Boswell: Having regretted to him that I had learnt little Greek, as is too generally the case in Scotland; that I had for a long time hardly applied at all to the study of that noble language, and that I was desirous of being told by him what method to follow; he recommended to me as easy helps, Sylvanus’s First Book of the Iliad; Dawson’s Lexicon to the Greek New Testament; and Hesiod, with Pasori’s Lexicon at the end of it.
Sylvanus’s Iliad: Homeri Iliados liber primus.
Dawson’s Lexicon Novi Testamenti alphabeticum
Hesiod with George Pasor’s Lexicon
Biographical account of Georgius Sylvanus
The Iliad and Hesiod are more or less on the same scheme from my quick lookover. Greek with Latin translation and copious Latin notes. I didn’t think that the notes really kept the learner’s needs in mind, and are very distracted by the joys of commentary. Dawson’s Lexicon seems to be mostly accidence, and I suspect that this was its real use for anyone coming to the Greek knowing their Vulgate.
I meant to post this as well, some time back.
Dr. Johnson endeavoured to trace the etymology of Maccaronick verses, which he thought were of Italian invention from Maccaroni; but on being informed that this would infer that they were the most common and easy verses, maccaroni being the most ordinary and simple food, he was at a loss; for he said, ‘He rather should have supposed it to import in its primitive signification, a composition of several things; for Maccaronick verses are verses made out of a mixture of different languages, that is, of one language with the termination of another[826].’ I suppose we scarcely know of a language in any country where there is any learning, in which that motley ludicrous species of composition may not be found. It is particularly droll in Low Dutch. The Polemomiddinia[827] of Drummond of Hawthornden, in which there is a jumble of many languages moulded, as if it were all in Latin, is well known. Mr. Langton made us laugh heartily at one in the Grecian mould, by Joshua Barnes, in which are to be found such comical Anglo-Ellenisms as κλύββοισιν ἔβανχθεν: they were banged with clubs[828].
[826] ‘Macaroon (macarone, Italian), a coarse, rude, low fellow; whence, macaronick poetry, in which the language is purposely corrupted.’ Johnson’s Dictionary. ‘Macaroni, probably from old Italian maccare, to bruise, to batter, to pester; Derivative, macaronic, i.e. in a confused or mixed state (applied to a jumble of languages).’ Skeat’s Etymological Diet.
[827] Polemo-middinia, as the Commentator explains, is Proelium in sterquilinio commissum. In the opening lines the poet thus calls on the Skipperii, or Skippers:—
‘Linquite skellatas botas, shippasque picatas,
Whistlantesque simul fechtam memorate blodeam,
Fechtam terribilem, quam marvellaverat omnis
Banda Deûm, quoque Nympharum Cockelshelearum.’[828] In Best’s Memorials, p. 63, is given another of these lines that Mr. Langton repeated:—‘Five-poundon elendeto, ah! mala simplos.’ For Joshua Barnes see post, 1780, in Mr. Langton’s Collection.
I wasn’t able to find anything else like κλύββοισιν ἔβα[γ]χθεν, which made me chuckle. Joshua Barnes seems to have left more scholarship than jokes behind, unfortunately.
