned much from Dibdin’s guide to the Greek and Latin Classics.4 When looking for books I always focused my attention on the contents, not the binding, with the thought that items could always be rebound in the future if or when funds allowed. These tactics enabled me fairly quickly to buy a number of books otherwise well beyond my student budget. Although some of these were not pretty by the standards of high-end dealers, they W. A. Oldfather, Contributions Toward a Bibliography of Epictetus (Urbana: University of Illinois, 1927), with Contributions Toward a Bibliography of Epictetus: A Supplement, ed. M. Harman (Urbana” University of Illinois Press, 1952); J. Wickham Legg, ‘A Bibliography of the Thoughts of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus’, Transactions of the Bibliographical Society 10 (19089; published 1910), 15-81. 3 T. F. Dibdin, An Introduction to the Knowledge of Rare and Valuable Editions of the Greek and Latin Classics, 4th edn, 2 vols (London, 1827). 4 6 were in no worse shape than most of the books I had consulted at Duke Humphrey. In any case, I aspired to the library of a scholar, not an aristocrat, so tatty seemed appropriate, to the point that I became somewhat dismissive of fine bindings for a good while. Some examples: I picked up a copy of Thomas Gataker’s 1652 edition of Marcus Aurelius in a miserable modern black buckram library binding, and have since had it rebound in full leather by my then local binder, John Richards of Leamington Spa. Gataker’s edition is comprised of the Greek text, a Latin translation, and a substantial commentary filling almost 440 double column pages. The noted Classicist and book collector Ingram Bywater praised it as ‘a book of unquestioned value and authority’.5 On a couple of trips to Hay I found, seemingly dumped and forgotten, a copy of the later 1697 edition of Gataker’s Marcus (supplementing his already extensive commentary with the notes of Dacier), in a hideous bright red library binding (since rebound more appropriately, with only one small library stamp hinting at its former life) and a copy of Johannes Schweighauser’s 1798 edition of Epictetus’ Handbook, with its enormous introduction on the editorial history of the text that I had been exploring ‘hands on’ in the Bodleian. These were the beginnings. The transition from student to teacher led to a modest increase in budget and so while the bargain hunting continued, it also became possible to make a few return trips to London dealers too. The collection of Epictetus has been augmented with John Upton’s 1741 edition of all his works, in two small quarto volumes, and with Schweighauser’s aptly named Epicteteae Philosophiae Monumenta published in 1799 and 1800. Five volumes in six, ‘Schweighaeuser’s truly monumental work must be at the disposal of every serious student of Epictetus’ I had read, I. Bywater, Four Centuries of Greek Learning in England (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1919), p. 14. Further opinions on Gataker’s edition are gathered together in J. Sellars, ‘Thomas Gataker (1574-1654)’, in R. B. Todd, ed., Dictionary of British Classicists, 3 vols (Bristol: Thoemmes Continuum, 2004), II: 359-61. 5 7 and so of course I had to have it.6 For a brief moment it seemed as if I had an opportunity to get my hands on a copy of the editio princeps of Epictetus’ Discourses, edited by Vittore Trincavelli and printed in 1535. A kindly book dealer told me about the then upcoming Macclesfield Library sales at Sotheby’s, which happened to include a copy of Trincavelli’s edition.7 I made an advance bid somewhere in the middle of the guide price, but the book went for over twice the most I felt able to commit, subsequently appeared on the market for twice the hammer price with a well-known London dealer (the same one that alerted me to the sale, as it happened), and then appeared again a few months later with a dealer in California (if I remember correctly) with the price doubled again. At the end of these rapid deals the final asking price was almost ten times my meagre bid. The whole experience was one of extreme disappointment mixed with mild relief, as at the time I didn’t really have the money to cover my bid if I had won it. That has been my one and only experience of auctions. If Trincavelli’s editio princeps is likely to remain forever out of reach, I do at least have a more modest one in the form of Meric Casaubon’s first edition of the medieval Christian paraphrase of Epictetus’ Handbook, printed in 1659. I also have Meric’s 1643 edition of Marcus Aurelius,8 which he was preparing at the same time as and independently of Gataker. The editions by Casaubon and Gataker were preceded by the editio princeps of Wilhelm Xylander. This was issued in two forms: one with no date (but a preface dated October 1558) and another identical but for the addition of the date 1559. Some people think the undated version is the true first and was issued in 1558. My own view, based on no evidence at all, is that both probably 6 R. P. Oliver, ‘Politian’s Translation of the Enchiridion’, Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 89 (1958), 185-217, at 210. 7 See The Library of the Earls of Macclesfield removed from Shirburn Castle, Part Eight: Theology, Philosophy, Law and Economics (London: Sotheby’s, 2006), no. 2642. 8 Casaubon had already published the first English translation of Marcus Aurelius in 1634, from which we take the most popular English title for the work, Meditations. 8 come from the same print run done in 1559, with someone noticing that the date was missing during printing and adding it half way through. Both contain the Greek text facing Xylander’s Latin translation. While this bilingual edition was being printed in Zurich, Xylander’s Latin version was printed on its own in Lyon by Joannes Tornaesius, and I have a copy of this Latin only edition, dated 1559. It came to me by post from Florence. These early editions of Marcus Aurelius are kept company on my shelves by a range of eighteenth and nineteenth century editions and translations of the Meditations. These include a 1704 Oxford edition (reprinting Gataker’s text) that was also part of the Macclesfield library. This was part of a lot of four books at Sotheby’s, and I bought it separately from an American dealer later. There is something pleasing about the fact that the copy I now have at home is the one that is pictured in the catalogue, and this felt like a minor consolation for missing out on Trincavelli at the sale itself.9 Printed ‘e Theatro Sheldoniano’ and with an engraving of its birthplace on the title page, this is one of a number of early Oxford productions I have gathered.10 Another Marcus book worth noting is Jeremy Collier’s translation of the Meditations (2nd edn, 1708), which includes an English translation of Gataker’s Latin introduction to the text printed in his edition. Talking of eighteenth century translations I must not forget to mention the first complete translation of Epictetus into English by Elizabeth Carter, published in 1758, with a list of the original subscribers that includes, among other notables of the day, Dr Johnson. This hefty quarto was acquired for a comically low price on eBay. Selections of Carter’s translation were reprinted with an introductory essay in 1822 under the title 9 My copy is illustrated in the Sotheby’s catalogue, p. 218. A full list would include Creech’s Lucretius (1695), Cicero’s De Oratore (1696), the above mentioned Marcus Aurelius (1704), Ivie’s Epictetus (1715), Cicero’s De Officiis (1717), and slightly later, with the imprint ‘E Typographeo Clarendoniano’, Forster’s Plato (1800), Simpson’s Epictetus (1804), and Wilkinson’s Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics (1809). The earlier volumes are all listed in the Appenidx to H. Carter, A History of the Oxford University Press: Volume I To the Year 1780 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975). 10 9 The Christianity of Stoicism.11 This book has a special significance for me and it took many years of hunting to locate a copy. The editor, described on the title page as ‘The Bishop of St. David’s’, was Bishop Thomas Burgess who, also in 1822, founded my alma mater St. David’s University College. The book was printed just down the road in Carmarthen. It’s of little scholarly value but the connection made it irresistible. My first significant edition of Seneca was Justus Lipsius’ monumental 1605 folio edition of his prose works printed by Moretus at the Plantin Press in Antwerp. This large folio has a magnificent engraved title page along with a number of other fine engravings and extensive commentary by Lipsius. Dibdin comments that ‘it is a book of very common occurrence in this country, and may be obtained at a moderate price’.12 This may well still be true as I have seen a number of copies for sale since acquiring mine, both of the original 1605 edition and of the later editions of 1614, 1632, 1637, and 1652. My copy formerly belonged to L. D. Reynolds, Professor of Latin at Oxford who prepared the Oxford Classical Texts editions of both Seneca’s Epistulae (1965) and Dialogi (1977), as well as writing studies of the medieval transmission of these works.13 ‘When Reynolds cites conjectures from Lipsius in the critical apparatus of the standard edition of Seneca, he is not just citing this edition, he is citing this copy’, I thought to myself when I first found it. This is probably the most internally beautiful book I have and I was so amazed by it when I first bought it that I thought there would be no reason to own any other early printed edition of Seneca. In time that thought inevitably passed and it has since been joined with an earlier folio 11 According to the Supplement to Oldfather, p. 92, this was preceded by an edition printed in 1818. A little later, after moving to become Bishop of Salisbury, Burgess produced a similar volume under the title Connexion Between Sacred and Profane Literature (Salisbury, 1835). 12 Dibdin, II: 397. See L. D. Reynolds, The Medieval Tradition of Seneca’s Letters (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965) and ‘The Medieval Tradition of Seneca’s Dialogues’, Classical Quarterly 18 (1968), 355-72. 13 10 edition from 1557, printed in Basel and edited by Celio Secondo Curione, which reproduces much of Erasmus’ editorial material from his edition of 1529. I also have a set of Daniel Elzevier’s 1672 reprint of Lipsius’ text in three octavo volumes (needless repetition at one level but irresistible all the same). Dibdin claims that this is ‘a scarce and valuable book’,14 although when I bought this copy the dealer had two sets from which to choose, neither of which was particularly expensive. The Elzeviers are of course best remembered for their smaller duodecimo editions and they produced editions of Seneca in this format too. I do not have one of these but I do have a duodecimo edition of Gronovius’ notes on Seneca, issued by the ‘Officina Elseviriana’ (i.e. Bonaventure and Abraham Elzevier) in Leiden in 1649, and printed as a companion to one of these smaller Seneca sets.15 The perfect complement to Lipsius’ folio is Thomas Lodge’s translation of Seneca’s prose works into English, also in folio. It was first published in 1614 and reprinted in 1620; I have a copy of the 1620 reprint. Lodge’s edition, when placed side by side with Lipsius’ edition, graphically illustrates how far behind British printing was compared with the Continent. It too has an engraved title page (by Renold Elstrack, ‘the foremost English engraver of his time’16) and Lodge translates much of Lipsius’ supporting material (a ‘life of Seneca’ and synopses of each work) but in its execution it is inferior to the production of the Plantin Press in every conceivable way. In 14 Dibdin II: 398. 15 Dibdin recommends the 1640 Leiden edition as ‘the best duodecimo Elzevir edition’ (II: 397). It was, he tells us, reprinted with the notes of Gronovius in a fourth volume in 1649 and 1658. My 1649 copy of Gronovius makes no mention of being the fourth volume of a set. I presume it was thus also issued separately, presumably for owners of the 1640 edition. Indeed, E. Rahir, Catalogue d’une collection unique de volumes imprimés par Les Elzevier (Paris, 1896), lists the 1649 Gronovius and the 1649 Seneca (in 3 vols) as separate editions (see nos 665 and 671). Antony Griffiths, ‘Elstrack, Renold (b. 1570, d. in or after 1625)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/ view/article/8763, accessed 12 April 2013]. 16 11 internal appearance it is not too dissimilar to Shakespeare’s first folio, printed three years later. Lodge’s edition was printed by William Stansby, who had printed the first folio of Ben Jonson just a few years before, in 1616. Lipsius was not just an editor of ancient texts and his own works include a number of books dedicated to the study and revival of Stoicism. Three books stand out to the student of Stoicism: De Constantia Libri Duo of 1584 and the Manuductionis ad Stoicam Philosophiam Libri Tres and Physiologiae Stoicorum Libri Tres both of 1604. The first editions of these texts seemed well beyond my reach but later reprints would do for my academic work; I just wanted the texts. Eventually I found online a very high-end European dealer offering what they presumably thought was a fairly tatty set of three quarto volumes containing a selection of Lipsius’ works, once belonging to a monastic library. The curt description listed it as an ex-library collection of reprints of works by Lipsius, followed by a list of titles. That list included all three works that I was after. Although not cheap I knew I would be lucky to get just one of those works for the price of this set, so I ordered it. Imagine my delight when it finally arrived and a quick inspection revealed that all three of my desired books were first editions. Into the bargain I also had a further ten works by Lipsius all printed at the Plantin Press between 1600 and 1609.17 More recently I managed to acquire a copy of the other great work of Stoic scholarship from this period: Isaac Casaubon’s famous edition of the works of Seneca’s nephew, Persius, containing the brief text of Persius (23 pp.) followed by a massive commentary (558 pp.) full of information about Stoicism. The scale of the commentary famously led Joseph Scaliger to For an illustrated catalogue of Lipsius’ works see F. de Nave, Justus Lipsius (1547-1606) en het Plantijnse Huis (Antwerp: Museum Plantin-Moretus, 1997). There is also an older, comprehensive bibliography: F. Van Der Haeghen, Bibliographie Lipsienne: Oeuvres de Juste Lipse, 2 vols (Ghent/Gand: Université de Gand, 1886). 17 12 comment that the sauce was better than the meat.18 Although not as systematic as Lipsius’ two works printed a year earlier, Casaubon’s efforts also make an important contribution to early scholarship on Stoicism. A slightly later and somewhat different piece of early scholarship on Stoicism can be found in Denis Diderot’s Essai sur la vie de Sénèque le Philosophe, sur ses écrits, et sur les règnes de Claude et de Néron, published in 1789. This biographical essay by Diderot appears to have been issued in two forms. It can be found, like mine, as an independent volume dated 1789, and it can also be found with a title page bearing the description ‘Tome septième’ and dated 1779. It seems that the volume was first issued as part of a 1779 edition of Seneca’s works translated into French, but then reissued ten years later with a new title page, possibly simply reusing sheets from the original edition. Diderot’s name does not appear on the title page. The German dealer from whom I bought it evidently did not know who the author was, for if he had, it would have been listed for ten times the price I paid. Latin Stoic authors like Seneca and Persius are for the collector far more dangerous prospects than Epictetus and Marcus. While first printed editions of the Slave and the Emperor came relatively late, in the sixteenth century, the ISTC lists well over a hundred fifteenth century editions of Seneca’s prose works. All of these are well beyond my reach although I do have a small collection of incunabula leaves and among these I have a leaf from an edition of Seneca’s Opera Philosophica, printed in Venice by Bernardinus de Choris, de Cremona on the 31st October 1492.19 The leaf contains text from Seneca’s Epistulae and the recto includes the entire text of the 51st letter, while the verso has all of the 52nd. This leaf came from the good people at Maggs Brothers where I am embarrassed to say it was probably the cheapest thing in the entire shop at the time. Another Stoic18 See J. E. Sandys, A History of Classical Scholarship, 3 vols (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903-8), II: 209. 19 See BMC V 466; Goff S-371; ISTC is00371000. 13 related leaf is the opening page of the life of Marcus Aurelius (attributed to Julius Capitolinus) from an edition of the Scriptores Historiae Augustae published in Venice by Joannes Rubeus Vercellensis on the 15th July 1490.20 Stoic authors are only half the story when it comes to Stoic texts. As I noted at the outset, the works of the earlier Stoics are now lost and scholars rely on quotations and discussions in a range of other ancient authors. That range is huge, as a quick glance at the ‘Index fontium’ in Hans von Arnim’s Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta reveals. A couple stand out. The first is Cicero. A serious collection of editions of Cicero’s Opera Philosophica would be a separate challenge. Good old-fashioned rummaging has thrown up inexpensive copies of the early eighteenth century editions of Cicero’s philosophical works prepared by John Davies,21 on which Dibdin records various opinions.22 Much older, though with less directly on the Stoics, is a compact collection of his rhetorical works printed by Simon Colines in 1545. I also have the very late editio princeps of Cicero’s De Re Publica, famously discovered as a palimpsest by Cardinal Mai and first printed in 1822. After Cicero one of the most important sources for Stoicism is Book 7 of Diogenes Laertius’ Lives of the Philosophers. I was delighted when I managed to acquire a copy of Henri Esteinne’s 1594 edition. I also have a copy of the first translation into English, published in two volumes in 1696 (previously issued in 1688), both bought separately as odd volumes and priced accordingly. This sits neatly along side an early English translation of Plutarch’s Morals, from 1685. In fact I only have one volume from this 20 See BMC V 417; Goff S-342; ISTC is00342000. I also have a leaf containing the opening of this life of Marcus Aurelius from an Aldine octavo edition of lives of Roman Emperors printed in 1519. 21 I have De Divinatione et De Fato (1721), Academica (2nd edn, 1736), De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum (2nd edn, 1741), and De Natura Deorum Libri Tres (4th edn, 1744), all printed in Cambridge. 22 See Dibdin, I: 456-7. 14 multi-volume edition, but the one I happened to stumble across by chance happily contains Plutarch’s major essays on the Stoics. It still astounds me that I was able to buy this seventeenth century book for a tenner, odd volume or not. The Church Fathers also record a variety of important information about Stoic philosophy and I have a variety of nineteenth century editions of works by authors such as Augustine and Clement of Alexandria. Among my collection of incunabula leaves I have a page from an edition of Lactantius printed in Venice by Andreas de Paltasichis and Boninus de Boninis on the 12th March 1479.23 This page contains the opening of Lactantius’ discussion of the difference between Stoic and Aristotelian accounts of the emotions. I had no idea of its contents when I ordered it online, unseen. It is the oldest Stoic-related item I have. A more recent acquisition is slightly different in kind. I mentioned at the outset that the works of the early Stoic authors are all lost, although a few fragments have come to light among the scrolls unearthed at the Villa dei Papiri in Herculaneum.24 The texts recovered from Herculaneum are primarily Epicurean rather than Stoic, with many by the Epicurean philosopher Philodemus of Gadara. I recently acquired an early edition of one of the recovered Philodeman texts containing an important discussion of Stoicism. Published in 1810, Herculanensia, or Archeological and Philological Dissertations Containing A Manuscript Found Among the Ruins of Herculaneum was the work of William Drummond and Robert Walpole. It contains a discussion of a newly deciphered papyrus called here Peri tôn theôn, followed by an edition of the Greek text. The edition was by the Reverend John Hayter (1756-1818) and his edition, along with a Latin translation and a 23 24 See BMC V 251; Goff L-8; ISTC il00008000. For a fascinating, illustrated account of the discovery and deciphering of the Herculaneum scrolls see D. Sider, The Library of the Villa dei Papiri at Herculaneum (Los Angeles: The J. Paul Getty Museum, 2005). 15 commentary, are preserved in manuscript at Oxford.25 Modern editors now think this scroll, PHerc 1428, comes from Philodemus’ De Pietate, and it contains a famous critique of Stoic theology, reporting the views of a number of early Stoics along the way. Drummond notes the parallel between Philodemus’ discussion and parts of Cicero’s De Natura Deorum, a parallel made famous much later by Hermann Diels who printed the two texts in parallel columns in his Doxographi Graeci.26 This edition of 1810 is the editio princeps of this scroll and indeed one of the earliest publications of any of the finds from Herculaneum.27 A contemporary review (by Thomas Young) said that this publication ‘must ever be considered as a memorable event in the history of classical literature’.28 These Stoic and Stoic-related volumes form the core of my collection.29 I won’t begin to mention the dozens of nineteenth and twentieth century editions that sit alongside these earlier volumes. Other ancient philosophers are also represented in early editions, including Plato, Aristotle, Theophrastus, and Lucretius. There are examples of printing by Baskerville, Foulis, Elzevier, Plantin, and Estienne, with leaves by Froben and Aldus Manutius. By far the most significant of these other books – indeed probably the most significant book in the whole collection – is a copy of Henri Estienne’s 1578 edition of Plato in three folio volumes. Given what See D. Obbink’s edition of Philodemus, On Piety: Part 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), p. 26, n. 1. On Hayter’s work see Sider, cited above, pp. 54-5. 25 26 See H. Diels Doxographi Graeci (Berlin: Reimer, 1879), pp. 529-50. 27 Young’s review (see the next note) writes that ‘only one of the eight hundred manuscripts, found almost fifty years ago, at Herculaneum, has hitherto been printed’ (p. 1). See the review, published anonymously, in The Quarterly Review 3 (Feb. 1810), 1-20, at 1. Obbink, cited above, identifies the author as Young. Young’s review includes a translation of the text into English, as well as suggesting numerous emendations. 28 Other pre-1800 editions of Stoic texts not mentioned thus far include Seneca’s Morals by way of Abstract by Sir Roger L’Estrange (9th edn, London, 1705), Epicteti Enchiridion Latinis Versibus Adumbratum by Edward Ivie (Oxford, 1715), Epicteti Enchiridium cum Cebetis Thebani Tabula (Amsterdam, 1750), The Morals of Epictetus, Made English in a Poetical Paraphrase by Ellis Walker (London, 1764), and Le Manuel d’Épictete, et les Commentaires de Simplicius, Traduits en François par M. Dacier (Paris, 1776). 29 16 I have already said it should be clear that such a book ought to be way beyond my reach. I have seen copies advertised for five-figure sums. I managed to acquire my copy thanks to two reasons: the first is that two of the three volumes are quite badly water damaged; the second is that the dealer from whom I acquired it at a book fair had absolutely no idea what it was, and could only see the damage. He priced it as simply an old damaged book, unaware of its significance even in its imperfect state, and by the end of the last day of the fair was happy to let it go for almost half his marked price just to save carrying such a bulky item home to the other end of the country. It was still a lot of money for me at the time but this was clearly a once in a lifetime opportunity to buy what is one of the most significant ancient philosophy books ever to be printed. Now all I need is an Aldine Aristotle, dumped in a provincial bookshop on a shelf marked ‘Miscellaneous Foreign Language, Oversize’. LATEST ADDITION: Casp. Scioppii Elementa Philosophiae Stoiciae Moralis (Mainz, 1606).