XII. 4. 2.
αὐτῷ; the sense seems clearly to require ἐν αὑτῷ.


XIV. 3. 16.
μὴ ... ὑπερήμερον Most of the editors insert οὐ before φθέγξαιτο, thus
ruining the sense of this fine passage. Longinus has just said that a
writer should always work with an eye to posterity. If (he adds) he
thinks of nothing but the taste and judgment of his contemporaries, he
will have no chance of “leaving something so written that the world will
not willingly let it die.” A book, then, which is τοῦ ἰδίου βίου καὶ
χρόνου ὑπερήμερος, is a book which is in advance of its own times. Such
were the poems of Lucretius, of Milton, of Wordsworth.[3]

[Footnote 3: Compare the “Geflügelte Worte” in the Vorspiel to
Goethe’s _Faust_:
Was glänzt, ist für den Augenblick geboren,
Das Aechte bleibt der Nachwelt unverloren.]


XV. 5. 23.
ποκοειδεῖς καὶ ἀμαλάκτους, lit. “like raw, undressed wool.”


XVII. 1. 25.
I construct the infinit. with ὕποπτον, though the ordinary
interpretation joins τὸ διὰ σχημάτων πανουργεῖν: “proprium est _verborum
lenociniis_ suspicionem movere” (Weiske).

2. 8.