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Jam hostium, prout cuique ingenium erat, catervae armatorum paucioribus terga praestare, quidam inermes ultro ruere ac se morti offerre; passim arma et corpora et laceri artus et cruenta humus: et aliquando etiam victis ira virtusque; postquam silvis appropinquarunt, collecti primos sequentium incautos et locorum ignaros circumveniebant.
The sentence, with its subtle Virgilian echoes, in which he laments his own and his wife's absence from Agricola's death-bed omnia sine dubio, optime parentum, adsidente amantissima uxore superfuere honori tuo; paucioribus tamen lacrimis comploratus es, et novissima in luce desideraverunt aliquid oculi tui shows a new and strange power in Latin.
Omnia sine dubio, optime parentum, assidente amantissima uxore, superfuere honori tuo: paucioribus tamen lacrimis compositus es, et novissima in luce desideravere aliquid oculi tui.
Yet, wretched Latinist as I was, I had been thunderstruck with delight when, rummaging the Cathedral after a Sunday service, where, by the way, I heard Pusey preach his last sermon, I came upon Burton's tomb, and read for the first time the immortal epitaph which begins: Paucis notus, paucioribus ignotus,
The chief of these is absolute anonymity. But, after all, anonymity only adds the pleasure of guessing. All that can be said of the Cornhill Diarist is that he lives in the country, and that, like the author of The Anatomy of Melancholy, he is paucis notus paucioribus ignotus.
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