The two novelties to be discussed in this article are the Euripidean association of ἄτη and μοĩϱα at Medea 976–988 and at Electra 1301–1307. Briefly stated, these two novelties, or new concepts, are as follows: first, in Medea 976–988, for the first time in extant Greek literature, μοĩϱα is associated with ἄτη not in the latter's subjective meaning of ‘blindness,’ ‘infatuation,’ or ‘folly,’ but rather in its objective meaning of ‘ruin,’ ‘calamity,’ or ‘disaster’; secondly, an entirely new meaning for ἄτη is introduced at Electra 1301–1307, inasmuch as in this passage ἄτη means μοĩϱα, ‘fate’ or ‘destiny,’ again for the first time in extant Greek literature.

The reform of rhetoric is an integral part of the great program of moral reform undertaken by Plato, and the intensity with which he pursues the subject is a measure of the importance it assumed in his thought. This importance is only partly a result of the enormous and perverse influence wielded by rhetoric on politics and the ethics of the individual. The basic reason for Plato's hostility to sophistic rhetoric was that it took the side of appearance in the conflict between appearance and reality which lay behind much of the Socratic–Platonic philosophy. Rhetoric as it was developed by the great teachers of the late fifth century and exercised in the early fourth was concerned, not with knowledge, but with the appearance of knowledge. It did not care for truth, only for what was probable (εἰϰός) or persuasive (πιθανόν). ‘To seem’ (δοϰεĩν, ϕαíνεσθαı) rather than ‘to be’ (εἷναı) was its goal.

Der von K. G. Goetz unternommene Nachweis, dass der von Hartel in seiner Ausgabe der Werke Cyprians unter die Spuria aufgenommene kleine Brief ‘Credo te retinere …’ der ursprüngliche Anfang des cyprianischen Traktates Ad Donatum sei, fand seiner Zeit die Billigung H. von Sodens und A. Harnacks. C. Weyman dagegen hat den Versuch als völlig verfehlt bezeichnet, O. Bardenhewer spricht von einem Monolog, und G. Krüger vermisst im Verlaufe des Monologs jede Andeutung dafür, dass es sich um einen Dialog handelt, während er später den Traktat als einen Dialog erklärt, ‘wie sich aus dem Anfang und dem Ende der Schrift deutlich ergibt,’ um allerdings gleich darauf wieder festzustellen, dass jede Andeutung dafür fehle, dass es sich um einen Dialog oder Scheindialog handle.

Paulinus of Nola (ca. 355–431)—the wealthy aristocrat from Aquitaine and once governor of Campania who converted to asceticism, sold his and his wife's property, went to Nola to live as a monk at St. Felix's shrine, and was eventually elected bishop of Nola—is remembered not so much for any single great achievement as for a number of smaller ones. His contemporaries admired his asceticism, and he is counted among the earliest Christian Latin poets. His descriptions of the buildings at Nola are important to Christian archaeology, and he was known to many Latin fathers, including Ambrose, Augustine, and Jerome. Of his works, about fifty letters and thirty poems are extant. Paulinus is also known through other writers, both contemporary and later; and what follows is an attempt to trace him in the literary tradition from his own day through to the Carolingian age.

In the Exeter Book, the poem now known as The Descent into Hell begins with an account of the women finding the empty sepulcher on Easter morning (1–16); describes Christ's resurrection and descent into hell (17–55), including a brief anticipatory speech by John the Baptist (26–32); and then reports a longer speech by John the Baptist (56ff.), apparently extending without interruption through the final lines of the poem:

Swylee ie pe halsige, hælend user,
fore [.]inum cildhade, cyninga selast,
120 ond fore ϸære wunde, weoruda dry[….
…….] ϸinum æriste, æϸelinga wyn,
ond fore ϸinre me[… ……….]ian nama,
ϸa ealle hellwara hergað ond lof[….
………….]lum ϸe ϸe ymb stondað,
125 ϸa ϸu ϸe lete sittan [……………] hond,
ϸa ϸu us on ϸisne wræcsið, weoroda dryhten,
ϸurh ϸines sylfes geweald secan woldest,
ond fore Hierusalem in Iudeum,
(sceal seo burg nu ϸa bidan efne swa ϸeah,
130 ϸeoden Ieofa, ϸines eftcymes),
ond for Iordane in Iudeum,
(wit unc in ϸære burnan baϸodan ætgædre),
oferwurpe ϸu mid ϸy wætre, weoruda dryhten,
bliϸe mode ealle burgwaran,
135 swylce git Iohannis in Iordane
mid ϸy fullwihte fægre onbryrdon
ealne ϸisne middangeard. Sie ϸæs symle meotude ϸone!
(118–37)

Of the five surviving fragments of the Exultet roll Barb. lat. 592 in the Vatican Library, one — 592 (5) — shows two striking commemoration pictures: of the pope on his throne, with a bishop or archbishop standing to his left and a deacon to his right (Plate 1), and of the emperor, likewise enthroned, on whose left sits a count on a faldistorium, holding a falcon in his right hand (Plate 2); these main figures are accompanied by other representatives of the clergy and laity. None of the figures is identified by name.

Two anonymous French canonists shortly before or around 1170, the author of the Parisian Summa Magister Gratianus in hoc opere and, in his footsteps, the author of the fragmentary Summa Antiquitate et tempore, cited a book they called ‘Candela Gerlandi’ (or ‘Gelandi’). Neither Schulte nor the writer of these pages, in his Repertorium (1937), was able to make much of the citation, save for connecting it with one ‘Jarlandus Chrysopolitanus’ whose name appears in some bibliographies of the seventeenth and the eighteenth century, and with a few manuscript references. To the codex Victorinus (now Paris, B. N. lat. 14618), first mentioned in 1666 by Erich Mauritius, professor at the then recently opened University of Kiel, in his dissertation De libris iuris communis, Schulte added two more manuscripts of the Candela he had noted at random in the catalogues of Troyes and Montpellier.

‘To judge by the profusion of scholarly works that have appeared in the last two or three decades, Wolfram's Parzival has enjoyed an extraordinary popularity,’ says Henry Kratz in his recent book, which he calls ‘An attempt at a total evaluation.’ Wolfram's romance remains the center of interest, but any ‘total evaluation’ runs the risk that it will be considered only on certain levels of interpretation, in spite of the fact that literary works, especially those of the Middle Ages, often display a combination of interpretative levels which, though seemingly contradictory, still do not necessarily exclude one another.

Im ersten Kapitel seiner Schrift über die Trinität führt Boethius die Arianische Irrlehre, der zufolge die drei göttlichen Personen nicht ein einziger Gott, sondern drei verschiedene Götter sind, darauf zurück, dass es nach der Meinung der Arianeι sowohl dem Sohn als auch dem Heiligen Geist in einer anderen Weise zukommt, Gott zu sein, als dem Vater. Daraus, dass jede der drei göttlichen Personen in einer anderen Weise Gott ist als die andere, folgt nämlich, dass diese drei Personen viele Götter sind; denn die Vielheit gründet, wie Boethius zu zeigen versucht, in der ‘Andersheit’: ‘Principium enim plura-litatis alteritas est.’

Any attempt to determine when Engelbert wrote the numerous works attributed to him necessarily depends heavily on earlier studies and extensively on guesswork. Very seldom does our author mention earlier works or give any indication of the date of his writing. He did not know how to bring his writings to the favorable notice of persons in power. He did not keep track of exact titles of his works, nor did he make any effort to ensure that the abbey of Admont had a copy. His recollection of titles and incipits of his works is often faulty. The following list is somewhat better than earlier efforts because certain preliminary studies and editions have been made; but more than sixteen of Engelbert's writings have yet to be printed!

Philip V's negotiations with his subjects to secure subsidies and support in 1318 and 1319 significantly affected the evolution of royal policies and general attitudes toward taxation and consultation in fourteenth-century France. Though many aspects of these governmental activities have been studied, the precise nature of the monarchy's aims and plans, and the complex interrelationship of the reactions of different groups and different regions are still not fully understood. The work which has been done has concentrated on analysis as a prelude to synthesis: the various stands taken by townspeople, by nobles, and by ecclesiastics have been treated, and the responses of various areas have been considered. Much of the material necessary for a comprehensive assessment has been examined and ordered, yet there remain problems, relatively restricted in nature and scope, which demand consideration before the meaning and implications of the events of 1318 and 1319 can be adequately comprehended.

The Augustinian friar Bartholomew of Urbino, as he is usually called after the town of his birth where he served as bishop during the last three years of his life (1347–1350), is best known for his still valuable Milleloquium veritatis S. Augustini. This monumental concordance contains some fifteen thousand excerpts from the writings of St. Augustine, grouped under about one thousand alphabetically arranged key words (for instance, abstinentia, ecclesia, fides, haeresis, iustitia, lex, praedestinatio, etc.) illustrating Augustine's doctrines on these topics. The work, for which Bartholomew's friend Petrarch furnished two poetical embellishments in the form of as many alternate sets of verses, was a success. Bearing witness to its wide diffusion and appreciation are over thirty MSS still extant in northern and central Europe (Austria, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, Germany, The Netherlands, and Poland), and about the same number in French, English, Italian, and Spanish libraries. It also went through five printings: Lyons 1555; Paris 1645, 1649, and 1672; Brescia 1734.

The lives of the saints and other sacred narratives contained in the Legenda aurea of Jacobus de Voragine are often seen as sources of late-medieval works of art and literature. Little of such importance, however, has been ascribed to a non-narrative element which appears at the head of many of the chapters — an ‘etymology’ of a saint's name set out to show that one can find in that single word, if its elements are duly discerned and interpreted, an indication of some of the virtues which were especially characteristic of the saint. Jacobus' handling of the name of St. Hilary of Poitiers is typical:

The outstanding sixteenth-century Scripture scholar Juan Maldonado, in an instruction for members of the Society of Jesus on the manner of teaching theology, thus describes the ideal professor: