G.M. Paul: The Presentation of Titus in the Jewish War of Josephus (1993)
Josephus’ claim that the springs miraculously flowed more freely at Titus’ parousia would be to suggest that Titus was at least accompanied by divine favour, and this effect is made explicit by the statement that “the Deity has fled from the holy places and taken His stand on the side of those with whom you are now at war”
The Presentation of Titus in the Jewish War of Josephus: Two Aspects
By G. M. Paul
1993
The Wars of the Jews by Flavius Josephus
Administrative | Factional | Military | Theological | Topographical
WHEN TITUS RETURNED TO ROME about May-June of A.D. 71, after the capture and destruction of Jerusalem in the previous year, he was accompanied by Josephus who, after the capture of Jotapata (July 67), had spent the rest of the war first as Roman prisoner then as collaborator. On his arrival in Rome Josephus was lodged by the emperor Vespasian in the house which Vespasian had occupied before his elevation as emperor, he had the Roman citizenship conferred on him, and he was granted a pension by the emperor (Vita 423). We do not know when Josephus began to write the Greek version of the Jewish War, but it was preceded by a version in Josephus’ “ancestral tongue,” probably Aramaic (BJ 1.3). The Greek version, which is all we now possess, was completed sometime between A.D. 75 and Vespasian’s death in June 79.[1] The completed work had been presented to Vespasian and Titus (Vita 361; Ap. 1.50-51) and Titus ordered its publication, having inscribed it with his own hand (Vita 363). In the light of these circumstances and of what we know or can surmise about ancient literary patronage, it will hardly be thought surprising that Josephus’ narrative is biased in favour of Vespasian and Titus, and this view has become a commonplace of Josephan scholarship. In a recent article, for example, B. W. Jones has argued that Josephus has exaggerated Titus’ military capacities, especially in A.D. 67.[2] It is important to note, however, that the present article does not claim that it was the sole or even primary purpose of the Jewish War to show favour to Titus and Vespasian, but many techniques are employed by Josephus to present Titus in particular in a dramatic way. These techniques repay scrutiny for what they reveal about Josephus’ methods of writing. In what follows attention will be directed particularly at two examples of the ways in which Josephus’ manner of writing operates in favour of Titus.
The history written by the ancients, like modern journalism, characteristically focuses accounts of complex events on the doings and sayings of individuals. One area in which this is especially true is the area of warfare and of descriptions of battles, a tradition going back to the Iliad; it will be sufficient to refer to the aristeiai of such heroes as Diomedes and Agamemnon.[3] A ruler or general naturally attracts a writer’s attention in such accounts, so one finds a later rhetorician offering instruction on how the emperor’s prominence in battle is to be commemorated.[4] Josephus, who adheres fully to this tradition, accords a most favourable and often dramatic prominence to Titus especially in his narrative of the fighting around Jerusalem leading to the capture and destruction of the city.[5] This is achieved in a variety of ways: e.g., by frequent mention of Titus’ presence, by alluding to the concern of Titus’ friends and officers for his safety, by recounting Titus’ views and thoughts about the progress of the fighting and so on. This context provides a setting for the first of our two aspects of Josephus’ manner of writing, namely his use of a particular syntactical device, the past unreal conditional sentence of the form, “A would have happened, had not B intervened,” i.e., an affirmative apodosis followed by a negative protasis; B is often a quite unexpected event which by its intervention brings about a dramatic reversal in the situation.
In Book 5 of the Jewish War, Josephus uses this syntactical device four times to record a sudden intervention in the fighting by Titus which dramatically reverses the course of events, three times by direct action of Titus, once as a follow-up by Titus to a successful intervention by the picked troops from Alexandria.[6] For example, BJ 5.81: “Indeed, in all probability, the entire legion would then have been in jeopardy, had not Titus, learning of their position, instantly come to their aid …. ” There are 24 other examples of this syntactical device in the Jewish War, 14 of them at least recording a similar dramatic reversal in the course of events.[7] The construction lends itself not only to the highlighting of individual achievement in battle but in general to the kind of sudden change of fortune in the narrated events which is sometimes called a peripeteia.[8] An imminent, undesirable event is thwarted by a sudden, often unexpected intervention. As a recent writer puts it, referring to a similar stylistic device in Livy, “this technique is quite cinematographic in its effect.”[9] As we shall see, other Greek and Roman writers as well as Livy had employed this stylistic device before Josephus and it seems likely that he had learned to use it, directly or indirectly, by imitation or as the result of instruction, from some previous writer. When he wrote the Jewish War, as is well known, he had employed some assistants for the sake of the Greek (Ap. 1.50), and it has sometimes been assumed that these assistants had a large share in the composition of the work. But Josephus had already composed a version of the history, probably in Aramaic (BJ 1.3), of which the Greek version was a translation or a rewriting (of unknown extent), and he consistently uses the first person singular when referring to the writing of the work, so that it seems not unreasonable to think that the assistants were employed simply to ensure the correctness of Josephus’ Greek.[10] (Even after the writing of the Jewish Antiquities, completed in A.D. 93/94 [AJ 20.267] and study of Greek literature, Josephus felt that his inherited linguistic usage, *pa/trios sunh/qeia*, prevented him from attaining accuracy in the pronunciation of Greek [AJ 20.263]). In that case, the use of past unreal conditions in the way described was probably not imported into the text by his assistants but rather was a device of which Josephus himself had come to recognize the value.
The ancient writer who most freely employs the past unreal conditional sentence in the way described, however, is Livy, who uses it so freely that the device might be described as a tic of Livian style.[11] Livy’s usage has been noted and discussed by E. Burck and by P. G. Walsh,[12] both of whom emphasize its value for the technique of peripeteia. The study of the usage by Latin writers, especially the historians, has been further investigated by Jean-Pierre Chausserie-Laprée in the section of his book on narrative expression devoted to what he calls the ni-de rupture.[13] He finds that Sallust is the first Roman historian to employ the past unreal condition in this way (Iug. 53.7; 59.3); there are two examples in Cornelius Nepos, 93 in Livy, 6 in Quintus Curtius, and 41 in Tacitus.[14] Yet it is on the whole unlikely that Josephus modelled himself on Livy or any other Latin writer. He does cite Livy once as an authority but in a context which suggests he knew him only through Strabo or Nicolaus of Damascus (AJ 14.68). He quotes Asinius Pollio from Strabo (AJ 14.138). The parallels Thackeray finds between Josephus and Latin authors are quite doubtful and even he ascribes them to an assistant rather than to Josephus himself.[15] As for the hypomnemata of Vespasian and Titus to which Josephus refers (Vita 342; 358; Ap. 1.56), it is at least possible that they were written in Greek, a language in which both Vespasian and Titus were fluent.[16] It is, of course, possible that Josephus had learned some Latin on his first visit to Rome ca A.D. 64-66 (Vita 13-16) or after his capture at Jotapata (BJ 3.392-408) and later removal to Rome in A.D. 71 (Vita 422-423), but there is no solid basis for believing that at the date of the composition of the Jewish War he had the kind of familiarity with Latin literature that would have encouraged him to imitate a syntactical device employed by a Roman historian.[17] It is more reasonable to think of Josephus finding a model in a Greek writer.
There seems to be no general treatment of the particular use in Greek literature of the past unreal condition to express a dramatic reversal of the kind already described. But we can perhaps begin by examining what is left of the Histories of Nicolaus of Damascus, a work which Josephus is generally believed to have used as a source (though he does not mention it as such) at least for Herod’s reign, and probably for the history of the Hasmonaeans, in BJ 1.[18] In the surviving fragments there are three examples of a past unreal condition, of which one (F 68.14) is not particularly dramatic in tone, another (F 4, p. 334, lines 3-4) requires emendation of the text, but the third (F 13.21-23) expresses a dramatic reversal of the kind examined above: “[Herakles] all but killed Megara as she clung to the child, had not Iphikles come suddenly and rescued her as well.” None of the three fragments cited, however, comes from the books that covered the period of the Hasmonaeans and the reign of Herod.
It is only too likely that when composing the Jewish War and searching for material on the relevant period, Josephus did not read through the entire work of Nicolaus, a universal history in 144 books, but confined his attention to the relevant books of its final section (perhaps a third of the entire work). The relative frequency of the device in Book 1 of the Jewish War (above, note 7) might suggest a debt to Nicolaus, but clearly this cannot be proved on the basis of the surviving fragments and it seems necessary to look elsewhere for possible influences on Josephus.[19]
Josephus does not mention any other extant work as a source for the Jewish War, in contrast to his practice in the Antiquities, and it is only in the latter work that he mentions his study of Greek literature (AJ 20.263). Nonetheless the possibility cannot be ruled out that he had done some reading in Greek literature, especially historical literature, by the time he was writing the Jewish War. It is therefore worth surveying, however briefly, some works which he may possibly have used for evidence of the syntactical device in question here. Among earlier writers whom Josephus may — but need not — have read, Herodotus shows no example of the particular use of the past unreal conditional at issue here. Thucydides, who does use it, shows no real example of dramatic reversal; 5.73.1 contains what is probably the closest instance: “In the army [the Athenians] would have suffered most heavily, had they not had their cavalry with them to help them.” Chausserie-Laprée cites one example, Hell. 5.3.41, from Xenophon[20] and there may be others; but Xenophon is not named either in the Jewish War, as noted above, or in any of the other works either and there is no indication that Josephus had ever read him.[21] Nor does Josephus in the Jewish War show any evidence that he had read any of the Greek historians writing between Xenophon and Polybius. Even in the Jewish Antiquities Josephus’ references to such writers (whose works survive only in fragments) often suggest that he knew them only at second-hand. This is true of Ephorus, for example (mentioned AJ 1.108; Ap. 1.16, 67). But in any case, for what it is worth, a search of the fragments ascribed to Ephorus by Jacoby[22] has failed to turn up any example of the construction in question. Theopompus, on the other hand, who is nowhere referred to by Josephus, shows in the surviving fragments one instance of a past unreal condition of the type discussed here. It is impossible to say how characteristic of Theopompus its use may have been, though both ancient and modern critics have commented on the rhetorical character of Theopompus’ style.[23] At AJ 12.135-136, however, Josephus actually quotes from Polybius (cf. 12.358-359; Ap. 2.84, where Josephus probably cites Polybius from an intermediary, Nicolaus of Damascus or Strabo). This does not necessarily mean that Josephus had read Polybius by the time he was writing the Greek version of the Jewish War but it is a possibility. Again, however, though Polybius several times uses a past unreal condition of the form under discussion, none of the instances describes a dramatic reversal, particularly not a reversal in a battle due to a sudden intervention.[24] To complete this brief and partial survey of Josephus’ predecessors and possible models among the Greek historians we should consider the case of Dionysius of Halicarnassus who has sometimes been considered a model for Josephus at least in the Jewish Antiquities,[25] though Josephus, it should be remembered, nowhere refers to him. In the Roman Antiquities of Dionysius of Halicarnassus there are two past unreal conditional sentences of the form under discussion (6.31.1; 11.30.1), but neither of them describes a sudden reversal in a battle as a result of an unexpected intervention. It seems unlikely, therefore, that Dionysius was Josephus’ model for this syntactical device. Further, Jonas Palm in his thorough study of the language and style of Diodorus Siculus makes no reference to such a use of the past unreal conditional sentence by that author.[26]
The conclusion to be derived from the foregoing discussion is that there is no strong candidate among these historians for Josephus’ model in the use of the construction under discussion. But the construction is employed frequently by Homer[27] with the same effect as that later achieved by Josephus in his references to Titus. B. Fenik describes the poet’s procedure as follows: “For example, if the poet wishes to push a situation to the extreme, and yet avoid the inevitable (sic) consequences, he always does it as follows: `Then Aeneas would have been killed, but …. ‘ What saves the situation is always sudden help from the outside.”[28] Is it likely that Josephus has been influenced by Homer? As Thackeray points out, there are several references in the Contra Apionem to questions of Homeric scholarship.[29] Also at AJ 19.92, Josephus quotes from the Iliad (14.90-91, omitting *tou^ton*, though the quotation is likely to have been taken over from Josephus’ source at that point. Reminiscences of Homeric vocabulary and phraseology are claimed for the Jewish War by both Thackeray and E. Stein.[30] Such claims often ignore the extent to which Homeric turns had entered the common language and neglect other writers who share the same or similar expressions. Nonetheless, even if it would be hazardous to claim that Josephus when writing the Jewish War had read extensively in Homer, we must note the place occupied by Homer in Greek education from the school of the grammatikos to the rhetorical school.[31]
When Josephus came later to describe his education in Vita 7-12, he said nothing about how he came to learn Greek. He does mention his study of Greek literature (AJ 20.263) but goes on to say, “our people do not favour those persons who have mastered the speech of many nations or who adorn their style with smoothness of diction.” This attitude would be sufficient to account for the suppression of any reference to a formal education in Greek on Josephus’ part, though the very undertaking of the Jewish War may be thought to point to a more than casual acquisition of the Greek language.[32] Josephus may even have had an education in rhetoric: in his account in the Autobiography there is a gap in his life-story between the ages of 18 and 26 (Vita 12-13) and at the latter age he represents himself as going on an embassy to Rome to seek the release of certain imprisoned priests. This duty would normally presuppose the possession of some rhetorical skill, as maintained again recently by Martin Hengel.[33] The scepticism of Schwartz on this score seems excessive.[34] Even if Josephus did not plead before the Emperor, he claims to have interceded with Poppaea for the release of the priests and his Greek must have been equal to the task. The rhetorical colour of BJ was recognized in Antiquity, if we accept Josephus’ statement (Ap. 1.53) that his history was maligned by “despicable persons” as “a prize composition such as is set to boys at school.”[35] Ekphraseis (descriptions), one of the preliminary exercises in the rhetorical schools, included descriptions of battles; the later rhetoricians illustrate how Homer might be cited as a model for such exercises.[36] If Josephus did not base his particular use of the past unreal condition on the practice of some previous historical writer, another possibility may be that he derives his use from school instruction in Homer.
The case of Livy who, as already noted, is the writer who is most free in the use of the type of past unreal conditional sentence under discussion provides an analogy. The only time in the surviving books when he mentions Homer is at 37.19.7, where he refers to Thebes campum, carmine Homeri nobilitatum. Since Homer refers only to Thebe, not to the plain, critics have concluded that Livy has taken over the phrase from Polybius (possibly misinterpreting or embellishing him) on whose account Livy’s narrative is dependent at this point.[37] Whereas Polybius knows Homer at first hand, Livy, it is assumed, does not. Yet in describing three major battles in Books 2 and 4 Livy models his accounts directly on Homer, as demonstrated by R. M. Ogilvie.[38] The most likely place for Livy to have studied these Homeric battle-scenes is as set-pieces in the schoolroom. P. G. Walsh assumes that Livy had had a thorough rhetorical education.[39] The role of Homer in Graeco-Roman education has already been noted, as well his use as a model in writing exercises or ekphraseis, including battle-scenes.[40] Homer was an exalted model, and in following him in the particular use of the past unreal conditional sentence, Livy and Josephus as well were no doubt seeking not only to dramatize their accounts but also to lend to them something of epic grandeur.[41]
The second aspect of Josephus’ presentation of Titus to be considered here is contained in a single passage from the speech which Josephus is said to have made at Titus’ request to the besieged at Jerusalem, originally in their “native tongue” (5.361), presumably Aramaic. The written account concludes with reminiscences of the history of the Jews, culminating in the approach of Titus to the city of Jerusalem. Then follows the passage in question (5.409-411):
… while as for Titus, the very springs flow more copiously for him which had erstwhile dried up for you. For before his coming (parousia), as you know, Siloam and all the springs outside the town were failing, insomuch that water was sold by the amphora; whereas now they flow so freely for your enemies as to suffice not only for themselves and their beasts but even for gardens. This miracle (teras), moreover, has been experienced ere now on the fall of the city when the Babylonian whom I mentioned (5.391) marched against it …. My belief, therefore, is that the Deity has fled from the holy places and taken His stand on the side of those with whom you are now at war.
Several points in this passage are worthy of note: first, the biblical account of Nebuchadnezzar’s (i.e., “the Babylonian”) attack on Jerusalem (2 Kings 25.1-10) contains no reference to a miracle such as Josephus mentions. Secondly, the occurrence of the miracle is taken as a sign that God has quitted the Temple, as, according to Ezekiel 11.23, He did in the time of Nebuchadnezzar. Of more importance here, however, is a third point, that Titus’ arrival is described by the wordparousia, a word which generally means “presence,” “arrival,” but which as a technical term is specifically used to apply to the arrival of a king or official or to the epiphany of a god, categories which may overlap.[42] Lastly, provision of water in the form of springs, rivers, and rain, etc., is regularly regarded by biblical writers as a divine gift, both in its actual form and as a symbol.[43] In Josephus, at AJ 3.203, God’s parousia in the tabernacle is accompanied by a distillation of “delicious dew,” a detail absent from the corresponding biblical account. So the effect of Josephus’ claim that the springs miraculously flowed more freely at Titus’ parousia would be to suggest that Titus was at least accompanied by divine favour, and this effect is made explicit by the statement that “the Deity has fled from the holy places and taken His stand on the side of those with whom you are now at war” (a leitmotiv of Josephus’ narrative). AJ 18.284-288 provides a partial parallel: when Petronius, the governor of Syria, undertook to intercede with the emperor Gaius on behalf of the Jews, God showed his parousia:[44]
For as soon as Petronius had finished delivering this speech before the Jews, God straightway sent a heavy shower that was contrary to general anticipation, for that day, from morning on, had been clear and the sky had given no indication of rain. Indeed, that entire year had been beset by so great a drought that it caused the people to despair of rainfall even if at any time they saw the sky overcast …. Petronius, on his part, was struck with great amazement when he saw unmistakable evidence that God’s providence was over the Jews ….
Among the Greeks and Romans rainfall, especially unexpected, providential rainfall, was seen as an index of divine blessing. Zeus and Jupiter are the bringers of rain (M. Aurelius Ant. Ad se ipsum 5.7). In addition, the appearance of springs was regarded as a manifestation of divine favour and hence they form the focus of the cult of the Nymphs.[45] In later panegyric, provision of water may be one aspect of the kindly response of nature to the emperor; Menander Rhetor (377.21-24 [Russell-Wilson]), giving instructions for the composition of imperial encomium, suggests the following phrasing for the epilogue: “What greater blessings must one ask from the gods than the emperor’s safety? Rains in season, abundance from the sea, unstinting harvests come happily to us because of the emperor’s justice.”[46] Titus’ parousia in Josephus’ account may thus blend Jewish and Greco-Roman motifs the effect of which is to proclaim that Titus is under divine favour.
In each of these two ways, then, Josephus seeks to enhance Titus’ reputation: his prowess in battle is commemorated by use of a syntactical device drawn perhaps from dramatic historiography but ultimately from the practice of epic as handed down, it is proposed, in the schoolroom; and his receipt of divine favour is suggested by language with cultic and encomiastic associations. Josephus’ method of proceeding is thoroughly sophisticated. If it cannot be said to prove that Josephus had had a rhetorical training, at least the techniques he employs can fairly be labelled “rhetorical.” The evidence does not permit a clear determination about the sources of this rhetorical colouring; imitation of predecessors remains a possibility, but formal instruction in rhetoric is at least as likely.
DEPARTMENT OF CLASSICS
MCMASTER UNIVERSITY
HAMILTON, ONTARIO L8S 4M2
FOOTNOTES:
- Introductory Note
- The following works will be cited by author’s name alone or with abbreviated title: Jean-Pierre Chausserie-Laprée, L’Expression narrative chez les historiens latins (Paris 1969); Louis H. Feldman, Josephus and Modern Scholarship (1937-1980) (Berlin and New York 1984) = Scholarship; T. Rajak, Josephus: The Historian and His Society (London 1983); S. Schwartz, Josephus and Judaean Politics (Leiden 1990); H. St. J. Thackeray, Josephus, The Man and the Historian (New York 1929) = Josephus; P. G. Walsh, Livy: His Historical Aims and Methods (Cambridge 1961). All quotations from Josephus are from the Loeb edition, Josephus, tr. H. St. J. Thackeray, 9 vols. (London and New York 1926, Loeb Classical Library).
An early version of this paper was presented to the Faculty-Graduate Symposium of the Department of Classics, McMaster University. Thanks are due to those present on that occasion for their corrections and comments, as well as subsequently to the referees for Phoenix.
[1] Rajak (195) says it is “certainly a Vespasianic work”; n. 23 argues for a date close to the end of the reign and rejects the arguments of S. J. D. Cohen, Josephus in Galilee and Rome (Leiden 1979) 87-89, for a Domitianic date for Book 7.
[2] B. W. Jones, “Titus in Judaea, A.D. 67,” Latomus 48 (1989) 127-134. See also Z. Yavetz, “Reflections on Titus and Josephus,” GRBS 16 (1975) 411-432; Rajak 203-207.
[3] Cf. also Franz Erbig, Topoi in den Schlachtberichten römischer Dichter (Diss., Würzburg; Danzig 1931) 18; 26, for concentration on individuals in Roman poetic accounts of battles.
[4] Menander Rhetor 373.23-374.25 (Russell-Wilson), especially 374.3-6.
[6] BJ 5.81-82; 339 (gen. absol. as protasis); 541; 287.
[7] BJ 1.88, 127, 146, 214, 287, 339; 2.58, 213, 312, 492, 550; 4.640; 5.488-489; 7.249-250. The other examples are not particularly dramatic: namely 1.160, 258, 388; 2.497; 3.333; 5.26, 154, 354; 6.200, 297.
[8] E.g., Polyb. 15.36; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 3.18.1, 22.10; cf. Cic. Fam. 5.12.4, fortunaeque vicissitudines; Tac. Ann. 4.33, varietates proeliorum.
[9] Walsh 202.
[10] The notion that the Greek version involved an extensive rewriting of the earlier (Aramaic) version has been revived by G. Hata, “Is the Greek Version of Josephus’ Jewish War a Translation or a Rewriting of the First Version?,” Jewish Quarterly Review 66 (1975-76) 89-108. He argues that *metaba/llein* (as used at BJ 1.3) indicates a radical change, hence means “rewrite” (a possible but not a necessary meaning), and that the Greek version of the War employs standard elements of a Greek historical work (speeches, digressions, preface) which would not have been employed in the hastily written first version. This latter argument, unprovable in any case, takes no account of the extent to which Hellenistic literature had begun to influence Jewish writing from the third century B.C. at least. See also Rajak 176-177. It is commonly assumed that the comparative absence of semitisms in the War (cf. e.g., Thackeray, Loeb edition vol. 2, pp. ix-x) points to the work of the assistants, but see also below, n. 32. It is not possible here to consider at length the question of the uses or possible uses of assistants by Josephus, but see Rajak 233-236; P. Bilde, Flavius Josephus between Jerusalem and Rome (Sheffield 1988, Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Supp. 2) 132-134.
[11] Cf. e.g., Livy 2.10.2, 14-15 (twice); 3.5.8; 4.38.2; 5.26.10; 30.18.6, 9, 15 (three times in one chapter); according to Chausserie-Laprée, 93 examples in total.
[12] E. Burck, Die Erzählungskunst des T. Livius{2} (Berlin and Zurich 1964) 215-216; Walsh 201-202.
[13] Chausserie-Laprée 598-617; relevés, 636-637.
[14] Chausserie-Laprée 636-637.
[15] Thackeray, Josephus 118-120. Against Josephus’ extensive knowledge see now Schwartz 37, n. 48.
[16] Tac. Hist. 2.80; Suet. Vesp. 23.1; Titus 3.2.
[17] It has been claimed that Josephus’ account of the assassination of Gaius and accession of Claudius (AJ 19.1-273) derives from a Latin historian, Cluvius Rufus, but there are many uncertainties in this view; for discussion see Feldman’s note in the Loeb Josephus, vol. 9, pp. 212-213, note a; for a history of the controversy, Feldman 326-327. Schwartz (231-232) thinks it possible that a Latin source lies behind the account. Recently, T. P. Wiseman has argued for two Latin sources, one of them being Cluvius (Flavius Josephus, Death of an Emperor. Translated with an introduction and commentary [Exeter 1991, Exeter Studies in History 30] xii, xiii, xiv, 59, 111-117).
[18] FGrHist 90; the work comprised 144 books (T 11); books 123-124 referred to events of 14 B.C. (F 81). For the end-date of the work see F. Jacoby, FGrHist 2C.232-233
[19] It may be worth pointing out that a search of the Septuagint, translated from an extensive body of Hebrew and Aramaic, and at least in its historical parts roughly comparable to Josephus’ work, has failed to turn up any example of a past unreal condition corresponding to those discussed in this paper.
[20] Chausserie-Laprée 600, n. 3.
[21] Schwartz (38 and n. 51) thinks knowledge of Xenophon possible on grounds of general acquaintance with that writer.
[23] FGrHist 115 F 248. On the limitations of the surviving fragments as evidence for Theopompus’ style, see G. S. Shrimpton, Theopompus the Historian (Montreal and Kingston 1991) 27-28.
[24] Polyb. 1.18.11 contains probably the most dramatic instance; for other examples see 1.28.11; 2.45.5; 3.53.1; 4.87.10; 9.35.4; 18.35.6; 31.22.4.
[25] See most recently H. W. Attridge, The Interpretation of Biblical History in the Antiquitates Judaicae of Flavius Josephus (Missoula, Montana 1976, Harvard Dissertations in Religion 7) 43-57; for a history of discussion, Feldman, Scholarship 407-408, 935-936; criticism of the idea, D. J. Ladouceur, “The Language of Josephus,” JSJ 14 (1983) 18-38.
[26] J. Palm, Über Sprache und Stil des Diodoros von Sizilien (Lund 1955). K. Sacks, Diodorus Siculus and the First Century (Princeton, N.J. 1990) does not deal extensively with matters of style.
[27] Cf. Il. 2.155; 3.373; 5.311, 388, 679; 6.73; 7.104, 273; 8.90, 130, 217; 11.310, 750; 13.723; 15.121; 16.698; 17.70; 18.165; 20.288; 21.211, 544; 22.202; 23.490 (23 examples; the count is not necessarily complete). See also Od. 4.363; 13.383; 24.41, 50. The usage is also employed by Apollonius Rhodius 4.20, 1651; cf. 338, 639, 1305; G. O. Hutchinson, Hellenistic Poetry (Oxford 1988) 126 and n. 67. (I owe this reference to the kindness of Dr Paul Murgatroyd.)
[28] B. Fenik, Typical Battle Scenes in the Iliad: Studies in the Narrative Technique of Homeric Battle Description (Wiesbaden 1968, Hermes Einzelschriften Heft 21) 81; see also 153-154; 221-222.
[29] Thackeray, Josephus 122-123.
[30] Loeb edition 3, p. 401, note a, ad BJ 6.85, the phrase *peparme/na … h`/lois*; E. Stein, De Woordenkeuze in het Bellum Judaicum van Flavius Josephus (Diss., Leiden; Amsterdam 1937) especially 38-45.
[31] See, e.g., H. I. Marrou, A History of Education in Antiquity{3}, tr. G. Lamb (London and New York 1956) 162-163; Quintilian 1.8.5, 10.1.46-51; S. F. Bonner, Education in Ancient Rome (London 1977) 270, for use of Homer as a model in descriptions.
[32] A case for Josephus’ education in Greek has recently been made by J. Bernardi, “De quelques sémitismes de Flavius Josèphe,” REG 100 (1987) 18-29; he contrasts the comparative infrequency of semitisms in the Jewish War with the practice of the NT writers.
[33] Martin Hengel, The “Hellenization” of Judaea in the First Century after Christ, tr. John Bowden (London and Philadelphia 1989) 23.
[35] The case for rhetorical influence on Josephus’ writings was made long ago in two German dissertations, A. Wolff, De Flavii Iosephi Belli iudaici scriptoris studiis rhetoricis (Halle 1908), and W. Hornbostel, De Flavii Josephi studiis rhetoricis quaestiones selectae (Halle 1912).
[36] Cf. Theon 11; Aphthon. 12; Hermog. Prog. 10; cf. Priscian Praeex. 10 (citing Vergil). On the Greek rhetoricians see G. Kennedy, The Art of Rhetoric in the Roman World (Princeton, N.J. 1972) 614-641.
[37] Cf. H. Nissen, Kritische Untersuchungen über die Quellen der vierten und fünften Dekade des Livius (Berlin 1863) 14; F. W. Walbank, A Historical Commentary on Polybius 3 (Oxford 1979) 102, on 21.10.12-14; J. Briscoe, A Commentary on Livy, Books XXXIV-XXXVII (Oxford 1981) 321, on 37.19.7.
[38] 2.19.3-20.13 (Lake Regillus); 2.45-47 (against the Etruscans; note 2.47.8: et ad extrema ventum foret, ni legati …); 4.27-29.4 (Algidus; note 4.28.3: … ad unum omnes poenas rebellionis dedissent, ni Vettius Messius …); R. M. Ogilvie, A Commentary on Livy, Books 1-5 (Oxford 1965) 285-289, 353-357, 577-579.
[41] As more writers used the device — and particularly if it was taught in schools — the more likely was it to be employed in less exalted forms of literature. This is a probable explanation of its use in novels, sometimes in a way that seems to guy more exalted literature. Examples in the novel: Chariton Chaereas and Callirhoe 3.4.10 (Molinié); 7.2.2 M; guying: Petron. Sat. 69.6; 79.6.
[42] Cf., e.g., A. Deissmann, Light from the Ancient East{4}, tr. L. R. M. Strachan (London 1927) 368-373; Arndt-Gingrich-Danker, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament{2} (Chicago and London 1979) s.v. *parousia* b; for arrival of a king cf. AJ 11.328 (Alexander); 19.339 (Agrippa I); for the related verb describing “epiphanic” parousia see references collected by W. J. Slater, “The Epiphany of Demosthenes,” Phoenix 42 (1988) 126-130, especially 127, n. 7; the parousia of Dionysus, Diod. 3.65.1, 66.3; 4.3.3. The Latin equivalent is adventus: see F. Millar, The Emperor in the Roman World (Ithaca, N.Y. 1977) 31-40; S. MacCormack, Art and Ceremony in Late Antiquity (Berkeley 1981) 17-61. Overlapping categories: inscription from Tegea, G. Mendel, “Fouilles de Tégée,” BCH 25 (1901) 241-281, at 275, no. 11, “in the year 69 from the parousia of the god Hadrian in Greece.”
[43] Cf., e.g., Gen. 2.8-10; Exod. 17.1-6; Num. 20.7-11; Deut. 11.11-14, 28.12; 1 Kings 18.41-45; Ps. 104.10, 107.35; Isa. 35.5-7, 41.17-18, 43.19-20, 44.3; Jer. 2.13, 17.13; Ezek. 47.1-12; Joel 3.18; Amos 4.7-8; Zech. 14.8; Rev. 14.7, 22.1-2. Ps. 84.6 describes how barren land is transformed with springs and early rain as the pilgrims to Zion pass through it.
[44] *parousi/an* is the reading of E, a late epitome; the Latin version reads praesentiam; codd. *parrhsi/an*.
[45] E.g., Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.55.1; Herter, “Nymphai,” RE 17B, especially 1535-37.
[46] Cf. perhaps the allegedly clement weather in an otherwise wintry season favouring Maximian’s passage over the Alps, Panegyrici Latini 11.9-10 (Mynors).