Skip to main content

Full text of "Essays by divers hands, being the transations of the Royal Society of Literature of the United Kingdom"

See other formats 


fflfflmwm 

■III 


m 


Hi 

■H 


IhHHH! 

™§ilfil83P 

mfflBSsm 
TaRT 

HI 


ill 


■■■■.••■  i  ■  •• 


iSiiiil 
IIS  II 


[■nil 


HANDBOUND 
AT  THE 


UNIVERSITY  OF 
TORONTO  FRESS 


s 


1/>3i. 


LUCIAN   AND    HIS    TIMES: 
THE   UNDERFLOW   OF   CHRISTIANITY. 

BY    HOWARD    CANDLER,   M.A.,    F.R.S.L. 
[Read  January  24th,  1912.] 

The  Temple  of    Janus  was  closed.     The  whole 
civilised  world  was  wrapped  in  profound  peace. 

"  No  war,  or  battle  sound 
Was  heard  the  world  around." 

In  an  obscure  town  of  Palestine  a  babe  was 
born  who,  thirty-three  years  afterwards,  was 
crucified  under  the  government  of  the  procurator 
of  Judaea  as  a  common  malefactor,  partly  on  the 
ground  of  the  accusation  that  he  claimed  regal 
authority,  and  partly  because  he  was  obnoxious  to 
the  Court  of  Herod  and  to  the  ecclesiastical  domina- 
tion of  the  Jewish  priesthood.  At  his  death  the 
number  of  his  adherents  was  about  120,  but  they 
rapidly  increased  and  spread  beyond  the  confines  of 
Palestine.  At  Antioch  the  "  New  Way  "  attained 
the  dignity  of  a  distinctive  name ;  the  disciples 
were  called  Christians  first  at  Antioch.  Henceforth 
Christianity  was  one  more  among  the  multitude  of 
superstitions  with  which  the  Roman  world  was  rife 
— magic  from  Thessaly,  the  worship  of  Isis  from 
Egypt,  of  obscure  gods  and  goddesses  from  Syria, 
vol.  xxxi.  1 


1  LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

Judaism,  curious  Chaldaean  rites,  in  addition  to  the 
ordinary  civic  religion  of  Rome  and  the  crowd  of 
jostling  philosophical  schools.  The  tolerant  govern- 
ment admitted  one  more  Deity,  Christ,  to  the 
honours  of  the  Pantheon. 

At  first  the  new  religion  was  largely  *  a  religion 
of  slaves  and  peasants,  and  created  no  ripple  in  the 
social  and  political  world.  Josephus  (38-100  a.j>.) 
makes  no  mention  of  Jesus ;  for  the  brief  passage 
in  which  his  name  occurs  is  recognised  as  an  inter- 
polation. But  when  the  religion  had  spread  from 
Syria  through  Asia  Minor  to  Greece  and  Italy,  and 
thence  from  Spain  in  the  west  to  Africa  in  the  south, 
and  the  men  who  had  turned  the  world  upside  down 
and  were  everywhere  spoken  against  became  a  close 
knit  ubiquitous  brotherhood  with  secret  signs  and 
symbols,  the  authorities  became  alarmed,  and  from 
time  to  time  persecutions,  more  or  less  violent,  took 
place.  Pliny,  as  pro-consul  of  Bithynia,  asks  advice 
of  Trajan  what  he  is  to  do  with  this  peacefully 
lawless  sect;  Celsus  argues;  Juvenal  scoffs;  the 
educated  and  polite  classes  indolently  wonder.  The 
underground  stream  everywhere  forces  its  way  to 
the  surface  in  increasing  volume  and  strength.  And 
in  less  than  300  years  after  the  death  of  the  founder 
a  wonderful  thing  happens.  Constantine  the  Great, 
the  undisputed  monarch  of  an  undivided  world,  makes 

*  Largely,  but  by  no  means  universally.  The  New  Testament 
contains  the  names  of  men  and  women  of  rank  and  reputation,  and 
the  late  Epistle  of  James  clearly  indicates  that  the  presence  of 
wealthy  men  in  the  Christian  synagogues  was  an  ordinary 
occurrence.  Sufficiently  long  lists  have  been  drawn  up  of  men  of 
light  and  leading  in  the  Roman  world  who  were  open  adherents  of 
the  Christian  faith. 


LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  3 

profession  of  Christianity  and  takes  the  cross  of  a 
malefactor  as  his  standard.  The  faith  of  the  poor 
and  despised  multitude,  heralded  by  no  force  of 
sword  or  ecclesiastical  intolerance  or  philosophic 
wisdom,  became  and  has  remained  (with  one  brief 
interval  of  three  years)  the  professed  faith  of 
Europe ;  and  the  whole  system  of  paganism  as  an 
organic  entity  toppled  down  like  a  house  of  cards. 

What  was  the  strong  solvent  ?  What  was  the 
cause  of  this  overwhelming  change  ?  How  was  it 
that  all  that  was  embraced  in  the  proud  boast 
Romanus  sum  gave  way  before  the  humble  confes- 
sion Ghristianus  sum?  What  could  induce  the 
conquerors  of  the  world  to  plead  —  a  Roman  if 
yon  please ;  but,  in  any  case,  a  Christian  ?  * 

Greece  and  Rome  were  the  two  centres  of  civilisa- 
tion in  that  part  of  the  world  with  which  we  are 
concerned.  From  about  150  B.C.  to  120  a.d.,  or 
later,  Greece  had  largely  ceased  to  be  a  civilising 
factor.  No  name  in  art,  science,  poetry,  drama,  or 
philosophy,  except  the  great  name  of  Plutarch  (6(3- 

*  Bound  up  with  the  works  of  Lucian  is  a  very  important  dialogue, 
entitled  "  Philopatris."  It  is  written  in  a  strain  of  Lucianic  satire, 
and  spares  neither  pagan  nor  Christian  beliefs,  but  it  must  be 
relegated  to  a  period  some  century  and  a  half  after  Lucian's  death. 
It  represents  the  Christians,  who  are  assembled  in  an  "  upper 
chamber,"  as  a  set  of  morose  fanatics  filled  with  apocalyptic  visions 
of  death  and  destruction  to  their  city  and  country,  and  lost  to  all 
sense  of  patriotism.  The  writer  regards  them  with  much  the  same 
antipathy,  contempt,  and  suspicion  as  the  ordinary  Englishman  of  the 
Seventeenth  Century  or  the  Calvinistic  Puritan  of  New  England 
regarded  the  Quakers.  "With  this  difference— the  Englishman  and  the 
Puritan  of  the  New  World  had  not  forgotten  how  to  fight,  whereas  in 
Rome  it  had  become  increasingly  difficult  to  get  a  Roman  citizen  to 
enter  the  ranks  and  defend  his  country— as  with  our  own  Labour  party 
— and  the  military  forces  were  almost  wholly  barbarian  mercenaries. 


4  LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

120  ?  a.d.),  presents  itself.  The  Graecuhis  Esuriens 
of  Juvenal,  like  the  German  clerk  or  waiter  now  in 
England,  or  the  Jew  of  the  middle  ages,  was  every- 
where in  evidence,  and  everywhere  an  object  of 
suspicion  and  dislike. 

In  Rome,  the  Augustan  age  was  over.  In  the 
time  of  Lucian  (120-200  a.d.),  only  seven  names  in 
literature  rise  to  prominence,  and  of  these  Ptolemy 
was  born  at  Alexandria,  Galen  at  Pergamum  in  Asia 
Minor,  and  Apuleius  at  Madaura  in  Africa,  Lucian 
himself  being  a  Syrian.  Of  earlier  famous  men, 
Terence  was  born  at  Carthage,  Seneca,  Martial,  and 
Quintilian  in  Spain,  Petronius  at  Marseilles,  and 
Epictetus  was  a  Phrygian  slave.  In  any  case,  the 
golden  age  had  passed  and  the  silver  age  was 
passing. 

But  religion  can  flourish  in  a  silver  age  as  well  as 
in  a  golden  age,  or  even  a  copper  age.  But  in  Rome 
the  ancient,  virile,  national  religion  was  dying  or 
dead.  Lucretius  had  long  ago  lamented  that  the 
outcome  of  religion  was  shameful  and  disloyal  deeds. 
Juvenal  says  that  no  boy  who  had  attained  the 
privileges  of  manhood  (at  fourteen  years  of  age)  any 
longer  believed  the  fables  of  his  early  years.  He 
bitterly  complains  that  the  Roman  had  cast  away 
all  that  he  had  been  used  to  honour  as  a  Roman 
citizen;  all  the  noble  arts  of  war  and  peace — we 
have  already  dealt  with  the  difficulty  in  filling  up 
the  legions  with  Roman  citizens — and  only  clamoured 
for  food  and  games.  The  Haruspex,  whose  duty  it 
was  to  inspect  the  entrails  and  proclaim  the  omens 
(like  priests  at  Naples  of  the  present  day  presiding 
over  the  liquefaction  of  the  blood  of  St.  Januarius), 


LUCIAX    AND    HIS    TIMES.  0 

could  not  pass  another  diviner  without  winking  at 
the  folly  of  their  official  acts.  This  religion,  which 
had  at  no  time  been  a  religion  for  slaves  or  for  the 
wounded  in  life's  strife,  was  no  longer  a  religion  for 
free  men,  and  could  not  be  accepted  by  the  wrangling 
philosophers.  The  gods  of  Olympus  had  departed. 
The  women  flocked  to  the  temples  of  Isis,  or  of  the 
Syrian  deities,  or  of  Cybele,  or  followed  the  supersti- 
tion of  the  Jews,  or  of  the  cruel  and  obscene  deities 
of  Carthaginian  worship.  A  cry  was  heard  over  the 
ocean  that  even  Great  Pan  was  dead.  Here  and 
there  the  worship  of  some  minor  god  remained :  of 
Hercules,  the  friend  of  man,  or  of  Aesculapius,  the 
healer,  in  ineffective  contrast  to  the  Saviour  of  man- 
kind ;  yet,  generally,  with  legends  which  now  seemed 
incredible  and  which  had  lost  any  moral  or  spiritual 
significance  they  once  held,  men  felt  themselves  in  an 
eddying  ocean  tossed  to  and  fro  without  rudder  and 
without  compass. 

Let  us  consider  for  a  moment  the  work  of  some 
of  the  prominent  thinkers  who  attempted  to  guide 
the  better  instincts  of  thoughtful  and  earnest  men. 

Seneca  (died  65  A.D.).  Many  of  his  moral  treatises 
and  ten  of  his  tragedies  have  come  down  to  us.  His 
influence  was  strongly  felt  in  the  middle  ages,  and 
can  be  traced  in  such  different  characters  as  Chaucer, 
Roger  Bacon,  Columbus,  and,  directly  or  indirectly, 
Shakespeare.  It  was  long  believed,  and  is  not 
beyond  the  possibilities,  that  he  was  personally 
acquainted  with  St.  Paul. 

Plutarch  (66-120  a.d.).  Modern  Europe  still 
reads  his  '  Lives,'  which  have  an  immortal  fame. 
Though  he,  born  at  Chaeronea  in  Boeotia,  lectured 


6  LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

on  philosophy  in  Rome  in  the  reign  of  Domitian,  it 
is  strange  that  his  name  is  not  mentioned  by  any 
contemporaneous  Roman  writer.  Besides  his 
'  Lives,'  much  of  which  we  know,  apart  from 
personal  acquaintance,  through  Shakespeare,  his 
'  Moralia '  contained  his  lessons  for  his  generation 
and  for  the  middle  ages. 

Philo  the  Jew  (died  80  a.d.).  His  works,  written 
with  profound  belief  in  the  Divine  authorship  of  the 
Bible,  were  an  attempt  to  allegorise  and  harmonise 
scripture  with  the  teachings  of  Plato.  It  is  probable 
that  his  influence  over  the  Roman  world  was  slight, 
though  he  was  selected  to  oppose  Apion  in  a  matter 
concerning  the  privileges  of  the  Greeks  in  Alexandria, 
but  it  was  by  no  means  slight  with  the  writer  of  the 
fourth  Grospel,  who  refined  and  sublimated  the 
thoughts  and  the  very  words  of  Philo. 

Epictetus  (died  before  120  a.d.).  This  great  and 
noble  stoic  is  known  to  us  by  his  '  Enchiridion,'  put 
together  by  Arrian  from  the  notes  he  took  of  his 
master's  lectures.  Epictetus  was  no  Christian,  but 
it  is  almost  impossible  to  believe  that  he  was  not 
acquainted  with  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul,  for  he  fre- 
quently employs  unusual  words,  phrases,  and  idioms 
of  the  Apostle,  and  sometimes  the  framework  of  his 
argument.*  Epictetus  had  the  strongest  possible 
belief  in  the  filial  relationship  of  man  to  Grod — that 
Grod  was  the  captain  of  his  salvation,  that  he  had 
been  placed  in  the  world  to  take  his  part  in  the 
battle  of  life,  and  that  he  could  not  surrender  his 
post  or  escape  his  duties — that  he  would  not  desire 

*  It  is  possible  that  here  and  there  St.  Paul  is  using  stoic  terms, 
and  that  the  parallelism  is  the  other  way  about. 


LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  / 

to  do  so.  His  religion  was  the  masculine  religion  of 
a  noble,  generous-hearted  man,  and,  if  men  were  not 
so  often  the  creatures  of  their  emotions,  and  bowed 
down  by  sorrow,  deep  passion,  or  anguish,  or  by 
intolerable  and  imperative  impulses,  the  religion  of 
Epictetus  would  bear  a  man  bravely  and  honourably 
through  life.  But  we  are  not  all  stoics.  Some  of 
us  are  slaves ;  some  of  us  are  women ;  some  of  us 
are  miserably  bound  by  unhappy  circumstance,  or 
by  fatal  weakness.  Epictetus  was  the  last  great 
stoic.  He  stemmed  the  torrent  in  vain,  because  he 
appealed  only  to  half  human  nature.  But  if  the 
strong  man  desires  to  be  stronger,  to  be  braced  to 
highest  efforts,  he  should  read  and  apply  the 
*  Enchiridion  '  to  his  daily  life.  It  is  very  curious 
that  Lucian,  who  mentions  him  four  times,  and 
once  in  terms  of  genuine  admiration,  seems  to  have 
acquired  no  share  in  his  spiritual  nature.  The  two 
natures  seem  antagonistic. 

Marcus  Aurelius  (died  180  a.d.).  The  '  Medita- 
tions '  of  Marcus  Aurelius,  or  '  The  Golden  Book,' 
as  the  men  of  the  middle  ages  delighted  to  call  their 
beloved  treasure,  is  conceived  in  a  gentler  and  more 
Christian  spirit.  It  is  not  virile  like  the  work  of 
Epictetus.  It  does  not  startle  one  with  vehement 
phrases  which  grapple  the  soul  in  bands  of  steel. 
But  it  is  too  near  to  Christianity  for  us  not  to  feel 
that  the  high  and  noble  sentiments  of  the  writer 
have  been  better  expressed  by  Christian  apologists 
who  had  a  surer  foundation.  Our  wonder  rather  is 
that  a  pagan  thinker  could  have  been  so  Christian 
and  so  modern. 

Lucian.     This  is  a  long:  introduction  to  Lucian 


8  LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

himself.  We  might  preface  our  remarks  with  a  few 
words  on  his  life. 

Little  is  certainly  known  of  the  life  of  Lucian, 
and  of  that  little,  most  of  our  information  is  derived 
from  autobiographical  hints  in  his  writings.  Nor 
is  it  necessary  to  dwell  much  on  the  scattered  facts 
of  his  life  as  we  know  them,  except  so  far  as  they 
denote  character,  and  connection  with  the  life  of  his 
time,  and  are  an  explanation  of  his  writings.  For  us, 
Lucian  is  not  an  actor  in  the  business  of  the  world, 
but  a  thinker  and  a  writer. 

Circumstantial  evidence  enables  us  to  place  his 
birth  not  later  than  120  a.d.,  at  the  end  of  the 
reign  of  Trajan,  or  at  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of 
Adrian  (117-138).  He  was  a  Syrian,  bora  at 
Samosata.  His  parents  were  poor,  and  at  the  age 
of  fourteen  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  maternal  uncle, 
who  was  a  statuary.  His  apprenticeship  lasted  one 
day,  for,  being  set  to  polish  a  marble  tablet,  he  broke 
it,  was  soundly  beaten,  and  ran  home  refusing  to 
return.  He  tells  us  the  real  reason  of  his  parting 
with  his  uncle  was  that  the  old  statuary  was  afraid 
he  would  be  excelled  in  his  art  by  the  young- 
aspirant.  In  his  "  Dream,"  he  was  visited  by 
'Ep^o-yAu^i/o/  (Sculpture),  and  notSa'a  (Liberal  Edu- 
cation). Sculpture  was  in  the  eyes  of  the  Greeks 
a  mere  mechanical  art  and  education  the  birth- 
right of  a  free  man,  and  he  then  and  there  made  the 
selection  of  his  life-time.  Later  on  he  was  a  more 
or  less  successful  advocate,  and  studied  rhetoric, 
travelling  through  Greece,  Italy,  and  Gaul.  At 
Athens  he  learnt,  or,  in  any  case,  perfected  himself 
in  the  Greek  language,  becoming  the  master  of  a 


LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  9 

most  graceful  form  of  Attic  speech.  Greek  scholars 
are  agreed  in  extolling  the  charm  and  purity  of  his 
style.  For  myself,  with  little  more  than  a  school- 
boy acquaintance  with  Greek,  I  can  only  venture  to 
express  my  admiration  at  the  lucidity  and  limpid 
simplicity  of  the  writer,  his  selection  of  the  exact 
word  to  suit  his  meaning,  his  playful  irony,  and 
that  lambent  malice  which  makes  the  reader  laugh 
with,  rather  than  laugh  at,  the  object  of  ridicule  pre- 
sented to  him.  Lucian's  knowledge  of  Latin  seems  to 
have  been  imperfect,  but  he  displays  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  Roman  manners. 

Later  in  life  (say  when  he  was  forty  years  old), 
Lucian  had  become  a  person  of  considerable  import- 
ance, and  had  probably  accumulated  a  sufficient 
fortune.  He  abandoned  rhetoric  and  giving  lectures, 
and  wrote  the  works  which  have  made  him  his 
lasting  fame.  He  was  not  a  philosopher,  he  tells  us 
(ou  ao(j>uo),  but  a  layman,  one  of  the  multitude 
(iotwrrjc,  ek  rov  ttoXXov  oij'uou).*  When  he  was  old,  it 
appears  that  the  Emperor  Commodus  made  him 
procurator  of  a  part  of  Egypt.  The  date  of  his 
death  would  seem  to  be  in  or  about  200  a.d. 

Such  are  the  external  facts  known  about  Lucian. 
As  for  the  man  himself  he  was  the  most  modern  of 
all  men  of  the  old  world.  He  was,  as  Ben  Jonson 
says  of  Shakespeare,  a  man  of  any  time  ;  of  any 
nation.  He  was  &  flaneur  des  boulevards.  It  would 
not  have  seemed  out  of  place  to  have  seen  him  sipping 
his  absinthe  and  hob-nobbing  with  Voltaire  at  some 
Parisian  cafe,  tempering  the  keen  and  cruel  rapier 
thrusts  of  Voltaire  with  his  own  more  gentle  satire, 

*  In  Cambridge  dialect :  "  A  Poll  Man,  not  a  Dopli." 


10  LTJCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

Or,  on  the  other  hand,  lie  might  well  have  gone 
bras  dessus  dessous  down  the  Via  Sacra  with  Mon- 
taigne, cheapening  at  some  librarius  a  codex  or 
charta  of  the  now  almost  unknown  Lucius,  from 
whom  he  and  Apuleius  were  equally  to  "  convey  " 
(as  Shakespeare  says)  the  story  we  now  call  '  The 
Golden  Ass.'  Their  scepticism  would  mutually 
please.  Montaigne  would  say  "  Que  sais-je?"  and 
Lucian  would  adduce  the  doubtful  attitude  of  Pyrrho, 
who,  after  he  had  been  sold  and  handed  over  to  the 
merchant  at  the  auction,  was  not  satisfied  that  any 
negotiation  had  taken  place.  He  might  be  com- 
pared with  our  Thackeray  ;  for  neither  of  them 
suffered  their  eyes  to  be  blinded  with  delusions,  and. 
both  equally  detested  hypocrisy;  but,while  Thackeray 
had  a  magnanimous  compassion  for  the  creatures 
whose  follies  and  wickednesses  he  ruthlessly  exposed, 
Lucian  had  for  them  a  supreme  contempt. 

What  do  we  mean  by  cynicism  ?  The  root  of 
cynicism  is  to  be  found  in  Danton's  bitter  exclama- 
tion, Qui  hait  les  rice*,  hait  les  homines,  though 
Thackeray  himself  was  too  warm-blooded  and  too 
clear-sighted  to  be  a  cynic.  He  would  rather  have 
held  to  the  motto:  Tout  conn  aitre,  c'est  tout  par dormer. 
But  to  pardon  truly  one  must  know  truly.  Lucian 
knew,  but  he  did  not  pardon,  and  he  did  not  hate. 
He  was  like  Dante  and  Dante's  Virgil  in  the  Third 
Canto  of  the  Inferno.  They  saw  from  the  height 
above  the  struggling  masses  of  impotent  souls  en- 
tangled in  the  web  of  their  ignorances,  and  they 
passed  on.* 

*  When  the  learned  man  drives  away  vanity  by  earnestness,  he, 
the  wise,  climbing  the  terraced  heights  of  wisdom,  looks  down  upon 


LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  11 

To  Lucian  the  Syrian  the  mythologies  of  Greece 
and  Rome  seemed  not  only  incredible  hut  ridiculous. 
He  looked  upon  them  with  alien  and  averted  eyes. 
Nor  did  the  philosophies  greatly  attract  him.  He 
saw  something  to  admire,  but  much  more  to  attack. 
But  what  revolted  him  was  the  want  of  harmony 
between  the  professions  and  teachings  of  the  lecturers 
and  their  lives.  He  found  them  greedy  of  notoriety 
and  gain,  and  drowned  in  luxury  and  debauchery. 
It  might  have  been  supposed  that  the  noble  lives 
and  examples  of  Epictetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius  and 
their  noble,  strenuous  teachings  would  have  appealed 
to  his  better  nature.  One  died  about  the  time  of  his 
birth  and  the  other  was  his  contemporary.  But 
he  only  mentions  Marcus  Aurelius  twice,  in  one  case 
extolling  his  gentle  and  kindly  nature.  And  as  for 
Epictetus,  we  have  seen  that  he  only  mentions  him 
four  times,  once  with  general  marks  of  esteem.  As 
for  the  other  founders  of  philosophical  systems,  in 
the  '  Auction  of  the  Sectaries,'  one  after  another — 
Pythagoras,  Diogenes,  Aristippus,  Democritus, 
Heraclitus,  Socrates,  Chrisippus,  Aristotle,  Pyrrho, 
and  elsewhere,  Euripides,  are  the  victims  of  his 
lash.  In  the  '  Fisherman,'  philosophy  in  person, 
with  Virtue,  Temperance,  Justice,  Science,  and 
Truth  (who   can   only   with   difficulty  be  found)  as 

the  fools — serene  lie  looks  upon  the  toiling  crowd,  as  one  that  stands 

upon   the  mountain  looks  down  upon  those  that  stand    upon  the 

plain. 

Dhammapada. 

Cf.  Lucretius  : — 

Sapientum  tenipla  serena, 

Despicere  unde  queas  alios,  et  cernere  possis 

Errantes. 


1  2  LUC1AN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

assessors    weigh    the    philosophers    and   find    them 
wanting. 

What  was  the  influence  of  Lucian  on  his  genera- 
tion ?  It  must  have  been  very  considerable,  and 
it  must  have  acted  as  a  universal  solvent.  At  his 
touch,  religion  and  philosophy,  gods  and  philosophers, 
were  found  worse  than  immoral  or  incredible  ;  they 
were  contemptible  and  ridiculous ;  and  ridicule 
kills  all  noble  sentiment.  If  Lucian  did  not  build 
up  anything,  at  least  he  rent  all  ineptitudes  and 
pretentious  shows  of  wisdom  asunder,  and,  in  the 
void,  Christianity  had  room  to  grow  strong  and 
interpenetrating.  Men  cannot  live  without  religion, 
and  if  there  was  no  God  it  would  be  necessary,  as 
Robespierre  said,  to  create  one.  And  Christianity  said 
in  effect  to  hungry  mortals  :  "  All  your  known  gods 
are  Q^cme.  You  have  an  altar  to  the  Unknown  God. 
This  God  has  always  been  with  you.  And  now  we 
make  Him  known  to  you.  Ye  are  all  His  children. 
He  has  never  been  far  from  you."  This,  and  the 
assurance  of  immortality,  were  what  the  multitude 
could  understand — something  which  inspired  hope 
and  trust. 

If  Lucian  reverenced  all  great  and  simple  truths 
but  felt  they  could  not  be  brought  to  any  system, 
would  not  he,  a  Semite,  be  attracted  by  Christianity  ? 
I  think  he  was,  and  in  his  youth  had  been  almost 
persuaded  to  be  a  Christian.  Listen  to  him  in 
'  Hermotimus.' 

Lycinus(i.e  ,  Aiijai'oe=Aotnciaw»c)meets Hermotimus, 
hurrying  to  his  master's  lecture,  full  of  care  and 
anxious  thought.  In  a  delightful  Socratic  dialogue 
he  persuades  him :   (1)  That  if  in  twenty  years  he 


LUCIAN   AND    HIS    TEMES.  13 

lias  only  got  to  the  foot  of  the  ascent,  his  chances 
of  reaching  the  top  of  the  mountain  where  Virtue 
dwells  are  small ;  (2)  that  as  each  of  the  diverse 
teachers  insists  that  only  his  is  a  route  that  leads 
right,  and  that  all  the  other  routes  of  the  other 
teachers  are  wrong,  there  is  nothing  to  certify  him 
that  he  is  after  all  on  the  right  route ;  (3)  that  his 
teacher  who  dwells  in  the  very  temple  of  virtue  is 
guilty  of  theft,  drunkenness,  gluttony,  cruelty,  love 
of  gain,  violent  passion  ;  and  (4)  that  a  course  which 
is  so  painful,  so  precarious,  and  which  demands  so 
much  expenditure  of  time  and  money,  can  be  of  no 
great  value  to  humanity.  Hermotimus  is  in  despair. 
Then  Lychnis  says  that  he  has  heard  of  a  way  to  the 
City  of  God,  which  is  not  for  the  educated  and  noble 
and  rich  only,  but  for  all;  that  the  way  there  is 
absolutely  free  and  not  to  be  bought  for  money; 
that  the  possession  of  that  city  is  the  possession  of 
an  equal  brotherhood.     Lycinus  is  speaking. 

Lycinus  :  I  compare  virtue  to  a  city  whose  inhabitants 
enjoy  perfect  happiness;  wise,  courageous,  just,  temperate 
— almost  gods.  All  which  is  to  be  found  among  us — theft, 
violence,  covetousness — are  banished  from  this  fortunate 
city  ;  all  the  citizens  live  at  peace.  And  this  is  just  as  it 
ought  to  be,  for  that  which  causes  excitements  in  other 
cities — seditions,  rivalry,  quarrels  which  cause  men  to  trip 
up  the  heels  each  of  other — they  have  all  gone.  Gold, 
pleasures,  vain-glory — all  which  can  raise  dissension— none 
of  these  are  found  there.  Long  since  they  have  driven 
such  useless  things  out  of  the  city,  which  they  do  not  con- 
sider are  necessary  to  the  excellent  understanding  of  the 
people.  Life  there  is  calm,  perfectly  happy,  under  equit- 
able laws,  under  the  aegis  of  liberty. 

Hermotimus  :    What  then,  Lycinus  !  Is  it  not  well  that 


14  LTJCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

everybody  should  wish  to  become  a  citizen  of  such  a  city, 
without  counting  the  fatigue  of  the  journey,  not  discouraged 
by  the  length  of  time  in  getting  there,  so  long  as  one  can 
be  inscribed  among  the  number  of  the  inhabitants  and 
possess  the  rights  of  citizenship  ? 

Ly.  :  By  Zeus,  Hermotimus,  nothing  can  be  more  urgent. 
We  must  neglect  everything  else,  set  at  nought  the  father- 
land which  would  hold  us  back,  remain  insensible  to  and 
not  delay  for  the  lamentations  and  tears  of  our  children 
and  relations,  but  rather  engage  them  to  march  along  the 
same  route  with  us.  If  they  would  not  or  could  not  come, 
we  must  repel  them  and  advance  straight  towards  the  happy 
city ;  if  they  seize  our  cloak  to  prevent  our  passage,  we 
must  throw  it  on  one  side  and  continue  the  journey.  We 
need  not  fear,  indeed,  that  entry  will  be  shut  against  us  on 
the  plea  that  we  come  naked. 

Some  years  ago  I  heard  an  old  man  tell  how  things  were 
going;  he  even  urged  me  to  follow  him  there;  he  would  show 
me  the  way,  get  me  enrolled  on  my  arrival  as  a  citizen,  give 
me  a  place  in  his  ward  and  fellowship  that  I  might  have 
my  share  in  the  common  weal  : 

"Too  mad,  or  young,  the  offer  I  refused"  (Iliad). 

I  was  at  that  time  only  fifteen  years  old,  but,  for  all  that, 
I  was  then  perhaps  in  the  suburbs,  even  at  the  very  gates 
of  the  city.  This  old  man  told  me,  among  other  things 
with  regard  to  the  city,  so  far  as  I  can  remember,  that  all 
the  inhabitants  are  strangers  come  from  other  countries ; 
no  one  was  born  there  ;  they  are  principally  barbarians, 
slaves,  cripples,  dwarfs,  poor  ;  in  a  word,  no  one  is  refused ; 
it  is  their  custom  to  inscribe  all  who  will,  without  regard  to 
fortune,  dress,  appearance,  birth,  ancestral  rank.  None  of 
those  things  are  valued.  All  that  is  necessary  for  a  man, 
whoever  he  be,  to  become  a  citizen  is  to  have  intelligence, 
a  love  of  good,  to  scorn  delights  and  live  laborious  days,  to 
possess  a  soul  which  neither  yields  nor  faints  in  front  of  the 
numberless  difficulties  met  with  in  the  way.  If  one  proves 
that  he  has  such  powers  ;  if  one  has  sucessfully  pursued  the 


LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  15 

route  which  leads  to  the  city,  one  is  a  citizen  by  right,  and 
is  placed  in  the  same  rank  as  the  others.  Thus  the  words 
higher,  lower,  noble,  plebeian,  bond,  free,  are  reckoned  in 
that  city  as  names  and  conditions  of  no  value. 

Does  not  this  fine  passage  seem  built  on  Christian 
sentiment?  Does  not  this  vision  of  noble  truth 
remind  us  of  Bunyan,  these  phrases,  of  Milton,  the 
words  and  ideas,  of  the  Gospels  and  St.  Paul  ? 
Had  Lucian  indeed  become  a  Christian  we  might 
have  gained  a  second  Augustine,  but  we  should 
never  have  known  the  author  of  '  The  Dialogues  of 
the  Gods,'  '  The  Auction  of  the  Philosophers,'  or 
1  The  False  Prophet,' 

Unhappily  the  conclusion  of  the  controversy 
between  the  two  friends  is  lamentable.  Hermotimus 
is  persuaded  to  forego  his  ineffectual  task  by  the 
arguments,  half  sophistical,  half  admirable,  of 
Lycinus.  But  the  final  result  is  purely  negative — 
truth  is  undiscoverable.  Que  savons  nous?  One 
excellent  piece  of  advice  Lycinus  advances  to  his 
despairing  friend — the  same  as  St.  Ambrose  incul- 
cated on  his  disciples.  "  Don't  lament  the  past," 
says  he.  "  It  is  gone,  never  to  be  recovered.  But 
on  the  stepping-stones  of  the  dead  past  rise  to 
higher  things  in  the  future."  Good  !  But  Hermo- 
timus might  well  have  cried  out — "  What  hig-her 
things  ?  " 

Though  the  irony  of  this  dialogue  is  playful,  the 
note  struck  is  entirely  serious.  Lycinus,  that  is, 
Lucian,  would  persuade  himself,  if  he  could,  that 
truth  and  virtue,  as  they  exist,  so  also  can  be  found. 
But    his   scepticism  is   too   strong  for  him.      Video 


1C>  LT7CIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

meliora,  proboque.  Deteriora  sdquor.  He  is  another 
Ecclesiastes. 

In  '  Hermotinras '  we  see  Lncian  at  his  best, 
striving1  against  the  futilities  of  negation  and 
catching  a  glimpse  of  hope  and  trust  in  the  higher 
aspirations  of  humanity.  In  '  Peregrinus '  and 
'The  False  Prophet'  we  see  him  struggling  with 
honest  indignation  and  naked  sincerity  against 
debased  superstition  and  unblushing  hypocrisy, 
though  he  naively  expresses  a  doubt  whether  it  is 
not  below  the  dignity  of  a  philosopher  to  interest 
himself  in  such  matters.  In  the  charming  '  Dia- 
logues of  the  Gods  and  of  the  Dead '  he  lets  himself 
go  with  a  most  delightful  abandon,  and  proves  at 
the  same  time  by  his  unrestrained  freedom  of 
speech  that  the  multitude  and  the  philosophers 
alike  had  lost  all  sense  of  reverence  for  the  gods. 
I  will  conclude  with  an  extract  from  a  somewhat 
less  known  dialogue — 'The  Crossing  of  the  Styx,' 
or  '  The  Tyrant ' — in  which  Lucian's  serious  view 
of  the  underlying  facts  of  sanity  and  truth  contend 
with  an  inimitable  and  most  amusing  presenta- 
tion of  the  follies  of  the  religion  he  is  attacking. 

Mercury  is  conducting  the  souls  of  the  dead  to 
Charon's  boat  to  bring  them  across  the  Styx. 
Clotho,  the  Fate,  who,  with  her  sisters,  spins, 
presides  over,  and  cuts  the  thread  of  life,  and  who 
keeps  the  register  of  those  who  die,  attends  to  see 
that  all  is  in  order  and  that  the  register  is  correct. 
Charon  gets  impatient  and  cries  out: 

Charon  :  Why  are  we  still  delaying-?  Have  we  not  lost 
enough  time  ? 


LUCIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  17 

Clotho:  Quite  true.  Forward!  onboard!  I  will  take 
my  register  in  Land,  and  seated  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder, 
will  ticket  off  each  of  the  passengers,  and  make  out  who 
he  is,  whence  he  conies,  how  he  died.  Yon,  Mercury,  take 
them  in  order  and  place  them  here.  But,  first  put  on 
board  the  new-born  children.  What  answer  can  they 
make  to  my  enquiries  ? 

Mercury  :  Here,  boatman,  are  three  hundred  of  them, 
including  all  those  exposed  at  birth. 

Ch.  :  Ah  !  the  good  haul  !  It  is  unripe  grapes  you  are 
bringing  me. 

M.  :  Shall  we,  Clotho,  throw  in  with  these  the  dead  over 
Avhom  no  one  has  wept  ? 

CI.  :  You  mean  the  old  men.  Yes.  Come  near  all  you 
who  are  more  than  sixty  years  old.  How  ?  They  cannot 
hear  me.  Age  has  made  them  as  deaf  as  a  post.  They 
will  have  to  be  picked  up  and  put  in  the  boat. 

M.  :  There  they  are,  398— all  dry  and  ripe  and  cut  down 
in  full  harvest. 

CI.  :  True  enough.  They  are  raisins,  not  grapes.  Now 
Mercury,  bring  forward  those  who  have  been  wounded  to 
death.  First  of  all,  804  soldiers  ought  to  have  died 
yesterday  fighting  in  Media.. 

M.  :  There  they  are. 

CI.  :  Seven  men  have  committed  suicide  for  love,  as  well 
as  the  philosopher  Theagenes,  who  died  of  grief  for  a  girl 
of  Megara. 

M.  :  They  are  close  to  you. 

CI.  :  Where  are  the  gentry  who  slew  one  another  in 
emulation  for  a  kingdom  ? 

M.  :  Here. 

CI.  :  And  the  man  who  died  at  the  hands  of  his  wife 
and  her  lover  ? 

M.  :  At  your  right  hand. 

CI.  :  Bring  those  condemned  to  death,  crucified  or 
empaled,  and  those  slain  by  robbers.  I  have  on  my  tables 
sixteen.     Where  are  they,  Mercury? 

VOL.  XXXI.  2 


18  LUOIAN    A.ND    ITIS    TtMES. 

M.  :  There  they  are,  wounds  and  all.  Now  shall  I  bring 
in  the  women. 

67.  :  Yes,  and  the  shipwrecked,  and  all  those  carried  off 
by  fever  and  Agathocles,  the  doctor  who  was  called  in  to 
heal  the  in. 

Ch.  :  By  Jupiter,  get  that  man  on  board  who  is  bound 
hand  and  foot.     I  hope  his  prayers  Avon't  seduce  you. 

CI.  :  Stop  a  bit.     Let  us  see  who  he  is. 

M. :  It  is  Megapenthes,  son  of  Lacydes,  the  tyrant. 

CI.  :  Up  with  you  !     Get  on  board  ! 

Meg.  :  Oh  no,  mighty  Clotho  !  Let  me  go  back  a 
moment  to  earth.  I  will  return  of  my  own  accord  and 
without  being  sent  for. 

CI.  :   And  why  do  you  want  to  go  back  to  earth  ? 

Meg.  :   Let  me  finish  my  palace.     It  is  only  half  built. 

CI.  :  You  are  fooling  me.     Come  !     on  board  ! 

Meg.  :  Oh,  Fate  !  1  only  ask  a  little  moment.  Give  me 
a  day  to  let  my  wife  know  of  the  goods  I  am  leaving  her, 
and  the  place  where  I  have  buried  an  immense  treasure. 

CI.  :  The   matter  is  closed.     You  can  get  nothing  from 

me. 

Meg.  :  Must  all  that  beautiful  treasure  be  lost  then  ? 

CI.  :  (sarcastically).  It  won't  be  lost.  Make  yourself 
happy.     Megacles,  your  cousin,  will  find  it  and  use  it. 

Meg. :  What  an  outrage!  An  enemy,  whom,  fool  that  I 
was,  I  did  not  put  to  death. 

CI.  :  Well,  it  is  he,  anyhow.  He  will  survive  you  forty 
years  and  more,  and,  what's  more,  he  will  enjoy  all  your 
goods  and  gold. 

Meg.  :  How  unjust  you  are,  Clotho,  to  distribute  my 
possessions  amongst  my  most  cruel  enemies! 

CI.  :  And  you,  my  fine  fellow,  have  you  not  taken  all 
that  belonged  to  Cydimasus,  whom  you  killed,  after  cutting 
his  children's  throats  before  his  eyes. 

Meg.:  (mysteriously).  Listen,  Clotho,  I  have  something 
to  say  to  you  alone,  apart  from  this  crowd. 

CI.  :   Stand  a  little  aside,  you  others. 


LU01AN    AND    HIS    TIMES.  19 

Meg.  :  If  you  will  sot  me  free,  I  promise  you  a  thousand 
talents  of  gold  in  current  money.  You  shall  have  them 
to-day. 

CI.  :   So  you  arc  still  thinking-,  poor  fool,  of  gold. 

Meg.  :  I  will  add,,  if  you  like,  two  goblets  I  took  from 
Cleocritus  when  I  killed  him.  They  weigh  one  hundred 
talents  of  fine  gold  each. 

CI.  :  Weigh  ?  Shew  him  his  way*  onboard,  for  he  won't 
go  of  his  own  accord. 

Meg.  :  I  intreat  you .  The  town  wall  is  not  finished. 
The  arsenal  is  incomplete.  I  can  get  it  all  done  in  five 
days. 

CI.  :  Don't  trouble  yourself.  Another  will  finish  the 
wall. 

Meg. :  Clotho  !  I  have  a  request  to  make  which  is  quite 
reasonable. 

CI.  :  What  is  it  then  ? 

Meg.  :  Let  me  live  till  I  have  subdued  the  Pisidians, 
imposed  a  tribute  on  the  Lydians,  and  raised  a  magnificent 
monument  to  my  glory,  where  I  will  have  all  the  splendid 
actions  and  exploits  of  my  reign  inscribed. 

CI.  :  What  a  man  it  is  !  You  ask  for  a  day  and  would 
require  twenty  years. 

Meg.  :  1  will  give  you  surety  of  my  quick  return.  If 
you  like,  I  will  hand  over  to  you  as  hostage  my  only  son 
and  heir. 

CI.  :  What,  you  wretch  !  Him  whom  you  have  so  often 
wished  to  reign  in  your  stead  on  earth  ? 

Meg.  :  Yes,  I  did  wish  that  once.  But  now  I  wish  to 
save  my  skin. 

CI.  ;   Your  son  will   soon   follow  you,  assassinated  by  the 

new  king. 

Meg  :  At  least,  oh  Fate,  do  not  deny  me  one  thing. 

CI.  :   What  is  it  ? 

Meg.  :  I  want  to  know  what  will  happen  after  my  death. 

*   1MKT.  :      .      .      .      '{Xkovtoq  iKuripov  xpvaov  unityOovraXavTa  tKaTov. 
KA.  :   "EXjctrt  amov'  lotKi  yap  ovk  iiripPiiouv  kw. 


20  LUOIAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 

Gl  :  Listen,  and  let  the  revelation  increase  your  grief. 
Your  slave  Midas  will  marry  your  wife.  He  has  long  been 
in  love  with  her. 

Meg.  :  Infamous  man!  I  who  made  him  a  freedman  at 
the  prayers  of  my  wife. 

CI.  :  Your  daughter  will  soon  find  her  place  in  the  house 
of  the  new  tyrant.  The  images  and  statues  which  the 
state  has  raised  to  you  will  be  thrown  down  and  become 
the  laughing  stock  of  the  mob. 

Meg.  :  Tell  me,  will  none  of  my  friends  be  enraged  at 
these  outrages  ? 

CI.  :  Have  you  then  any  friend  ?  What  right  have  you 
to  a  friend  ?  You  don't  perceive  then  that  all  those  whom 
you  saw  every  day  grovelling  at  your  feet,  your  people  who 
applauded  to  the  echo  each  of  your  words  and  actions, 
only  did  so  from  fear  or  from  expectation  of  profit.  It 
was  only  your  power  they  sought,  and  they  seized  the 
opportune  moment. 

Meg.  :  For  all  that,  at  our  feasts  their  libations  were 
accompanied  with  loud  proclamations  and  good  wishes  for 
my  happiness.     All  were  ready  at  need  to  die  for  me. 

Gl.  :  And  yet  it  was  after  having  supped  with  one  of 
them  yesterday  that  death  seized  you.  It  was  the  last  cup 
of  wine  which  proved  fatal. 

Meg.  :  Ah  !  that  explains  the  bitter  taste.  But  why  did 
they  poison  me  ? 

CI.  :  Don't  ask  too  many  questions.  It  is  time  to 
embark. 

Meg.  :  One  thing  wrings  my  heart,  Clotho,  for  which, 
were  it  only  for  a  moment,  I  would  once  more  see  the  light 
of  day. 

CI.  :  What  is  it,  then  ?  It  must  be  a  matter  of  great 
importance. 

Meg.  :  My  slave,  Carion,  after  my  death  came  into  my 
chamber  the  evening  I  was  laid  out  and,  finding  the  occa- 
sion good,  seeing  that  no  one  was  in  charge,  he  shuts  the 
door,  seizes  my  mistress,   Glycerium,  with   whom   I  expect 


LUOiAN    AND    HIS    TIMES. 


21 


the  rascal  had  long-  had  a  secret  understanding,  and,  just 
as  if  no  one  was  there,  he  hugs  her  in  his  arms.  Then  he 
casts  his  eyes  on  me  and  cries  out,  "  Ah,  brigand  !  you 
have  often  beaten  me  unjustly.  Wait  a  bit."  At  these 
words  he  plucks  me  by  the  beard,  bangs  me  with  his  fist, 
and  then  spits  in  my  face,  exclaming,  "  Go  where  all 
wicked  men  go."  I  was  burning  with  anger,  but  could  not 
avenge  myself,  cold  corpse  that  I  was.  Then  the  perfidious 
girl,  when  she  heard  the  noise  of  those  who  were  coming, 
moistens  her  eyes  with  her  pocket-handkerchief  to  make 
believe  she  was  weeping  for  my  loss,  sobs  like  anything, 
and   goes  away  crying  "Oh  Megapenthes,  Megapenthes, 

oh."     Oh,  if  I  could  only  get  hold  of  them ! 

CI.  :   Stop  your  idle  threats  and  get  on  board.    It  is  time 
to  appear  before  the  tribunal  of  the  judge. 
Meg.  :  Who  will  dare  to  condemn  a  king  ? 
CI.  :  A  king?  No  one!  But  a  dead  man,  Rhadamanthus. 
You  will  see  him  and  hear  him  pronounce  just  judgments 
soon  enough.     On,  on,  no  more  delay. 

Meg.  :  Oh  fate  !  let  me  be  one  of  the  common  people; 
poor,  or  even  a  slave,  instead  of  a  king.  Only  let  me  live 
again. 

CI.  ;  Where  is  Charon  and  his  stick  ?  And  you,  Mercury, 
both  of  you  drag  him  by  the  feet  to  the  ladder  ;  for  he  will 
never  get  in  by  himself. 

M.  :  Follow  us,  you  slippery  fellow.     Hold  him   tight, 
Charon,  and,  my  word,  for  greater  security.     .     .     . 
Ch.  :   Quite  so.     Fasten  him  to  the  mast. 
Meg.  :  Well,  anyhow  I  must  take  my  seat  in  the  place  of 
honour. 

CI.  :  Why  ? 

Meg.  :  By  Jupiter,  because  I  was  a  king,  escorted  by  ten 
thousand  men  at  arms. 

Ch. :   My  faith  !  Carion  was   not  in   the  wrong  to   pluck 
you    by   the    beard.      I    will    make    t ho   memory   of   your 
tyranny  bitter  to  you  with  a  taste  of  the  stick. 
CI.  :   There,  there  !      Away  with  him  ! 


22  LUCIAN   AND    HIS   TIMES. 

And  now  listen  to  the  splendid  ending.  The 
tyrant  has  been  tried : 

Rhadamanthus  :  No  need  of  further  witness.  Put  off 
your  purple  garments  that  we  may  count  the  stains  on  your 
soul.  Great  God  !  he  is  marked  from  head  to  foot  a  livid 
blue  with  the  multitude  of  spots.  What  sort  of  punish- 
ment must  we  inflict  on  him?  Cast  him  into  Phlegython 
or  deliver  him  to  Cerberus  ? 

Cyniscus  (the  cynic)  :  No.  But,  if  you  permit,  I  will 
suggest  a  new  sort  of  punishment  applicable  to  his  crimes. 

Rhad.  :   Say  on.     I  shall  be  much  obliged  to  you. 

Cyn.  :  It  is  the  custom,  I  believe,  for  the  dead  to  drink 
the  water  of  Lethe. 

Rhad.  ;  It  is. 

Cyn.  :  Let  him  only  not  be  permitted  to  drink  of  it. 

Rhad. :  Why? 

Cyn.  :  He  will  be  cruelly  punished  by  the  memory  of  his 
earthly  power  and  by  the  thought  of  his  old  pleasures. 

Rhad.  :  Right  !  Let  him  suffer  this  chastisement. 
Chain  him  near  Tantalus  and  let  him  remember  all  he  has 
done  during  his  life. 

Brutal  and  ineffective  for  the  poor  ignorant  fool. 
But  is  not  this  a  more  excellent  way  than  the 
mediaeval  hell  ? 

The  Chairman  (W.  J.  Courthope,  Esq.,  C.B., 
D.Litt.,  V.P.)  :  I  am  sure  that  I  am  only  expressing 
the  feelings  of  all  those  who  are  present  in  saying- 
how  much  obliged  we  are  to  Mr.  Candler  for  his 
extremely  able  and  interesting  paper.  He  will 
perhaps  allow  me  personally  to  express  my  admira- 
tion for  the  skilf ul  manner  in  which  he  has  condensed 
into  a  brief  and  effective  form  the  very  pregnant 
subject  which  is  indicated  by  the  title  of  his  paper. 
He    has    dwelt  justly    on    the    completely   negative 


LUCIAN   AND    niS    TIMES.  23 

character  of  Lucian's  genius.  Undoubtedly  the 
negation  of  all  positive  religious  belief  in  Lucian's 
time  was  at  once  one  of  the  most  important  factors 
in  the  eventual  establishment  of  Christianity  as 
the  religion  of  the  Roman  Empire,  and  also  the 
explanation  (though,  as  Mr.  Candler  justly  said,  only 
partially  the  excuse)  of  Lucian's  sceptical  attitude 
towards  the  new  Faith.  It  is  evident  that  Lucian's 
judgment  on  all  matters  about  which  he  speaks  in 
his  dialogues  was  exclusively  intellectual,  and  what 
his  age  needed  was  moral  Faith.  He  used  the 
dialogue,  as  Plato  had  used  it  centuries  before, mainly 
for  the  purpose  of  testing  the  truth  of  current 
opinions  ;  and  perhaps  we  ought  not  to  be  too  hard 
on  him  for  not  attempting  a  constructive  solution 
of  the  moral  problems  of  his  time,  seeing  how  little 
success  Plato  himself  had  achieved  in  his  efforts  to 
constitute  by  means  of  philosophy  alone  a  positive 
mode  of  belief  which  would  satisfy  the  needs  of 
human  nature.  On  the  other  hand,  the  artistic  use 
which  Lucian  made  of  the  dialogue  as  the  instru- 
ment of  his  thought  is  deserving  of  our  very  high 
admiration.  Mr.  Candler  has  spoken  of  the  charm- 
ing purity  and  limpidity  and  the  absence  of  all 
affectation  from  his  style,  and  I  may  incidentally 
commend  this  to  the  advocates  of  classical  education 
— with  whom  I  enthusiastically  range  my  self — as  an 
illustration  of  the  expediency,  in  teaching  the  classics, 
of  drawing  attention  historically  to  the  character 
of  the  thought  in  the  great  authors  of  Greece  and 
Rome,  instead  of  confining  the  attention,  as  has 
hitherto  been  too  much  the  practice, to  mere  accuracy 
of  philological  detail.     Lucian's  use  of  the  dialogue 


24  LUOIAN   AND    HIS    TIMES. 

which  lie  applied  to  the  circumstances  of  his  own 
age  was,  intellectually  speaking,  exactly  what  his 
age  needed,  and  when  we  consider  the  relation  in 
which  he  stands  to  Christianity  we  ought  to  observe 
how  great  was  his  intellectual  influence  on  such  a 
writer  as  Erasmus,  whose  '  Colloquies,'  evidently 
modelled  on  those  of  Lucian,  did  so  much  to  advance 
the  cause  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Reformation 
in  the  sixteenth  century.  As  to  the  matter  of  such 
a  dialogue  as  "  Hermotimus  "  and  its  connection  with 
Christianity,  Mr.  Candler  has  well  shown  us,  look- 
ing at  it  from  the  merely  philosophical  side,  in  how 
many  respects  it  anticipates  the  spirit  of  Bunyan's 
1  Pilgrim's  Progress  ' ;  and  to  this  I  would  add  that 
the  extract  he  has  so  appropriately  given  us  from 
the  dialogue  of  the  '  Crossing  of  the  Styx  '  may  be 
suggestively  compared  with  the  style  of  some  of  the 
early  English  Moralities.  If  anyone  will  refer  to  the 
admirable  Morality  called  '  Everyman,'  he  will  at 
once  see  what  a  close  parallel  exists  between  the 
satirical  replies  of  Clotho  to  Megapenthes  the  Tyrant 
and  those  of  Goods  to  Everyman  when  the  latter 
attempts  to  rely  on  his  riches  at  the  moment  of 
death. 


THE    BEST    POETRY. 

BY   THOMAS    STURGE    MOORE,   F.R.S.L. 
[Read  March  27th,  1912.] 

I  shall  attempt  to  show  you  why  the  best  poetry 
usually  passes  unobserved,  and  how  you  may  train 
yourselves  to  recognise  it. 

Matthew  Arnold,  our  greatest  literary  critic  in  the 
last  century,  thought  that  if  we  were  to  draw  full 
benefit  from  poetry,  "  we  must  accustom  ourselves 
to  a  high  standard  and  to  a  strict  judgment,"  and 
thus  learn  to  recognise  "  the  best  in  poetry." 

No  easy  task,  you  think. 

Yet  the  means  whereby  it  may  be  accomplished 
are  simple. 

First :  A  habit  of  making  the  mind  up  as  to  which 
poem  among  those  we  read  satisfies  us  best ;  not  to 
rest  there,  nor  until  we  know  whether  the  whole 
poem  causes  our  admiration  or  whether  parts  of  it 
are  only  accepted  as  introduction  or  sequel  to  this 
or  that  passage ;  till,  if  possible,  we  discriminate  the 
most  perfect  line,  phrase  or  rhythm. 

Secondly  :  A  determination  to  become  intimate 
only  with  verse  that  stands  the  test  of  our  most 
active  moods,  instead  of  letting  the  luckless  day, 
with  its  relaxed  temper,  console  itself  with  some- 
thing that  we  have  perceived  to  be  second-rate.  For 
in  proportion  as   we  are  loyal  to   our  taste,  it  will 

vol.  xxxi.  3 


26  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

become  more  difficult  to  please  until  at  last  a  really 
sound  judgment  is  acquired. 

Perhaps  you  will  think  I  speak  too  confidently, 
and  that  good  taste  in  poetry  is  not  within  the  reach 
of  every  honest  endeavour. 

For  a  while  please  imagine  that  you  may  be  mis- 
taken, and  admit  that  the  method  of  developing 
taste  is  possibly  both  simple  and  native  to  mankind. 

Difficulty  really  arises  through  the  mind's  pre- 
occupations, which  prevent  a  sufficiency  of  con- 
sideration being  applied  to  aesthetic  experience.  So 
manifold  and  strong  are  these  distractions  that 
perhaps  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  men  in  a  genera- 
tion continue  to  form  their  taste  through  many  years 
together. 

The  probability  of  this  will  appear  if  we  roughly 
sketch  the  accidents  which  deter  us  from  persever- 
ing, even  though  we  leave  out  of  sight  all  those 
which  deprive  taste  of  opportunity,  and  indicate 
merely  such  as  induce  bad  habits  of  mind. 

Many  readers,  supposing  them  to  have  set  out 
unprejudiced,  may  soon  be  committed  to  praise  or 
blame,  and  then  prove  reluctant  to  revise  and  reject 
those  so  confident  judgments.  This  unwillingness 
to  renounce  infallibility  already  seduces  their  minds 
to  continue  a  higher  strain  of  praise  or  a  more 
rigorous  blame  than  now  appears  due ;  and  such 
disloyalty  spreading  will  even  blight  the  roots  of 
admiration. 

More  modest  souls  are,  on  the  contrary,  all  ears 
for  others'  opinions;  yet  the  veiy  openness  of  their 
minds  may  let  in  such  a  crowd  of  contradictory 
voices  that  in  the  din  and  confusion  their  own  poor 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  27 

reason,  unable  to  hold  its  own,  by  degrees  acquiesces 
in  silence. 

Some,  again,  read  verse  so  quickly  or  in  such 
quantities  that  energy  fails  them  for  searching, 
sifting  and  listening  to  their  genuine  impressions 
with  ardour  and  thoroughness:  while  others  will 
desist  from  effort  through  mere  indolence,  and  so 
making  fewer  and  fewer  discoveries  of  excellence, 
will  gradually  take  less  interest  in  poetry  till  they 
no  longer  find  it  worth  while  to  read  any. 

Then  there  are  those  who  conclude  that  great 
poets  produce  nothing  but  great  poetry,  and  drown 
their  taste  in  forced  admiration  for  a  sea  of  failure, 
since  success  crowns  the  efforts  of  poetical  geniuses 
far  less   frequently  than  those  of  skilled  artisans. 

Taste,  in  minds  more  orderly  than  appreciative, 
is  often  suffocated  by  scholarship.  Knowledge 
concerning  man,  period  or  text  absorbs  them,  till 
beauty,  whose  supposed  presence  was  their  pretext 
for  study,  is  habitually  overlooked  by  their 
familiarity. 

Again,  ardent  partisans  will  find  the  poetry  whose 
beauty  most  delights  them  tainted  with  convictions 
to  which  they  are  opposed, — heterodox  religious 
dogmas,  or  ultra  Tory  or  ultra  Radical  theories  with 
which  they  have  no  patience :  or  it  may  even  happen 
that  some  true  poet  shocks  their  respectability  with 
what  they  can  honestly  call  gross  immorality. 

In  all  these  ways,  and  many  more,  men  habitually 
stunt  and  adulterate  their  taste  instead  of  allowing 
it  to  refresh,  refine  and  reform  their  minds,  even 
when  they  have  started  unprejudiced,  and  alert  for 
discovery. 


28  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

Now  a  still  greater  mass  of  individuals  are  biassed 
against  poetry  from  the  start.  Its  mere  unfamiliarity 
appals  them.  Like  old-fashioned  servants,  they 
keep  their  lives  consistently  downstairs  in  regard  to 
it.  Whether  vice  or  virtue,  it  is  not  for  the  likes 
of  them. 

Their  bolder  brothers  are  ashamed  to  associate  so 
fantastic  a  mode  of  speech  with  business-like 
cogitations.  Rhyme  is  all  very  well  in  a  music-hall 
song ;  but  what  an  inconceivable  nuisance  to  a  man 
who  wishes  to  be  undistracted  !  And  even  when  not 
so  alienated  by  ignorance,  or  the  inhuman  circum- 
stancesof  their  lives,  they  may  alone  be  impressionable 
through  some  enthusiasm,  and  thus  become  exclusive 
readers  of  imperialistic  or  socialistic  verse  because 
they  are  aglow  with  sympathy  for  the  poet's  ideas, 
and  remain  immovable  by  similar  or  superior 
beauties  not  so  associated. 

In  this  way  many  folk  enjoy  hymns  to  whom  all 
other  poetry  is  distasteful,  or  are  ravished  by 
limericks  who  could  not  be  tempted  to  open  a 
Golden  Treasury. 

Again  the  kindling  eloquence  of  some  critic,  the 
voice  and  manner  of  some  reader,  cause  their  taste 
to  be  passionately  espoused  :  when  the  same  ardent 
hero-worship  Avhich  transplants  it  may  prove  the 
enemy  of  its  further  growth.  For  discipleship  will 
often  take  a  perverse  pride  in  refusing  to  admire 
and  love,  except  where  it  has  the  warrant  of  its 
master's  actual  example. 

All  these  are  kinds  of  initial  bigotries  which  may 
easily  be  so  ingrained  in  a  person  of  fourteen  that 
hardly  any  upheaval  can  be  conceived  which  should 


THE    BEST    POETRY. 


29 


lay  bare  the  foundations  of  their  humanity  to  this 
most  congenial  of  influences,  the  power  of  the  best 
poetry. 

A  third  class  are  those  who  are  meanly  corrupt ; 
endowed  with  a  little  taste,  they  have  employed  it 
on  personal  or  social  ends,  instead  of  desiring  to  be 
employed  by  it  in  the  discovery  of  excellence.  They 
have  sought  sentimental  consolations  or  a  pick-me- 
up  for  enthusiasm,  and  used  and  abused  this  nectar 
as  others  use  and  abuse  alcohol. 

Or  by  its  means  they  have  tried  to  shine  in 
society,  to  pass  for  cultured  people  cheaply.  Or 
they  have  learned  to  understand  and  theorise  about 
it  in  order  to  teach  in  a  school  or  give  an  extension 
lecture ;  or,  through  the  weakness  of  all  their  other 
tastes,  have  drifted  into  literary  criticism  or  a  pro- 
fessorship at  an  university  by  way  of  excusing  their 
existence. 

In  all  these  ways  taste  may  be  harnessed  to  a 
market  cart,  and  trot  backwards  and  forwards  on 
the  highway,  respected  among  other  respectable 
trades,  but  stunted,  cowed  and  gelded. 

Now,  suppose  that  all  these  dangers  have  been 
avoided, — and  there  are  few  walks  of  life  not  notably 
infested  by  one  or  another  of  them,- — right  across  the 
road  of  progress  in  good  taste  there  then  lies  waiting 
a  more  terrible  ogre,  who  enslaves  great  geniuses  and 
starves  minds  potentially  as  rich  as  the  Indies.  He  is 
that  species  of  vanity  which  admires  what  is  imperti- 
nent or  accidental  because  it  is*  a  man's  own.  All  satis- 
faction with  mere  cleverness,  mere  daintiness,  mere 
subtlety,  oddity,  bravado,  blnffness,  etc.,  witli  which 
fine  designs  have  been  teased  or  disfigured  is  wound 


30  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

of  his  dealing.  No  literature  has  he  scarred  more 
deeply  than  our  English.  Shakespeare  himself 
could  not  defend  the  grandest  poems  ever  conceived 
against  his  barbarity. 

"  'Be  true  to  your  taste/  this  mocking  giant  cries,  'your 
own  taste,  not  any  one  else's.  Be  not  overborne  by  tradi- 
tion or  corrupted  by  fashion.  Dare  on  your  own  account 
and  let  the  ideal  take  care  of  itself.  What !  Correct 
nature,  correct  yourself  !  Amazing  nonsense  !  You  are  what 
you  are;  Nature  is  what  it  is.  That  is  all  we  want  to 
know  ;  all  we  can  admire.' 


> }) 


Deluded  by  this  advocate  of  a  specious  loyalty  to 
taste,  men  tie  themselves  to  first  thoughts  and  raw 
emotions  as  though  these  were  more  essentially  their 
own  than  thoughts  cleared  and  polished  by  reflection, 
or  emotion  chastened  by  considerate  expression. 
They  will  relinquish  study  in  dread  of  tainting 
their  originality,  checking  their  verve,  or  confusing 
their  impressions.  "  I  want  to  put  down  just  what 
I  think,  what  I  feel,  nothing  more,  nothing  less," 
they  plead.  Alas !  had  you  taken  up  with  that 
theory  in  infancy  you  would  be  a  baby  still. 

A  thriving  taste  is  like  a  seedling,  intensely  itself, 
but  determined  to  be  a  tree.  Its  possessor  must  be 
loyal  to  the  laws  of  its  growth  and  provide  it  with 
food,  light,  air.  It  does  not  desire  instant  petrifac- 
tion to  preserve  it  from  change  and  inconsistency, 
but  is  eager  to  embrace  and  attack  the  unknown  in 
order  to  obtain  new  impressions,  to  arrange  and 
recompose  with  its  own.  And  as  a  creator  who 
owns  such  a  taste  is  constantly  recasting,  reconsider- 
ing and  correcting  his  work,  and  eschews  both  haste 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  31 

and  lethargy,  so  an  appreciator,  whose  taste  lives, 
strives  after  larger  comprehension  by  watching 
those  whom  he  surmises  may  possibly  possess  such ; 
and  by  sifting  and  searching  his  present  judgments 
he  will  be  constantly  reconstructing  hierarchies  of 
merit,  giving  marks,  100  for  Shakespeare's  best 
sonnet,  a  duck's  egg  for  his  worst. 

Mr.  Lascelles  Abercrombie  lately  published  "  The 
Sale  of  St.  Thomas,"  a  fine  poem.  He  must  take  up 
at  least  half  a  dozen  poets  and  come  very  near  the 
top  of  the  class.  Yet,  if  in  "  The  Emblems  of  Love," 
which  has  appeared  since,  he  seems  to  us  to  have 
done  but  little  to  secure  that  pre-eminence,  this  also 
should  be  promptly  admitted. 

In  a  definite  number  of  stanzas,  Mr.  Herbert 
Trench's  fine  gift  of  a  musical  style  becomes  one 
with  felicity  of  conception.  It  is  worth  while  to 
know  it,  and  to  be  jealous  over  a  single  unit  more 
or  less.  This  ceaseless  movement  and  reorganisa- 
tion of  a  man's  judgment  is  a  condition  of  the 
growth  of  taste,  and  enables  him  to  look  back  on 
bygone  admirations  with  the  conviction  that  those 
of  to-day  are  stronger,  more  definite,  and  yield 
him  purer  delight. 

But  improviser  and  impressionist  accept  just 
what  happens  to  be  there,  and,  while  they  try  to 
record  it  unaltered  by  reason  or  tendency,  it  dwin- 
dles for  lack  of  the  nourishment  that  a  purpose  and 
reconsideration  would  have  given  it.  Impressionism 
should  not  be  regarded  as  the  practice  of  a  school 
of  painters ;  this  bad  habit  is  as  old  as  Jubal,  the 
father  of  all  such  as  handle  the  harp  and  organ. 
Even    the    modern    avowed    and  vain-glorious  im- 


32  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

pressionism  impoverished  the  art  not  only  of 
Whistler,  but  that  of  Meredith ;  nay,  it  had  infected 
even  such  a  genius  as  Browning,  and  all  but 
justifies  what  Mr.  Hantayana,  perhaps  the  finest 
literary  critic  alive,  says  of  him  : 

"  Now  it  is  in  the  conception  of  tilings  fundamental  and 
ultimate  that  Browning  is  weak,  he  is  strong  in  the  concep- 
tion of  things  immediate.  The  pulse  of  emotion,  the 
bobbing  up  of  thought,  the  streaming  of  reverie — these  he 
can  note  down  with  picturesque  force  or  imagine  with 
admirable  fecundity.  Yet  the  limits  of  such  excellence 
are  narrow.  For  no  man  can  safely  go  far  without  the 
guidance  of  reason.  His  long  poems  have  no  structure. 
.  .  .  Even  his  short  poems  have  no  completeness,  no  lim- 
pidity. .  .  .  What  is  admirable  in  them  is  the  pregnancy 
of  phrase,  vividness  of  passion  and  sentiment,  heaped-up 
scraps  of  observation,  occasional  flashes  of  light,  occasional 
beauties  of  versification,  all  like — 

'  The  quick  sharp  scratch 
And  blue  spurt  of  a  lighted  match.' 

There  is  never  anything  largely  composed  in  the  spirit  of 
pure  beauty,  nothing  devotedly  finished,  nothing  simple 
and  truly  just."* 

Rossetti  called  a  sonnet  "  a  moment's  monument." 
Fortunately  he  did  not  mean  all  he  might  have 
meant  by  it,  and  his  own  sonnets  were  the  result  of 
long  hours  of  meditation,  and  recast  again  and 
again.  His  phrase,  however,  epitomises  this  theory; 
a  moment,  not  a  choice  moment,  but  any  single 
moment,  is  considered  as  worthy  of  an  eternal 
monument.  With  this  end  in  view  the  writer  is 
more    fortunate   than    the    artist.     He  may  record 

*  '  Poetry  and  Religion  ' :  "  The  Poetry  of  Barbarism,"  p.  208. 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  33 

minute  after  minute  just  what  words  come  into 
his  head,  till  at  last  none  come  and  his  work  is 
finished.  And  appreciation  for  such  work  is 
acquired  in  the  same  manner,  by  stupefying  reason 
and  yielding  oneself,  like  the  smoker  of  opium,  to  a 
stream  of  suggestions. 

The  out  and  out  impressionist  would  be  like  a 
man  who  should  strip  his  clothes  off  in  order  to 
prove  that  his  honesty  needed  no  disguise,  and, 
when  he  was  naked,  must  be  clapped  into  an  asylum 
because  he  had  lost  his  wits.  Instead  of  accumu- 
lating resources,  the  improviser  or  impressionist 
whittles  them  away  ;  though  he  be  rich  at  the  out- 
start,  he  will  always  be  poorer  in  the  end.  This 
process  has  a  wide-spread  fascination  even  in  prac- 
tical life,  as  the  bankruptcy  courts  attest.  Running 
downhill  begets  its  proper  exhilaration,  one  moves 
faster  and  faster ;  the  invigoration  derived  from 
ascending  must  maintain  itself  in  spite  of  decreasing 
speed. 

Now  not  only  do  the  victims  of  these  many 
maladies  of  taste  which  I  have  enumerated  miss 
sound  health,  but,  by  implacable  necessity,  they 
become  passively  or  actively,  here  or  there,  enemies 
and  maltreaters  of  poetry,  who  resist  and  persecute 
her  best. 

Why  should  we  then  wonder  at  the  ups  and 
downs  of  literary  history,  the  blindness  of  con- 
temporaries, the  long-continued  bigotry  of  worthless 
fashions,  or  at  the  lives  and  misfortunes  of  poets  ? 

Poetry,  as  distinguished  from  prose,  is  for- 
mally rhythmic ;  and  the  reason  why  it  is  so,  is  that 


:54  THE   BEST   POETRY. 

a  majority  of  the  finest  mentalities  have  considered 
formal  rhythms  capable  of  greater  beauty.  Apart 
from  their  beauty  they  are  simply  inconvenient. 

Browning  compares  the  ravishing  depth  and 
warmth  of  colour,  which  Keats  discovered  the  secret 
of,  to  Tyrian  purple,  and  says  that  he  flooded  the 
literary  market  with — 

"  Enough  to  furnish  Solomon 
Such  hangings  for  his  cedar-house, 
That,  when  gold-robed  he  took  the  throne 
In  that  abyss  of  blue,  the  Spouse 
Might  swear  his  presence  shone. 

"Most  like  the  centre-spike  of  gold 
Which  burns  deep  in  the  blue-bell's  womb, 
What  time,  with  ardours  manifold 
The  bee  goes  singing  to  her  groom, 
Drunken  and  over-bold.'' 

■ — stanzas  whose  beauty  is  worthy   to    rank    with 
Keats' s  own  work,  and  which  add  to  his  luxurious 
richness  of  diction  a  directness  and  energy  of  move- 
ment such  as  he  has  left  no  example  of. 
But  Browning  continues : 

"And  there's  the  extract,  flashed  and  fine 
And  priced  and  saleable  at  last ! 
And  Hobbs,  Nobbs,  Stokes  and  Nokes  combine 
To  paint  the  future  from  the  past, 
Put  blue  into  their  Hue. 

"  Hobbs  hints  blue, — straight  he  turtle  eats  : 
Nobbs  prints  blue, — claret  crowns  his  cup  : 
Nokes  outdares  Stokes  in  azure  feats, — 
Both  gorge.     Who  fished  the  murex  up  ? 
What  porridge  had  John  Keats  ?  "*" 

*  "  Popularity  "  :  '  Browning's  Works,'  vol.  vi,  p.  192. 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  35 

— stanzas  in  which  the  artificial  form  of  verse  seems 
merely  to  incommode  that  vigour  and  directness,  so 
eminently  characteristic  of  Browning,  both  when  he 
writes  poetry  and  when  he  distorts  prose  into  its 
semblance  and  caricature. 

Take  another  instance  of  this  abuse,  from  Words- 
worth : 

"Yes,  it  was  the  mountain  echo, 
Solitary,  clear,  profound, 
Answering  to  the  shouting  cuckoo 
Giving  to  her  sound  for  sound. 

"  Unsolicited  reply 
To  a  babbling  wanderer  sent ; 
Like  her  ordinary  cry 
Like — but  oh,  how  different !  " 

These  two  stanzas  enchant  the  ear,  and  kindle  the 
mind  to  joyous  receptiveness.  But,  alas  !  the  poet 
continues  much  as  the  genius  of  the  Salvation 
Army  adapts  the  tune  of  a  successful  music-hall 
song  to  other  words. 

"  Hears  nob  also  mortal  life  ? 
Hear  not  we  unthinking-  creatures 
Slaves  of  folly,  love,  and  strife — 
Voices  of  two  different  natures  ? 

"  Have  not  we  too  ? — yes,  we  have 
Answers,  and  we  know  not  whence  ; 
Echoes  from  beyond  the  grave 
Kecognised  intelligence ! 

"  Often  as  thy  inward  ear 
Catches  such  rebounds,  beware  ! — 
Listen,  ponder,  hold  them  dear  ; 
For  of  God, — of  God  they  are."* 
*  '  Poems  of  the  Imagination,'  xxix. 


36  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

And  one  lias  almost  forgotten  that  he  was 
inspired  when  he  set  out.  The  Muse  was  re- 
sponsible for  those  first  delightful  stanzas;  Mr. 
Wordsworth,  philosophical  member  of  the  Church 
of  England,  for  the  three  last,  commendable  in  many 
ways  but  not  as  poetry,  since  all  they  say  might 
have  been  expressed  as  well  or  even  better  in 
prose. 

Emerson  says  : 

"  The  thought,  the  happy  image,  which  expressed  it,  and 
which  was  a  true  experience  to  the  poet,  recurs  to  the  mind, 
and  sends  me  hack  in  search  of  the  hook.  And  I  wish 
that  the  poet  should  foresee  this  habit  of  readers,  and  omit 
all  but  important  passages.  Shakespeare  is  made  up  of 
important  passages,  like  Damascus  steel  made  up  of  old 
nails/'* 

It  would  have  been  much  better  if  Wordsworth 
had  published  his  two  stanzas  and  Browning  his 
two,  and  omitted  the  rest  of  their  poems.  Why 
did  they  not  ? 

Emerson  shall  tell  us : 

"  Great  design  belongs  to  a  poem  and  is  better  than  any 
skill  of  execution,— but  how  rare  !  I  find  it  in  the  poems 
of  Wordsworth,  '  Laodamia '  and  the  '  Ode  to  Dion,' 
and  the  plan  of  '  The  Recluse.'  We  want  design,  and  do 
not  forgive  the  bards  if  they  have  only  the  art  of  enamelling. 
We  want  an  architect  and  they  bring  us  an  upholsterer."t 

It  is  this  demand  that  makes  the  poet  shy  of 
proffering  his  fragment  of  pure  gold,  and  eggs  him 

*  '  Letters  and  Social  Aims  ' :  "  Poetry  and  Imagination,"'  p.  152. 
f  Idem.,  p.  153. 


TEE    BEST    POETRY.  37 

on  to  work  it  into  a  statue  by  adding  clay,  iron,  or 
anything  else  which  he  has  handy. 

That  ode  on  Dion,  which  Emerson  mentions,  set 
out  to  be  the  finest  ode  in  our  language,  and  though 
less  complete,  less  successful  than  several  of  Keats's, 
it  still  retains  some  superiority  over  them.  As  a 
magical  treatment  of  the  tragedy  of  heroism,  it 
stands  beside  Milton's  "  Samson  Agonistes,"  and  the 
scene  of  the  quarrel  between  Brutus  and  Cassius  in 
"  Julius  Caesar."  That  scene  Nietzsche  considered 
the  grandest  in  all  Shakespeare,  on  account  of  the 
importance  and  dignity  of  its  theme ;  and  the  ode 
on  Dion  may  claim  a  similar  advantage  among 
other  odes. 

Wordsworth's  subject  was  not  Dion's  tragedy,  as 
told  by  Plutarch,  but  his  own  sense  of  its  import : 
yet  he  seems  to  have  felt  uneasy  at  not  telling  the 
story,  and  breaks  off  to  paint  a  preliminary  scene ; 
then  the  might  of  his  true  subject  seizes  him  again, 
and  without  ever  completing  the  story  he  rushes 
on  to  his  goal,  the  moral  that  cried  out  of  it  to  him. 
Now  this  moral  is  the  most  important  inference  to 
be  drawn  from  experience,  and  raises  the  question 
about  which  men  will  contend  longest. 

The  facts  necessary  for  the  comprehension  of  the 
poem,  but  not  easily  to  be  deduced  from  reading  it, 
are  that  Dion  Avas  a  finely  gifted  man  and  Plato's 
disciple;  had  been  unjustly  exiled,  and  on  his  return, 
coming  to  the  head  of  affairs,  intended  to  use  power 
ideally,  yet  permitted  the  opponent  of  his  govern- 
ment to  be  illegally  put  to  death ;  was  reproached 
for  this  in  a  vision,  and  soon  after  fell  a  victim  to 
an  assassin's  knife. 


o8  THE    BEST   POBTEY. 

In  reading,  I  will  omit  the  division  of  clay ;  yon 
can  all  decide  whether  I  am  justified  in  so  doing 
when  you  read  the  poem  for  yourselves  at  your 
leisure. 

The  beauty  of  Dion's  character  and  its  relation 
to  that  of  Plato  are  first  compared  to  a  white  swan 
sailing  in  the  lio-ht  of  the  moon. 

"Fair  is  the  swan,  whose  majesty,  prevailing 
O'er  breezeless  water,  on  Locarno's  lake, 
Bears  him  on  while  proudly  sailing 
He  leaves  behind  a  moon-illumined  wake  : 
Behold  !  the  mantling  spirit  of  reserve 
Fashions  his  neck  into  a  goodly  curve ; 
An  arch  thrown  back  between  luxuriant  wings 
Of  whitest  garniture,  like  fir-tree  boughs 
To  which,  on  some  unruffled  morning,  clings 
A  flaky  weight  of  Avinter's  purest  snows! 
— Behold! — as  with  a  gushing  impulse  heaves 
That  downy  prow,  and  softly  cleaves 
The  mirror  of  the  crystal  flood 
Vanish  inverted  hill,  and  shadowy  wood 
And  pendent  rocks,  where'er,  in  gliding  state 
Winds  the  mute  Creature  without  visible  mate 
Or  rival,  save  the  Queen  of  night 
Showering  down  a  silver  light, 
From  heaven,  upon  her  chosen  favourite ! 

"  So  pure,  so  bright,  so  fitted  to  embrace, 
Where  e'er  he  turned,  a  natural  grace 
Of  haughtiness  without  pretence, 
And  to  unfold  a  still  magnificence, 
Was  princely  Dion,  in  the  power 
And  beauty  of  his  happier  hour. 
Nor  less  the  homage  that  was  seen  to  wait 
On  Dion's  virtues,  when  the  lunar  beam 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  39 


Of  Plato's  genius,  from  its  lofty  sphere 
Fell  round  him  in  the  grove  of  Academe, 
Softening  their  inbred  dignity  austere; 
That  he,  not  too  elate 
With  self-sufficing  solitude, 
But  with  majestic  lowliness  endued, 
Might  in  the  universal  bosom  reign, 
And  from  affectionate  observance  gain 
Help,  under  every  change  of  adverse  fate. 


Mourn,  hills  and  gi-oves  of  Attica!  and  mourn 

Illisus,  bending  o'er  thy  classic  urn! 

Mourn,  and  lament  for  him  whose  spirit  dreads 

Your  once  sweet  memory,  studious  walks  and  shades! 

For  him  who  to  divinity  aspired, 

Not  on  the  breath  of  popular  apphiuse, 

But  through  dependence  on  the  sacred  laws 

Framed  in  the  schools  where  Wisdom  dwelt  retired, 

Intent  to  trace  the  ideal  path  of  right 

(More  fair  than   heaven's  broad  causeway  paved  with 

stars) 
Which  Dion  learned  to  measure  with  delight ; 
But  he  hath  overleaped  the  eternal  bars 
And,  following  guides  whose  craft  holds  no  consent; 
With  aught  that  breathes  the  ethereal  element, 
Hath  stained  the  robes  of  civil  power  with  blood, 
Unjustly  shed,  though  for  the  public  good. 
Whence  doubts  that  came  too  late,  and  wishes  vain, 
Hollow  excuses,  and  triumphant  pain  ; 
And  oft  his  cogitations  sink  as  low 
As,  through  the  abysses  of  a  joyless  heart, 
The  heaviest  plummet  of  despair  can  go. 
But  whence  that  sudden  check  ?  that  fearful  start ! 
He  hears  an  uncouth  sound. 
Anon  his  lifted  eyes 
Saw  at  a  long-drawn  gallery's  dusky  bound, 


40  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

A  shape  of  more  than  mortal  size 

And  hideous  aspect,  stalking  round  and  round. 

A  woman's  garb  the  Phantom  wore, 

And  fiercely  swept  the  marble  floor, — 

Like  Auster  whirling  to  and  fro 

His  force  on  Caspian  foam  to  try  ; 

Or  Boreas  when  he  scours  the  snow 

That  skins  the  plains  of  Thessaly, 

Or  when  aloft  on  Maenalus  he  stops 

His  flight,  'mid  eddying  pine-tree  tops  ! 

"  So,  but  from  toil  less  sign  of  profit  reaping, 
The  sullen  Spectre  to  her  purpose  bowed, 
Sweeping — vehemently  sweeping — 
No  pause  admitted,  no  design  avowed  ! 
'  Avaunt,  inexplicable  Guest  !  avaunt,' 
Exclaimed  the  Chieftain — '  Let  me  rather  see 
The  coronal  that  coiling  vipers  make  ; 
The  torch  that  flames  with  many  a  lurid  flake, 
And  the  long  train  of  doleful  pageantry 
Which  they  behold,  whom  vengeful  Furies  haunt  ; 
Who,  while  they  struggle  from  the  scourge  to  flee, 
Move  where  the  blasted  soil  is  not  unworn, 
And,   in    their    anguish,   bear   what    other    minds    have 
born  ! ' 

"  But  Shapes  that  come  not  at  an  earthly  call, 
Will  not  depart  when  mortal  voices  bid ; 
Lords  of  the  visionary'  eye  whose  lid, 
Once  raised,  remains  aghast,  and  will  not  fall ! 
Ye  Gods,  thought  He,  that  servile  implement 
Obeys  a  mystical  intent ! 
Your  minister  would  brush  away 
The  spots  that  to  my  sonl  adhere  ; 
But  should  she  labour  night  and  day, 
They  will  not,  cannot  disappear ; 
Whence  angry  perturbations, — and  that  look 
Which  no  philosophy  can  brook  ! 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  41 

"  Ill-fated  chief  !  there  are  whose  hopes  are  built 
Upon  the  ruins  of  thy  glorious  name  ; 
Who,  through  the  portal  of  one  moment's  guilt, 
Pursue  thee  with  their  deadly  aim  ! 
0  matchless  perfidy  !  portentous  lust 
Of  monstrous  crime  ! — that  horror-striking  blade, 
Drawn  in  defiance  of  the  Gods,  hath  laid 
The  noble  Syracusan  low  in  dust  ! 
Shudder' d  the  walls — the  marble  city  wept — 
And  sylvan  places  heaved  a  pensive  sigh  ; 
But  in  the  calm  peace  the  appointed  Victim  slept, 
As  he  had  fallen  in  magnanimity  ; 
Of  spirit  too  capacious  to  require 
That  Destiny  her  course  should  change  ;  too  just 
To  his  own  native  greatness  to  desire 
That  wretched  boon,  days  lengthened  by  mistrust. 
So  were  the  hopeless  troubles,  that  involved 
The  soul  of  Dion,  instantly  dissolved. 
Released  from  life  and  cares  of  princely  state, 
He  left  this  moral  grafted  on  his  Fate  : 
'Him  only  pleasure  leads,  and  peace  attends, 
Him,  only  him,  the  shield  of  Jove  defends 
Whose  means  are  fair  and  spotless  as  his  ends.'  "* 

What  magnificent  language  and  rhythm  !  Never- 
theless, this  poem,  compared  with  the  Ode  on  the 
Intimations  of  Immortality,  may  be  classed  as 
unknown ;  yet  it  contains  more  and  better  poetry. 

Unfortunately  the  last  three  lines,  if  not  clay,  are 
not  pure  gold  ;  for  it  is  not  true  that  pleasure  leads 
and  peace  attends,  or  that  the  shield  of  Jove  defends 
the  clean-handed  hero,  and  we  notice  something  trite 
in  the  enunciation  of  the  thought.  Wordsworth 
should    have    found    it    obviously    false,    since   he 

*  '  Poems  of  the  Imagination,'  xxxii. 
VOL.    xxxr.  4 


42  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

accepted  Jesus  of  Nazareth  as  the  perfect  type. 
Yet,  means  fair  and  spotless  as  the  end  proposed 
are  ideal  requirements  both  in  art  and  heroism. 
The  contention  that  this  scrupulousness,  the  ideal 
beauty  of  which  is  freely  recognised,  should  control 
business,  is  probably  the  hardest  bone  of  contention 
with  which  humanity  is  provided — the  one  about 
which  every  compromise  of  necessity  begs  the 
question. 

Brutus,  Dion  and  Samson  (who  for  Milton 
represented  Cromwell)  are  such  tragic  figures 
because  the  beauty  of  their  heroism  became  tar- 
nished and  ended  in  failure. 

For  my  fault-finding  with  Wordsworth  I  hope 
you  will  think  I  have  made  amends  ;  I  would  fain  do 
as  much  for  Browning,  but  time  and  capacity  fail 
me  for  reading  his  magnificent  "  Artemis  Prolo- 
guises,"  perhaps  the  most  splendid  120  lines  of  blank 
verse  in  English.  I  will  read  one  of  his  successful 
lyrics  instead. 

Browning  imagines  a  page-boy  in  love  with  a 
queen,  and,  while  tending  her  hounds  and  hawks, 
complaining  of  this  hopeless  passion  and  overheard 
by  her. 

"  Give  her  but  a  least  excuse  to  love  me  ! 
When — where — 

How — can  this  arm  establish  her  above  me, 
If  fortune  fixed  her  as  my  lady  there, 
There  already,  to  eternally  reprove  me  ? 
{'  Hist ! ' — said  Kate  the  Queen  ; 
But  '  oh  ! ' — cried  the  maiden,  binding  her  tresses, 
'  'Tis  only  a  page  that  carols  unseen, 
Crumbling  your  hounds  their  messes  !') 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  43 

"  Is  she  wronged  ? — To  the  rescue  of  her  honour, 
My  heart ! 

Is  she  poor  ? — What  costs  it  to  be  styled  a  donor  ? 
Merely  an  earth  to  cleave,  a  sea  to  part  ? 
But  that  fortune  should  have  thrust  all  this  upon  her  ! 
('  Nay,  list ! ' — bade  Kate  the  Queen ; 
And  still  cried  the  maiden  binding  her  tresses, 
"Tis  only  a  page  that  carols  unseen, 
Fitting  your  hawks  their  jesses  ! ')  "* 

The   turn  of  rhythm  on  "  when — where — how  "   is 
so  felicitous   that  it   seems  madness  for  a  poet  to 
dream  of  adding  another  stanza  which,  as  coining 
second,  should  be  more  perfect. 
Yet  when  we  read — 

"  Is  she  wronged  ? — To  the  rescue  of  her  honour, 
My  heart ! 
Is  she  poor  ? — What  costs  it  to  be  styled  a  donor  ?  " — 

Ave  breathe  free,  and  glory  in  his  triumph. 

Yet  this  song  is  not  in  the  '  Oxford  Book  of  English 
Verse,'  where  under  Browning's  name  several  ob- 
viously inferior  things  appear. 

Ben  Jonson,  like  Browning,  produced  a  mass  of 
work  pregnant  with  intelligence,  but  which  rarely 
became  pure  poetry.  However,  he,  like  Browning, 
yields  a  handful  of  perfect  things.     I  will  read  one  : 

"  See  the  chariot  at  hand  here  of  Love, 
Wherein  my  lady  rideth  ! 
Each  that  draws  is  a  swan  or  a  dove, 
And  well  the  car  Love  guideth. 
As  she  goes,  all  hearts  do  duty 
Unto  her  beauty 

*  "  Pippa  Passes."  Part  II. 


44  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

And,  enamoured,  do  wish,  so  they  might 

But  enjoy  such  a  sight, 

Thar  they  still  were  to  run  by  her  side 

Through  swords,  through  seas,  whither  she  would  ride. 

"  Do  but  look  on  her  eyes,  they  do  light 
All  that  Love's  world  compriseth  ! 

Do  but  look  on  her  hair,  it  is  bright 

As  Love's  star  when  it  riseth  ! 

Do  but  mark,  her  forehead's  smoother 

Than  words  that  soothe  her  ! 

And  fro  til  her  arched  brows,  such  a  grace 

Sheds  itself  through  the  face, 

As  alone  there  triumphs  to  the  life 

All  the  gain,  all  the  good,  of  the  elements'  strife. 

"Have  you  seen  but  a  bright  lily  grow, 
Before  rude  hands  have  touched  it  ? 
Have  you  marked  but  the  fall  o'  the  snow 
Before  the  soil  hath  smutched  it  ? 
Have  you  felt  the  wool  of  beaver  ? 
Or  swan's  down  ever  ? 
Or  have  smelt  o'  the  bud  o'  the  brier  ? 
Or  the  nard  in  the  fire  ? 
Or  have  tasted  the  bag  of  the  bee  ? 
0  so  white  !  0  so  soft !  0  so  sweet  is  she  !  "* 

Palgrave  failed  to  observe  the  marvellous  perfec- 
tion of  this  song.  It  is  not  in  his  '  Golden  Treasury,* 
which  yet  contains  so  much  poor  stuff.  It  is  by  such 
felicities  as  the  climax — 

0  so  white  !  0  so  soft !  0  so  sweet  is  she  ! — 
that  the  form  of  every  lyric  should  be  a  discovery. 

*  "  Underwoods,"  iv. 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  45 

The  surprise  of  this  kind  that  seems  to  have 
fallen  most  directly  out  of  heaven  is  the  line — 

"  Sad  true  lover  never  find  my  grave  " — 

from  the  dirge  in  "  Twelfth  Night." 

"  Come  away,  come  away,  death, 
And  in  sad  cypress  let  me  be  laid. 
Fly  away,  fly  away,  breath ; 
I  am  slain  by  a  fair  cruel  maid. 
My  shroud  of  white,  stuck  all  with  yew, 
Oh,  prepare  it ! 

My  part  of  death,  no  one  so  true 
Did  share  it. 

Not  a  flower,  not  a  flower  sweet, 

On  my  black  coffin  let  there  be  strown  ; 

Not  a  friend,  not  a  friend  greet 

My  poor  corpse,  where  my  bones  shall  be  thrown : 

A  thousand  thousand  sighs  to  save 

Lay  me,  Oh,  where 

Sad  true  lover  never  find  my  grave 

To  weep  there!" 

The  difficulty  of  accounting  for  the  scansion  of 
that  disquieted  Shakesperean  editors  for  upwards  of 
two  hundred  years,  till  at  last  it  was  observed  that 
the  irregularity  was  exceedingly  beautiful.  So 
easily  is  the  goal  of  aesthetic  research  obscured  even 
for  men  as  intelligent  as  Pope  or  Capel. 

Now,  for  fear  of  enervating  our  taste  by  an  over- 
constant  effort  to  appreciate  what  is  perfect,  let  us 
compare  a  stanza  from  the  great  lyric  in  Matthew 
Arnold's  "  Empedocles,"  and  one  from  Browning's 
much-vaunted  "  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra,"  with  one  from 
Shelley's  "  To  a  Skylark." 


46  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

"In  vain  our  pent  wills  fret, 
And  would  the  world  subdue; 
Limits  we  did  not  set 
Condition  all  we  do; 
Born  into  life  we  are,  and  life  must  be  our  mould." 

Undoubtedly  that  is  a  true  thought,  and  expressed 
with  more  cogency  and  clearness  than — 

"Grow  old  along  with  me! 
The  best  is  yet  to  be 

The  last  of  life  for  which  the  first  was  made: 
Our  times  are  in  His  hand 
Who  saith,  'A  whole  I  planned/ 
Youth  shows  but  half;  trust  God;  see  all  nor  be  afraid." 

It  is  obviously  more  often  than  not  impossible  to 
obey  the  command  to  grow  old  along  with  any  genial 
old  gentleman  ;  it  is  often,  also,  untrue  that  the  best 
is  yet  to  be.  No  doubt,  it  would  be  very  consoling 
if  experience  bore  out  the  old  Rabbi :  but  it  does 
not. 

Now  listen  to  Shelley,  for  the  desired,  the  en- 
chanting, the  ever-acceptable  accent  which  creates 
beauty  and  joy  even  out  of  depression  : 

"  We  look  before  and  after 
And  pine  for  what  is  not : 
Our  sincerest  laughter 
With  some  pain  is  fraught  ; 

Our  sweetest  songs  ai-e  those  that  tell  of  saddest 
thought." 

True.  "  To  a  Skylark "  treats  continually  of 
lovely  and  agreeable  things,  but  so  does  Rabbi  Ben 
Ezra ;  he   compares  passionate   youth   with   serene 


THE    BEST    rOETEY.  47 

old  age,  and,  refurbishing  the  hackneyed  image  of 
the  potter  and  the  clay,  substitutes  for  the  non- 
descript "  vessel,"  a  Grecian  urn.  Yet  with  all  these 
opportunities  he  never  turns  a  single  stanza  so 
beautiful  as  the  most  abstract  of  Shelley's. 

The  fact  is,  Browning  represents  Rabbi  Ben 
Ezra  as  a  prosperous  old  man  enjoying  a  stately 
decline,  who  allows  his  after-dinner  optimism  to 
get  the  better  of  his  observation  and  experience. 
He  is  moved  by  thought,  but  less  conscious  of 
its  truth  or  beauty  than  of  its  supposed  efficacy 
for  cheering,  that  is  bamboozling :  and  this  pur- 
pose of  his  cannot  beget  afflatus  sufficient  to 
rise  to  a  fine  form  and  movement,  so  his  utterance  is 
outclassed  not  only  by  Shelley's,  which  is  beautiful, 
but  by  Arnold's,  which,  though  plain,  is  sincere. 

I  mentioned  that  some  of  the  best  poetry  has  been 
honestly  charged  with  immorality.  Such  accusa- 
tions are  usually  made  by  people  who  regard  the 
fact  that  poets  can  and  often  do  preach  excellent 
sermons  as  the  only  excuse  for  verse.  Now  to 
elucidate  this  difficulty  we  must  conceive  of  English 
morality  as  something  dependent  on  the  customs 
and  habits  of  the  English,  not  as  an  absolute 
criterion  of  worth.  In  practical  life  it  is  a  mistake 
to  run  counter  to  one's  neighbours  without  a  weighty 
reason  without  being  prepared  to  suffer  as  a 
consequence. 

But  in  the  realm  of  contemplation,  whither 
poetry  should  lift  us,  morality,  instead  of  being 
established,  is  a  project. 

There,  if  it  is  not  to  prove  futile,  neither  deed  nor 
doer  must   be    left    unconsidered,   but    the    whole 


48  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

reality  must  be  harmoniously  reviewed.  For  this 
reason  we  should  welcome  all  who  can  give  fine 
literary  form  to  auy  accident,  however  inconvenient 
that  accident  may  be  in  a  mundane  sphere.  An 
unpalatable  truth  thus  becomes  associated  with 
beauty  —  an  object  for  contemplation,  yielding 
refreshment  and  recreation. 

"  It  is  all  very  well  in  a  book,"  as  people  say  of 
extravagant  behaviour,  implying  that  in  practice  it 
is  less  pardonable  ;  and  what  they  say  is  quite  true. 
Only  their  tone  of  voice  may  be  disparaging  to 
literature  and  betray  the  penury  of  their  taste. 

A  consequence  of  this  more  comprehensive  horizon 
which  poetry  demands  is  that  a  poem  must  not  only 
be  enthralling  by  beauty  and  intensity,  but,  if  it  be 
of  any  length,  by  its  interest. 

Rossetti  rightly  queried  whether  a  long  poem  ought 
not  to  be  as  absorbing  as  a  novel.  It  ought.  A 
novel  need  only  fail  of  being  a  poem  by  that  degree 
of  beauty  which  formal  rhythms  have  over  informal. 
Most  novels  do  fail  in  many  other  ways,  but  many 
long  poems  fail  just  where  good  novels  succeed.  It 
is  in  vital  interest  that  Shakespeare's  "  Macbeth," 
"Lear,"  "Hamlet"  and  "Othello"  are  so  superior 
to  "  Paradise  Lost,"  though  that  poem  perhaps 
maintains  a  higher  level  of  beauty  than  they  do. 

The  "  Ancient  Mariner  "  is  for  the  same  reason  a 
finer  poem  than  any  of  equal  length  since  written. 
For  though  "  Enoch  Arden  "  and  "  The  Ring  and 
the  Book  "  are  as  interesting  as  novels,  they  fail 
like  novels  also,  the  one  by  lack  of  the  distinction 
that  utter  sincerity  srives,  the  other  by  lack  of  the 
restraint  that  the  love  of  beauty  dictates.     Keats's 


THE    BEST    POETEY.  49 

"  Lamia,"  Arnold's  "  Empedocles,"  though  less  ab- 
sorbing, more  nearly  marry  a  considerable  interest  to 
a  proportionate  beauty.  And  for  the  same  reason 
Mr.  Yeats' s  verse  dramas  succeed  better  than  any  of 
those  by  the  Victorian  poets ;  though  several,  like 
Browning's  "  Strafford,"  are  more  powerful,  or  like 
Swinburne's  "  Atalanta,"  more  original,  or  like 
Tennyson's  "  The  Cup,"  more  theatrical. 

We,  like  the  folk  of  many  previous  ages,  have  it 
dinned  into  our  ears  that  poetry,  to  be  great,  must 
treat  of  actual  pre-occupations,  and  not  harp  on  any 
which  are  as  notably  neglected  as  was  the  ideal  of 
justice  in  Dante's  day.  Well,  well,  let  us  allow 
that  the  best  kind  of  people  at  present  discuss  plans 
for  mitigating  the  evils  of  social  inequality.  How 
does  the  best  poetry  treat  this  problem  ? 

Not  in  Lloyd  George's  way,  nor  yet  like  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Webb,  nor  even  like  Bernard  Shaw.  Their 
ways  are,  of  course,  aimed  at  and  achieve  a  different 
kind  of  success.  But  do  they  as  grandly  allay  our 
passions  and  restore  us  to  as  propitious  a  frame  of 
mind  ? 

The  opinions  of  Byron  and  Shelley  took  their  cue 
from  the  advanced  political  thinkers  of  that  day, 
but  failed  to  inspire  their  loftiest  verse.  Such 
themes  as  personal  guilt,  and  loneliness  or  some 
woman,  some  cloud,  a  skylark  or  the  healing  power 
of  night  inspired  their  happiest  flights.  They 
chanted  freedom,  indeed,  but  are  outclassed  by 
reactionary  Wordsworth  on  this  theme :  while  a 
poet,  never  praised  for  thought,  conceived  this 
problem  in  very  lovely  verse,  almost  as  we  realise 
it  to-day. 


50  THE    BEST   POETRY. 

"  With  her  two  brothers  this  fair  lady  dwelt 
Knriched  from  ancestral  merchandize, 
And  for  them  many  a  weary  hand  did  swelt 
In  torched  mines  and  noisy  factories, 
And  many  once  proud-quivered  loins  did  melt 
In  blood  from  stinging-  whips; — with  hollow  eyes 
Many  all  day  in  dazzling-  river  stood, 
To  take  the  rich-or'd  driftings  of  the  flood. 

"For  them  the  Ceylon  diver  held  his  breath, 
And  went  all  naked  to  the  hungry  shark; 
For  them  his  ears  gashed  blood;  for  them  in  death 
The  seal  on  the  cold  ice  with  piteous  bark 
Lay  fall  of  darts;  for  them  alone  did  seethe 
A  thousand  men  in  troubles  wide  and  dark: 
Half-ignorant,  they  turned  an  easy  wheel, 
That  set  sharp  racks  at  work,  to  pinch  and  peel. 

'•Why  were  they  proud?     Because  their  marble  founts 
Gushed  with  more  pride  than  do  a  wretch's  tears  ? — 
Why  were  they  proud?     Because  fair  orange-mounts 
Were  of  more  soft  ascent  than  lazar  stairs? — 
Why  were  they  proud?     Because  red-lined  accounts 
Were  richer  than  the  songs  of  Grecian  years? — 
Why  were  they  proud?  again  we  ask  aloud, 
Why  in  the  name  of  Glory  were  they  proud  ?" 

That  question  is  so  much  more  winsome  than  an 
accusation.  What  have  we,  any  of  us,  added  to 
favouring  circumstance  to  warrant  pride  ?  Asked 
not  in  the  name  of  justice,  but  of  Glory.  How 
universal  the  difficulty  of  a  reply  appears  !  To  rail 
at  tyrants  is  by  comparison  as  though,  when  a  little 
girl  was  naughty,  we  should  scold  her  dolls;  for 
kings  and  governors  are  only  the  "to}Ts  of  that  lust 
for  possessing  which  makes  us  all,  rich  and  poor 
alike,  so  negligent  of  nobler  things. 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  51 

Though  the  first  line  of  "  Endymion  "  has  become 
a  proverb  and  already  smells  musty,  serious  people 
have  not  acquired  the  habit  of  looking  for  truth  in 
beauty,  where  the  nearest  approach  to  it  can  be 
made.  They  expect  and  recommend  precisely  the 
opposite  course,  and  approved  Lord  Tennyson, 
when  in  "Locksley  Hall  Sixty  Years  After,"  he 
set  the  turbid  accusations  of  Carlyle  and  Ruskin  to 
tuneful  numbers,  although  he  failed  of  Keats's 
success.  Whereas  a  living  poet,  never  mentioned 
by  those  who  plume  themselves  on  pre-occupation 
with  these  problems  has,  I  think,  surpassed  those 
slightly  rhetorical  stanzas  in  Keats's  "  Pot  of  Basil," 
which  had  remained  the  high-water  mark  of  expres- 
sion on  this  theme. 

THE  STATUES. 

"  Tarry  a  moment,  happy  feet 
That  to  the  sound  of  laughter  glide  ! 
0  glad  ones  of  the  evening  street, 
Behold  what  forms  are  at  your  side  ! 

"  You  conquerors  of  the  toilsome  day 
Pass  by  with  laughter,  labour  done; 
But  these  within  their  dui-ance  stay  ; 
Their  travail  sleeps  not  with  the  sun. 

"  They  like  dim  statues  without  end, 
Their  patient  attitudes  maintain  ; 
Your  triumphing  bright  course  attend, 
But  from  your  eager  ways  abstain. 

"  Now,  if  you  chafe  in  secret  thought, 
A  moment  turn  from  light  distress, 
And  see  how  Fate  on  these  have  wrought, 
Who  yet  so  deeply  acquiesce. 


52  THE    BEST    POETRY. 

"  Behold  fchem,  stricken,  silent,  weak, 
The  maimed,  the  mute,  the  halt,  the  blind, 
Condemned  in  hopeless  hope  to  seek 
The  thing  which  they  shall  never  find. 

"  They  haunt  the  shadows  of  your  ways 
In  masks  of  perishable  mould  : 
Their  souls  a  changing  flesh  arrays, 
But  they  are  changeless  from  of  old. 

"  Their  lips  repeat  an  empty  call, 
But  silence  wraps  their  thoughts  around. 
On  them,  like  snow,  the  ages  fall ; 
Time  muffles  all  this  transient  sound. 

"  When  Shalmaneser  pitched  his  tent 
By  Tigris,  and  his  flag  unfurled, 
And  forth  his  summons  proudly  sent 
Into  the  new  unconquered  world  ; 

"  Or  when  with  spears  Cambyses  rode 
Through  Memphis  and  her  bending  slaves, 
Or  first  the  Tyrian  gazed  abroad 
Upon  the  bright  vast  outer  waves ; 

"  When  sages,  star-instructed  men, 
To  the  young  glory  of  Babylon 
Foreknew  no  ending  ;  even  then 
Innumerable  years  had  flown, 

"  Since  first  the  chisel  in  her  hand 
Necessity,  the  sculptor,  took, 
And  in  her  spacious  meaning  planned 
These  forms,  and  that  eternal  look  ; 

"  These  foreheads,  moulded  from  afar, 
These  soft,  unfathomable  eyes,  " 
Gazing  from  darkness,  like  a  star ; 
These  lips,  whose  grief  is  to  be  wise. 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  53 

"As  from  the  mountain  marble  rude 
The  growing-  statue  rises  fair, 
She  from  immortal  patience  hewed 
The  limbs  of  ever-young  despair. 

"  There  is  no  bliss  so  new  and  dear, 
It  hath  not  them  far-off  allured. 
All  things  that  we  have  yet  to  fear 
They  have  already  long  endured. 

"  Nor  is  there  any  sorrow  more 
Than  hath  ere  now  befallen  these, 
Whose  gaze  is  as  an  opening  door 
On  wild  interminable  seas. 

"  0  Youth,  run  fast  upon  thy  feet, 
With  full  joy  haste  thee  to  be  filled, 
And  out  of  moments  brief  and  sweet 
Thou  shalt  a  power  for  ages  build. 

"Does  thy  heart  falter  ?     Here,  then,  seek 
What  strength  is  in  thy  kind  !      With  pain 
Immortal  bowed,  these  mortals  weak 
Gentle  and  unsubdued  remain." 

That  I  think  is  first-rate  poetry.  It  does  not 
attribute  to  human  agency  what  possibly  lies  beyond 
its  scope,  in  order  either  to  praise  or  blame.  It 
recognises  that  some  virtues  are  almost  always  the 
work  of  adversity,  others  of  prosperity;  some 
proper  to  youth  and  health,  others  to  age  and 
suffering ;  and  it  is  thus  considerate  while  rapt  in  an 
ecstasy  of  contemplation  such  as  can  but  clothe 
itself  in  delightful  phrases  and  felicitous  images. 

To  my  mind  the  stanza  about  aged  stricken  folk 
is  the  finest : 


0-4  THE    BEST   POETRY. 

"  There  is  no  bliss  so  new  and  dear. 
It  liath  not  them  tar-off  allured. 
All  things  that  we  have  yet  to  fear, 
They  have  already  long  endured"  — 

while  above  all  the  others  I  prize  the  two  lines — 

"  She  from  immortal  patience  hewed 
The  limbs  of  ever-young  despair." 

Yet  while  I  thus  distinguish,  I  reprove  myself  for 
separating  them  from  the  wave  of  five  stanzas,  of 
which  they  form  the  crest : 

"  Since  first  the  chisel  in  her  hand 
Necessity,  the  sculptor,  took, 
And  in  her  spacious  meaning  planned 
These  forms,  and  that  eternal  look; 

"  These  foreheads,  moulded  from  afar, 
These  soft,  unfathomable  eyes, 
Gazing  from  darkness,  like  a  star  ; 
These  lips,  whose  grief  is  to  be  wise. 

"  As  from  the  mountain  marble  rude 
The  growing  statue  rises  fair, 
She  from  immortal  patience  hewed 
The  limbs  of  ever-young  despair. 

"There  is  no  bliss  so  new  and  dear, 
It  hath  not  them  far-off  allured. 
All  things  that  we  have  yet  to  fear 
They  have  already  long  endured. 

"  Nor  is  there  any  sorrow  more 
Than  hath  ere  now  befallen  these, 
Whose  gaze  is  as  an  opening  door 
On  wild  interminable  seas." 

That  I  think  is  more  successful  poetry  than  any 


THE    BEST    POETRY.  OD 

in  Browning's  "  Rabbi  Ben  Ezra  "  or  in  Tennyson's 
"  Locksley  Hall "  ;  nay,  more  successful  than  any 
produced  by  those  great  poets  after  the  first  glorious 
flush  had  paled  on  the  forehead  of  their  youthful 
genius.     Is  it  not  well  described  b}^  Shelley's  line — 

"  Our  sweetest  songs  are  those  which  tell  of  saddest 
thought  "  ? 

It  is  the  work  of  Laurence  Binyon,  and  published 
in  his  'London  Visions.' 

Now  these  are  merely  my  opinions,  and  should 
not  be  adopted  by  you :  nor  need  they  ever  become 
yours,  unless  your  progress  towards  the  distant  goal 
of  a  perfect  appreciation  of  excellence  should  happen 
to  lead  you  over  the  very  same  spot  where  I  now 
stand. 

Each  one  of  you  is  a  traveller  over  these  delectable 
mountains,  and  not  what  has  delighted  me  or  any 
other  pilgrim  brings  you  on  your  way  and  holds  off 
fatigue  and  depression,  but  what  delights  you. 
Only  be  occupied  and  ever  anew  eager  in  arranging 
what  you  admire  by  order  of  merit.  Examine  your 
preferences,  do  not  rest  content  with  enjoying  them, 
and  you  will  grow  aware  of  niceties  and  differences 
in  what  is  admirable  that  otherwise  would  have 
escaped  your  notice.  You  will  invigorate  and  render 
rational  what  may  have  seemed  the  truly  mystical 
fascination  which  verse  exerted  over  you. 

Let  me  warn  you  against  negative  standards. 
Never  record  your  impressions  by  enumerating 
faults,  as  the  newspaper  critic  so  often  does.  Never 
accept  the  absence  of  apparent  flaws  as  proof  of  the 
presence  of  excellence.     Keep  to  the  positive  merits 


56  THE    BEST   POETRY. 

mikI  try  to  define  tlieni;  merely  turn  away  from  what 
calls  for  blame.  Disparaging  warps  the  mind  far 
worse  than  over-lauding.  Above  all,  institute  com- 
parisons  whenever  you  find  two  poets,  treating  the 
same  theme  or  using  the  same  form  with  felicity  to 
diverse  effect,  or  in  any  way  rivalling  one  another. 
Animals  see,  breathe  and  feel,  man  alone  discovers, 
appreciates  and  admires;  it  is  not  enough  to  passively 
enjoy ;   we  must  create  order  in  our  experiences. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL 
LITERATURE. 

BY    JOSEPH    OFFORD, 

Menibre    de  l'Association   pour  l'Encouragement   des    Etudes 
Grecques  and  of  the  Associazione  Avcheologica  Romana. 

[  Read  April  24th,  1912.] 

In  the  year  1892  I  had  the  honour  of  bringing 
before  the  Royal  Society  of  Literature  the  sub- 
ject of  the  discoveries  of  remains  of  ancient  classical 
literature,  summarising  very  inadequately,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  those  recovered  works  which  I  deemed  the 
most  important  since  the  completion  of  the  achieve- 
ments of  Cardinal  Mai  and  his  successors  in  decipher- 
ing the  palimpsest  manuscripts  in  European  libraries. 

The  portions  of  lost  books  I  was  able  to  enumerate 
at  that  time  were  very  considerable  both  in  number 
and  contents,  especially  those  found  upon  papyri 
preserved  in  almost  rainless  Egypt,  and  it  was  not 
then  thought  probable  that  in  future  the  harvest 
would  annually  be  equally  prolific.  But  the  yearly 
average  of  newly  published  texts,  most  of  them,  it 
must  be  admitted,  mere  fragments,  has  not  dimi- 
nished, nor  does  it  appear  to  be  likely  to  do  so  for 
some  time  to  come.  Moreover,  although  many 
of  the  pieces  edited  are  so  short,  they  often  pos- 
sess an  importance  quite  disproportionate  to  their 
length. 

vol.  xxxr.  5 


53     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

It  should  be  mentioned  that  the  continuance  for 
a  time  of  further  new  publications  now,  arises  more 
from  the  immense  quantity  of  papyri  already  in 
Europe  that  are  not  yet  sufficiently  examined  by 
specialists  rather  than  from  new  finds  occurring  as 
frequently  as  formerly  was  the  case.  In  fact  the 
discovery  of  papyri  in  Egypt  has  seriously  dimi- 
nished in  volume.  The  extension  of  artificial 
irrigation  and  of  the  area  of  cultivated  land,  and 
the  flooding  of  large  tracts  by  the  further  raising 
of  the  Assouan  Barrage,  will  tend  still  further  to 
reduce  the  possibility  of  rescuing  many  more  precious 
literary  relics  from  oblivion.  This  short  paper 
may  therefore  prove  to  be  a  sort  of  summing  up  on 
behalf  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Literature  of  the 
most  remarkable  epoch  in  the  story  of  classical 
literature,  since,  at  the  Renaissance,  the  Humanist 
search  for,  and  editing  of,  many  Greek  and  Latin 
manuscripts  some  three  centuries  ago. 

As  this  hurried  review  of  the  matter,  for  reasons 
of  time  and  space,  must  necessarily  be  confined  to 
the  consideration  of  texts  of  the  classics  hitherto 
unknown,  it  cannot  include  a  survey  of  the  many 
new  manuscripts  of  portions  of  authors  previously 
extant.  It  is  well,  however,  to  allude  here  to  their 
value  because  of  the  information  they  afford  as  to 
the  purity  of  the  text  of  the  versions  we  possessed 
previous  to  the  recent  discoveries. 

This  is  very  great,  because  it  almost  universally 
tends  to  confirm  the  comparative  accuracy  of  the 
texts  as  preserved  in  the  codices  that  fortunately 
escaped  destruction  in  the  "  dark  ages."  Now,  we 
can  at  least  say  that  in  the  case  of  all  those  pre- 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      59 

viousry  extant  authors  of  which  it  is  possible  to  com- 
pare with  duplicate  newly  found  editions  which  we 
know  for  certain  date  either  early  before,  or  shortly 
subsequent  to  our  era,  that  the  versions  we  have 
had  in  use  since  the  revival  of  learning  differ,  though 
later  in  date,  but  slightly  from  those  held  to  be 
correct  2000  years  ago. 

Any  vague  dread  among  certain  scholars  that  the 
well-known  classics  may,  in  some  cases,  have  been 
forgeries  of  lost  books  written  to  satisfy  Roman 
book  collectors  cannot  now  oppress  even  the  most 
sceptical  mind. 

The  works  considered  as  authoritative  specimens 
of  their  alleged  authors  in  Alexandria,  the  greatest 
seat  of  literary  activity  of  antiquity,  are,  for  all 
intents  and  purposes,  identical  with  those — few 
of  them,  alas!  —  we  have  been  perusing  and  en- 
joying. 

Turning  now  to  our  subject  proper,  it  will  be 
convenient  to  divide  it  into  two  portions,  those  of 
Greek  and  of  Latin  authors,  instead  of  treating  of 
the  new  manuscripts  upon  any  system  derived  from 
the  date  of  their  discovery. 

As  the  Patristic,  or  early  Christian  literature, 
cannot  be  discussed  on  this  occasion,  but  few 
references  to  Syriac,  Coptic  or  Arab  texts  need  be 
made. 

Finally,  in  composing  the  paper  I  decided  to 
dwell  somewhat  fully  upon  the  more  important 
and  interesting  pieces  of  ancient  literature  whose 
restoration  to  science  I  have  to  mention,  devoting 
only  a  short  time  and  space  to  many  of  the  minor 
pieces,  whose  value  in  themselves  separately  is  small, 


60     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

though  cumulatively  as  a  subject  of  literary  history 
very  considerable. 

A  very  valuable  relic  of  the  classics  worthy  to  rank 
with  most  of  the  other  recoveries  is  that  of  the  lost 
*  Apology '  of  Antiphon,  the  Attic  orator,  who 
formed  one  anions;  the  famous  four  hundred 
Oligarchs  who,  in  B.C.  411,  overthrew,  temporarily, 
the    democratic  Athenian  Constitution. 

Antiphon  was  charged  with  treason  because  he 
happened  to  be  one  of  twelve  delegates  dispatched 
by  the  Oligarchs  to  endeavour  to  treat  with  the 
Lacedemonians.  An  additional  count  in  the  indict- 
ment against  him  was  that  of  having  helped  to 
destroy  the  constitution.  Thucydides  tells  us  that 
the  speech  he  delivered  in  his  own  defence  was  the 
finest  of  its  type  ever  pronounced,  and  this  admira- 
tion is  confirmed  by  the  statement  of  other  classics. 
It  did  not,  however,  prevent  Antiphon's  condemna- 
tion and  execution. 

Being  held  in  such  esteem  it  was  doubtless  pla- 
giarised and  imitated  by  subsequent  orators  when 
arraigned  for  political  misdemeanours,  and  so,  un- 
known to  us,  much  of  its  phraseology  and  arguments 
may  be  imbedded  in  later  speeches ;  but  practically 
it  has  hitherto  been  completely  lost,  excepting  for 
excerpts  and  sentences  used  for  illustration  by 
grammarians  and  lexicographers. 

Among  some  papyri  obtained  by  M.  Nicolle,  of 
Geneva,  about  1906,  for  the  museum  of  that  city, 
were  fragments  of  a  manuscript  which  contained  four 
portions  of  the  '  Apology '  of  *  Antiphon,  most 
elegantly  written,  evidently  being  an  example  of  a 
"  texte  cle  luxe" 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     61 

The  four  preserved  pieces  are  of  unequal  length, 
and  apparently  separated  a  good  deal  from  each 
other  in  the  speech.* 

Thus  several  columns  of  writing  are  evidently 
from  the  argument,  whilst  others  appertain  to  the 
exposition  of  facts,  and  some  columns  to  the  per- 
oration. This  accidental  arrangement  of  the 
newly  found  portion  of  the  text  is,  supposing  that 
this  is  all  of  the  '  Apology '  ever  to  come  to  light, 
rather  advantageous,  for  the  fourfold  extracts  afford 
a  better  view  of  the  general  plan  of  the  discourse 
than  a  continuous  piece  of  equal  length  would  have 
done. 

We  can  now  follow  not  only  the  plan  upon  which 
Antiphon  founded  his  defence,  but  also  the  role  which 
he  explains  he  fulfilled  as  chief  of  his  party,  and 
also  how  he  conducted  himself  as  an  improvised 
administrator  in  the  great  crisis  in  which  he  became 
involved.  In  the  speech  we  see  him  suddenly  taking 
the  offensive  against  his  accusers,  and  when,  accor- 
ding to  custom,  the  moment  had  arrived  for  appealing 
to  the  compassion  of  his  judges,  he  alludes  to  his 
family,  his  children  and  grandchildren  as  interceding 
for  him. 

The  most  lengthy  fragment  fortunately  discloses 
to  us  the  position  thought  best  for  taking  up  by  an 
Athenian  orator — and  perhaps  an  immature  states- 
man— in  face  of  a  terrible  accusation  levelled 
against  himself.  He  not  merely  denies  participating 
in  the  overthrow  of  the  democracy,  but  says  he 
never  dreamt  of,  or  desired,  it.     He  alleges  that  he 

*  "  L'Apologie  d'Antiphon,"  '  d'Apres  des  fragments  inedits  sur 
papyrus  d'Egypte,'  par  Jules  Nicole,  Geneve,  1907. 


62     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

joined  the  Oligarchy  by  force  of  circumstances,  and 
that  these  only  in  the  matter  had  determined  his 
conduct.  His  endeavour  was  to  prove  that  his  sole 
guide  was  patriotism,  never  ambition,  and  still  less 
private  interest,  and  that  had  he  consulted  himself 
no  one  would  have  more  ardently  maintained  the 
democratic  constitution. 

It  is  evident  that  it  was  the  weight  and  eloquence 
with  which  he  develops  this  portion  of  his  '  Apology  ' 
that  caused  later  speakers  under  similar  critical 
circumstances  to  envy  his  great  forensic  effort  and 
to  repeat  his  theme  and  words.  It  is  possible  that 
Antiphon  had  but  the  morrow  of  his  indictment  in 
which  to  prepare  his  defence.  Moreover,  the 
accusation,  as  stated,  was  amended  by  the  addition 
of  the  crime  of  treason,  and  he  had,  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  to  repel  the  attack  of  his  foes,  of  whose 
line  of  assault  he  had  had  no  previous  warning. 

Also  he  had  to  suit  his  audience,  and  conse- 
quently may  have  changed  in  his  speech  the  verbal 
form  he  had  selected  for  many  parts  of  it. 

The  literary  perfection  of  his  '  Apology  '  appears 
to  show  that  between  the  actual  deliverance  of  it 
and  the  condemnation  and  execution  of  the  sentence 
Antiphon  was  able  to  edit  the  matter  so  as  to  prepare 
it  for  publication.  Before  he  drank  the  deadly 
draught  his  last  hours  may  have  been  occupied  in 
revising  the  lines,  which  now,  after  the  lapse  of 
many  centuries,  can  be  perused  once  more.  The 
very  thought  of  such  a  possibility  makes  the  reading 
of  these  sentences,  composed  so  long  ago,  a  matter 
of  emotion.  They  have  now  been  returned  to  man- 
kind  never  to   be   lost  again.     In  addition  to  the 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      63 

importance  of  the  '  Apology  '  as  the  work  of  this 
statesman  and  orator  the  historical  allusions  con- 
tained in  the  arguments  are  very  interesting.*  The 
illustrious  names  of  parties  principal  to  the  revolu- 
tion appear,  such  as  Pisander,  Phrynichus,  and 
Theramenes,  and  light  is  thrown  upon  affairs  at  the 
crisis. 

Almost  all  the  records  of  newly-found  classic 
literature  are  results  of  the  recovery  of  texts  upon 
Egyptian  papyri.  One  remarkable  manuscript, 
however,  quite  equal  in  value  to  most  of  those  from 
Egypt,  is  that  of  a  collection  of  several  of  the  works 
of  Archimedes  ;  for  in  addition  to  giving  us  new 
texts  of  several  of  his  already  extant  works,  it  not 
only  presents  the  Greek  of  the  Uspldyovfiti'div,  hitherto 
only  known  from  a  Latin  version,  but  gives  us  a 
work  of  this  great  mathematician  that  is  entirely 
new,  the  'Eqo&kuv. 

The  title  of  this  treatise  is  '  Geometrical  Solu- 
tions derived  from  Mechanics,'  and  its  importance 
is  augmented  by  an  introductory  letter  to  the  work 
addressed  to  Eratosthenes.  The  manuscript  is  a 
palimpsest  of  some  118  pages,  and  was  first  noticed 
by  M.  Papadopoulos  Kerameus,  and  has  been 
edited  by  Dr.  L.  J.  Heiberg,  and  translated  into 
English  by  Miss  Lydia  G.  Robinson  from  Heiberg's 
German  version. f  Although  it  was  previously  known 

*  M.  T.  Reinacb  points  out  a  curious  sentence  in  the  speech  ;  the 
following  reproach  to  which  the  orator  alludes  indicating  that  some 
advocates  paid  a  percentage ;  in  this  case  one-fifth  of  the  cost  of  the 
litigation.       'a\\a  fiiv  St)   Xiyovaiv   o»  Karrjyopoi  d>s  rrvviypaQuv   n    SiicaQ 

aXXoig  Kal  [r]d  I  LicepSaivov  'anb  tovtov.  '  Rev.  des  Etudes  Grecqiies,' 
22-55. 

t  M.  Theodore  Reinach  also  published  a  translation  of  the  work 
in  '  Revue  Generale  des  Sciences,'  of  November  30th,  1907. 


64     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

that  Archimedes  studied  at  Alexandria,  and  that 
Eratosthenes  was  a  contemporary  in  date,  though 
Tzetzes  says  twelve  years  the  junior  of  the  Sicilian, 
yet  we  were  unaware  that  the  two  great  scientists 
were  actually  acquainted. 

They  were,  it  woidd  appear,  long  friends,  or 
correspondents,  for  in  the  newly  found  treatise 
Archimedes  speaks  of  having  forwarded  some  pre- 
liminary propositions  on  the  same  subject  some  time 
ago.  He  also  alludes  to  one  of  his  earlier  works, 
1  De  lineis  spiralibus,'  which  Archimedes  dedicated 
to  Dositheos  of  Kolonos.  In  this  tract  he  had 
mentioned  a  still  earlier  composed  treatise  he  had 
sent  to  Konon,  and  so  the  work  specially  composed 
for  Eratosthenes  was  the  product  of  the  later  years 
of  Archimedes. 

The  older  scholar  held  the  chief  librarian  of 
Alexandria  evidently  in  high  esteem,  for  he  writes  of 
him  as  a  "  capable  scholar  and  prominent  teacher  of 
philosophy,"  and  says  that  "  he  knows  how  to  value 
a  mathematical  method  of  investigation  when  oppor- 
tunity offers." 

The  really  extraordinary  fact  revealed  by  the 
new  manuscript  is  the  absolute  modernity  of  the 
sentiment  of  Archimedes,  the  introduction  being 
phrased  in  just  the  kind  of  way  in  which  we 
could  imagine  a  mathematician  of  to-day  such  as 
the  late  Lord  Kelvin  writing  to  a  brother  scien- 
tist. 

So  striking  is  this  similarity  of  expression  that 
we  cannot  do  better  than  quote  the  paragraph  con- 
taining the  appeal  to  Eratosthenes. 

After  the  sentence  giving  his  appreciation  of  his 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.       65 

erudition  and  acumen,  already  quoted,  Archimedes 
writes  : 

"  I  have  thought  it  well  to  analyze  and  lay  down  for  you 
in  this  same  book  a  peculiar  method  by  means  of  which  it 
will  be  possible  for  you  to  derive  instruction  as  to  how 
certain  mathematical  questions  may  be  investigated  by 
means  of  mechanics;  and  I  am  convinced  that  this  is 
equally  profitable  in  demonstrating  a  proposition  itself,  for 
much  that  was  made  evident  to  me  through  the  medium 
of  mechanics  was  later  proved  by  means  of  geometry, 
because  the  treatment  by  the  former  method  had  not  yet 
been  established  by  way  of  a  demonstration. 

"  For,  of  course,  it  is  easier  to  establish  a  proof  if  one  has 
in  this  way  previously  obtained  a  conception  of  the  ques- 
tions, than  for  him  to  seek  it  without  such  a  preliminary 
notion. 

"  Thus  in  the  familiar  propositions  the  demonstrations 
of  which  Eudoxus  was  the  first  to  describe,  namely,  that  a 
cone  and  a  pyramid  are  one  third  the  size  of  that  cylinder 
and  prism  respectively  that  have  the  same  base  and  alti- 
tude, no  little  credit  is  due  to  Democritus,  who  was  the 
first  to  make  that  statement  about  these  bodies  without  any 
demonstration. 

"  But  we  are  in  a  position  to  have  found  the  present 
proposition  in  the  same  way  as  the  earlier  one,  and  1  have 
decided  to  write  down  and  make  known  the  method,  partly 
because  we  have  already  talked  about  it  heretofore,  and  so 
no  one  would  think  that  we  were  spreading  abroad  idle 
talk,  and  partly  in  the  conviction  that  by  this  means  I 
assume  that  someone  among  the  investigators  of  to-day,  or 
in  the  future,  will  discover  by  the  method  here  set  forth 
still  other  propositions  which  have  not  yet  occurred 
to  us." 

The  mathematical  matter  and  import  of  it  cannot 
be  treated  of  here,  except  to  mention  that  Archi- 
medes' method  is  analogous  to  that  of  the  modern 


66      RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

calculus,  ami  confirm  Zeutlien's  statements  of  Archi- 
medes' relation  to  the  integral  calculus.  The 
propositions  and  demonstrations  deal  with  the 
quadrature  of  the  parabola.  These  concern  the 
volumes  and  centres  of  gravity  of  spheres,  ellipsoids, 
paraboloids  and  hyperboloids  of  revolution.  The 
method  of  exhaustion  employed  distinctly  antici- 
pates its  modern  equivalent  of  integration. 

Another  interesting  peculiarity  of  the  problem  is 
the  use  by  Archimedes  of  the  principle  of  the  lever 
in  comparing  different  solids  of  revolution  by  a  kind 
of  method  of  balancing  the  elements  of  one  against 
the  corresponding  elements  of  the  other. 

It  is  by  a  skilful  balancing  of  sections  that  Archi- 
medes in  the  eleventh  proposition  of  this  work 
proves  the  volume  of  a  segment  of  a  right  cylinder 
cut  off  by  a  plane  through  the  centre  of  the  lower 
base  and  tangent  to  the  upper  one.  He  shows  that 
this  equals  one  sixth  of  the  square  prism  that  cir- 
cumscribes the  cylinder. 

As  far  as  we  now  are  aware  Archimedes,  was  the 
first  to  enunciate  this  result.* 

Professor  David  Eugene  Smith,  President  of 
Teachers'  College,  Columbia  University,  to  Avhose 
introduction  to  the  English  version  of  the  treatise  I 
am  indebted,  mentions  here  that  the  work  "shows 
the  working  of  the  mind  of  Archimedes  in  the  dis- 
covery of  mathematical  truths,  indicating  that  he 
often  obtained  his  results  by  intuition,  or  even  by 
measurement,  rather  than   by  an  analytic  form   of 

*  In  two  of  the  propositions,  those  of  the  quadrature  of  the 
parabola  and  the  volume  of  a  spheroid,  Archimedes  gives  merely  a 
summary  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  worked  the  problem  out  in  his 
'  Letters  to  Dositheos.' 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      67 

reasoning,  verifying  these  results  later  by  strict 
analysis. 

"  It  also  expresses  definitely  the  fact  that  he  was 
the  discoverer  of  those  properties  relating  to  the 
sphere  and  cylinder  that  have  been  attributed  to 
him  ;  and  that  are  given  in  his  other  works  without 
a  definite  statement  of  their  authorship."* 

In  1897  Signor  G.  Vailati  had  by  means  of  the 
newly  discovered  'Barulcusof  Hero  of  Alexandria' + 
and  the  works  of  Pappus  very  cleverly  reconstituted 
the  series  of  propositions  by  which  Archimedes  in  a 
lost  work  of  his,  probably  the  Uepllvyuiv,  had  estab- 
lished his  famous  theory  of  the  centre  of  gravity 
upon  which  was  founded  his  theorem  of  the  lever  .J 

In  190(5  Hermann  Schone§  found  in  the  Seraglio 
Library  at  Constantinople  a  work,  lost  hitherto,  of 
Hero  of  Alexandria  in  three  books,  the  Merpi/ea ; 
together  with  it  was  also  his  '  Dioptra,'  Monsieur 
Tannery  considers  it  to  be  the  most  important  work 
upon  Greek  mathematics  recovered  for  two  centu- 
ries. 

In  recent  years  some  light  had  been  thrown  upon 
the  contents  of  this  book  and  other  works  of  Hero 

*  Editio  Princeps.  '  Eine  neue  Schriftdes  Archimedes.'  von  J.L. 
Heiberg  und  H.  G.  Zeuthen.  Am-  Bibliotheca  Mathematical. 
Leipsic :  Teubner,  1907. 

f  The  'Barulcus'  was  published  from  the  Arabic  of  a  Ley  den 
manuscript,  by  M.  Carra  de  Vaux.  Hero  in  it,  according  to  de 
Vaux,  accorded  to  Praxidames  the  authorship  of  the  definition  of 
the  centre  of  gravity,  but  de  Clermont  G-anneau  reads  the  Arabic  as 
having  meant  Posidonius. 

X  Giovanni  Vailati.  '  Del  Concetto  di  centro  di  Gravita  nella 
Statico  d'Archimedo.'  Academy  of  Sciences,  Turin,  Clausen 
1897. 

§  '  Heronis  Alexandria  Opera  quae  Supersunt  III.  Heronis  von 
Alexandria  Vermessungslehre  und Dioptra  kt\.'  Leipzig:  H.  Teubner. 


68     RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

by  Arabic  manuscripts  at  Leiden.*  The  book  itself 
enables  us  to  rate  Hero's  treatise  much  higher  than 
the  careless  quotations  from  it  in  the  Arabic  had 
indicated.  It  is  true  that  a  perusal  of  it  shows  that 
he  copied  the  works  of  his  predecessors,  but  he  gives 
proof  of  original  research  and  thought,  and  ranks 
quite  beside  the  mathematicians  of  Alexandria  of  the 
second  period  such  as  Ptolemy,  Diophantus,  and 
Pappus. 

The  work  is  arranged  on  a  well-conceived  and 
executed  plan.  The  first  book  relates  to  the 
measurement  of  surfaces  ;  the  second  to  that  of 
volumes  ;  and  the  third  to  the  problems  of  divisions 
of  ratios  and  proportions,  and  of  various  other 
matters  respecting  areas  and  volumes.  To  enable 
students  to  understand  clearly  the  intention  of  the 
chapters,  a  preface  enumerates  the  problems  to  be 
surmounted,  and  explains  that  they  are  arranged  in 
a  rational  and  progressive  order,  t 

Until  we  possessed  this  work  of  Hero's  complete, 
we  had  no  specimen  explaining  really  what  the 
method  of  classical  analysis  and  synthesis  was  like.  J 

*  For  Hero's  fiapovXxos,  newly  found  in  the  Arabic,  see  note  to 
Archimedes. 

f  For  our  knowledge  of  Hero  of  Alexandria  and  Archimedes  see 
G.  Vailati,  '  Sulla  Storia  della  Meccanica  presso  i  Greci  Del  Con- 
cetto di  Centro  di  Gravita  nella  Statica  d'Archimede  principio  dei 
lavori  virtuali  de  Aristotile  a  Erone  d'Allesandria.'  Atti  dr.  Accad. 
d.  Sc.  de  Torino,  32,  1897. 

J  The  eminent  historian  of  mathematics,  M.  Tannery,  says  of 
Hero's  'Metrica'  and  its  composition:  "  Chaque  probleme  est 
enonce  avec  de3  donnees  numeriques  ;  puis  servi  d'une  demonstra- 
tion aboutit  a  ramener  le  probleme  a  une  question  dejn  resolue.  On 
en  d'autres  termes  a  montrer  que  l'aire,  ou  le  volume  cherche  est 
donne. 

"  C'est  l'analyse-suit  le  synthase  par  les  nombres,  qui  procede  le 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF    CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     69 

Thus  we  could  not  tell  if,  and  how,  it  differed  from 
what  we  mean  by  the  terms  now.  The  '  Metrika ' 
in  the  formulae  of  demonstrations  belongs  to  a  type 
unique  among  the  ancients,  as  far  as  we  know  at 
present,  and  so  has  historical  and  literary  import- 
ance. 

Hero  in  the  work  is  quite  a  contrast  to  the  dif- 
fusive style  of  classic  scientists.  He  comes  to  the 
point  immediately,  and  says  only  what  is  necessary 
to  substantiate  the  data  desired.  The  book  is 
probably  intended  for  tutors  more  than  students,  as 
he  does  not  carry  his  calculations  and  proofs  right 
on,  but  provides  a  basis  for  so  doing  if  his  readers 
desire.  He  is  far  superior  to  the  earlier  Alex- 
andrian mathematicians,  and  ahead  of  the  concepts 
of  the  Eleatics  and  Euclid.  He  quotes,  strange  to 
say,  the  newly  found  t'^oot^ov  of  Archimedes  des- 
cribed elsewhere  in  this  paper,  telling  us  that  the 
propositions  concerning  the  quadrature  of  the  para- 
bola were  therein.  See  also  Carra  de  Vaux  in 
'Revue  Asiatique,'  1894,  "  Les  Mecamques  on 
l'Elevateur  de  Heron  d'Alexandrie  publie  pour  le 
premier  sur  le  texte  Arabe  et  traduit  en  Francais." 

The  Academie  des  Inscriptions  et  Belles 
Lettres  published,  in  1903,  a  work  of  which 
hitherto  we  possessed  only  part  of  the  commence- 
ment in  a  Latin  version  by  Philo  of  Byzantium, 
entitled  by  its  editor,  Baron  Carra  de  Vaux,  '  Le 
Livre  des  Appareils  Pneumatiques  et  des  Machines 
Hydrauliques  par  Philo  de  Byzance.' 

sens  inverse,  mais  sans  demonstration.  Heron  y  part  simplement  des 
donnees  numeriqnes  et  donne  la  suite  des  calculs  a  faire  pour  abouter 
au  resultat  cbercbe." 


70     RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OE   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

The  treatise  is  completed  by  means  of  Arabic 
versions,  the  manuscripts  of  which  are  at  Constanti- 
nople and  Oxford.  The  contents  are  similar  to  the 
'  Pneumatica '  of  Hero  of  Alexandria,  and  the  two, 
being  now  complete,  afford  ample  information  on 
the  subject  as  known  to  the  ancients. 

The  Arabic  text  fairly  accurately  represents  the 
portion  of  the  Greek  it  is  possible  to  compare  it 
with ;  but  Baron  Carra  de  Vaux  thinks  that  it  is 
really  founded  upon  a  Persian  Sassanian  rendering 
from  the  Greek. 

A  second  work,  produced  by  the  French  Academic, 
is  '  Un  nouveau  Texte  des  Traites  d'Arpentage  et  de 
Geometric  d'Epaphroditus  et  de  Vitruvius  Rufus,' 
edited  by  MM.  Victor  Mortet  and  Paul  Tannery, 
1906;  also  "Vitruvius  Rufus-Mesure  des  Hauteurs 
et  for  mule  de  Tare  sur  hausse,"  fragment  des  MSS. 
de  Valenciennes,  'Revue  de  Philologie,'  1896. 

Perhaps  the  most  valuable  of  all  the  lost  works 
of  classical  authors  recovered,  during  the  harvests 
of  a  score  of  years'  search  we  are  summarising,  is 
Bacchylides,  whose  poems  were  found  quite  early  in 
this  period  and  published  in  1897.  Strange  to  say, 
in  point  of  date  of  restoration  to  literature  he  may 
also  be  placed  in  the  end  of  the  series,  for  only  last 
year  another  papyrus,  containing  the  seventeenth 
poem  represented  in  the  previously  found  manu- 
script, has  been  published  by  Dr.  Arthur  S.  Hunt 
in  the  eighth  part  of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri.' 
This  is  a  hymn,  or  ode,  one  of  the  finest  and  most 
lengthy  of  the  poems  and  known  as  "  The  Story  of 
Theseus  and  the  Youths." 

As   with    the    '  Politeia '    of    Aristotle,    and   the 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     71 

'  Mimes  of  Herodas,'  the  British  Museum  fortunately 
secured  the  equally  famous  papyrus  of  Bacchylides, 
and  will  doubtless  soon  possess  the  duplicate  of  the 
seventeenth  poem.  The  larger  manuscript  is  of 
unique  importance  because  of  its  early  date,  which 
from  paleographical  reasons  is  considered  to  be  of 
the  first  century  B.C.,  whilst  the  '  Oxyrhynchus ' 
manuscript  is  probably  of  the  second  century  of 
our  era. 

The  British  Museum  papyrus  is,  unfortunately, 
broken  off  into  three  pieces,  and  the  gaps  between 
these  are  represented  by  some  forty  fragments. 
The  first  piece  is  some  nine  feet  long,  containing 
twenty-two  columns  of  writing ;  the  second  twenty- 
seven  inches,  and  the  third  forty-two  inches, 
making  nearly  fifteen  feet  in  all.  This  indicates 
that  originally  the  approximate  length  of  the  roll 
was  some  seventeen  feet.  The  legible  part  restored 
to  us  now  gives  about  1100  legible  lines. 

These  present  twenty  poems,  of  which  six  are 
practically  complete,  and  three  of  these  are  the 
longest  in  the  collection. 

The  "  editio  princess  "  is  that  of  Dr.  Frederic  G. 
Kenyon.  Later  on,  what  for  some  time  to  come  is 
likely  to  be  the  standard  edition  is  that  of  Sir  Richard 
C.  Jebb,  published  in  1906,  giving  a  prose  version 
of  the  poems.  In  this  work,  however,  he  was 
unable  to  utilise  the  second  copy  of  the  one  poem 
edited,  as  mentioned,  only  last  year  by  Dr.  Hunt. 

Of  the  twenty  poems  in  this  collection  fourteen 
are  of  a  type  already  well  known  to  Hellenists, 
chiefly  from  the  '  Odes  of  Pindar,'  as  "  Epinikian." 
But  the  remaining  six,  and  these  fortunately  some 


7-      RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF    CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

of  those  most  perfectly  preserved,  are  examples  of 
another  description  of  lyrical  poem  which  may  best 
be  described  as  Dithyrambic,  or  paeans,  or  hymns, 
Their  name  depending  upon  the  deities  to  whom 
they  are  addressed.  The  six  final  poems  of  this  text 
of  Bacchylides  belong  to  various  of  these  categories. 
The  papyrus  probably  was  intended  to  contain  a 
selection  of  what  were  considered  to  be  the  best 
compositions  of  the  poet,  because  it  never  included 
all  his  works.  For  although  all  its  contents  with 
few  exceptions  are  more  or  less  legible,  yet  of  the 
107  poems  of  Bacchylides  previously  enumerated 
only  some  two  dozen  can  lie  identified  in  this  text.* 
This  is  not  the  proper  place  in  which  to  review 
the  poems  as  a  question  of  comparative  literature, 
or  to  describe  the  series  of  victories  which  the 
Epinikian  odes  celebrate.  A  short  list  of  the  sub- 
jects or  poems  acclaimed  may  be  welcome. 

The  first  and  second  were  composed  in  honour  of 
]\Ielas  of  Ceos,  a  countryman  of  the  poet. 

The  three  following  are  for  successes  of  Hieron, 
of  Sicily,  the  royal  patron  of  Bacchylides. 

The  sixth  and  seventh  odes  extol  the  prowess  of 
Lachon,  another  Cean  who  won  a  victory  in  the 
Olympian  Stadium.  These  two  are,  however,  very 
short,  and  the  text  of  the  seventh  is  much  destroyed. 
Ode  nine  contains  nearly  one  hundred  lines  ad- 
dressed to  Automedes  of  Phlius  for  his  victory  in 
the  Nemean  Pentathlum. 

The  tenth  commemorates  the  triumph  of  Alexa- 

*  Dr.  Kenyon  points  out  that  the  sjiecimens  of  Bacchylides' 
composition  of  "  Upoaifdiai,''  "  'Yiropx^fiaTd,"  "  'EpwrtKa',"  "  Uanotvta," 
and  "  'ETrtyp<!fipaTa,''  cannot  have  been  included  in  this  papyrus. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      73 

damns  of  Metapontum,  a  youth,  in  the  wrestling 
match  at  Pytho,  and  describes  the  healing  from 
madness  of  the  daughters  of  Proteus  by  Artemis. 

Of  the  next  ode,  that  to  Tisias  of  Argos,  we  have, 
as  yet,  but  eight  lines,  and  of  ode  13,  addressed  to 
Pytheas  of  Aegina,  only  mutilated  fragments,  which, 
however,  give  us  a  fairly  intelligible  specimen  of 
the  greater  portion  of  it.  This  ode  was  a  competitor 
with  the  fifth  Nemean  of  Pindar,  who  in  verse  famed 
the  success  of  the  same  competitor.  Bacchylides 
worked  into  his  poem  the  story  of  Ajax,  citizen  of 
Aegina,  like  Pytheas  ;  whilst  Pindar  chose  the  myth 
of  Peleus  as  chief  subject.  Of  the  fourteenth  ode 
we  possess  but  twenty- three  lines  of  the  exordium. 
It  was  composed  in  honour  of,  not  a  Greek,  but  of 
Cleoptolemus,  a  Thessalian,  and  for  a  triumph  at 
some  insignificant  contest  at  Petraea. 

The  third  portion  of  the  papyrus  gives  ten  columns 
of  the  different  type  of  poems.  Quite  half  of  the 
first  of  these  is  regrettably  mostly  missing.  The 
title  of  it  was  "  The  Sons  of  Antenor,"  or  "  The 
Demand  for  Helen's  Surrender,"  the  latter  name 
being  similar  to  that  of  Sophocles'  play,  the  "'EXwrig 

aira  it  TjaiQ. 

The  title  of  the  second  piece  is  lost  and  most  of 
the  text  also.  It  concerns  Heracles  and  Deianira. 
This  is  followed  by  a  lengthy  poem,  the  most  brilliant 
production  we  yet  possess  of  the  poet  and  the  best 
of  those  preserved  in  this  papyrus.  It  is  also  the 
one  represented  in  the  new  Oxyrhynchus  manu- 
script published  in  1911. 

The  story  describes  the  voyage  of  the  galley  with 
the  annual  tribute  of  Athenian  youths,  and  maidens, 

vol.  xxxi.  G 


71     RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

to  the  Cretan  Minotaur  ;  the  dispute  between  Minos 
and  Theseus  and  the  latter' s  descent  beneath  the 
waves  to  Poseidon. 

Theseus  is  also  hero  of  the  next  ode,  though  only 
indirectly  so.  The  workmanship  of  this  poem  is  of 
much  interest  because  it  consists  of  a  dialogue 
between  the  King  and  Queen  of  Athens,  Aegeus 
and  Medea.  Their  speeches  to  each  other  were 
sung  by  parts  of  the  chorus,  and  it  is  a  specimen  of 
an  interesting  type  of  Greek  lyrical  composition. 

The  final  odes  of  the  series  are  only  represented 
bj  a  moiet}^  of  the  first  which  was  named  "  Io  " ;  and  a 
few  short  legible  lines  of  the  last,  which  was  entitled 
"  Idas." 

An  interesting  detail  connected  with  the  finding 
of  Bacchylides'  poems  is  that  it  gives  us  the  meaning 
for  a  number  of  vase  paintings  of  contemporary  and 
later  Greek  art.  This  subject  Las  been  treated  in 
an  illustrated  edition  of  the  poems  by  MM. 
d'Eichthall  and  Theodore  Reinach.* 

Now  that  we  can  adequately  appreciate  the 
literary  qualities  of  Bacchylides,  great  classical 
scholars  appear  to  have  decided  to  place  his  posi- 
tion below  that  of  his  rival  Pindar,  and  also  of 
Aeschylus  and  Sophocles,  but  it  seems  scarcely  just 
to  compare  his  much  smaller  productions  with  the 
longer  work  of  the  two  last.  Bacchylides  is  certainly 
a  true  poet;  his  use  of  imagery,  always  apposite, 
is  brilliant.  His  love  of  the  beauties  of  nature  and 
literary  capability  of   impressing  his   appreciation 

*  '  Poemes  Choisis  de  Bacchylides,  traduit  en  Yers  par  Eug. 
d'Eichthall  et  Th.  Reinach,  Illustrations  et  heliogravures;  d'apres 
des  oeuvres  d'art  contemporaines  du  poete.'     Paris  :  E.  Leroux. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      75 

upon  his  readers  by  picturesque  comparison  with 
similar  types  of  splendour  in  short  sentences,  remain- 
ing indelible  in  the  memory  because  they  are  simple 
and  not  far-fetched,  is  most  apparent.  This  is  so  much 
the  case  as  to  render  even  translations  of  the  odes  into 
prose,  such  as  those  of  Mr.  E.  Poste,  M.A.,  and  Sir 
Richard  Jebb,  a  delight  to  peruse  by  any  lover  of 
poetry. 

Many  a  simile  used  again  and  again  by  later 
followers  of  the  Muse  appear  in  his  works,  and  some 
coincidences  with  his  metaphors  and  also  with  the 
expressions  of  other  authors  are  most  interesting.* 

MM.  E.  d'Eichthal  and  Theodore  Reinach  have 
rendered  in  verse  as  follows  the  last  part  of  Ode  17, 
describing  part  of  Theseus' investment  by  Amphitrite 
and  his  return  to  the  ship. 

"  Puis  sur  les  lourds  cheveux  du  heros  elle  pose 

Un  cercle,  ou  l'or  sertit  la  rose, 
Dont  son  front  nuptial  par  Cypris  fut  orne. 
Quand  les  dieux  ont  voulu,  rien  ne  leur  fait  obstacle. 
Pres  de  la  nef  rapide  il  emerge     ...     0  miracle  ! 
Doux  retour  qui  ravit  leur  regard  etonne  ! 
Quelle  honte  mordit  au  coeur  le  chef  de  Crete 
Quand,  vetu  des  presents  qu'il  a  recus  des  dieux, 
Les  membres  sees.     Thesee  apparut  radieux 

Sur  la  vague  a  la  blanche  crete  ! 

Alors  les  vierges  d'Oceau 
Font  vibrer  longuement  des  clameurs  d'esperance  ; 
La  mer  sonne,  et  des  flancs  de  la  nef,  vers  Pean, 

Monte  l'hymne  de  delivrance 

*  Some  valuable  commentaries  upon  Bacchylides  may  be  found  in 
an  article  by  S.  Wide,  "  Theseus  und  der  Meersprung  bei  Bacchy- 
lides "  in  the  Festschrift  volume  in  honour  of  Professor  Benndorf, 
and  in  A.  Olivieri,  '  Aproposito  de  Teseo  e  Meleagro  in  Bacchylide.' 
Bologna.  1899. 


76     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

Tels  les  fils  de  Ceos,  dansant  aupres  des  flots, 
Invoquent  dans  leur  chant  un  favorable  auspice 

Entends  leur  voeux,  le  coeur  propice, 

Exauce  nous,  dieu  de  Delos." 

The  fifth  heft  of  the  great  Prussian  publication 
of  new  classical  manuscripts.,  the  'Berliner  Klas- 
sikertexte,'  is  entirely  devoted  to  portions  preserved 
in  the  Berlin  Museum  of  text  from  Greek  poets.* 

One  of  its  chief  contents  is  a  prose  paraphrase  of 
an  Orphic  poem,  edited  by  the  somewhat  mythical 
Musaeus,upon  the  "  Rape  of  Persephone."  Numerous 
extracts  of  sentences  from  the  verse  are  given  in  the 
paraphrase.     From  the  text  there  can  be  no  doubt 
but   that    this    is    the    work    under    the    name    of 
"  Orpheus,"  referred  to  in  the   '  Parian  Chronicle.' 
Unfortunately  a  great  portion  of  this  text  is  not 
new  to  scholars,  because  a  considerable  part  is  copied 
from  the  well-known  Homeric  "  Hymn  to  Demeter." 
The  Orphic  author  of  the  basic  text  of  this  manu- 
script simply  plagiarised  his  predecessor's  work. 

He,  however,  adds  some  episodes  not  contained 
in  our  previous  recension  of  the  hymn.  For  instance, 
at  the  moment  of  the  abduction,  Zeus  not  only  inter- 
posed with  lightning  and  tlninder,'M^l5RHiglnlupon^ 
the  scene-some-black  sows,  who  attracted  the  darts 
of  Artemis  and  Athena  to  themselves. 

Two  strange  poems  in  this  collection  are  part  of 
some  fourth  century  memorial  enconiums  of  two 
deceased  professors  of  Berytus.  The  composition 
is  peculiar,  the  preambles  being  in  iambics  ;   then 

*  '  Berliner  Klassikertexte '  Heft  5,  4i  Grieschische  Dichter  frag- 
mente.  Epische,  Elegische,  Lyrische,  und  Dramatische  fragmente 
bearbeitet,"  von  W.  Schubart  und  U.  von  Wilamowitz  Moellendorff. 
Berlin,  1907. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OE   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      77 

in  one  case  the  verses  change  to  hexameters,  and  in 
the  other  to  elegiacs.  The  defunct  teachers  had  been 
lecturers  upon  rhetoric,  and  the  author  of  these  fune- 
rary effusions  quotes  Demosthenes  and  Thucydides, 
the  latter  in  such  a  manner  as  if  he  ascribed  the 
speeches  to  the  historian  himself.  Another  fragment 
of  a  manuscript  gives  a  list  of  Helen's  suitors,  and 
another  concerns  Meleager. 

The  most  important  new  literature  are  two  pieces, 
of  fifteen  lines  each,  from  Euphorion.  They  are 
definitively  identified  by  means  of  a  quotation  from 
them  in  a  scholion  of  Nicander.  The  first  fifteen 
lines  describe  Hercules'  last  labour.  Cerberus  is 
brought  to  Tiryns  to  the  terror  of  the  onlookers, 
Euphorion  interrupting  the  narrative  to  compare 
the  monster's  flashing  eyes  with  the  Cyclopean  fires 
at  Stromboli  and  Etna.  The  second  piece  concerns 
some  awful  curse,  in  which  the  pronouncer,  in  his 
anxiety  to  make  the  punishment  adequate  to  his 
greed  of  vengeance,  refers  to  instances  of  chastise- 
ments recorded  in  mythology. 

Another  manuscript  has  what  is  apparently  part 
of  an  epic  poem  concerning  Diomedes.  It  is  curious 
for  containing  a  description  of  varieties  of  watch 
dogs.  The  editors  then  print  some  portions  of 
Alcaeus ;  ten  additional  lines  of  this  text  are  in  a 
papyrus  at  Aberdeen. 

Two  pieces  of  Sappho,  previously  known,  but  now 
more  perfectly  edited,  are  properly  included  in  this 
memorable  volume. 

The  next  papyrus,  one  coming  from  Hermopolis> 
is  still  more  interesting,  for  it  preserves  part  of  two 
poems  by  Corinna.      The  first  describes  a  singing 


78      RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

contest  between  the  mythical  heroes  Helicon  and 
Cithaeron  before  a  jury  of  the  gods,  appropriately 
presided  over  by  the  Muses.  Cithaeron  chanted  so 
eloquently  of  the  infancy  of  Zeus  that  Helicon, 
seizing  an  enormous  rock,  hurled  it  downward, 
crushing  innumerable  people — perhaps  a  remem- 
brance of  some  half  remembered  Boeotian  earthquake. 
The  second  recounts,  in  a  ballad,  a  conversation 
between  the  daughters  of  Asopus,  Tanagra's  river 
god,  the  home  of  the  poetess,  and  the  god -like 
Acraephen,  prophet  of  the  oracle  at  Apollo's  shrine 
at  Ptoion,  and  son  of  Orion.  The  latter,  in  some 
pretty  lines,  is  described  as  elevated  to  heaven 
because  of  his  goodness.* 

The  rest  of  the  piece  concerns  the  nine  daughters 
of  Asopus,  who  were,  on  being  united  to  various 
deities,  carried  off  to  their  abodes. 

Some  scholia  upon  two  lyrics,  restoring  to  us  the 
two  songs,  and  a  little  Bacchic  elegy,  are  interesting. 
Fragments  of  lost  tragedies  and  comedies  com- 
plete the  volume,  and  give  us  a  nice  piece  of 
Sophocles'  "  'A)(a<an'  Eu'AAo-yoc,"  and  as  many  as  fifty- 
two  verses  from  Euripides  "  Cretans."  These 
contain  Pasiphae's  appeal  against  her  condemnation 
to  death,  by  Poseidon,  for  having  given  birth  to  the 
Minotaur.  So  eloquent  was  she  that  the  chorus 
was  moved  to  express  their  pity,  but  the  irate  royal 
husband  ordered  her  to  be  sealed  up  in  an  absolutely 
dark  dungeon. 

*  See  '  The  New  Fragments  of  Alcaeus,  Sappho,  and  Corinna,' 
edited  by  J.  M.  Edmonds,  Cambridge.  Manilius  not  only  calls 
Augustus  a  star,  but  says  when  he  goes  among  the  stars  his  power 
will  be  greater.  "  Uno  vincunter  in  astro  Augusto,  sidus  nostro  quod 
contigit  orbi:  Csesar  nunc  terris,  post  coelo,  maximus  auctor." 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      79 

These  lines  from  the  "  Cretans  "  are  found  upon 
a,  vellum  leaf  in  writing  of  about  the  second  century. 

Another  thirty-two  lines  from  the  "  Melanippe 
Desmotis  "  are  new,  and  to  these  are  added  others 
appertaining  to  it  previously  published. 

Of  comedy  there  is  an  extract  that  may  be  from 
Menander.  The  plot  concerns  two  young  men,  one 
of  whom  has  married  abroad  a  rich  heiress,  and 
returned  home  to  Athens  without  her.  The  second 
has  been  to  Ephesus,  and  there  espoused  a  daughter 
of  Phaneas,  the  Citharist,  who  fled  from  Athens  to 
avoid  his  creditors. 

Finallv,  the  editors  ffive  a  Ions:  extract  from  some 
poem,  in  anapaests,  in  which  Cassandra  recounts 
the  misfortunes  of  Hecuba,  in  a  style  much  akin  to 
Lycophron's,  and  a  Hymn  to  Tyche  closes  the 
.series.* 

In  1902  Dr.  W.  Schubart  edited  from  a  vellum 
page  three  columns  of  Greek  odes,  which,  by  means 
of  the  previously  known  citations  from  them,  he 
proved  to  be  poems  of  Sappho.  The  writing  is 
uncial,  and  paleographically  assignable  to  the 
seventh  century. 

The  metres  differ  from  those  employed  by  Sappho 
in  other  extant  portions  of  her  work,  but  the  poetry 
is  of  high  rank,  and  a  decided  acquisition. 

Mention  should  be  made  here  of  a  fragment  of 
the  same  poetess  in  an  Oxyrhynchus  papyrus,  which 
gives  a  few  lines  apparently  addressed  to  her  brother 
Charaxus. 

In    the    second    volume  of  the  Amherst  Papyri 

*  Reference  to  the  panegyrical  Coptic-Byzanto  poems  is  omitted 
here,  because  given  in  the  account  of  Dioscuros  of  Aphrodito. 


80     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE; 

there  are  fifteen  legible  lines  of  a  tragedy  concerning 
the  siege  of  Troy,  and  Hector  and  Polydamas  appear 
as  characters.  There  is  little  doubt  but  that  this  is 
from  the  "Hector"  of  Astydamas,  who  Plutarch 
tells  us  by  this  play,  gained  a  victory  famous  in 
Athenian  dramatic  annals. 

In  addition  to  these  poetic  pieces  from  papyri, 
quite  a  harvest  of  inedited  verses  from  more  than  a 
score  of  Greek  poets  has  been  gathered  from  a 
manuscript  in  Berlin,  which,  unnoticed  until  a 
few  years  ago,  was  then  found  to  contain,  at  the 
end  of  some  theological  texts,  the  missing  commence- 
ment of  Photius'  '  Lexicon.'  This  has  been  edited 
by  Peitzenstein,  but  the  special  importance  of  the 
poetical  citations  Photius  supplied  has  been  treated 
of  by  Willamowitz  Moellendorff.  Of  Aeschylus 
there  are  three  new  verses  from  the  Hoplon 
Krisis,  Neaniskoi,  and  Mysians. 

From  Euripides,  fifteen  from  the  Stheneboia, 
Aegea,  Alkmeon,  Andromeda,  Autolykos,  Thyestes, 
Theseus,  and  Polydus,  Thrattai  and  Panoptai. 

From  Cratinus,  ten  verses  of  the  Archilochus  and 
the  Dionysalexandros.  Also  a  fragment  of  the 
AiA<£wi'  of  Apollonius'  '  Dolichos,'  which  title  A.  J. 
Reinach  suggests  means  a  victor  at  the  Pythian 
race  of  the  Amphidromos. 

There  is  also  a  quotation  from  the  lost  "  Atthis  "  of 
Cleidemos,  in  which  he  calls  the  Eumenides  'avSpuroi 
Otai.  Besides  these  there  are  four  new  verses  of 
Eupolis,  six  of  Aristophanes,  and  quotations  from 
Phrynichos,  Ion,  Nikomachos,  Agathon,  Demonax, 
and  Thespis.* 

*  A  number  of  Reitzenstein's  researches  upon  this  subject  are  in 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OE    CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      81 

An  inscription  discovered  at  Delphi,  and  de- 
scribed by  M.  Bourguet  in  the  volume  '  Epigraphie  ' 
in  the  "  Fouilles  de  Delphes,"  adds  to  fame  the 
name  of  a  poet  evidently  of  some  merit,  and  of 
whose  works  we  may  hope  a  papyrus  will  give  a 
specimen. 

He  was  an  Argive  and  Athenian  named  M. 
Aurelius  Ptolemaios,  and  nourished  under  Corn- 
modus.  He  gained  prizes  three  times  at  the  Great 
Games,  and  also  at  the  Capitolia,  Eusebeia  of 
Pozzuoli,  the  Sebasta  at  Naples,  Aktia;  at  the  Aspis 
of  Hera  ;  the  Hadriana ;  and  the  Olympeia-Asklepia- 
Commodeia  at  Pergamos,  besides  at  Sparta  and 
elsewhere. 

'  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus'  1087  is  made  up  of 
Scholia  upon  the  seventh  book  of  the  'Iliad,'  and  in 
its  two  complete  columns  mentions  readings  advo- 
cated by  Aristophanes  and  Zenodotus,  but  does  not 
incorporate  Aristarchian  versions. 

It  is  mainly  a  grammatical  commentary,  and 
fortunately  by  a  learned  literary  scholar,  who 
supports  his  views  by  quotations,  new  to  us,  from 
Pindar  and  several  poets,  carefully  mentioning  the 
works  the  citations  are  taken  from. 

He  quotes  Euripides'  '  Temenus  '  and  '  Aegeus  ' ; 
Aeschylus'  '  Phineus  ' ;  Sophocles'  '  Phineus  I ' ; 
Cratinus'   '  Malthace.' 

Also  Archilochus,  Antimachus'  '  Thebais ; '  and 
Eupolis  ;  the  '  Oresteia  '  of  Stesichorus,  Leucon's 
'  Phrateres,'  and  the  '  Silli '  of  Xenophanes,  con- 
firming   the   statement  of    Strabo  concerning    this 

a  little  work  of  his  published  by  the  Academy  of  Rostock,  'Inedita 
Poetarum  Graecorum  Fra gmenta.' 


82      RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

work,  the  title  of  which  was  copied  from  the  '  Silli ' 
of  Timon.  These  poems  of  Xenophanes  appear 
to  have  attacked  various  poets  and  philosophers 
according  to  Wachsmuth  as  quoted  by  Dr.  Hunt. 

The  221  st  papyrus  from  '  Oxyrhynchus  '  preserves 
what  reaches  to  some  seventeen  large  printed  pages 
of  scholia  upon  the  twenty-first  book  of  the  '  Iliad,' 
and  bears  a  signature  of  "  Ammonius,  son  of 
Ammonius,  a  grammarian,"  who  may  be  the  author. 
The  connection  between  these  scholia  and  those 
of  three  of  the  series  we  have,  especially  the  Geneva 
ones,  is  very  close,  indeed  they  appear  to  have 
relied  mainly  upon  this  work. 

For  this  reason  we  already  possess  many  valuable 
quotations  from  the  classics  given  by  Ammonius 
herein,  though,  his  work  being  the  original  one,  he 
often  cites  the  names  of  authors  for  excerpts  that  the 
previously  known  scholia  had  not  assigned,  although 
quoting  them. 

He,  however,  gives  us  new  illustrations  selected 
from  Hesiod,  Pindar,  Alcaeus,  Sophocles,  and 
Aristotle,  Aristophanes  of  Byzantium,  Stesichorus, 
Dionysius  of  Sidon,  Protagoras,  Ptolemy  of  Ascalon, 
and  some  unknown  authors. 

Among  the  numerous  specimens  of  scholia  upon 
Homer  that  have  come  to  light  in  the  papyri  one  of 
the  best  is  that  in  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus '  No. 
1086,  vol.  viii,  and  it  is  of  respectable  antiquity,  being 
a  first  century  text.  It  is  intimately  connected 
with  the  Aristarchian  commentaries,  that  writer's 
critical  signs  being  utilised.  Previously  most  of  our 
information  of  Aristarchus'  work  was  derived  from 
the  Venice  codex  of  the  '  Iliad.' 


EECENT   DISCOVERIES    OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      83 

This  anonymous  writer's  remarks  upon  its  second 
book  are  evidently  founded  on  Aristarclius'  labours. 
It  is  also  very  closely  allied  with  Aristoxenus.  The 
writer  of  these  scholia  quotes  two  new  verses  of 
Alcaeus  and  mentions  a  philosopher  Praxiphanes. 
An  inscription  at  Delos  recently  found  refers  pro- 
bably to  this  peripatetic,  who  was  pupil  of  Theo- 
phrastus  and  wrote  a  dialogue,  -mpl  7roi7?n.ji'.  A  writer 
of  the  same  name  is  quoted  in  a  scholion  on  Oedipus, 
col.  900. 

It  was  naturally  anticipated  that  as  Callimachus 
had  resided  in  Egypt  portions  of  his  poems  would 
probably  be  found  among  the  thousands  of  manu- 
scripts buried  in  that  country.  Small  pieces  of  the 
"  Hecale  "  and  hymns  have  come  to  light,  and  in 
1904  Professor  Nicolle,  of  Geneva,  edited  in  the 
*  Revue  des  Etudes  Grecques '  a  vellum  page  giving 
part  of  sixteen  lines  of  verses  with  marginal  scholia 
which  he  identified  with  the  Aetia.* 

The  portion  restored  by  him,  as  far  as  possible, 
concerns  the  account  of  the  Argonauts  visiting 
Phaeacia,  but  in  1910  the  "Egypt  Exploration 
Fund,"  in  their  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,'  Part  7, 
published  seven  pages  of  a  papyrus  book  giving 
nearly  500  lines  from  two  of  his  works. 

These  are  the  'Aetia'  and  the  'Iambi,'  and  we 
have  90  almost  perfect  lines  of  the  first  and  400 
much  less  so  of  the  second.  The  portion  of  the 
'  Aetia  '  is  on  folios  1  and  2  of  the  manuscript,  and 
gives  us  the  second  part  of  the  epilogue  to  the  fourth 

*  In  Hermes,  vol.  xlvi,  p  471,  Willainowitz  Moellendorff  identifies 
the  lines  in  Ryland's  papyrus  No.  13  as  being  from  Callimachus' 
'  Aetia.' 


84     RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

book  in  which  Callimachus  enters  a  sort  of  farewell 
to  poesy,  saying  he  will  henceforth  work  in  prose. 
This  probably  refers  to  the  commencement  of  his 
long  work,  the  irivaKiq,  a  kind  of  encyclopaedia  of 
literature.  At  the  end  of  the  versified  epilogue  a 
note  adds,  "The  fourth  book  of  the  'Aetia':'  of 
Callimachus,  thus  finally  deciding  the  number  of 
books  it  contained. 

Returning  to  the  first  page  found,  this  gives  a 
good  deal  of  the  poet's  rendering  of  the  story  of 
Acontius  and  Cydippe  of  Ceos,  which  we  know  from 
a  fragment  previously  extant  was  in  the  third  book 
of  the  "Aetia."  The  new  text  supplies  the  story 
starting  from  about  half-way  when  Cydippe  was 
first  seized  with  illness.  The  pretty  tale  on  which 
the  poem  is  founded  is  known  completely  from  the 
so-called  "  Love  Letters  of  Aristaenetus,"  and  we 
now  see  that  he  in  his  prose  version  was  copying 
closely  the  metrical  one  of  Callimachus,  adding 
some  items  of  his  own.  There  was,  therefore, 
another  form  of  the  story,  and  the  new  papyrus 
discloses  that,  and  reveals  the  source  of  Calli- 
machus' plot,  for  he  tells  us  he  utilised  the  story 
as  told  by  Xenomedes,  the  early  historian  of  Ceos. 
Callimachus  in  the  part  of  the  poem  preserved  even 
provides  a  summary  of  some  of  the  mythical  history 
of  Ceos  as  related  by  Xenomedes. 

The  '  Aetia,'  Ave  know,  had  for  the  subject  of 
Book  III  the  invention  of  certain  arts,  including 
that  of  writing,  and  probably  the  Cydippe  story  was 
woven  into  it,  as  a  poetic  device,  as  an  instance  of 
the  difficulties  into  which  the  art  might  sometimes 
lead. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES    OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      85 

For  all  the  trouble  at  the  commencement  of  the 
story  arose  from  a  handsome  youth,  Acontius,  in 
love  with  Cydippe,  and  seeing  her  one  day  in  the 
sacred  precincts  of  Artemis's  temple,  writing,  as  a 
sort  of  charm  to  hind  her  to  himself,  upon  a  fine 
apple  the  words — 

"  By  Artemis,  I  will  marry  Acontius." 

This  he,  unnoticed,  rolled  before  Cydippe,  who 
picked  it  up  and  read  the  inscription,  and  then 
threw  the  fruit  away  as  not  concerning  her,  and 
proceeded  with  the  arrangements  for  marrying 
another  suitor. 

However — and  here  the  recovered  part  of  Calli- 
machus'  poem  commences — before  the  nuptial  date 
she  fell  ill,  and  three  times  the  same  sad  fortune 
intervened.  The  father  asked  Apollo's  advice,  and 
was  told  of  the  broken  oath,  for  so  it  appears 
Artemis  had  considered  it,  and  advised  him  to 
induce  Cydippe  to  carry  out  her  undesigned  vow  to 
Acontius.  This  the  beautiful  girl  did,  and  all  ended 
well.  The  other  folios  of  the  book,  containing  part 
of  the  Iambi,  give,  firstly,  much  destroyed,  the 
story  of  "  Bathycles'  Cup,"  which  was  to  be  pre- 
sented to  the  wisest  man,  and  went  the  round  of 
the  sages,  finally  being  awarded  to  Thales. 

Part  of  this  poem  we  knew  from  Diogenes  Laer- 
tius,  and  Diodorus,  and  attempts  had  been  made  to 
reconstruct  it.  The  new  papyrus,  though  not  very 
legible,  enables  this  to  be  further  carried  out ;  and 
enough  can  now  be  made  of  it  to  achieve  a  fair 
judgment  of  the  work. 

A  better  preserved  portion  of  the  Iambi  is  that 
following,  which   describes  the  dispute  between  an 


86     REGENT   DISCOVERIES   OF    CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

olive  tree  and  a  laurel.*  They  dilate  upon  their 
respective  merits,  the  laurel  especially  vaunting  its 
use  for  ceremonials  and  taunting  the  olive  with  its 
connection  with  the  dead.  The  olive  answers  that 
it  is  an  honour  to  be  associated  with  the  dead,  and 
recites  that  it  was  always  one  of  its  branches  that 
formed  a  prize  at  the  Olympic  games,  and  so  forth. 
The  work  seems  not  one  likely  to  add  to  the  fame 
of  Callimachus. 

The  remains  of  another  Iambus  are  curious,  but 
scarcely  comprehensible,  they  refer  to  matters  of 
literary  composition,  pentameters,  and  poetry, 
tragedians,  and  choliambics.  For  composing  the 
latter  students  are  advised  to  follow  the  style  of 
Hipponax  of  Ephesus.f 

What  may  be  termed  the  classic  "clou"  to  the 
eighth  part  of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,'  issued 
last  year,  is  the  rather  long  text  from  the 
"Mel iambi"  of  Cercidas,  a  cynic  philosopher, 
politician,  and  poet  of  Megalopolis,  friend  of  Aratus, 
not  the  Cercidas  denounced  in  the  "  De  Corona." 

By  "  Meliambi "  are  meant  satirical  verses  in 
lyric  metre.  The  metre  exemplified  in  these  remains 
is  the  dactylo-epitritic,  alternating  occasionally,  to 
avoid  monotony,  with  trochaic  rhythms,  thus 
resembling  the  system  adopted  by  both  Bacchylides 
and  Pindar,  but  more  closely  allied  to  the  structure 
of  the  poem  of  Philoxenus,  the  kinrvov. 

*  For  early  fable  concerning  an  olive,  see  Judges,  ix,  8,  etc. 

t  A  most  interesting  item  in  the  '  Aetia '  is  the  reference  to  the 
sending  out  of  sickness  into  a  goat,  closely  resembling  the  concepts 
set  forth  regarding  the  "  scape  goat "  in  Leviticus,  xvi,  21.  The 
exorcism  of  disease  by  transferring  it  to  a  wild  goat  is  men- 
tioned by  Hesychius  and  Philistratus,  and  occurs  in  cuneiform 
necromantic  tablets. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      87 

One  result  of  the  acquisition  of  this  papyrus  is 
that  it  fixes  upon  the  second  of  the  Cercidases,  who 
were  citizens  of  Megalopolis,  as  the  author  of  the 
"  Meliambi,"  and  so  brings  their  date  of  composition 
down  to  the  latter  half  of  the  third  century.  A 
peculiarity  of  the  work  lies  in  the  profusion  of 
novel  compound  words  he  employs,  many  of  what 
may  be  termed  a  comical  character.  They  are,, 
indeed,  outlandish  verbal  combinations  produced 
because  he  endeavoured  to  imitate  the  facility  of  his 
abler  predecessors  to  coin  pregnant  epithets.  The 
first  part  of  the  new-found  work  treats  of  Divine 
providence  and  the  gods.  He,  like  the  cynic  philo- 
sophers, is  antipolytheistic,  and  shows  the  difficulty 
of  reconciling  the  facts  of  life  with  the  idea  that 
the  deities  are  either  just  or  omnipotent ;  even  Zeus 
himself  is  really  unable  to  help  the  just.  The  diffi- 
culty must  be  left  to  astrologers,  and  Paean,  god  of 
healing,  and  Giving  and  Eetribution  had  better  be 
worshipped.* 

Another  consecutive  series  of  lines  referring-  to 
the  winds  of  Aphrodite's  son  (Cupid)  blowing  two 
kinds  of  breath,  quotes  at  length  a  passage  already 
suggested  to  be  from  Euripides :  "  Well,"  said 
Euripides,  "  Is  it  not  better  to  choose,  of  the  two, 
the  favouring  breeze,  and  wisely  using  the  rudder  of 
persuasion  to  sail  straight  while  our  course  lies  in 
Aphrodite's  waters  ?  "  The  passage  is  quoted  in  a 
poem  concerning  love.     The  mutilated  text  indicates 

*  The  deification  of  "Mere  Chance"  in  a  recently  found  Greek 
inscription  from  Pergamos  is  analogous  to  this.  'ApjrjJ  icai  "2w<ppoavvi), 
Uiarii  nai  'O/xovoiq.,  NuKri  icai  Tt\tT?j  <cii  rtji  Avtoixc'it^.  Also  from 
Pergamos,  Hepding  has  published  an  inscription  referring  to  the 
Orphic  deifications  of  "Finality"  and  "Fatality,"  compare 
Ecclesiastes,  ix.  11. 


88      RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

that  Cercidas  did  not  recommend  marriage  and 
gave  somewhat  immoral  advice. 

The  chief  interest  of  this  papyrus  lies  in  the  fact 
that  it  presents  a  fairly  sufficient  specimen  of  Meli- 
ambi,  a  thing  we  did  not  hitherto  possess.  The  verses 
themselves  are  neither  very  original,  nor  worthy  of 
preservation  even  for  their  literary  composition. 
They  probably  were  the  leisure  occupation  of  a 
cultivated  man  of  the  world,  and  the  extracts  we 
now  have,  as  they  certainly  do  not  bear  out  the 
reputation  his  work  had  among  the  ancients,  it  may 
be  considered  are  not  from  the  best  part  of  the 
poems. 

A  very  weighty  specimen  of  the  value  of  quite 
apparently  useless  fragments  of  ancient  papyrus 
manuscripts  is  afforded  by  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus  ' 
603,*  containing  from  forty-five  to  fifty,  some  of 
them  partly  illegible,  lines  of  the  argument,  with  a 
scholion  thereon,  of  the  famous  lost  play  of  Cratinus, 
the  "  Dionysalexandros."  Previously  only  nine  short 
sentences  of  this  work  were  known,  and  displayed  so 
little  of  the  true  character  of  the  play  that  some 
scholars  considered  it  concerned  Alexander  the 
Great,  and  assigned  its  authorship  to  Cratinus  the 
younger.  The  play  now  proves  to  be  an  amusing 
skit  upon  the  Trojan  War.  The  papyrus  summary 
of  the  action  sets  forth  that  the  chorus,  composed 
of  satyrs,  are  around  Dionysius  upon  Mount  Ida 
when  Hera,  Athena  and  Aphrodite  endeavour  by 
rival  promises  to  obtain  his  heart. 

*  The  writing  is  small  uncial  of  late  second,  or  commencement 
of  the  first  century.  The  scholion  at  the  end  says  that  the  play  was 
intended  to  satirise  Pericles. 


.EECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     80 

The  first  promises  invincibility,  the  second 
victory  in  warfare,  the  third  such  an  access  of  per- 
sonal beauty  as  shall  render  him  the  beloved  of  all  the 
fair  sex.    Needless  to  say  he  accepted  the  last  offer. 

In  proof  of  its  potency  he  sets  off  out  of  Lace- 
daemon  and  carries  off  Helen,  taking  her  back  to 
Mount  Ida.  Menelaus,  robbed  of  his  spouse,  arms 
all  Greece  to  regain  her,  and  having  disembarked 
near  Troy,  commenced  ravaging  the  country.  Dio- 
nysius hides  Helen  in  a  basket,  and  to  secure  his 
own  safety  transforms  himself  into  a  ram  and  takes 
refuge  with  Paris-Alexander.  The  latter,  however, 
detects  the  deity  and  finds  Helen,  and  to  save  his 
country  from  devastation  declares  that  he  will 
deliver  them  up  to  the  Greeks. 

The  lady  displays  such  distress  at  her  impend- 
ing fate,  and  looks  so  lovely  in  her  grief,  that 
Alexander  decides  to  take  her  for  wife  and 
surrender  Dionysius  only,  who  departs  for  the 
Achaen  fleet  accompanied  by  the  satyr  chorus  as 
scenic  mourners. 

Short  as  the  text  is  it  suffices  to  show  us  that  the 
pretty  fooling  of  the  comedy  all  had  a  political 
motive,  perfectly  apparent  to  the  Athenian  audiences 
who  crowded  to  view  its  representation. 

Dionysius,  who  loosed  the  terrors  of  war  upon 
Asia,  is  representative  of  Pericles,*  Helen,  the  lady 
causing  the  animosity  that  produced  the  hostilities, 
stands  for  Aspasia.  Paris-Alexander  at  the  Achean 
demand  deciding  to  deliver  Dionysius  to  the  Greeks 
refers  to  the  Spartans,  and  the  Lacedemonian  claim 

*  See  G.  Thieme.  '  Quaestioiium  comicornm  ad  Periclem  pertinen- 
tium  capita  tria.'     Leipzig  :  Marquart,  1908. 

VOL.    XXXI.  7 


•Ml      RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OE   classical    LITERATURE. 

for  Pericles,  and  the  allusion  must  have  been  easily 
detected  and  appreciated  because  Helen  lived  at 
Sparta  with  Menelaus.*  This  piece  of  under  fifty 
lines  of  matter  gives  still  more  knowledge  upon 
questions  of  Hellenic  literature,  and  that  also  of  the 
highest  antiquity,  because  it  is  the  oldest  comedy  of 
which  we  may  be  said  to  have  detailed  information. 
It  shows  that  the  mythological  comedy  at  Athens  in 
the  fifth  century  B.C.  had  a  satirical  tendency,  also 
that  it  founded  its  fantasy  upon  observations  of 
humanity  as  we  find  in  Aristophanes. 

Parabasis  and  personalities  of  political  ephemeral 
satire  were  mingled,  but  the  mythological  travesty, 
probably  originating  with  Epicharmus,  was  chiefly 
relied  upon  for  amusing  tlie  audience  expecting  a 
treat  like  the  Doric  farce. 

Herr  Korte  t  thinks  that  this  piece  and  the 
"Frogs"  of  Aristophanes  and  Eupolis'  "Taxiarcho  " 
show  Dionysius  to  have  been  a  stock-ludicrous 
character  created  by  Epicharmus.  J  Again  the  two 
scenes  show  the  use  of  four  actors,  proving  that  the 
primitive  comedy  made   small  call  upon  the  ability 

*  If  a  mutilated  phrase  concerning  the  Parabasis  is  correctly 
emendated  by  Rutherford  and  Thieme  into  irtpl  inuv  irou)oe us,  the  work 
was  composed  at  the  time  when,  Pericles'  own  children  having  died, 
he  desired  to  legitimise  his  son  by  Aspasia.  This  date  would  take 
the  play  to  the  Lenaea  of  B.C.  429.  M.  Croiset,  in  a  memoir  at 
the  French  Academy,  July,  1904,  endeavoured  to  show  a  connection 
between  the  comedy  of  Cratinos  and  a  fragment  of  the  '  Moirai  of 
Hermippos  '  that  would  prove  it  was  produced  at  the  Lenaea  of 
B.C.  438. 

f  See  Korte,  "  Die  Hypotheses  zu  Kratenos'  Dionysalexandros  "  in 
'  Hermes,'  vol.  xxxix. 

X  A  new  fragment  of  Epicharmus  is  among  the  Vienna  paypri.  It 
is  from  the  'Ocwotvs  dvrojioXos.  See  F.  Blass  in  '  Jahrbucher  fur 
Philologie  und  Pedagogik,'  1889. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      91 

of  the  actors,  and  so  did  not  restrict  their  number 
to  three.  We  see  also  from  these  lines  that  pieces 
founded  upon  mythology  were  constructed  in  the 
same  way  as  others.  M.  Croiset  has  proved  this  by 
reconstituting  the  division  of  the  scenes,  and  making 
it  clear  that  their  arrangement  corresponds  to  the 
ordinary  Aristophanic  type. 

In  1908,  in  Part  V  of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,' 
"  Theopompus  or  Cratippus,"  Doctors  Grenfell  and 
Hunt  published  the  most  important  historical 
papyrus  discovered  since  that  of  the  "Politeia"  of 
Aristotle.  In  this  new  manuscript  there  are  twenty- 
one  broad  columns  of  writing  describing,  with  great 
fulness,  Greek  history  in  the  years  following  the 
Peloponnesian  war.  The  chapters  the  columns 
represent  concern  chiefly  the  short  period  of  396 
and  part  of  395  B.C. 

The  work  has  been  called  the  "  Hellenika,"  * 
because  that  was  the  title  of  the  anciently  famous 
history  by  Theopompus,  relating  the  events  of  the 
same  period  as  this  work,  if  complete,  must  have 
done.  It  was  also  the  title  of  Xenophon's  history 
of  this  era.  Several  scholars,  especially  those  of 
Germany,  have  attributed  this  text  to  Theopompus, 
and  others  to  Ephorus,  and  even  to  Androtion. 
But  the  probabilities  are  all  in  favour  of  Cratippus, 
to  wmom  Professor  Blass  at  first  assigned  it.t 

The  book  must  have  been  written  soon  subsequent 
to    the   events    it    describes,  and    probably    before 

*  '  Hellenika  Oxyrhynchus  cum  Theopompi  et  Cratippi  Frag- 
ment is,'  edited  LyB.  P.  Grenfell  and  H.  S.  Hunt.  Oxford:  Clarendon 
Press.  1909. 

t  See  C.  Lecrivain,  "  Les  Nouveaux  fragments  del'Historien  Theo- 
pompe,"  '  Memoires  de  PAcademie  de  Toulouse,'  19U9,  pp.  195-217. 


92      RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITER ATTIRE. 

Xenophon  wrote  his  version  of  them,  because  it  is 
quite  independent  of,  and  frequently  contradictory, 
to  him.  The  author  of  the  new-found  work  is  also 
evidently  the  source  either  directly,  or  through 
1  uning  been  largely  quoted  by  some  subsequent 
historian,  for  the  narrative  in  Diodorus.* 

The  events  described  in  the  papyrus  commence 
with  the  expedition  of  Demaenetus,  include  the 
general  jealousy  of  Sparta  in  Greece,  and  then 
the  details  of  the  naval  war.  Chapters  VI  and  VII 
concern  Agesilaus  in  Asia,  and  are  of  great  interest 
as  showing  in  quite  a  new  view  the  actions  of  that 
great  leader,  and  favouring  Conon.  The  death  of 
Tissaphernes  is  described,  the  revolution  at  Rhodes, 
and  then  is  interposed  a  valuable  dissertation  upon 
the  Boeotian  Constitution,  introduced  in  connection 
with  the  war  between  Boeotia  and  Phocis.f 

*  Busolt,  in  "Hermes."  53.  argues  that  the  papyrus  is  a  work 
of  Theopompus,  and  one  that  was  much  used  by  Ephorus,  from  whom 
Diodorus  copied.  His  essay  is  of  importance,  because  he  shows 
great  animus  against  the  new-found  history  for  contradicting 
Xenophon.  saying  much  of  it  is  pure  invention  for  the  purpose  of 
discrediting  him.  Certainly  the  two  writers  are  sometimes  very 
contradictory.  Cratippus  (?)  says,  as  to  the  Phocian-Locrian  War, 
that  Pharnabazus  supplied  the  funds  to  stir  it  up.  That  the 
Athenians  took  the  money,  and  that  the  Phoceans  commenced 
the  campaign  by  invading  Locrian  territory.  Xenophon  tells  us 
that  Tithraustes  sent  the  fifty  talents,  and  that  the  Athenians 
declined  the  sum  tended,  and  the  Opuntian  Locrians  began  the 
hostilities  by  invading  Phocis.  There  is  a  fragment  of  an  epitome 
of  the  •'  Philippica  "  of  Theopompus,  printed  in  vol.  i  of  '  Greek 
Papyri  in  the  Ryland's  Library,'  Manchester. 

f  The  difficulties  concerning  the  arrangement  of  the  Boeotian 
Constitution,  as  described  by  Thucydides,  and  in  this  new 
"Hellenika"  are  much  cleared  up  by  M.  Gustave  Glotz  in  the 
'  Bulletin  Correspondance  Hellenique,'  1908.  He  shows  the  numerical 
basis  for  their  having  11  x  60  =  660  members  for  the  great  Boule 
which  met  in  the  Cadmea.     It  was  because  each  Boetarch  had  for  his 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     93 

Pausing  to  explain  the  state  of  parties  at  Thebes, 
the  writer  then  returns  to  the  naval  war  and  the 
mutiny  of  Conon's  troops,  and  again  to  the  fortunes, 
in  Asia,  of  Agesilaus.* 

The  great  gain  to  history  from  this  manuscript 
can  be  appreciated  even  from  this  short  summary. 
Its  chief  import,  however,  is  in  the  new  light  it 
throws  upon  Agesilaus,  because  of  the  minute 
account  it  gives  of  his  Lydian  and  Phrygian 
campaigns,  correcting  as  it  proceeds  what  was, 
apparently,  the  excessive  admiration  in  which  he 
was  held  by  Xenophon.f 

The  author's  accurate  knowledge  of  the  events  of 
the  Asiatic  war  is  such  that  he  may  have  been 
personally  present ;  at  any  rate  the  account  is 
obviously  written  immediately  subsequent  to  it.  $ 

His  position  was  probably  that  of  an  officer  of 
distinction,  perhaps  upon  the  staff.  But  he  is  not 
so  acquainted  with  the  tenor  of  political  negotia- 
tions as  with  military  matters,  and  so  was  not  a 
confidant  of  Agesilaus.     Possibly  the  historian  has 

federal  district  sixty  councillors.  These  were  again  subdivided  into 
four  Boulae  of  fifteen  members  each.  The  four  Boulae  Cratippus 
(?)  assigns  to  each  city,  are  the  four  councils  of  fifteen  members  each  ; 
660  is  also  a  multiple  of  4  x  3  x  5  x  11,  for  which  see  M.  Glotz. 

*  In  the  '  Journal  des  Savants,'  1910,  p.  370,  etc.,  M.  Foucart  gives 
a  more  correct  reading  of  a  passage  of  Philochorus  relating  to  Conon's 
share  in  the  naval  campaign,  terminating  with  the  victory  of  Cnidus. 
The  new  extract  from  Philochorus  is  in  the  Didymus  papyrus. 

f  See  C.  Dugas,  "  La  Campaign  d'Agesilaus  en  Asie  Mineur 
Xenophon  et  rAnnonyme  d'Oxyrhynchus,"  '  Bulletin  Corr.  Hellen- 
ique,'  1910,  pp.  38-95. 

+  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  says  of  Cratippus,  "  Kparnnrog  6  rd 
napaXiKpGivTa  im-'  avrou  ovvayaywv,"  the  final  word  intimating  that  part 
of  his  work  was  a  compilation.  An  important  study  of  this  papyrus 
in  relation  to  Diodorus  and  Xenophon's  history  of  Agesilaus  is 
in  an  article  by  A.  von  Mess,  Rheinisches  Museum,  1909,  234-245. 


94     RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

utilised  the  officer's  diary  or  journal,  and  so  these 
chapters  of  the  papyrus  arc  not  directly  by  the 
person  who  took  part   in  the  campaigns. 

Thus  the  history  may  still  be  from  the  hand  of 
Cratippus  (or  perhaps  Androtion). 

But  the  open  manner  in  which  he  points  out  the 
failures  as  well  as  the  successes  of  the  Lacedemonian 
King  strongly  tend,  for  what  we  know  of  the 
work  of  Theopompus,  to  prevent  the  attribution 
of  the  new-gained  book  to  him.* 

Upon  the  verso  of  the  manuscript  of  Didymus 
upon  Demosthenes  is  a  fairly  considerable  amount 
of  a  treatise  upon  "  Ethical  Principles,"  'ROiKtr) 
2toix,«'«<"c  It  claims  to  be  written  by  Hierocles. 
Fortunately  we  have  in  Stobaeus  long  extracts 
from  a  work  of  a  Stoic  named  Hierocles,  a  con- 
temporary of  Epictetus.  The  style  is  so  similar 
that  the  writer  is  evidently  the  same  person.  The 
new  manuscript  contains  part  of  the  first  book  of 
the  work,  and  no  sentence  from  it  appears  in 
Stobaeus,  so  he  may  be  quoting  from  another  book 
by  Hierocles. f 

The  writing,  a  semi-uncial  with  many  abbrevia- 
tions, is  of  the  second  century,  and  so  almost  of  its 
author's  date.  Probably  it  is  a  sort  of  philosophical 
compendium  for  professional  students;  a  kind  of 
summary    of    Stoic    sentiments.       The   part   found 

*  It  is  curious  that  in  my  essay,  "  Recent  Discoveries  in  Classical 
Literature,"  in  1892,  so  much  new  light  had  been  thrown  upon  the 
period  between  the  Persian  and  Peloponnesian  Wars  by  the  new 
found  "Poliorkitika,"  edited  by  Wescher,  as  by  this  new  papyrus  has 
been  done  for  the  subsequent  years.     See  R.  S.  Lit,,  1892. 

f  '  Berliner  Klassikertexte,'  iv,  1906,  <;  Hierocles  Ethisehe 
Elementarlehre,"  papyrus  9780,  nebst  den  bei  Stobaeus  erhaltenen 
Ethischen  excerpten  aus  Hierocles.    H.  von  Arnim  and  W.  Schubart. 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE.     95 

treats  of  the  preliminary  principles  to  be  considered 
before  enlarging  upon  ethical  actions,  sensation, 
perception,  and  consciousness. 

The  editors  add  the  piece  Stobaeus  gives  from 
Hierocles  to  their  edition  of  the  papyrus.* 

The  latest  in  date  of  the  company  of  authors  in 
the  Greek  language  whose  productions  have  in  recent 
years  been  brought  to  light  is  an  Egyptian  poet 
named  Dioscurus,  son  of  Apollos.  He  nourished  at 
Aphrodito,  in  the  Fayoum,  in  the  sixth  century  in  the 
era  of  Justinian  and  Justin  II. 

He  is  not  the  only  tardy  Graeco-Coptic  poet  whose 
effusions  have  been  found  upon  papyri,  because 
a  manuscript  of  another  writer  in  the  Berlin  Museum 
bears  a  panegyrical  poem  upon  a  duke  of  the 
Thebaid  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  a  war 
against  the  Persians. 

A  second  similar  effusion  is  in  the  Berlin  collec- 
tion, and  eulogises  "  John,  son  of  Sarapammon," 
whom  Herr  Wiamowitz  Moellendorff  identifies  with 
the  Prasfectus  Prastorio  Orientis  to  whom  Justinian 
addressed  his  twelth  edict.  A  third  piece  of  this 
kind  is  described  here  as  the  "  Blemyomachia." 
Again,  also,  there  are  fragments  of  a  similar  sort  of 
production  at  Florence. 

But  of  the  efforts  of  Dioscuros  considerably  more 
specimens  have  survived,  indeed,  sufficient  to  enable 
us  to  acquire  a  fair  idea  of  his  style  and  merit. 

Unfortunately  a  close  acquaintance  with  his  verse 
does  not  enhance  his   literary  reputation,  and   this 

*  See  Festa,  "Un  filosofo  Redivivi  Jerocle"  in  '  Atene  e  Roimi,' 
No.  96.  Also  J.  Nicolle,  "  Un  Traite  de  Morale  Paienne  Chretienne. 
Etude  sur  un  Abrege  de  Commentaire  de  Hierocles  MSS.,"  '  Grecque 
de  la  Bibliotheque  de  Geneve.' 


96     REGENT    DISCOVEBIES  OF   CLASSICAL    LITEEATURE. 

result  is  scarcely  surprising  when  it  is  explained  that 
he,  having  been  educated  for  a  barrister,  appears  to 
have  practised  very  unsuccessfully,  and  finally  en- 
deavoured to  eke  out  a  bare  subsistance  by  composing 
adulatory  poems  in  honour  of  the  Dukes  of  the 
Thebaid.* 

In  fact  he  was  a  sort  of  paid  laureate  to  those 
officials,  whose  exactions  from  the  Egyptian  people 
for  the  benefit  of  their  Byzantine  employers  were  the 
curse  of  the  country.  This  statement  as  to  his 
metrical  encomiums  being  composed  for  the  sake  of 
the  emolument  for  their  production  is  not  derived 
from  any  assertion  of  an  enemy,  but  from  words  in 
the  poems  themselves,  for  some  panegyrics  are  com- 
pleted by  demands  for  payment  for  them,  and  the 
mendicant  appeal  excused  by  the  necessity  of  feeding 
a  starving  family. 

Verses  produced  for  such  venal  reasons  were  not 
likely  to  be  specimens  of  poetic  genius.  The  ideas 
are  of  the  poorest,  and  probably  not  original ;  the 
concepts  are  worthless,  and  the  composition  most 
mediocre. 

The  only  personal  phrases  that  stamp  the  com- 
positions as  those  of  their  author  are  the  begging 
demands  for  remuneration  appended  to  almost  each 
production.     The  poems  are  addressed  to  function- 

*  Dioscuros  was  the  poorest  producer  of  imitative  verses  founded 
upon  the  poems  of  Nonnus  of  Panopolis,  lie  having  had  a  number  of 
Egypto-Greek  predecessors,  such  as  Olympiodorus  of  Thebes, 
Claudian  of  Alexandria,  Paniprepios  of  Thebes,  Kolluthos  of 
Lykopolis,  Christodorus  of  Coptos,  and  others  slightly  superior  to 
himself.  Compare  also  the  Ethiopian  poem  in  honour  of  the  Deity 
Mandoulis  published  by  Sayce  and  Weil  in  '  Revue  des  Etudes 
Grecques,'  1884;  and  Gauthier  "Annales"  of  the  Egyptian  depart- 
ment of  Antiquities,  1909. 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITEKATURE.     \> < 

aries  sucli  as  Count  Callimaclms,  the  pagarch 
Ivolloutlios,  and  certain  Dukes  of  the  Thebaic!. 

The  role  of  a  eulogistic  poetaster  was  not  inaugu- 
rated in  Egypt  by  Dioscuros.  He  had  at  least  one  pre- 
decessor, Kolluthos  of  Lykopolis,  and  the  fragments 
of  similar  verses  in  papyri  indicate  that  there  were 
other  poet  competitors  in  the  same  line  of  literature. 

His  style  is  founded  upon  the  Homeric,  as  was, 
at  his  era,  that  of  other  decadent  authors,  such  as 
Nonnus,  the  earliest  and  best  of  them.  Then,  too, 
the  allusions,  however  strained  the  parallelism,  are 
to  Homeric  heroes. 

Though  Callimachus  was  a  Christian,  yet,  as  a 
bridegroom,  he  is  compared  to  Dionysos,  and  his 
bride  to  blonde  Demeter.  Dioscuros'  home  bore  the 
name  of  Aphrodito,  so  the  various  titles  of  the 
goddess  of  love  are  constantly  employed. 

The  Thebaid  becomes  "  the  domain  of  the 
Paphian  Goddess,"  and  even  was  'appoyevaV 

The  verses  are  so  puerile  we  do  not  care  eveu  to 
hope  that  they  are  plagiarised,  but  M.  Jean  Maspero 
has  clearly  proved  a  theft  from  the  "  Anacreontea," 
and  copying  of  Nonnus'  "  Dionysiaca." 

Another  reason  for  the  inferiority  of  his  work  is 
that  in  these  poems  he  uses  the  same  similes  and 
comparisons  of  his  contemporary  heroes,  if  they 
may  so  be  called,  with  certain  denizens  of  Olympos, 
over  and  over  again.  Even  the  same  phrases  are 
re-employed,  one  being,  in  the  remains  we  already 
possess,  repeated  six  times. 

M.  Maspero  points  out  that,  poor  as  are  the 
productions  of  the  successors  of  Nonnus,  in  Dios- 
curos' day  the  style  had  sunk  still  lower.    Invention 


98     RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

was  lost  either  in  subject  or  in  form.  The  vogue 
persisted  for  a  century  and  a  half  after  his  date — 
the  style  is  thai  of  Nonnus,  his  favourite  mythology, 
his  technique,  but  not  his  genius. 

The  appended  short  specimen  will  give  an  idea  of 
Dioscuros  and  his  work. 

"  Etc  Kiovoravrlvov. 
"  Eh]    rv\i]    ttoWi)  KixapiTio/azvi} 
Ty    try   ytvtOX'tri,   fiaaiXiicwvvpz. 
ilpcu  TTVK.aZ,ovmv  iravaypov  xtii   avQiu 
Iv  a'/c  tTtX®ri£>   (*>\ovii<TTa.Tt   ttcivv. 
Ouk  upaXvvu  acrrpov  to   gov  ttot    tic  Qeov 
piirsi  yap  tig  xPylaTaXovC  apyvp!\p.zpzq. 
QaXXuc    zopTtug   EiXarrivatc  tvirptTrzc; 
£v$aip.ovwv,  ati  (ptXairaTog  -navi. 

"  Thou  who  bearest  a  royal  name,  may  thy  birthday  be 
favoured  with  great  rejoicing. 

"The  season  in  which  thou  wast  born  multiplies  the 
flowers  in  the  fields.     Oh  !  most  gracious  of  mankind. 

"  God  does  not  desire  that  thy  star  should  ever  fall.  On 
the  contrary,  it  shines,  giving  prosperity,  bringing  days  of 
wealth. 

"  Thou  shineth  forth  gloriously  amid  feasts  and  banquets, 
laden  with  happiness,  and  everlasting  dear  to  us." 

A  Greek  poem  among  the  manuscripts  at  Berlin, 
written  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  century  by  an 
unknown  author,  was  edited  about  1882  by  Prof. 
Stern,  and  later  by  Weidemann.  Herr  Ludwich  in 
1897  considerably  improved  their  rendering  by  re- 
arranging the  papyrus  fragments. 

It  is  a  sort  of  epic,  almost  entirely  an  imitation  of 
previous  epics  and  a  very  poor  performance,  allied 
to  the  other  late  Egypto-Greek  panegyrical  poems, 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.      99 

relating  to  the  war  with  the  Ethiopian  Blemyes.* 
The  names  for  the  warriors  are  copied  from  those 
of  ancient  heroes  with  the  exception  of  the  Byzan- 
tine-Romano one  of  Germanos. 

'  Papyrus  Oxyrhynchus  '  1085  contains  a  second 
century  text  of  part  of  Pancrates'  poem  upon 
Hadrian  and  Antinons,  four  lines  of  which  were 
already  known  because  quoted  by  Athenaens.  The 
hexameters  give  an  exaggerated  account  of  a  lion 
hunt  in  a  florid  style,  and  do  not  add  to  the  rather 
dubious  praise  awarded  the  author  by  Athenaens. 

The  poem  was  not  apparently  highly  valued  by 
the  owner  of  the  manuscript,  for  this  piece  of  it  had 
been  rolled  up  wrapped  around  the  month  of  a  glass 
bottle. 

'  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus  '  No.  1015  gives  twenty- 
two  practically  perfect  lines  of  a  poem  in  hexa- 
meters, and  appears  to  be  the  actual  draft,  with  im- 
provements and  corrections  to  it  added  by  the  author. 

Twice  on  the  papyrus  a  title  "  Encomium  on 
Hermes"  has  been  inserted,  but  this  has  been 
almost  erased,  and  for  adequate  reason,  because 
really  the  poet's  praise  is  not  for  the  deity,  but  for 
a  young  man  named  Theon,  whose  wealth  and 
generous  use  thereof  had  led  to  his  being,  at  quite 
an  early  age,  elected  to  the  office  of  Gymnasiarch. 
The  first  nine  lines  are,  however,  devoted  to 
Hermes  alone,  and  he  also  is  referred  to  later,  as 
Theon  had  specially  honoured  the  god  by  erecting 
a  fountain  of  oil  for  use  of  athletes  in  the  gymnasium. 
(He  had  also  presented  gifts  of  corn  to  the  citizens.) 

*  Edociae  Augustae,  Procli  Lycii,  Claudiani,  Carminum  Grae- 
eovum,  Blemyomachiae  fragmenta,  rec.  Arth.  Ludwich :  Teubner, 

1897. 


100    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

Previously  the  oil  used  by  the  gymnasts,  the  poet 
tells  us.  had  to  be  brought  by  them  in  flasks.  The 
lines  concerning  Hermes  especially  allude  to  him 
as  deity  of  sports.  Theon  is  hailed  as  "  Interpreter 
of  Hermes,"  but  whether  as  umpire  at  the  games 
by  virtue  of  his  position  as  Grymnasiarch,  or  because 
he  was  a  musician,  or  author,  the  loss  of  the  residue 
of  the  poems  prevents  our  knowing. 

The  verses  do  not  contain  any  recognised  imita- 
tion of  earlier  and  better  work, 

DlDYMUS. 

Among  all  the  precious  portions  of  classic  prose 
authors  restored  to  literature  by  preservation  upon 
papyri  in  the  dry  Egyptian  soil  recently  recovered, 
the  most  important  is  a  volume  of  Didymus'  '  Com- 
mentary upon  the  Philippics  of  Demosthenes.'  * 

It  restores  to  us  part  of  a  work  by  one  of  the 
most  prolific  of  Greek  writers  and  exhibits  to  us 
clearly  the  style  and  manner  of  those  numerous  books 
emanating  from  the  literati  of  Alexandria,  men  who 
easily  and  assiduously  utilised  the  vast  stores  of 
material  available  in  that  city's  immense  library  for 
the  composition  of  lengthy  treatises  upon  the  more 
famous  Greek  authors  of  pre-Roman  times. 

It  also,  as  shall  be  duly  mentioned,  gives  back  to 
us  many  fragments  of  some  most  celebrated 
Hellenic  writers.  The  '  Commentary  '  itself,  too, 
as  will  be  seen,  will  always  be  valued  for  the  opinions 
Didymus  expresses  concerning  Demosthenes  and 
some  of  his  biographers. 

*  H.  Diets  and  W.  Schubart,  '  Didymus'  Commentar  zu  Demos- 
thenes,' 1904.  Some  eight  pages  of  Didymus  were  published  in 
M.  Miller's  '  Melanges  de  Litterature  Greeque,'  1868. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    101 

This  remarkable  manuscript  came  from  Esli- 
muneim,  and  a  note  upon  it  informs  us  that  the 
text  is  part  of  a  work  in  twenty-eight  volumes 
devoted  by  Didymus  to  his  commentary  upon  the 
political  pleadings  of  Demosthenes.  We  can  further 
o'ather  from  the  text  that  the  final  three  volumes  were 

o 

assigned  to  the  "  Philippics  "  and  that  the  papyrus 
gives  the  last  of  the  series. 

Also  that  this,  the  twenty-eighth  book,  treated 
of  the  ninth,  tenth,  eleventh,  and  twelfth  of  the 
Philippics.* 

A  very  interesting  opinion  of  Did^ymus  arises  with 
regard  to  these  four  speeches,  for  although  he  gave 
a  study  upon  each  of  them,  he  refused  to  recognise 
the  eleventh  as  a  genuine  Demosthenic  work,  and 
he  also  proves  that  the  twelth  did  not  originally  form 
part  of  the  Philippics  at  all,  but  he  accepts  it  as 
Demosthenic.  It  is  curious  that  when  condemning 
the  Demosthenic  origin  of  the  eleventh  Philippic, 
Didymus  confirms  his  view  by  quoting  other  critics 
who  agreed  with  him,  and  who  assigned  it  to 
Anaximenes,  but  does  not  add,  as  he  might  have 
done,  that  it  appears  almost  word  for  word  in  that 
writer's  '  History  of  Philip. 'f 

M.  Foucart  considers  that  Didymus  adhered  to 
the  round  dozen  for  the  Philippics  in  order  to 
remain  in  ao-reement  with  Callimachus'  catalogue  of 
the    Alexandrian   Library.     Dionysius    of    Halicar- 

*  These  four  last  of  the  dozen  Philippics  of  Didymus'  categoiy 
correspond  to  the  third  and  fourth  Philipjnes  of  our  modern  editions, 
and  the  answer  to  the  Epistle  of  Philip  and  the  ttiqi  "ZwTaZtwQ. 

f  As  to  Didymus'  ideas  concerning  Philip's  letter  and  the  reply 
and  its  possible  attribution  to  Anaximenes,  see  Paid  Wendland's 
'  Anaximenes  von  Lampsakos.'     Berlin,  li'i 35. 


102    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

aassus  excluded  the  rap*  tswTaizwQ  from  the  series, 
but  he  also  retained  the  number  at  twelve  by  dupli- 
cating the  first. 

The  reference  in  the  new  manuscript  to  the 
previous  part  of  the  'Commentary'  shows  that  the 
first  twenty-five  volumes  were  taken  up  with  the 
political  speeches,  and  so,  as  we  know  from  various 
sources  that  Didymus  also  treated  of  the  civil  ones, 
and  that  in  a  most  voluminous  manner,  these  must 
have  formed  the  basis  of  another  long  series,  com- 
mencingjfor  the  Demosthenic  Corpus,  at  a  volume  29. 

The  literary  composition  of  Didymus'  writings  is 
a  most  interesting  feature  of  the  new  manuscript, 
because,  as  is  well  known,  he  is  stated  to  have  pro- 
duced no  less  than  3500  volumes.  Calculating  upon 
the  length  of  his  life,  and  the  possible  limits  during 
that  period  to  his  literary  activity,  he  must  have 
completed  about  two  volumes  weekly. 

The  newly  found  volume  had  originally  a  text 
amounting  to  some  2000  lines,  which,  taking  a 
general  average  of  his  rate  of  composition,  should 
not  have  occupied  more  than  four  days.  This 
rapidity  of  production  should  provide  signs  of  haste 
in  the  literary  qualities  of  the  Avork,  and  they 
certainly  are  apparent. 

We  must,  however,  suppose,  for  the  style  of  the 
composition  seems  to  disclose  it,  that  Didymus  was 
assisted  by  compilers  and  amanuenses,  who  pre- 
pared, for  reference,  passages  he  had  previously 
annotated,  and  which  were  to  be  utilised  for  the 
treatise  he  was  inditing. 

Probably  he  dictated  the  daily  portion  of  his  task, 
continuing   right    along    with    his    comments    and 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    103 

opinions,  without,  in  most  cases,  pausing  to  verify 
quotations  from  other  writers  illustrating  the  author 
he  was  discussing,  and  substantiating  from  them  the 
views  he  advocated  concerning  him. 

Apparently  these  passages  were  marked  for 
insertion  into  blank  spaces  left  in  the  manuscript 
his  scribe  was  hurriedly  writing,  and  then  copied 
into  it  after  the  master  had  completed  his  daily  task. 

The  reasons  for  thinking  that  this  must  have 
been  much  the  method  adopted  are  patent  on 
perusing  his  work. 

For  instance,  he  makes  an  assertion  concerning 
the  Athenian  revenues,  remarking  that  it  can 
4i  easily  be  proven."  But,  instead  of  the  evidence, 
an  unwritten  space,  sufficient  to  contain  some  ten 
lines  of  text,  has  been  left  in  the  papyrus. 

Probably  the  necessary  citations  were  never  filled 
in  by  Didymus'  scribe,  either  from  neglect  or 
because  he  failed  to  find  the  passage  intended 
for  insertion,  and  the  next  day  found  Didymus 
too  much  occupied  composing  new  matter  to  venture 
to  distract  him  by  asking  for  the  missing  extracts. 
The  omission  to  mention  the  fact  of  Anaximenes 
having  inserted  all  the  last  Philippic  in  his  '  History  ' 
is  another  case  in  point. 

This  systematic  high-speed  process  of  composi- 
tion produced  some  piquant  errors,  which  remain 
in  the  text  owing  to  the  subordinates'  neglect  to 
carefully  revise  what  they  had  inserted  as  illustra- 
tive and  corroborative  of  the  main  argument. 

Thus,  a  series  of  extracts  concerning  an  Athenian, 
named  Aristomenes,  was  by  mistake  augmented  by 
a   further    condensed    patchwork   biography    of    a 


104    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

Thessaliaii  Aristomenes — the  first  person  a  mauvais 
sujet,  the  second  evidently  a  warrior  worthy  of 
Alexander's  army,  in  the  ranks  of  which  he  fought 

with  distinction. 

The  fact  appears  to  be  that,  literary  prodigy  as 
Didymus  undoubtedly  was,  he  was  also  the  product 
of  his  time  and  surroundings.  The  predominating 
cause  of  much  of  the  mediocrity  of  Alexandrian 
literature  was  supererudition,  or  the  pretence  of  it. 

The  favourite  aim  appears  to  have  been  to  enun- 
ciate an  opinion  upon  the  veracity  of  some  former 
author's  statements  and  then  to  substantiate  your 
view  by  accumulating  numerous  similar  views  of 
other  commentators,  or  writers;  or  to  amplify 
the  text  of  the  writer  under  discussion  by  additional 
information  concerning  his  work  gathered  from  all 
available  quarters. 

Scientific  sifting  of  evidence  by  means  of  in- 
scriptions, coins,  old  archives  and  contemporary 
records,  if  such  were  available,  in  fact  the  writing  of 
history  upon  modern  lines,  or  as  perhaps  Varro 
would  have  done,  was  foreign  to  the  fashion  of 
most  of  the  Alexandrian  school,  though  the 
attempt  of  Aristarchus  to  delete  superfluous  lines 
from  Homer  is  an  exception. 

However,  Didymus  evidently  made  the  best  use 
he  could  of  the  vast  supply  of  material  in  Alex- 
andria's libraries,  and  his  habit  of  meandering  into 
paths  of  Greek  history,  to  amplify  the  story  of  events 
merely  alluded  to  by  the  author  he  is  enlarging  upon, 
gives  us  information,  as  perhaps jwas  his  intention, 
that  otherwise  would  have  been  entirely  lost. 

For  example,  of  the  commentary  upon  the  ninth 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    105 

Philippic,  though  the  papyrus  preserves  only  some 
twenty-five  lines,  these  record  facts  but  little  con- 
cerned with  the  speech. 

In  the  '  De  Corona '  allusion  is  made  to  two 
expeditions  which  Demosthenes  had  induced  his 
hearers  to  direct  against  tyrants  who  were  oppres- 
sing Oreos  and  Eretria,  These  events,  however,, 
took  place  subsequently  to  the  oration,  but  their 
results  had  been  most  beneficial  to  the  people 
of  the  cities,  and  so  were  proofs  of  the  advantage 
to  be  derived  from  following  Demosthenes'  advice. 

Thus,  as  it  was  good  matter  to  utilise  for  en- 
larging upon,  the  final  paragraph  of  the  ninth 
Philippic,  Didymus  thought  suitable  for  his  com- 
mentary, and  therefore  describes  the  episodes  of  the 
expeditions  themselves  and  their  consequences. 

It  is  impossible  here  to  give  even  a  resume  of  all 
new  information  derivable  from  this  mutilated 
volume.  Some  of  the  most  important  matters  are, 
however,  Didymus'  assumption  that  the  tenth  and 
twelfth  Philippics,  after  ample  sifting  of  the  evi- 
dence, are  by  Demosthenes,  his  discussion  of  the 
true  date  for  the  tenth  Philippic  and  his  carrying 
back  of  the  date  for  the  Uepl  2in-rd£;scuc  to  the  archon- 
ship  of  Callimachus  ;  also  stories  as  to  Aristomenes 
of  Athens.  Then  there  is  the  value  of  his  numerous 
citations  from  Demosthenes  for  restoring  that 
orator's  text. 

The  quantity  of  Demosthenic  passages  quoted  is 
smaller  than  would  have  been  anticipated  judging* 
by  what  we  previously  possessed  as  specimens  of 
Didymus'  works.  For  this  one  differs  remarkably 
from  them,  especially  from  the  portions  surviving 

vol.  xxxi.  8 


106    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

of  his  commentary  upon  the  '  Contra  Aristocratem.' 
For  the  new  treatise  is  not  a  running  review  of 
almost  the  whole  text,  including  grammatical  and 
philological  questions,  but  rather  a  selection  of 
certain  matter  in  the  speeches  upon  which  Didymus 
thought  he  could  throw  new  light,  and  which  he 
considered  had  been  erroneously  treated  of  by 
previous  specialists. 

These  few  passages  he  enlarged  upon  at  con- 
siderable length,  giving  all  the  new  evidence 
concerning  them  he  deemed  illustrative.  This 
commentary  was  not  intended  for  students,  or 
pedagogues,  but  for  the  ordinary  citizen,  who  in 
his  short  leisure  desired  to  properly  appreciate  the 
great  orator's  pleadings.  Didymus  had  probably 
dealt  with  many  of  the  subjects  incidental  to  these 
three  last  Philippics*  in  other  volumes  of  his  work, 
or  in  other  books,  or  he  may  have  known  that  they 
had  been  adequately  discussed  by  other  and  easily 
accessible  writers.  With  regard  to  the  twelfth 
Philippic,  the  new  manuscript  distinctly  explains 
that  Didymus  had  treated  of  many  items  of  it  in  the 
preceding  volumes  of  this  very  work. 

In  another  way,  however,  the  style  selected  by 
Didymus  for  his  composition  was  an  ideal  one  for 
us,  because  it  preserves  for  posterity  extracts  from 
many  of  the  classic  annalists  and  historians,  enabling 
us  to  form  an  opinion  of  their  works  ;  as  they  are 

*  At  the  Berlin  Academy  Seance  on  Jnne  17th,  1909,  Ed.  Meyer 
explained  much  more  fully  the  second  Philippic  and  the  letter  of 
Isocrates  to  Philip,  clearing  up  Diodorus'  account  of  the  King's 
wound  in  the  Illyrian  War,  and  accurately  fixing  the  dates.  See 
also  F.  Staehlin,  -Die  Griechischen  Historiker  Fragmente  hei 
Didymus,"  in  '  Beitrage  zum  Alten  Geschichte,'  vol.  v. 


■RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    107 

always  named,  and  also  when  cited  their  work 
specified,  the  attributions  are  positive. 

The  new  papyrus  excels  the  '  Politeia  '  of  Aristotle 
in  the  number  and  value  of  these  excerpts  from  lost 
authors  of  the  first  class.  There  are,  among  others, 
seven  passages  from  the  i//(Xt7T7r(«:a  of  Theopompus  of 
considerable  length.  Four  from  Anaximenes.  One 
of  no  less  than  twenty  lines  from  an  unknown  work 
of  Callisthenes  upon  Hermias.  Several  from  Douris, 
whom  Didynras  valued  highly,  also  from  Bryon, 
Hermippos,  and  Marsyas,  A  very  large  piece  is 
given  out  of  Demon's  book  upon  the  mythical  and 
historical  origin  of  proverbs. 

Of  much  interest  is  the  part  of  the  oldest  of  the 
Amphictionic  Decrees  hitherto  extant,  and  long 
extracts  from  Philochorus  and  Androtion,  connected 
with  a  discussion  upon  the  date  of  certain  archon- 
ships.  Those  from  Philochorus  are  sufficient  to 
afford  a  fair  sample  of  his  work,  and  show  it  to  have 
been  a  sort  of  chronicle. 

Poets  and  dramatists  are  occasionally  quoted, 
especially  Philemon  and  Timocles.  The  reference 
to  the  first  gives  as  a  title  of  an  hitherto  unknown 
play  of  his,  "  The  Stone  Carvers,"  for  sculptors.  He 
also  preserves  for  us  lines  from  the  "  Eleusinians  "  of 
Aeschylus,  and  "  Shepherds  "  of  Sophocles.* 

Although  the  number  of  papyri  containing  remains 

*  In  an  article  on  Didyinus'  new  text  in  '  Revue  de  Philologie ' 
for  1907,  it  is  suggested  that  the  work  is  a  sort  of  "  Thesaurus 
Deniosthenicus,"  and  really  almost  all  quotations  from  authors,  and 
not  original  work  by  Didymus.  Herren  Diels  and  Schubart  in  their 
editio  princeps  also  give  a  fragment  of  another  papyrus,  No.  5008  of 
Berlin,  which  preserves  part  of  a  Lexicon  by  Didymus,  founded  upon 
the  speech  against  Aristocrates.  It  was  first  edited  by  Blass  in 
"  Hermes/' 


108    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF  CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

of  classical  literature  found  during  the  last  half 
century  lias  been  so  great,  it  was  not  until  1905  that 
a  manuscript  embellished  by  illustrations  was  repro- 
duced in  facsimile. 

This  was  the  now  celebrated  '  World  Chronicle,' 
edited  by  Bauer  and  Strzygowski.*  This  manuscript 
presents  a  work  of  such  curious  character,  and  also 
one  intimately  connected  with  several  other  codices 
previously  extant,  that  to  appreciate  properly  its 
character  a  summary  of  its  contents  is  necessary. 
AYhen  found,  it  was  torn  into  between  seventy  and 
eighty  pieces,  which  have  been  carefully  readjusted 
and  reduced  to  about  thirty  fragments.  The  re- 
constitution  was  effected  by  the  indefatigable 
industry  of  Herr  Bauer,  who  was  aided  sometimes 
in  the  task  by  the  miniatures  indicating  the  correct 
positions  for  many  of  the  pieces  of  the  papyrus, 
The  first  column  presents  the  names  of  the  seasons 
apportioned  to  the  twelve  Roman  months.  These 
are  pictorially  personified  by  women  bearing  in 
their  hands  specimens  in  baskets  of  the  fruits  of  the 
earth. 

Upon  the  verso  of  this  part  of  the  papyrus  are 
lists  of  the  months  according  to  the  Egyptian, 
Hebrew  and  Attic  calendars.  The  second  column 
M.  Seymour  de  Ricci  entitles  a  Ata^tEpj^ot,-  It  first 
gives  a  list  of  the  islands  forming  Ham's  portion  at 
the  division  of  the  world  among  Noah's  sons.  Then 
come  the  provinces  of  Ham,  each  represented  by  a 
miniature  building  with  the  province  name  inscribed 

*  '  Eine  Alexandrinische  Weltchronik.'  -  Text  und  Miniaturen 
ernes  Griechischen  Papyrus  des  Sauimlung  W.  Golenischef  Adolf 
Bauer  uud  Josef  Strzygowski,  8  Doppeltafeln  mid  36  Abbilduugeu. 
Wien :  Gerold,  1905. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    109 

beneath,  somewhat  similar  to  the  plan  carried  out 
in  the  celebrated  Madaba  mosaic  map,  and  the 
Peutinger  Roman  map. 

Then  follow  the  names  of  the  Messianic  prophets, 
of  which  but  three  of  the  figures  remain — those  for 
Obadiah,  Joel  and  Nahum.  Now  similar  enumera- 
tions of  these  prophets  are  contained  in  the  '  Paschal 
Chronicle  '  and  the  Alexandrian  author  Cosmos 
Indicopleustes.* 

This  series  of  Messianic  seers  coming  to  light  again 

o  o  o 

in  this  very  early  papyrus  is  another  confirmation  of 
the  view  of  Professor  Rendel  Harris  and  others,  that 
the  very  earliest  Christian  apologists  and  writers, 
even  perhaps  St.  Matthew,  had  such  a  corpus  of 
the  Hebrew  prophets,  citing  their  statements  con- 
cerning the  Messiah  alone,  selected  from  amongst 
their  more  complete  writings. 

The  Golenischef  manuscript  then  gives  a  list  of 
the  Roman  Kings,  and  those  of  Macedonia  and 
Lydia.  Finally,  the  part  still  undestroyed  presents 
a  chronicle,  or  annals,  for  the  years  383  to  392  a.d. 
Fortunately  this  page  of  the  papyrus  is  the  best  in 
condition.  Of  this  historical  matter  there  are  fifty- 
five  lines.  These  designate  each  year,  first  by  that 
of  the  '  Era  of  the  Martyrs,'  then  enumerate  the 
consuls,  and  lastly  the  Egyptian  Prefect,  and  that  of 
Alexandria. 

These  are  amplified  by  memorable  events  of  each 
month,  and  often  of  days  according  to  the  Roman 
calendar.       The    nature  of    the    list    of  notabilities 

*  Professor  Winstedt  lias  recently  shown  that  the  writer  who 
assumed  this  title  is  the  first  to  mention  a  myth  indicating  the  pre- 
sence of  petroleum  on  an  island  in  the  Red  Sea. 


110    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   <>F   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

inserted  and  the  general  contents  of  the  fifty  lines 
remaining  of  this  annalistic  or  chronicle  part  of  the 
papyrus  show  beyond  doubt  that  it  is  an  Alex- 
andrine composition. 

But  more  than  that,  they  connect  the  work 
with  other  literature  the  ancients  have  bequeathed 
to  us.  For  M.  de  Ricci  and  Herr  Bauer  have 
been  able  to  show  a  great  similarity  between  this 
chronicle  and  a  document  known  since  Scaliger's 
time,  called  now  the  "  Excerpta  Barbari,"  and  also 
with  a  more  recently  found  work,  the  "  Festal 
Epistles  of  Athanasius,"  published  in  1848  by  Dr. 
Cureton.  For  the  only  real  divergence  between 
the  new  work  and  the  "  Excerpta  "  is  that  the  latter 
does  not  use  the  "  Era  of  the  Martyrs." 

The  Golenischef  papyrus  is  identical  with  what 
the  original  Greek  of  the  '  Excerpta  '  must  have 
been.  Of  this  work  the  best  codex  has  been  the 
Latin  "  Pnteanus,"  now  in  Paris;  but  considerable 
portions  of  a  Greek  version  have  been  found  at 
Madrid  and  Vienna.  With  the  aid  of  these  texts 
Herr  Frick  had  even  re-translated  the  Latin  back 
into  what  he  detected  was  the  parent  Greek.  The 
new  illustrated  papyrus  now  restores  some  of  the 
original  Greek. 

The  Epistles,  or  letters,  of  Athanasius,  which  are 
evidently  derived  from  the  same  sources  as  the 
papyrus  matter,  if  not  perhaps  the  same  author,  are 
only  known  in  a  Syriac  version.*     It  gives  for  each 

*  E.  Schwartz  thought  Athanasius'  scribe  utilised  the  "  Ephe- 
merides  "  of  the  Alexandrian  Patriarchate ;  but  the  new  discovery- 
decides  that  it  was  some  more  lay  chronology  that  provided  his  infor- 
mation. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    Ill 

letter's    date    the   names    of    the    Consul    and    the 
Egyptian  Angustal,  and  the  Alexandrian  prefect. 

In  the  kind  of  annalistic  introduction  to  Athanasius* 
work  is  an  Alexandrian  chronicle  for  the  years  328 
to  373,  taken  from  some  chronographer  of  Egypt 
using  Alexandrian  data,  and  also  copying  a  treatise 
clearly  similar  to  the  "  Excerpta  Barbari,"  and  this 
G-olenischef  text.  Now  the  triplet  of  works  complete 
each  other,  for  the  '  Festal  Epistles  '  cover  the  period 
a.d.  328  to  373  ;  then  the  "  Excerpta  Barbari"  does 
so  for  367  to  384,  whilst  the  G-olenischef  papyrus 
embraces  the  period  383  to  392.  For  the  years 
when  the  two  last  documents  are  in  duplicate  their 
wording  is  almost  identical. 

The  whole  of  these  works  can  be  further  illus- 
trated by  comparing  part  of  their  information  with 
the  constitution  of  Theodosius'  Code  and  other 
sources. 

The  chief  interest  and  value  of  the  Golenischef 
papyrus  lies  in  its  illustrations,  because  it  is  the 
first  manuscript  upon  this  material  bearing  such  a 
series  of  Christian  vignettes,  although  a  few  frag- 
ments of  papyri,  both  Greek  and  Coptic,  with  one 
or  more  pictures  are  known,  and  of  course,  the  old 
Egyptian  religious  books  bore  hundreds  of  vignettes 
and  even  tableaux.* 

Although  it  is  not  actually  an  instance  of  the 
recovery  of  lost  classic  literature,  there  is  one 
manuscript  which  has  restored  the  hitherto  missing 
version  of  a  work  in  the  language  in  which  that  work 
was  originally  composed,  and  so  deserves  record. 

*  For  M.  Seymour  de  Ricce's  views  see  "  Un  Chronique  Alexan- 
drine sur  Papyrus,"  '  Revue  Archeologique,'  1908,  108-116. 


112    KECENT    DISCOVERIES  OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

'Plus  is  a  piece  of  papyrus  giving  two  long 
columns  of  the  Greek  text  of  the  "  Trojan  War," 
by  Dictys  Cretensis,  which  is  numbered  as  268  of 
the  'Tebtunis  Papyri,'  and  is  dated  by  specialists 
;is  having  been  written  very  early  in  the  third 
century. 

As  is  well  known,  the  Latin  version  which  we 
have  of  this  book,  by  a  certain  Septimius,  states  in 
its  preface  that  the  original  writer,  Dictys,  wrote  it 
in  the  Phoenician  language  upon  strips  of  lime- 
wood,  or  lime-tree  bark.  It  was  then  deposited  in 
his  tomb  (or  in  that  of  his  friend  Idomeneus)  at 
Cnossos,  and  found  therein  in  the  time  of  Nero,  and 
then  translated  into  Greek.* 

This  was  rendered  into  Latin  by  Prasis,  and 
again  by  Septimius.  Although  numerous  and 
lengthy  quotations  from  this  work,  in  Greek,  are  to 
be  found  in  Malalas,  Cedrenus,  and  an  unknown 
author  of  the  'E/cAoyr/  'ioTopuLv.  Meister,  who  re- 
edited  the  '  Bellum  Troianum '  in  1872,  refused 
belief  in  a  Greek  precursor  of  the  Latin  '  Dictys,' 
whilst  twenty  years  later  Noack  took  the  opposite 
view. 

This  papyrus  shows  that  Noack  was  correct,  and, 
moreover,  proves  that  Malalas  and  the  Byzantine 
compilers  quoted  direct  from  the  Greek  version. 
Finally,  it  carries  back  the  date  of  the  Greek  to 
about  the  first  century. 

Perhaps  the  most  desired  to  be  redeemed  from 
its  hiding-place  of  the  Euripiclean  dramas  has  been 
the  "  Hypsipyle,"  some  account  of  which  has  been 

*  See  also  Ihm,  "Die  Gviechische  imd  Lateinische  Dictys," 
4  Hermes,'  1909,  pp.  1-23. 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    113 

given  in  a  scholion  to  Clement  of  Alexandria.  In 
Part  6  of  the  '  Oxyrhynclras  Papyri '  of  Grenfell 
and  Hunt,  the  volume  issued  in  1908,  they  were 
able  to  publish  a  papyrus  containing  a  considerable 
portion  of  this  play.* 

Most  of  the  text  is  in  an  extremely  bad  condition, 
but  there  is  a  goodly  number  of  passages  fairly 
comprehensible,  and  the  acquisition  to  our  store  of 
classical  literature  is  a  notable  one.  Paleographers 
assign  the  date  of  the  manuscript  to  the  end  of  the 
second  century  a.d. 

We  knew  from  part  of  the  prologue  for  this  play, 
preserved  in  Aristophanes'  "  Frogs,"  that  it  was 
spoken  by  the  heroine,  who  in  it  recounted  part  of 
her  career  previous  to  the  drama's  action.  How 
when  in  danger  of  death  at  Lemnos  she  escaped  to 
a  ship,  the  captain  of  which  sold  her  as  a  slave  at 
Nauplia,  and  she  became  nurse  to  the  child  of 
Lycurgus  and  Eurydice  at  Nemea. 

The  papyrus  gives  us  the  following  among  the 
characters  in  the  play,  viz.  Hypsipyle,  her  two  sons, 
Euneos  and  Thoas,  Amphiaraos,  Eurydice,  Lycurgus, 
and  Dionysos. 

The  first  column  now  found,  probably  originally 
the  third  in  the  manuscript,!  introduces  us  to 
Hypsipyle  singing  to  her  little  charge  at  a  moment 
when  two  young  men  appear,  these  evidently  her 
sons,  though  unrecognised.  The  heroine's  song  is 
continued  in  the  next  fragment,  and  in  it,  and,  indeed, 

*  Five  lines  from  a  papyrus  published  in  the  second  volume  of 
the  Amherst  Collection  are  from  the  "  Skiron  "  of  Euripides ;  one 
was  already  known  from  Stobaeus. 

t  The  editors  have  so  placed  this  column ;  but  some  scholars  think 
it  should  come  much  later  in  the  play. 


114    LiECENT   DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

in  all  her  subsequent  speeches  almost,  she  refers  to 
the  beautiful  vessel  on  which  sailed  the  Argonauts. 
So  also  does  a  shadow  seem  to  rest  upon  the  speakers 
of  the  impending-  doom  of  the  Seven  who  attacked 
Thebes. 

After  another  chant  by  Hypsipyle  the  chorus 
recite  the  adventures  of  Europa  and  of  To,  and 
console  Hypsipyle  with  the  promise  of  an  equally 
fortunate  career. 

The  next  piece  contains  her  sorrowful  recital  of 
her  present  misfortunes  as  a  slave,  while  still  sing-ino- 
to  sooth  the  child. 

The  Dorian  chief,  Amphiaraos,  now  arrives  upon 
the  scene,  and  the  lady  inquires  of  him  as  to  affairs 
in  his  country  and  the  cause  of  his  joining  the 
Theban  expedition.  He  asked  Hypsipyle  to  show 
him  a  running  spring  at  which  to  sacrifice ;  she, 
either  to  draw  water  for  him,  or  perhaps  to  indicate 
the  spot,  laid  down  Eurydice's  child,  which  was 
killed  by  a  serpent.  Much  of  this  text  is  lost, 
but  Hypsipyle's  agonised  appeal  for  mercy  to  the 
bereaved  mother,  undoubtedly  the  acme  of  the 
tragedy,  is  in  almost  perfect  state. 

So  also  is  her  call  upon  Amphiaraos  to  prove  it 
was  an  accident,  and  not  a  plot  of  hers  to  deprive 
Lvcurgus  of  an  heir. 

Much  of  the  explanation  of  the  occurrence  given 
by  Amphiaraos  to  Eurydice  is  legible,  but  Eury- 
dice's reply  is  almost  all  lost. 

Finally,  some  fragments  apparently  refer  to  the 
sons  of  Hypsipyle,  and  also  clearly  disclose  the 
arrival  of  Dionysos  upon  the  scene.  Many  matters 
concerning  the  contents  of  this  play  and  Euripides' 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    115 

treatment  of  Hypsipyle's  story,  of  which  later  at 
Athens  there  appear  to  have  existed  two  variant 
versions,  cannot  even  be  alluded  to  here.  The 
wonderful  restoration  to  us  of  so  much  of  it  will 
provide  material  for  scholars  for  many  years  to 
come.* 

A  vase,  published  some  eighty  years  ago  by 
Gerhard,  shows  Hypsipyle,  Lurydice,  Amphiaraos, 
and  Euneos  and  Thoas  all  together,  which  does  not 
agree,  as  far  as  we  can  detect,  with  any  contem- 
porary position  occupied  by  these  characters  in  the 
scenes  fairly  appreciable  in  the  papyrus,  because 
Amphiaraos  apparently  departed  before  the  sons 
came  on  the  stage.  But  vase  painters  frequently  to 
"  fill  up  "  a  picture  introduced  members  of  a  drama 
as  together  at  an  incident  therein  who  in  reality 
were  not  set  forth  by  the  author  as  all  taking  part 
on  the  occasion. 

Latin  literary  papyri  have  been  found  much  less 
frequently  than  Greek,  and  so,  when  in  1904  Part  4 
of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri '  contained  a  long 
Latin  epitome  of  some  of  the  books  of  Livy  it  was  a 
welcome  novelty  in  the  annual  harvest. 

The  text  gives  us  part  of  eight  columns  of  writing, 
and  the  summary  strictly  follows  the  chronological 
order.  For  reasons  given  by  Drs.  Grenfell  and 
Hunt  the  manuscript  is  certainly  a  third  century 
one  and  so  it  has  considerable  paleographical  value. 

Its  chief  importance  is,  that  whilst  giving  a 
resume  of  Livy,  books  37  to  40,  which  are  extant,  it 
also  epitomises  the  lost  books  48  to  55,  of  which  pre- 

*  See  Wessely,  "Hypsipyle  ein  Dramer  von  Euripides,"  Wiener 
'  Urania,'  1908. 


11(5    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

viously  we  possessed  another  epitome  differing 
almost  /'//  toto  in  plan  from  the  papyrus  one.  The 
period  covered  also  is  one  for  which  no  other  good 
historian  has  yet  been  available,  only  some  frag- 
ments of  Polybius  and  the  poor  productions  of 
Appian  and  Valerius  Maximus,  Florus  and  Orosius 
and  Eutropius  being  of  use. 

The  period  included  is  from  B.C.  150-137,  embrac- 
ing the  third  Punic,  fourth  Macedonian,  Achean, 
and  Spanish  wars  ;  and  the  information  given  is  a 
great  deal  more  ample  than  in  the  former  known 
epitome.  The  most  valuable  of  the  new  matter 
concerns  the  Spanish  campaigns  against  Viriathus, 
new  battles  and  events  being  mentioned,  and  the 
succession  of  the  Roman  Governors  in  Southern 
Spain  for  these  years  is  now  quite  clear. 

Many  dates  for  interesting  events  at  Rome  also 
occur,  such  as  that  for  the  accusation  against  L.  Aure- 
lius  Cotta  made  by  Scipio  Africanus.  M.  Salomon 
Reinach  noticed  a  curious  statement  concerning 
Mummius,  who  sacked  Corinth. 

"  Signa  statuas  tabulas  Corinthias  L.  Mummius 
distribuit  circa  oppida,  et  Romam  (orna)  vit "  (lines 
08  and  69). 

Reading  "  L.  Mummius  distributed  among"  certain 
Italian  cities  some  of  the  statues  and  paintings  taken 
from  Corinth  and  embellished  Rome  witli  the  re- 
mainder." Thus  Mummius  was  not  the  barbaric 
destroyer  careless  of  the  value  of  the  works  of 
Greek  masters  that  he  has  been  depicted.  Pliny 
wrote  "  Mummius  Achaia  devicta  replevit  urbem." 

Another  result  of  the  finding;  of  this  text  is  that 
it  reveals  to  us  quotations  from  these  books  of  Livy 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    117 

by  Dion  Oassius,  Valerius  Maximus,  Frontinus  and 

Obsequens. 

Probably  because  of  the  unusual  length  of  the 
text  and  its  excellent  condition  and  interest  of  the 
subject  the  editors  of  the  '  Berlin  Corpus  '  of  new 
classical  works  selected  for  their  second  volume  the 
commentary  upon  the  "  Theaetetus  "  of  Plato  found 
at  Hermopolis.* 

The  writing  is  particularly  good,  and  there  are 
seventy  complete  narrow  columns  of  it  referring  to 
pp.  142-153  of  the  "  Theaetetus,"  and  also  some 
broken  fragments  relating  to  pp.  157-158.  As 
usual  with  a  rolled-up  papyrus,  the  commencement 
and  end  are  destroyed  and  so  the  author's  name  has 
perished.  But  it  is  a  costly  manuscript,  and  so  may 
have  been  by  a  well-known  writer. 

The  commentary  itself,  it  must  with  regret  be 
acknowledged,  is  of  but  little  value.  The  new  evidence 
it  affords  as  to  Plato's  text  is  meagre,  but  it  tends  to 
substantiate  the  readings  of  the  Vindobonensis. 

In  the  library  of  the  Egyptian  University  at 
Cairo  there  is  a  piece  of  a  papyrus  roll  presented 
about  1909  by  M.  Adolph  Cattaui,  bearing  uncial 
writing  which,  though  faded,  is  fairly  legible. 

The  text  has  been  proved  to  be  a  portion  of  -a 
treatise  upon  various  forms  of  pa^a,  that  is  to 
say  the  humorous  discharges  contemporary  to,  or 
following,  ophthalmia,  and  their  treatment  by 
means  of  incisions  into  the  skin  of  the  frontal 
cranium. 

*  Berliner  Klassikertexte  II,'  "  Anonymer  Kommentar  zu  Platon's 
Theaetet,"  Berlin,  1905 ;  also  the  facsimile,  "  Plato  Theatets  Papy- 
rus," 19,  Lichdruck  Tafel. 


US    RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

The  sentences  preserved  in  this  papyrus  have 
been  traced  to  the  second  book  of  the  XtipovpyoufAtva 
of  Heliodorus,  who  practised  at  Alexandria  in  the 
reign  of  Trajan. 

The  process  advised  by  Heliodorus,  in  the  text, 
is  to  make  incisions  into  the  cuticle  of  the  skull — a 
practice  still  followed  in  Egypt. 

The  operation  was  performed  in  two  ways — with 
the  aid  of  sutures,  kutu  Sitov,  or  by  merely  leaving  the 
wound  to  close  of  itself,  Kara  awaucKwaiv.  Helio- 
dorus advocates  this  method  as  not  liable  to  pro- 
duce a  permanent  scar,  quoting  an  opinion  in  its 
favour  of  Heracleides.  This  process  was  called 
"  Periscythismus."  It  is  followed  by  another, 
"  Hypospathismns,"  but  the  commencement  of  its 
instruction  is  destroyed.  The  loss  is  not  serious 
because  we  have  a  record  of  the  method  in  Philo- 
xenus. 

The  '  Corpus  of  Greek  Medical  Writers,'  now 
being  published  in  Germany,  commenced,  for  its 
first  volume,  with  a  new-found  book  that  had  been 
hidden  in  the  Vatican  library  by  a  writer  somewhat 
later  than  Galen,  named  '  Philoumenos.'* 

His  work  is  entitled  '  De  venenatis  animalibus.' 
It  is  chiefly  a  compilation,  the  quotations  being 
largely  from  Oribasius,  Aelius-Promotus,  some  of 
these  from  works  of  his  yet  inedited,  Paulus  Aeo-ineta, 
and  '  Aetius  of  Amida,'  including  extracts  from  the 
hitter's  thirteenth  book,  which  is  new  to  scholars. 

Among  the  papyri  already  published  which  are 
in  the  Rylands  collection  at  Manchester  is  a  codex 

*  *  Philunieni  de  venenatis  animalibus  eorunique  remediis.'     Ex 
codice  Vaticano,  prinnm  edidit  Maximilianus  Wellmann. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    119 


of  eight  leaves  bearing  a  treatise  entitled  HEPI 
F1AAMQN  MANTIKH,  indicating,  as  is  the  case,  that 
it  concerns  prognostications,  derivable  from  move- 
ments, such  as  twitchings  and  throbbings  of  the  body. 
Part  of  a  similar  work  on  papyrus  has  previously 
been  edited  by  Signor  Vitelli  in  the  Italian  journal 
'  Atene  and  Roma,'  and  subsequently  by  Diels,* 
though  their  title  seems  to  have  been  merely  '  tt.o'i 
TraA^or.'  This  book  apparently  was  known  to 
Artemidorus  from  what  he  writes  in  his  '  Oneiro- 
critica,'  but  it  is  much  more  closely  connected 
Avith  the  '  vaXfXbiv  fiavriKti '  of  Melampus,  who  gives 
many  omens  from  observations  of  the  same 
movements. 

Part  of  his  treatise  may  be  found  in  the  '  Scrip- 
tures Physiognomic  Veteres.'  Melampus  alleges 
that  much  of  his  knowledge  was  derived  from 
Egyptian  sources,  and  these  papyri  may  represent 
some  of  these. 

But  the  similar  matter  in  the  '  Oneirocritica '  of 
Artemidorus  has  been  definitely  traced  by  M.  Alfred 
Boissier  to  the  augural  omens  and  divinatory 
cuneiform  tablets  of  Babylonia,  whose  magic  and 
medicine  were  more  closely  interwoven  than  those 
in  any  other  old-world  culture. 

The  summary  will  not  be  complete  unless  some 
record  is  given  of  the  smaller  papyri  containing 
medical  works.     Individually  they  are  slight  pieces, 

*  In  the  Abtheilungen  of  the  Royal  Prussian  Academy,  1907-8.  The 
subject  of  ancient  treatises  upon  this  class  of  omens  is  also  studied 
in  an  essay  by  Mr.  S.  Grant  Oliphant  in  the  '  American  Journal  of 
Philology,'  1910,  pp.  206,  etc.  He  states  that  Melampus'  work  was 
supposed  to  have  been  dedicated  to  Ptolemy  Philadelphia,  and  that 
the  author  was  an  Egypto-Greek. 


L20    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

but   collectively  deserve  consideration  for  the  light 
they  afford  upon  ancient  medical  lore. 

An  active  worker  in  this  classic  field  has  been 
Herr  Kalbfleisch,  who  some  few  years  ago  summoned 
up  the  contents  of  the  medical  papyri  at  Berlin  and 
London  in  a  treatise  entitled  '  Papyri  Graecae  Musei 
Britannici  et  Berolinensis.' 

In  this  the  famous  London  papyrus  of  Menon's 
"Iatrica"  *  is  partly  completed  by  the  addition  of  a 
number  of  fragments  acquired  subsequent  to  the 
first  edition's  issue.  In  the  second  yearly  volume 
of  the  'Archiv  fur  Papyrus  forschung  '  a,  papyrus 
at  Geneva  treating  upon  surgery  is  described.  It  is 
a  kind  of  catechism  for  medical  students,  containing 
questions  and  answers  concerning  surgical  opera- 
tions. There  are  only  some  twenty  defective  lines, 
but  several  new  medical  terms  are  used. 

In  editing  a  papyrus  Rescript  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
Dr.  F.  G.  Kenyon  referred  to  a  medical  text  upon 
its  recto.  This  is  fragmentary  and  little  legible. 
It  commences  with  a  description  of  the  human 
body,  and  proceeds  to  discuss  wav/aa,  rootfn,',  and 
airofpood.  The  latest  author  quoted  is  Alexander 
Philalethes  of  the  first  century,  and  Galen  is  not 
mentioned,  therefore  Dr.  Kenyon  assigns  the  work 
itself  to  the  first  century. 

Herr  Wellmann  has  published  in  his  '  Die  Frag- 
mente  sammlung  der  Griechischen  Aertze  '  a  number 
of  extracts  from  Sicilian  medical  writers  culled  from 
odd  manuscripts  of  later  authors.  The  chief  writers 
cited  are  Akron,  Diodes  of  Karystos,  and  Philistion. 

*  Herr    Crouert   ascribes   the    British    Museum    manuscript    to- 
Heliodorus. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    121 

Herr  Kalbfleisch  has  also  edited  the  medical  papyri 
at  Strassbourg,  '  Papyri  Argentoratenses  Graecae.' 
One  of  these  treats  of  remedies  for  eye  diseases,  and 
should  be  compared  with  the  long  list  of  collyria 
derivable  from  the  two  hundred  or  more  known 
oculist  seals. 

Another  manuscript  gives  five  columns  of  a  treatise 
upon  fevers.  The  author  seems  to  be  subsequent  to 
Celsus,  and  may  be  Agathimes  of  Lacedemon. 
The  subject  of  these  medical  texts  has  been  reviewed 
from  time  to  time  by  Herr  Backstrom  in  the 
'Archiv  fi'ir  Papyrusforschung';  his  papers  are  called 
"  Fragment  einer  Medizinischer  Schrift."  Also  by 
Herr  libera  in  the  German  '  Year-Book  for  Classical 
Studies  for  1904,'  and  in  a  work  by  Herr  G. 
Schmidt,  '  De  Anonymi  Laurembergiani  Introduc- 
tions Anatomica.'  * 

The  classic  of  whose  works  by  far  the  greatest 
quantity  of  remains  have  been  recovered  daring  the 
last  fifteen  years  is  the  play- writer  Menander,  and 
such  was  his  popularity  among  all  classes  of  readers 
that  there  is  reasonable  hope  that  still  more  texts  of 
his  comedies  will  be  found.  In  1897  M.  Nicole 
published  some  ninety  lines  from  his  "  Georgos  " 
(Husbandman). 

The  Geneva  piece  of  the  '  Georgos  '  has  been 
made  the  most  of  by  Henri  Weil,  utilising  the 
Oxford  edition  of  Grenfell  and  Hunt.  In  notes  upon 
the  twenty  lines  of  the  monologue  he  shows  that  it 
is  the  youth,  Gorgias,  who  recites  this  exposition  of 

*  See  also  "  Griechsche  Papyri  Medizinischen  mid  Naturwissen- 
scb.aftlicb.en  Inhalts  bearbeitet,"  von  K.  Kalbfleisch  und  H.  Schone, 
'  Berliner  Klassikertexte,'  3  Heft.     Also  Sudhoff,   K.,  "  Aerzliches 
aus  Griechischen  Papyruskunden,"  Leipsig,  Bartl,  1909. 
VOL.    XXXI.  9 


122    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

the  state  of  affairs  at  the  opening  of  the  play,  and 
not  a  woman,  as  readers  of  Quintilian  misconceived 
him  to  say,  for  it  is  now  evident  his  following  passage 
implied  it  was  spoken  by  a  young  man. 

He,  rebuking  barristers  for  being  mimics,  wrote  : 
••('urn  mihi  comoedi  quoque  pessime  facere  vide- 
antur  quod  etiamsi  juvenem  agant,  cum  tamen  in 
expositione  aut  senis  sermo,  ut  in  Hydriae  prologo, 
aut  mulieris  ;  ut  in  Georgo,  incidit,  tremula  vel 
fffeminata  voce  pronunciant." 

Weil  gives  two  scenes  complete,  and  a  few  lines 
of  a  third.  In  1910  Dr.  A.  S.  Hunt,  in  the  seventh 
part  of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,'  published  about 
fifty  lines  from  the  "  MiaoiVui'og."  The  attribution  is 
proved  by  the  character  in  this  comedy.  Other 
names  in  the  fragment  are  Getas,  a  slave,  Crateia, 
Demeas,  and  Kleimas.  Shortly  after  this  the 
editors  of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri '  printed  frag- 
ments of  the  "  Perikeiromene  "  (Shorn  Lady)  and 
a  short  piece  of  the  "  Kolax  "  (Parasite).* 

These  were  all  included  in  an  edition  of  the 
then  known  fragments  of  Menander  by  Herr 
Kretschmer  in  1906.  There  was  also  extant  at 
this  time  a  piece  of  a  play  at  St.  Petersburg, 
thought  to  be  from  the  "  Arbitration,"  Epitrepontes. 
Also  among  some  mummy  case  fragments  pub- 
lished by  M.  Jouguet,  from  Ghoran,  in  the  *  Bulletin 
Correspondance    Hellenique,'  vol.    xxx,  are    about 

*  Wilamowitz  Moellendorff  thought '  Oxyrhynchus  Pap.'  855  could 
not  be  by  Menander,  because  the  article  occurs  with  last  foot  of  the 
verse  ;  but  in  '  Rheinisches  Museum  fur  Philologie,'  1910,  308,  Herr 
Kretschmer  gives  play  and  verse  citing  five  cases  of  this  particular 
usage  in  Menander's  works. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    123 

ninety  lines  of  a  comedy,  thought  by  Dr.  Blass  to  be 
from  the  "  Apistus." 

Upon  the  reverse  of  this  Grhoran  papyrus  are  two 
iambic  prologues,  perhaps  one  at  least  referring 
to  the  comedy.  It  is  almost  complete,  and  is  a 
clever  piece  of  versification,  every  second  line 
repeating  the  words  of  the  previous  one  in  reversed 
order.* 

The  whole  previously  collected  copies  of  Men- 
ander's  plays  were,  however,  surpassed  by  the 
discovery  at  Kom  Ishgaou  in  the  Fayoum  of  con- 
siderable parts  of  four  comedies,  which  are  now  in 
the  Cairo  Museum,  and  have  twice  been  edited  by 
M.  Lefebvre. 

These  restore  some  340  lines  of  the  "riE|Oi/c£ijOo,u£iV 
or  Perikerisome,  350  of  the  "  Samian  Woman,"  500 
"  Epitrepontes  "  (Arbitration), f  and  the  prologue, 
and  also  about  fifty  lines  of  the  "  Heros  "  (Demi- 
God).  Of  the  "  UepiKiipo/iiiv^ "  a  piece  of  another 
manuscript  containing  some  140  lines  was  subse- 
quently obtained  in  Egypt  by  Dr.  Zucker.  Of  these 
nearly  half  were  already  found  in  the  Kom  Ishgaou 
text.! 

*  A.  Korte  in  'Hermes,'  43,  re-publishes  125  lines  of  this  papyrus. 
"Die  Komodienpapyri  von  Ghoran,"  and  succeeds  in  recomposing 
one  good  scene  between  the  characters  Phaidimus  and  Niceratus,  a 
misjudged  friend.  Korte  does  not  accept  it  as  Menander's  work,  but 
a  later  and  inferior  writer.  If  Korte  is  correct  in  thinking  the  comedy 
is  as  late  as  the  third  century  B.C.,  as  it  mentions  the  chorus,  it  would 
prove  this  adjunct  to  the  stage  was  used  as  late  as  that  period.  He 
endeavours  to  prove  this  by  inscriptions  and  other  classic  references. 

t  H.  Eischl  in  '  Hermes,'  43,  shows  that  the  source  of  the 
plot  after  which  the  "Epitrepontes"  was  named  was  the  "Alope" 
of  Euripides. 

X  In  the  new-found  commencement  of  Photius'  '  Lexicon,'  giving 
A  to  "Airapvos  (R.  Reitzenstein   "  Der   Anfang    des    Lexicons   des 


124    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

The  remains  of  four  of  the  plays,  "  The  Demi- 
God,"  "Arbitrators,"  "  Samian  Woman,"  and 
"  UtpiKiipoiuivri,"  have  been  published  by  Mr.  E.  Capps, 
but  this  was  before  M.  Lefebvre  had  produced  his 
second  edition  in  the  Cairo  catalogue  of  Greek  papyri, 
which  gave  several  additional  pieces  of  text  and 
assigned  a  number  of  the  previously  printed  frag- 
ments to  their  proper  places  in  the  text. 

The  celebrated  historian  of  Greek  literature, 
M.  Maurice  Croiset,  has  also  made  a  most  successful 
essay  at  rendering  intelligible  the  best  preserved  of 
the  four  plays,  the  "  Epitrepontes,"  and  endeavours, 
as  far  as  possible,  to  reproduce  the  plot  and  as 
much  of  the  dialogue  as  can  be  comprehended. 

The  long  gaps  in  the  text,  obscuring  even  the 
first  scenes,  and  including  the  loss  of  all  the  third 
act  and  part  of  the  fourth  and  fifth,  are  much  to  be 
deplored,  because  these  portions  of  the  play  con- 
tained the  dramatic  crisis  of  the  plot. 

Had  they  been  before  us  they  would  have  per- 
mitted a  better  comprehension  of  the  true  characters 
of  the  husband  and  wife,  hero  and  heroine,  Charisios 
and  Pamphile. 

This  play,  the  "  Arbitration,"  Sidonius  Apolliu- 
arius,  in  the  fifth  century,  asserted  was  the  founda- 
tion for  the  "Hecyra"  of  Terence.  The  portions  of 
it  that  we  now  possess  are  sufficient  to  refute  this. 

Terence  took  for  model  the  "  Hecyra  "  of  Apol- 
lodorus  of  Carystos,  who  certainly  plagiarised  from 

Photios  "  Leipzig,  Teubner,  1907)  are  two  better  readings  of  fragments 
of  the  "Messenians"  and  of  the  "  Hypobolimaios,"  three  verses  from 
a  work  of  his  called  the  "  Thyroros,"  to  which  it  would  now  appear 
that  six  verses  quoted  by  Athenaeus  belong,  also  three  verses  of 
another  lost  play. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    125 

the  "  Epitrepontes,"  so  that  Terence  imitated  it,  if  at 
all,  at  second  hand.  A  close  examination  of  what 
we  have  of  the  play  with  Terence  will  show  whether 
he  apparently  had  the  "  Arbitration"  in  his  mind  at 
all  when  composing  the  "  Hecyra." 

A  curious  coincidence  is  the  similarity  between  part 
of  the  "Epitrepontes"  and  " Alope  "  of  Euripides. 
The  perusal  of  this  play  in  particular,  and  also  o+* 
the  other  remains  of  Menander,  explains  to  us  what 
Aristophanes  meant  when  exclaiming  "  0  Menander  ! 
0  Life !  which  of  you  copied  the  other?"  For  the 
peculiarity  of  Menander's  dialogue,  as  now  dis- 
closed, is  that  throughout  it  all  it  is,  as  far  as  we 
are  able  to  judge,  absolutely  true  to  life.  The 
realism  is  perfect.* 

In  almost  all  plays,  for  the  purpose  of  the  plot, 
or  to  accentuate  some  situation  on  the  stage,  to 
thrill  the  audience,  or  secure  a  suitable  moment  for 
uttering  some  epigram,  things  are  said  or  done 
which  an  onlooker,  or  reader,  feels  immediately 
would  not  have  transpired  precisely  thus  in  real  life. 
A  character,  for  farcical  purposes,  is  over-exagge- 
rated in  speech  and  action.  The  misfortunes  accu- 
mulating upon  one  personage  are  more  nearly  the 
average  which  fate  in  actual  life  apportions  to  two. 
Or  a  misunderstanding  is  founded  upon  so  trivial 
a  cause,  one  appreciates  that  it  would  either  not 
have  produced  such  profound  consequences,  or  have 
been  prematurely  detected. 

But  Menander,  as  an  author,  makes  no  false 
step  of  this  kind ;  the  circumstances  and  the  con- 

*  See  Ed.  Capps,  "  Four  Plays  of  Menander,  with  Introduction, 
Notes,  etc.,"  Boston,  Ginn,  1910. 


126    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

versation  he  sets  forth  are  what  may  be  termed 
literary  photogravure.  The  gratification  of  his 
audiences  that  maintained  his  popularity  must  have 
consisted  in  their  seeing  the  very  motives  and 
actions,  and  hearing  the  actual  words  and  phrases 
of  their  every-day  life  reproduced  before  them. 

To  every  auditor  there  appeared  an  accurate 
reproduction  of  some  character  he  could  count,  if 
not  among  his  acquaintances,  at  any  rate  among 
people  of  whom  he  had  knowledge. 

They  acted  and  conversed  as  his  contemporaries 
did,  or  would  have  done,  under  similar  circum- 
stances. 

In  fact,  a  Menander  play  was  a  mirror  of 
emotions  and  manners — a  literary  and  dramatic 
presentment  of  what  was  stored  up  in  the  life 
memory  of  "the  man  in  the  street"  or  upon  the 
farm,  or  the  galley  in  ancient  Greece. 

In  Menander's  plays,  partly  now  restored  to 
us,  he  proves  to  be  a  delineator  of  average  daily 
life,  excluding  the  fiercer  passions  and  tragic 
catastrophes.  Some  common,  and  to  the  Greeks, 
venial  vices  are  frankly  admitted.  Some  minor 
virtues  are  equally  apparent. 

The  characters  analysed  for  us  by  their  actions 
and  words  under  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
are  depicted  are  those  which  we  instinctively  recog- 
nise would  have  been  familiar  even  among  the 
limited  circle  of  acquaintances  of  each  one  of  the 
persons  who  crowded  to  the  theatre  to  see  the 
P^y. 

Menander's  genius,  then,  notwithstanding  his 
limiting  himself  to  merely  reproducing  what  would 


o- 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    12 

really  occur  in  actual  life,  apparently  consisted  in 
his  so  selecting  his  characters  as  to  make  their 
motives  and  actions  under  ordinary  circumstances 
to  be  such  as  to  prove  a  subject  of  intense  interest, 
amusement,  and  perhaps  instruction  to  his  audience. 
As  to  how  he  utilised  the  psychological  contrasts  of 
his  characters,  how  he  may  have  pointed  the  moral  to 
adorn  the  tale,  his  dramatic  resource,  and  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  intrigue  composing  the  plots,  and 
many  other  matters,  they  can  be  better  discussed 
when  every  fragment  found  of  his  work  is  carefully 
edited.*  What  is  even  already  apparent  and, 
therefore,  evidently  the  secret  of  his  success  is  that, 
apart  from  artifice  in  the  selection  of  his  characters, 
Menander  simply  reproduced  in  their  words  and 
deeds  the  very  counterpart  of  those  of  the  men  and 
women  of  his  age  and  country. f 

In  Part  I  of  the  '  Hibeh  Papyri,'  Pap.  No.  6,  there 
is  a  piece  giving  four  mutilated  columns  of  a  Greek 
comedy  very  suggestive  of  Menander's  style,  and 
the    name   of   one    of   the   three   characters   which 

*  In  'Hermes,'  43,  F.  Leo  endeavours  to  reconstruct  the  four  Kom 
Ishgaou  papyrus  plays  in  an  essay  of  forty-eiglit  pages.  In 
'  Philologus'  69  (1910),  pp.  10-34,  G.  A.  Gerhard  describes  in  detail 
the  form  and  action  of  the  "  Perikeiromene." 

f  The  popularity  of  Menander's  plays  may  he  indicated  by  the 
fact  that  we  already  have  fragments  on  papyri  of  three  exemplars  of 
the  TlipiKiipoiisvn.  The  last  found  is  now  at  Heidelberg,  and  is  a  text 
of  probably  the  second  century  :  see  "  Ein  Heidelberger  Fragment 
aus  Menander's  Perikeiromene,"  Sitzungsberichte  der  Heidel- 
berger Akademie  der  Wissenschaften,  1911,  by  Gerhard.  Dr. 
Warren  Wright,  of  Bryn  Mawr  University,  in  his  "  Studies  in 
Menander,"  gives  a  chapter  upon  "  Oaths  in  Menander."  A  singular 
oath  form  is  mentioned  in  a  fragment  of  Menander— that  by  the  doors 
of  the  house — a  spot  which  spirits  were  supposed  to  haunt.  The 
poet  writes  :  "  paprvpopai  vai  \ia  tqv  '  AttoXKw  tovtovl  nal  rag  9vpog. 


L28    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

occur  in  it,  Demeas,  was  one  of  those  in  Menander's 

(C    A  '        'Z  "      " 

&IQ    itflTClTlOV. 

The  first  editors  point  out,  however,  that  Plautus' 
"Bacchides"  was  supposed  to  be  founded  on  that 
play  of  Menander's,  and  the  passages,  as  far  as 
comprehensible  in  this  short  piece,  do  not  suggest 
any  situation  similar  to  one  in  the  "Bacchides." 
However,  the  number  of  connected  lines  is  so  few 
that  this  is  not  surprising. 

Two  columns  of  an  Attic  comedy  to  be  found 
upon  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus  '  855  were  thought  to 
be  by  Menander  and  to  be  from  his  "  Perinthia." 
Korte  considers  this  attribution  as  certain. 

As  so  frequently  written  of  in  connection  with 
Menander,  a  papyrus  bearing  what  is  believed  to  be 
part  of  a  play  by  Philemon  should  be  mentioned 
here.  It  is  the  fifth  document  printed  in  the  '  Hibeh 
Papyri,'  and  decides  a  literary  question  long  debated. 
For  whatever  the  name  and  whoever  the  author  of 
this  comedy  may  be,  it  is  undoubtedly  the  parent  of 
Plautus'  "  Aulularia."  It  is  part  of  the  same 
papyrus  as  two  fragments  in  '  Papyrus  Grenfell ' 
No.  8.* 

Leo,  Theo  Reinach  and  Weil  do  not  agree  with 
the  attribution  to  Philemon,  or  to  its  being  the  basis 
for  the  "  Aulularia."  Some  verses,  Reinach  con- 
siders, apply  to  Egypt  and  praise  that  country. 

11  vvv  oic  aKpt<ru>g  dtoTt  Ttjg  oiKOu/ifvrjc 
lepa  aa(j>hjg  avri]  'gtiv  f/  XVJPa  fxovll 
Kcivuact  KaToiKi]aaai  iravTtg  01    9toi, 
kuI  vvv  tr'  tiai  kol  ytyovcKTiv  tvuact. 

*   Another  fragment   of   this    papyrus    is    known  as    '  Papyrus 
Grenfell  II.' 


KECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF  CLASSICAL  LITERATURE.    129 

The  British  explorers  at  Palaikastro,  in  Crete, 
found  a  long  metrical  inscription  in  the  temple  of 
Z  eus  Diktaios,  which  has  been  published  by  Prof.  R.  C . 
Bosanquet  and  Prof.  Gilbert  Murray,  who  restored 
the  text.  It  is  believed  to  have  been  engraved  in 
the  second  century  a.d.,  but  the  composition  resem- 
bles that  of  the  hymns  of  Isyllos  of  Epidauros  in 
the  third  century  B.C.* 

M.  A.  J.  Reinach  has  reproduced  Prof.  Murray's 
rendering  with  a  French  version.  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  submitting  an  English  one  by  Mr.  H. 
Clifford  Gibbons,  a  young  scholar,  which  will  present 
a  clear  idea  of  the  poem. 

"  (1)  16 

Most  mighty  Kouros  (2)  hail,  all  hail ! 
Of  waters  master  most  omnipotent ; 
Thou  who  didst  rise  to  mastery  of  the  gods, 
On  Dikte  (3)  homage  for  the  year  accept. 
Rejoice  with  dancing  girls  and  the  music  that 
We  play  thee  on  the  harp,  and  by  the  flute, 
accompanied ;  and  likewise  when  we  sing 
the  goodly  fashioned  altar  round  about. 

"  16,  etc. 

For  it  is  there  oh  !  thou  immortal  child 
That  foster-fathers  laden  with  great  shields 
Snatch  thee  away  from  Rhea  thy  mother's  arms  (4) 
And  by  the  cadence  of  their  beating  feet. 
(Drown  thy  remonstrance). (5) 

"  16,  etc. 

The  Seasons  every  year  yield  up  their  fruits 
And  over  mortal  man  doth  justice  reign, 
And  e'en  the  beasts  untamed  do  themselves 
Know  Peace  beneficent. 


*  '  Annual  British  School  at  Athens,'  xiv,  338-356. 


130    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

u  16,  etc. 

And  likewise  for  ourselves,  come  let  us  leap  ! 
Leap  that  our  nuptial  couch  may  fruitful  be, 
Our  herds  give  increase,  and  our  seeds  yield  fruit, 
And  for  the  winds,  balm  laden,  let  us  leap  ! 

"  16,  etc. 

Leap,  leap  again  for  welfare  of  our  towns 
And  for  our  ships  that  brave  the  trackless  deep. 
Leap  for  our  youth,  the  scions  of  our  race  (7) 
For  wise  and  glorious  Themis  (8)  let  us  leap." 

Note  by  H.  Clifford  Gibbons.— (1)  I6=iw.  An  invocation  oft  thrice 
repeated  when  addressing  deities.  Not  to  be  confounded  with  'l«i, 
mistress  of  Zeus,  who,  to  save  her  from  Hera's  jealousy,  changed  her 
into  a  heifer. — (2)  Kouros  (icovpos),  a  rare  form  of  (copoc=  boy,  which 
I  have  only  met  with  in  Homer.  Obviously  it  refers  to  the  infancy 
of  Zeus  at  the  time  which  the  festival  celebrates.— (3)  Dikte,  the 
mountain  on  the  Eastern  side  of  Crete,  a  branch  of  Mount  Ida, 
where  Zeus  is  said  to  have  been  concealed  when  a  child  and 
nourished  by  bees.  He  is  sometimes  entitled  Dictaeus.— (4)  Rhea, 
wife  of  Kronos,  being  about  to  be  delivered  of  Zeus,  concealed 
the  birth,  her  husband  having  swallowed  his  five  children,  and 
placed  the  child  in  a  cave  on  Mont  Ida,  or  maybe  its  spur,  Dikte. 
Thus  secured,  Zeus  grew  up  and  overthrew  Kronos.— (5)  A  strophe 
is  missing  here.  "  Drown  thy  remonsteince  "  does  not  occur  in  the 
text,  but  is  poetic  license  since  the  beating  feet  of  the  dancers  is 
obviously  intended  to  conceal  the  cries  of  the  infant  when  parted 
from  its  mother.  The  phrases  underlined  in  the  verse  are  either 
very  free  translations  or  else  additions  made  for  technical  reasons. 
The  Greek  for  the  last  two  lines  is  :  "  7rap''P«as  Xaaovng  iroda  "  and 
("  poiiovrec  airexpvtyav  ").  (6)  Literally  "begin  to  yield  ixp."— 
(7)  An  addition  of  my  own  for  reasons  given  above. — (8)  Themis, 
daughter  of  Coelus  and  Gaea,  was  generally  attended  by  the 
"  Seasons";  thus  she  was  naturally  saluted  in  this  chantfor  obtaining 
prolific  growth. 

A  portion  of  a  work  interestingly  illustrating  the 
history  of  early  Greek  music  is  upon  one  of  the 
'  Hibeh  Papyri '  No.  13.  It  is  supposed  to  be  part 
of  an  oration  by  Hippias  of  Elis,  contemporary  of 
Socrates,  and  to  have  been  delivered  by  him  at  the 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    131 

Olympian    games    at   which   his    being    present    is 
attested  by  Hippias  minor. 

The  speech  appears  to  have  been  directed  to  con- 
troverting some  views  of  Damon,  the  instructor  in 
mnsic  of  Plato.  The  new  text  shows  Hippias,  like 
his  brother  sophists,  denying  any  moral  influence 
to  music,  a  question  taken  up  later  by  Philodemus,  as 
shown  in  the  great  papyrus  of  his  '  De  Musica ' 
found  at  Herculaneum,  and  also  by  SextusEmpiricus. 

The  scribe  seems  to  have  made  an  error  in  one 
sentence  by  substituting  the  word  "  diatonic  "  for 
"  chromatic." 

The  piece  is  particularly  valuable,  however,  because 
of  its  antiquity,  for  it  certainly  was  composed  when 
the  enharmonic  system  was  still  largely  used,  and  so 
is  before  the  period  of  Aristoxenus.  The  statement 
that  in  tragedy,  at  the  writer's  era,  the  enharmonic 
scale  was  employed  is  of  moment,  because  it  pro- 
bably decides  the  question  as  to  the  true  notation  of 
the  papyrus  at  Vienna  giving  a  piece  of  Euripides 
with  the  musical  notes.  The  sign  used  therein  is 
one  which  means  both  enharmonic  and  chromatic, 
and  though  musicians  and  scholars  considered  it  was 
in  enharmonic,  the  matter  was  not  certain.  Sup- 
posing that  the  word  "diatonic"  is  correctly  used  by 
the  scribe  of  the  'Hibeh  Papyrus,'  we  get  the  further 
information  that  many  Hellenic  peoples  used  this 
system,  which  is  almost  identical  with  the  scale  of 
modern  musicians.  The  suggestion  that  the  different 
systems  produced  either  brave  or  cowardly  warriors 
is  interesting  in  connection  with  the  views  of  some 
medical  men  to-day  as  to  the  curative  effects,  in 
some  maladies,  of  music. 


L32    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

In  the  '  Revue  des  Etudes  Grecques  '  for  1897  M. 
Theodore  Reinach  edited  some  new  fragments  of  a 
work  by  an  unknown  author  upon  the  theory  of 
music  from  the  manuscript  No.  102  of  the  Greek 
codices  in  the  Vatican. 

The  text  is  illustrated  by  a  few  diagrams  which 
appear  to  be  taken  from  the  "  Harmonics "  of 
Ptolemy  (Theodore  Reinach,  '  Fragments  Musico- 
logiques  Inedits.') 

The  papyrus  from  '  Oxyrhynchus'  numbered  067 
gives  thirty  complete  lines  of  a  work  evidently  by 
an  able  musician  upon  music;  perhaps  it  is  by 
Aristoxenus. 

The  short  piece  is  in  two  columns,  and  contains 
an  analysis  of  certain  musical  scales.  The  editors, 
Drs.  Grenfell  and  Hunt,  submitted  the  text  to  Mr. 
H.  S.  Macran,  editor  of  Aristoxenus'  "  Harmonics," 
and  his  view's  upon  it  are  embodied  in  their 
remarks. 

A  previously  printed '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus,'  No. 
7,  containing  part  of  a  treatise  upon  metre, 
which  critics  almost  unanimously  agree  is  from  the 
"pvBiiUKa  <jToiy/ia"  of  Aristoxenus,  is  an  addition  to  his 
remains;  it  is  of  nearly  one  hundred  short  lines, 
probably  written  in  the  third  century. 

The  whole  of  this  papyrus  is  most  ably  edited 
and  reviewed  by  Theodore  Reinach,  "  Les  Nouveaux 
Fragments  Rhythmiques  d'Aristoxene,"  in  '  Revue 
des  Etudes  Grecques,"  xi,  389,  412. 

Pindar. 
In  190-4  Messrs.  Grenfell  and  Hunt  published,  as 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    133 

No.  659  of*  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,'  portions  of 
five  columns  of  Greek  lyric  poetry,  giving  parts  of 
two  odes.  The  second  ode  is  the  only  one  whose 
text  is  long  enough  to  have  any  literary  value,  but 
this  is  considerable,  because  it  is  the  only  specimen 
of  the  "  Parthenia  "  of  Pindar  we  possess,*  that  is 
to  say,  of  those  choruses  composed  for  maidens  to 
chant  at  great  festivals.  In  this  case  the  poem  is 
in  honour  of  Aeoladas,  father  of  the  Pagondas  who 
commanded  the  Thebans  at  the  battle  of  Delium. 
The  construction  of  the  piece  is  simple,  and  no 
phrases  are  really  remarkable  and  the  sentiments 
are  not  striking. 

The  best  passages  probably  are  those  in  which 
the  editors  have  rendered  into  prose  part  of  the 
maidens'  song. 

"I  will  celebrate  the  all-glorious  dwelling  of 
Aeoladas  and  his  son  Pagondas,  my  maidenly  head 
brio-ht  with  o-arlands,  and  to  the  time  of  lotus  pipe 
will  imitate  in  song  a  siren  sound  of  praise,  such  as 
hushes  the  sudden  blasts  of  Zephyrus,  and  when 
chilling  Boreas  speeds  on  a  stormy  night  calms 
ocean's  swift  rush." 

In  1908  this  short  series  of  some  eighty  lines  was 
practically  eclipsed  by  the  same  scholars  edit  in 
princeps  of  another  papyrus,  giving  quite  270 
almost  complete  verses,  containing  several  con- 
secutive passages  of  some  length  of  the  lost  "Paeans 
of  Pindar."  ft  is  probably  a  second  century  manu- 
script, and  although  in  a  deplorable  state  when  first 

*  In  '  Papyrus  Oxyrhynchus '  408  there  are  four  fragments  of  a 
lyric  work  in  Pindaric  dialect,  which  Blass  proved  by  quotations 
from  Pindar  in  Plutarch  and  others,  to  be  by  that  poet. 


L34    RECENT  DISCOVERIES  OE   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

discovered,  has  been  so  cleverly  reunited  that  nine 
different  poems  can  be  distinguished.* 

Tin'  most  legible  of  these  poems  are  those  written 
for  the  Abderites,  the  Ceans,  and  the  Delphians. 

Whilst  the  editors  are  naturally  enthusiastic  over 
the  new-found  work,  there  does  not  appear  to  be 
much  matter  in  the  poems  to  augment  Pindar's 
reputation.  The  concepts  are  commonplace,  though 
elevated  into  dignity  by  the  felicitous  language  in 
which  they  are  embodied  and  the  grace  of  the  metre. 

The  prettiest  lines,  perhaps,  are  those  in  the 
"  Paean  of  Aegina,"  in  which  the  island  is  called  a 
"  deep-breasted  maiden  of  whom  the  golden  tresses 
of  the  mists  hide  the  shaded  ridges  of  the  land."f 

The  greatest  disappointment  among  the  new-found 
classical  literature  has  been  that  of  the,  now  famous, 
papyrus  at  Berlin,  bearing  a  considerable  remnant 
of  the  "  Persae  "  of  Timotheus  of  Miletus. $ 

The  manuscript  is  certainly  the  oldest  Greek 
literary  one  yet  known.  The  roll  was  discovered  in 
the  grave  of  some  Greek  colonist  in  Egypt,  together 
with  pottery  of  a  type  not  later  than  B.C.  350,  and 
the  paleography  of  the  palm  all  points  to  the  fourth 
century  B.C. 

The  poem  is  of  a  species  known  as  the  "  Nomos  " 
or  libretto,  to  be  sung  to  lyric  music.  The  piece  was 
composed  about  396  B.C.,  at  the  time  of  Agesilaus' 
Asiatic  expedition,  upon  which  so  much  new  light 

*  The  second  and  third  are  alluded  to  by  Pindar  in  his  first 
Isthmian  and  seventh  Nemean. 

f  The  concept  of  the  contour  of  an  island  appearing  as  "  Mame- 
lons  "  re-appears  in  Scotland  in  the  Hebridean  "  Paps  of  Jura." 

J  Timotheus  '  Die  Perser,  aus  einem  Papyrus  von  Abusir,'  U.  von 
Wilamowitz  Moellendorff,  Leipzig,  1903. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    135 

has  been  thrown  by  the  papyrus  of  the  historian 
Cratippus. 

The  subject  of  the  ode  was  "  The  Battle  of 
Salamis,"  and  we  have  214  lines  from  the  middle 
part  or  "  oVt^aAo'c,"  which  should  supply  the  zenith  of 
Timotheus'  achievement.  Also  fragments  of  the 
end  of  the  piece  or  "  a^oa-ytg." 

The  historical  information  it  affords  is  almost  nil, 
and  the  whole  style  and  phraseology  are  so  forced 
and  peculiar  to  the  author,  that  Germany's  greatest 
classic  scholar,  Wiamowitz  Moellendorff,  declined 
to  translate  it. 

The  text,  being  so  ancient,*  is  written  without 
any  separation  of  the  verses,  and  is  somewhat 
broken  up  and  faint.  Monsieur  Paul  Mazon  has 
essayed  a  French  rendering  of  the  portion  of 
the  poem  that  is  most  comprehensible,  and  I 
venture  to  append  his  lines  to  this  resume  of  the 
papyrus : 

"  Et  de  nouveau  le  flotte  des  Perses  se  ruait  dans  une 
fuite  native. 

aLes  files  se  heurtaient  et  les  pieds  montagnards  des 
vaisseux  aux  longs  cous  plongeant  ;  Eehappaient  aux 
rameurs,  de  levres  des  navires,  les  dents  blanches  sautaient 
en  se  heurtent,  et  la  mer  s'etoilait  de  cadavres  grouil- 
lants  qu'avait,  dans  un  soupir,  abandonnes  la  vie. 

"Les  reves  etaient  chargees;  tandis  que  assis  au  bords 
les  flots,  dans  leur  nudite  raidie,  avec  des  cris,  des  plaintes 
larmoyantes,  se  frappaient  le  sein  en  gemissant  les  vivants 
s'abandonnaient  a  un  lamentation  de  deuil  et  envoquaient 
le  sol  de  la  patrie." 

*  Prof.  Jebb  assigned  the  manuscript  to  3*20-290  B.C.  Probably 
the  earliest  dated  Greek  papyrus  is  of  310  B.C.  It  is  published  in 
Dr.  Milligan's  'Selections  from  Greek  Papyri.' 


]:]{')    UECENT   DISCOVERIES   OE   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

Two  fragments  of  a  papyrus  from  Hawara,  in 
the  Fayoum,  first  edited  by  Professor  Sayce,  he 
concluded  were  part  of  a  geography  of  Sicily,  but 
Wilcken,  in  the  volume  of  essays  dedicated  to 
Carl  Robert,  shows  they  are  from  a  topographical 
description  of  Attica,  and  by  an  author  living  in  the 
third  century  B.C.,  perhaps  Diodorus  Periegetes. 
The  text  is  a  guide  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Athens 
and  the  Piraeus,  giving  an  account  of  the  long 
walls  and  the  Phaleric  wall. 

It  also  states  the  length  of  the  Piraeus  wall  as 
ninety  stades,  which  must  therefore  be  the  rampart 
of  Conon,  as  that  built  by  Themistocles  was  sixty 
stades. 

Dr.  F.  G.  Kenyon  has  published  a  piece  of  an 
hexameter  poem  of  late  date,  referring  to  Dionysius' 
expedition  to  India  and  his  war  with  Deriades.  He 
suggested  it  may  be  from  the  "  Bassarica "  of 
Dionysius. 

It  is  a  curious  story,  relating  the  rending  to 
pieces  of  some  miserable  captive  concealed  in  the 
skin  of  a  stag.* 

In  the  third  volume  of  the  '  Archiv  f.  Papyrus- 
forschung,'  M.  Festi  edited  from  a  papyrus  the 
remains  of  two  columns  of  a  philosophical  treatise 
upon  the  goddess  Athena.  He  thinks  it  is  the 
commencement  of  the  work  by  Diogenes  of  Babylon, 
"  n«pi  'Aflrjrac."  The  manuscript  is  in  the  Egyptian 
collection  at  the  Vatican. 

In  '  Hermathena,'  for  1901,  Professor  Smyly 
re-published    an    extract    from    a    Greek    romance 

*  F.  G-.  Kenyon,  "  Fragments  of  an  Epic  Poem,"  '  Album 
Gratulatorium,'  in  honom*  of  Herwerden.  Leyden,  1902. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     137 

relating   to    a    storm    at   sea,    first    edited   bj    Dr. 
Mahaffy. 

Search  in  various  great  libraries,  especially  the 
Vatican,  has  more  than  twice  over  augmented  the 
remains  previously  known  of  works  of  Caecilius 
Calactinus  ;  chiefly  by  means  of  a  manuscript  at 
Rome,  the  "  Apophthegmata  Romaica,"  which  was 
published  in  1902.  This  contained  a  large  amount 
of  the  "  Chreiai "  of  Calactinus,  who  is  stated  to 
have  written,  in  all,  twelve  or  thirteen  works. 

In  1907  Herr  Ofenloch  united  all  the  fragments 
in  his  '  Caecilii  Calactini  Fragmenta.'  They  are 
chiefly  collections  of  anecdotes  of  famous  person- 
ages, accumulated  from  all  quarters.  M.  Adolphe 
Reinach  has  traced  one  extract  to  Fabius  Pictor. 

The  Vatican  also  has  a  manuscript,  "  Etymologi- 
cum,"  showing  that  anterior  to  the  well-known 
"  Etymologicum  Magnum  "  there  was  a  larger  work, 
as  M,  Miller  indicated  when  publishing  part  of  a 
similar  treatise  in  his  'Melanges  de  Litterature 
Grecque.'  Reitzenstein  has  perused  the  Vatican 
codex  and  terms  it  the  "  Etymologicum  Grenuinum." 
It  adds  much  more  frequently  the  author's  name  from 
which  a  citation  is  made  than  did  the  older  known  one. 

In  the  '  Rheinisches  Museum'  for  1908,  in  two 
articles,  Hugo  Rafe  edited  some  of  a  new  com- 
mentary by  "  John  the  Deacon  "  upon  the  "  Yleo\ 
fiiOi'^ov  SavoVfjroc  "  of  Henuogenes.  It  is  in  a  four- 
teenth century  Vatican  manuscript.  These  works,  if 
not  very  erudite,  often  contain  unexpected  treasures. 
This  supplies  fifteen  new  verses  from  Euripides' 
"  Perithoos."  See  "  Des  Diakonen  und  Logotheten 
Johannes  Kommentar  zu  Hermogenes,"  kt\. 

vol.  xxxi.  10 


L38    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

In  L905  the  Bodleian  Library  acquired  a  papyrus 
with  forty-seven  lines  of  the  Lexicon  of  Apollonius  of 
Alexandria.  It  is  mentioned  here  because  it  proves 
that  our  manuscripts  have  been  much  condensed, 
for  compared  with  the  same  part  in  the  hitherto 
extant  copies  the  papyrus  has  nine  illustrative 
quotations  instead  of  two. 

The  Strasburg  papyrus  of  which  Herr  Bruno 
Keil  made  so  much  and  which  Wilcken  and  de  Bicci 
considered  instead  of  being  a  fragment  of  a  lost 
annalist,  to  be  merely  part  of  a  well-known  speech 
of  Demosthenes,  is  completely  reinvestigated  by  R. 
Laquer  in  '  Hermes,'  53. 

He  concludes  that  the  lines  are  a  piece  of  some 
elaborate  commentary  on  Demosthenes  like  the 
Didymus  papyrus,  and  perhaps  formed  a  work  also 
by  him.  The  "  Anonymus  of  Strassburg "  is 
therefore  worthy  of  much  of  the  attention  Keil 
bestowed  upon  him. 

A  new  fragment  of  Philochorus  has  proved  very 
useful  in  the  hands  of  M.  G.  Glotz  for  illuminating 
the  story  of  the  campaign  of  Cheronea,  especially 
showing  the  important  strategy  of  Philip  as  evinced 
by  his  capture  of  Elatea  (see  '  Bulletin  Correspon- 
dance  Hellenique,'  1909,  526-546).* 

Among  the  Hibeh  papyri,  that  numbered  14 
is  a  terribly  torn  and  destroyed  papyrus  rescued 
from  a  mummy  cartonnage,  which  once  contained 
the  "  Speech  of  Lysias  against  Theozotides " ;  of 
the  twenty  fragments  only  sufficient  can  be  pieced 
accurately  enough  together  to  give  us  two  portions 

*  For  all  remains  of  Philochorus  see  Cesare  Tropea  '  Filocoro  : 
Frammenti  della  sua  Storia  dell'  Attica,'  1909. 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    139 

of  the  speech.  One  of  these  controverts  the  pro- 
posal of  Theozotides  to  deprive  adopted  and  illegiti- 
mate children  of  the  benefits  the  state  conferred 
upon  orphans  of  those  killed  in  war. 

The  second,  the  shorter  of  the  two  legible  pieces, 
refers  to  the  idea  of  reducing  the  pay  of  the  cavalry. 
The  first  acts  as  a  sort  of  literary  Nemesis 
regarding  Aeschines,  for  it  proves  he  plagiarised 
this  argument  of  Lysias  in  his  speech  "  Contra 
Ctesiphontem." 

Other  short  pieces  of  merely  a  few  lines  among 
the  Hibeh  manuscript  are  remains  from  a  rhe- 
torical exercise,  a  criticism  of  Democritus'  atomic 
theory,  very  probably  by  Theophrastus,  and  also 
some  sayings  of  Simonides. 

A  papyrus  manuscript  considered  by  Dr.  Hunt  to 
be  of  the  second  century  gives  some  thirty  lines  and 
as  many  small  pieces  of  a  few  broken  words  each 
from  a  Satyric  drama.  The  characters  this  short 
morsel  refer  to  are  Oeneus  and  Phoenix.  Because 
of  the  last  named  personage,  Wilamowitz  Moellen- 
dorff  suggests  that  the  author  is  Ion  of  Chios,  for  he 
wrote  two  plays  concerning  Phoenix. 

The  part  preserved  gives  a  chorus  of  Satyrs 
describing  their  arts  and  performances  and  know- 
ledge of  astronomy,  medicine  and  magic  ('Oxyrhyn- 
chus  Papyrus  '  1083). 

The  next  numbered  papyrus,  1084,  gives  some 
lines  from  the  "  Atlantis  "  of  Hellanicus  relating  to 
the  marriage  of  the  Hyades. 

'  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus'  No.  1012  contains  some 
two  hundred  mutilated  lines  and  numerous  fragments 
of    what    appears  to    be    a  commentary    upon  the 


1  |0    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

works  of  historians  and  orators,  but  it  is  possible  it 
may  merely  be  some  professor's  notes  upon  such 
i natters  for  a  course  of  lectures. 

The  writer,  whoever  he  may  be,  quotes  Didymus 
of  Alexandria,  and  also,  apparently,  Caecilius  Calac- 
tinus  ;  so  he  must  have  lived  after  the  commence- 
ment of  our  era.  On  the  recto  of  the  manuscript  is 
an  official  account  of  the  period  of  Septimus  Severus; 
thus  the  text  upon  literature  was  written  about  the 
time  of  his  successor,  because  the  account  is  the 
matter  first  inscribed  upon  the  roll.  This  fact  tends 
to  show  that  the  criticism  was  more  of  the  nature 
of  memoranda  than  a  valued  work.  The  few 
paragraphs  making  continuous  sense  concern  such 
matters  as  the  characteristics  of  Lysias,  the  sup- 
pressions of  facts  by  Thucydides,  and  of  names  as 
well  as  facts  by  various  prose  authors,  the  diction 
of  Xenophon,  and  philological  notes  upon  Attic  words 
having  double  meanings  distinguished  by  writers  in 
that  dialect  only  by  accents,  and  some  discussion 
upon  the  character  of  Philip. 

Many  quotations,  unfortunately  mostly  from 
already  extant  writers,  occur,  and  some  from  lost 
works  of  Theopompus,  Theophrastus  and  others. 

One  of  the  longest  recovered  poems,  by  an  un- 
known author,  is  the  "  Fragment  of  Ninos,"  pub- 
lished by  Herr  Wilcken  and  Monsieur  Weil.  It 
relates  to  the  famous  builder  of  Nineveh,  his  mother, 
whose  name  is  given  as  Thambe,  his  aunt  Derkeia, 
and  her  daughter,  whose  name  does  not  transpire  in 
the  fragment,  but  who  undoubtedly  was  Semiramis, 
because  classic  writers  have  previously  told  us  her 
mother's  name  was  Derke,  or  Derkeia. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    1-11 

The  lines  found  commence  with  a  conversation 
between  Ninos  and  Derkeia,  in  which  he  craves  per- 
mission to  expouse  her  daughter,  claiming  that  his 
age  of  seventeen  and  her  own  were  just  suitable. 
Derkeia  desires  postponement  of  the  nuptials  for 
two  years,  but  Ninos  suggests  he  might  be  slain  in 
warfare  and  must  secure  an  heir. 

A  second  part  of  the  poem  preserved  sets  forth  the 
damsel's  arguments  to  her  aunt,  Thambe,  and  a 
conversation  between  the  two  aunts  as  to  obtaining 
the  King's  permission.  A  gap  in  the  text  then 
breaks  off  the  narrative,  and  when  it  recommences  the 
young  people  are  married  and  Ninos  proceeding  to 
some  war,  and  an  account  of  a  campaign  in  a  moun- 
tain region  of  Armenia  follows. 

Ninos  has  Greek  and  Carian  mercenaries  and 
hundreds  of  elephants.  The  piece  ends  abruptly 
at  the  beginning  of  a  battle. 

Among  papyri  at  Strasburg  is  part  of  a  prologue 
to  a  Greek  comedy  that  has  been  edited  by  Kaibel 
and  Reitzenstein,  but  no  scholar  can  decide  the 
author's  name.  The  prologue  states  that  once  two 
twin  brothers,  Sosthenes  and  Demea,  married  two 
twin  sisters.  The  wife  of  Sosthenes  bore  a  son,  the 
wife  of  Demea  a  daughter. 

The  brothers  went  to  Asia  and  encountered  great 
dangers ;  one  was  imprisoned  and  assisted  to  escape 
by  the  other,  who  was  incarcerated  in  turn  for 
aiding  the  first.  They  remained  absent  sixteen  years, 
doubtless  the  one  who  was  free  declining  to  leave 
his  brother. 

During  this  time  the  boy  and  girl  had  grown  up 
and  become  enamoured  of  each  other,  and  were  in 


142    RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OE   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

some  difficulty  which  only  the  parents'  return  could 
remove. 

A  few  mutilated  columns  of  a  treatise  upon 
metres  in  '  Oxyrliynchus  Papyrus '  220  gives  a 
number  of  poetical  quotations,  mostly  from  unknown 
lyric  poems,  but  some  have  been  traced  to  Sappho, 
Anacreon,  Sotades,  Callimachus,  Pindar,  Simonides 
and  Aeschylus. 

In  the  '  Journal  du  Ministere  de  l'lnstruction 
Publique'  of  St.  Petersburg  for  1901,  Professor 
Jernstedt  edited  a  rather  long  text  of  part  of  an 
ancient  library  catalogue.  The  works  enumerated 
are  chiefly  philosophical,  including  the  "  ABwauov " 
and  the  "  NeoiroXirwy  "  of  Aristotle. 

'  Oxyrliynchus  Papyrus  '  No.  664  presents    four 
columns  of  a  philosophical  dialogue  which  possibly . 
is  by  Aristotle. 

The  first  part  concerns  political  movements  of 
the  author,  who  at  the  period  of  the  usurpation  of 
Pisistratus,  having  departed  from  Athens,  proceeded 
to  Solon  in  Ionia.  This  is  interesting,  because  it 
shows  the  writer  believed  Solon  visited  Asia  when 
Pisistratus  became  tyrant,  and  so  the  meeting 
between  Solon  and  Croesus  may  be  authentic.  The 
author  then  returned  to  Athens  and  lived  with  a 
certain  Hagnotheus,  a  relative. 

The  second  column  is  a  narrative  in  dialogue 
form  connected  with  the  career  of  Periander,  tyrant 
of  Corinth.  The  personages  are  the  narrator, 
Ariphon,  Pisistratus  and  Adimantus. 

Ariphon  and  Adimantus  say  they  have  been  with 
Periander.  The  first  of  these  may  be  the  grandfather 
of  Pericles.       Another  personage,   Thrasybulus,  is 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    14o 

mentioned  as  closely  connected  with  an  unknown 
writer.  This  is  undoubtedly  the  man  who,  as 
Plutarch  tells  us,  married  the  daughter  of  Pisistratus. 
because  the  papyrus  gives  for  his  father  a  Philo- 
melus  whom  Polyaenus  names  as  parent  of  Thrasy- 
bulus  whom  the  manuscript  misnames  Thrasymedes. 

The  historical  evidence  of  this  piece  is  of  value, 
because  although  it  is  only  an  imaginary  dialogic , 
the  author  doubtless  made  the  speakers  correctly 
contemporary,  and  so  it  illustrates  Herodotus  and 
other  historians. 

In  the  '  Festschrift  volume,'  p.  67,  presented  to 
the  Austrian  Hellenist,  Gomperz,  Wesseley  edited 
what  he  terms  a  philosophical  work  giving  a  collec- 
tion of  anecdotes  concerning  Diogenes  the  Cynic 
("  Neues  iiber  Diogenes  den  Kyniker  ") .  The  papyrus 
is  in  the  Rainer  collection ;  about  four  columns  are 
publishable.  All  the  stories  are  new  except  one 
which  Diogenes  Laertius  had  reported. 

A  vellum  leaf,  numbered  411,  among  the  texts 
from  *  Oxyrhynchus,'  and  written  in  a  script  much 
resembling  that  of  the  "  Codex  Alexandrinus,"  and 
so  probably  of  the  fifth  century,  is  from  a  life  of 
Alcibiades. 

The  author  quotes  Thucydides,  but  utilises  other 
authorities,  and  may  have  preceded  Plutarch.  His 
attitude  is  decidedly  favourable  towards  Alcibiades. 

The  next  edited  manuscript  from  the  same  site 
clears  up  a  question  in  classical  literature  by  proving 
that  Julius  Africanus,  the  friend  of  Origin,  was  the 
writer  of  the  curious  compilation  entitled  "  The 
Kestoi."  The  manuscript,  too,  is  interesting,  because 
it  is  dated  but  shortly  after  the  author's  decease,  and 


144    RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

as  it  is  stated  to  be  the  eighteenth  book,  it  supports 
the  assertion  of  Suidas  that  the  work  was  in  twenty- 
four  books.* 

The  text,  too,  concerns  literature,  for  Africanus 
in  it  advocates  the  insertion  of  twenty-seven  more 
lines  in  the  eleventh  book  of  the  '  Odyssey  '  in  the 
shape  of  a  magical  incantation  at  the  moment  when 
Odysseus  called  up  the  ghosts.  The  additional 
lines  are  not  calculated  to  augment  Homer's  reputa- 
tion, but  Africanus  gives  proofs  of  their  being 
contained  in  manuscripts  well  known  to  be  in 
libraries  in  Rome,  Caria,  and  Palestine. 

Incidentally  he  mentions  that  he  had  himself 
arranged  a  library  in  the  Pantheon  for  the  Emperor, 
certainly  Alexander  Severus,  for  the  '  Kestoi '  was 
dedicated  to  him. 

A  very  useful  literary  papyrus  is  '  Oxyrhynchus  ' 
12,  which  contains  six  columns  of  a  historical 
chronology  of  Greek  and  Roman  history,  with  some 
notes  upon  Asiatic  affairs  running  over  forty  years, 
from  355  to  315  e.g.  It  is  probably  a  second 
century  manuscript,  but  may  have  been  copied 
from  an  original  quite  a  century  earlier. 

Its  interest  arises,  not  from  the  historical  informa- 
tion, but  from  the  records  of  the  publication  of  plays 
and  comedies  and  the  list  of  victors  at  the  games.f 

After  B.C.  323  the  writer's  chronology  differs 
considerably  and,  we  can  show  erroneously,  from  that 
usually  received. 

*  The  'Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,'  Part  iii ,  plate  v,  "Julius  Africanus 

KtGTOl. 

f  See  Edward  Capps,  "  The  Catalogues  of  Victors  at  Dionysia  and 
Lenaea,"  Cor.  Inscr.  Attic.  II,  971.  7.  Amer.  Journ.  of  Philology,' 
1899. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    145 

Fortunately  a  newly  found  piece  of  the  '  Parian 
Chronicle,'  embracing  the  years  336  to  298,  is  a 
useful  corrective. 

Perhaps  no  manuscript  has  given  rise  to  more 
literary  comment  than  the  "  List  of  Olympian  Vic- 
tors," No.  222  of  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri,'  which 
gives  the  records  for  years  480  to  468  and  456  to  448 
B.C.  The  writer  gives  the  names  for  thirteen  events 
for  each  year,  almost  in  the  same  order  as  the  date 
for  their  foundation  as  stated  by  Pausanias  and 
Eusebius,  and  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  Phlegon 
of  Tralles.  Possibly  the  epitome  is  derived  from 
Phlegon,  but  it  may  be  copied  from  Hippias  of 
Elis,  or  from  Philochorus. 

The  "List"  most  appropriately  relates  to  the 
important  years  when  the  Odes  of  Pindar  and 
Bacchylides  were  produced,  both  of  them  poets, 
much  of  wdiose  lost  work  has  just  been  found  in 
Egypt.  The  list  of  sculptors  is  most  valuable,  and 
indeed  all  Hellenic  history  for  the  period  embraced 
is  illuminated  by  this  new-found  work.  It  also 
shows  that  down  to  the  third  century,  for  that  is  the 
approximate  date  of  this  writing,  accurate  chrono- 
logies of  the  Olympiads  were  not  only  in  existence, 
but  so  much  esteemed,  that  a  resident  in  an 
Egyptian  village  possessed  one,  and  hence  we  can 
well  rely  upon  the  statements  of  classic  authors 
concerning  the  victors,  for  we  can  see  that  they  had 
chapter  and  verse  for  what  they  wrote.* 

The  information  given  in  the  work  is  admirably 

*  See  Th.  Reinach,  "  Un  Nouveau  Document  snr  le  Chronologie 
Artistique  et  Litemive  due  Ve.  siecle  avant  I.C,"  '  Revue  Arcbeo- 
Logique,'  1899,  399-442. 


1  !•»')    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

amplified  by  the  inscriptions  found  at  Athens  record- 
inn-  the  victories  at  the  poetical  contests  of  the 
Lenean  and  Dionysia.  In  '  Philologus,'  60,  1901, 
pp.  161-179,  F.  Mie  lias  reconstructed  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  programme  of  the  Olympian  games  by 
aid  of  this  list. 

He  considers  that,  subsequent  to  the  seventy- 
eighth  Olympiad,  the  festival  lasted  five  days. 
Upon  the  first  was  the  preliminary  celebration,  the 
oath  of  the  Heilanodikoi  and  contestants,  the  trial 
of  horses  and  athletes,  and  competitions  of  trum- 
peters and  heralds. 

The  boys'  contests  came  on  the  second  day. 
Upon  the  third  those  for  men,  excepting  the 
Pentathlon,  which,  with  the  horse  races,  occurred 
on  the  fourth  day. 

Upon  the  final  day  took  place  the  great  pro- 
cession, the  official  offering  at  the  Zeus  altar,  and 
the  banquet  in  the  Prytaneion. 

One  Greek  author,  Archilochus,*  has  had  the 
good  fortune  to  have  had  pieces  of  two  poems 
reproduced,  not  only  from  papyri,  but  one  of  them 
from  a  Parian  inscription.  In  1899  and  1900 
Herren  Reitzenstein  and  Hillar  von  Gartringen 
published  the  first,  two  papyrus  pages,  at  Stras- 
burg,  and  the  second,  a  lapidary  text  from  Paros, 
both  embodying  verses  of  this  early  poet.  The 
manuscript  gives  some  twenty-three  new  verses ; 
fourteen  of  these  are  apparently  from  a  different 
poem  to  the  others.  The  first  piece,  in  impassioned 
verse,  describes  a  traveller,  or  mariner,  ship- 
wrecked   on    the    Thracian    coast,    and    becoming 

*  "  Sitzungsberk-lite  Preussen  Akademie,"  1899.  857.  *.r\. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    147 

enslaved.  These  miseries  seem  to  be  recounted  as 
a  sort  of  curse  that  Archilochus  desires  an  old 
friend,  who  had  deceived  him,  should  endure. 
Strange  to  say,  short  as  the  piece  is,  it  is  sufficient 
to  indicate  that  it  is  the  basis  for  Horace's  tenth 
Epode.*  M.  Hauvette  also  shows  good  reason 
for  thinking  that  sentences  in  these  verses  inspired 
Aeschylus  in  passages  in  his  '  Eumenides '  and 
'  Agamemnon. 'f 

The  verses  upon  the  second  page,  though  broken 
and  so  difficult  to  render  in  an  interesting  manner, 
have  given  rise  to  some  discussion  because  the  name 
of  Hipponax  occurs  in  them,  and  Reitzenstein  and 
Blass|  considered  they  were  his  composition,  a 
view  which  M.  Hauvette  strongly  opposes. § 

The  lines  of  Archilochus  upon  the  Parian  Stele 
are  only  seven,  of  which  three  are  perfect,  concern- 
ing a  war  between  the  Parians  and  Thasos. 

Papyrus  No.  2G  in  the  first  volume  of  the 
catalogue  of  Greek  papyri  in  the  John  Rylands' 
Library  gives  a  readable  fragment  of  eighteen  lines 
from  Apion's  "  Homeric  Glossary." 

Short  as  this  piece  of  writing  is  it  clears  up 
several  interesting  literary  questions  by  proving,  as 
Herr  Kopp  had  thought,  that  a  small  text  from  an 
alphabetical  "  vocabulary  "  at  Darmstadt,  printed  by 

*  "  Mittheilungen  Arch.  Institut  in  Athen,"  1900, p.  1;  see  Horace 
Epistles :  "  Parios  ego  primus  iambos  ostendi  Latio,  numeros 
animosque  secutus  Archilochi,"  and  Sat.  II,  "  Eupoliu  Archilochuni, 
comites  educere  tantos." 

f  A.  Hauvette,  '  Archiloque,'  Paris,  1905. 

X  '  Rheiniscb.es  Museum,'  54,  1900,  p.  34d. 

§  '  Revue  des  Etudes  Grecques.'  1901,  70.  "  Les  Nouveaux  Frag- 
ments dArcbiloque." 


148    RECENT   D1SC0VEKIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

Still-/  in  his  edition  of  the  " Etymologicum  Gudi- 
anum,"  is  really  copied  from  Apion. 

Also  that  the  "  Mediaeval  Glossary,"  as  it  asserts, 
is  practically  Apion's  work,  though  considerably 
epitomised. 

The  same  volume  of  the  Rylands  papyri  also  gives 
a  small  historical  piece  concerning  '  Anaxandrides 
and  Chilon  of  Sparta,'  and  the  part  taken  by  them 
in  overthrowing  the  Greek  tyrants. 

The  sixth  part  of  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyri'  included, 
among  its  new  classical  texts,  a  long  piece  of  a  com- 
mentary in  Greek  upon  the  second  book  of 
Thucydides.  The  author  enlarges,  not  only  upon 
the  historian's  work  itself,  but  also  much  upon  the 
treatise  of  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  upon  Thucy- 
dides, so  that  the  commentary  was  almost  certainly 
not  composed  before  10  B.C.  On  the  other  hand, 
data  upon  the  papyrus  prove  that  if  the  writing 
upon  it  cannot  be  later  than  the  time  of  Hadrian,  so 
probably  its  contents  are  a  copy  of  some  commentary 
composed  soon  after  the  commencement  of  our  era. 

The  writer  of  this  text  is  chiefly  interested  in 
grammatical  matters,  though  sometimes  he  launches 
out  into  a  discussion  of  Thucydides'  historical  views 
and  methods,  and  of  Dionysius'  criticism  of  these. 

A  curious  incidental  fact  about  the  writer  is  that 
he  was  unacquainted  with,  or  ignores,  all  other 
Greek  historians :  in  fact,  Homer  and  Callimachus, 
are  the  only  writers  he  quotes  beyond,  as  mentioned, 
Dionysius,  and  an  allusion  to  Euripides,  in  this 
respect  differing  completely  from  Didymus  and 
the  Alexandrian  school  of  commentators. 

The  editors  cannot  decide  upon  the  identity  of  the 


RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE.    149 

author,  and  suggest  lie  was  some  obscure  gram- 
marian of  Alexandria  ;  but  if  he  resided  there  he 
would  almost  certainly  have  worked  in  the  great 
library,  and  quoted  many  more  of  his  predecessors' 
remarks  about  his  subject.  He  clearly  was  an 
admirer  of  Thucydides,  and  deals  Dionysius  some 
deft  blows,  contradicting  the  latter's  condemnation 
of  the  historian. 

The  collection  of  papyri  at  Giessen  contains  pieces 
of  what  was  once  a  large  manuscript  of  Roman 
imperial  edicts.  Of  these  parts  of  three  are  pre- 
served, all  of  them  dating  from  Caracalla.  The 
first  is  the  celebrated  "  Constitutia  Antoniniaria " 
awarding  the  right  of  Roman  citizenship  to  all 
inhabitants  of  the  Empire.  Unfortunately  but  little 
of  it  is  legible.  An  important  sentence,  however, 
concerning  its  non-applicability  to  the  nomadic 
wanderers  from  one  city  and  province  to  another  is 
anion  q;  those  clearlv  legible. 

The  second  constitution  is  one  promulgated  at 
Rome  in  212  and  Alexandria  213.  It  is  an  edict  of 
amnesty  issued  after  Geta's  murder. 

The  third  edict  was  promulgated  at  Alexandria 
after  215,  and  concerns  matters  there. 

A  novella  of  Justinian  ascribes  the  edict  granting 
free  citizenship  to  Antoninus  Pius,  but  the  papyrus 
shows  it  was  one  of  Caracalla's.  The  error  doubtless 
arose  from  both  Emperors  being  "  Pius  "  and  "  Pius 
Felix,"  and  both  in  shortened  titles  also  were  T.A., 
but  it  stood  for  T.  Aelius  in  one  case  and  T.  Aurelius 
in  the  other. 

In  1901  Professor  Reitzenstein  published  two 
pages  giving  portions  of  a  pair  of  Greek  poems  in 


150    RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OP   CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

hexameters  found  upon  two  papyrus  pages  purchased 
For  the  Strasburg  Museum,  and  numbered  in  that 
collection  as  480  and  481. 

Both  recto  and  verso  of  480  give  a  poem  relative 
to  Diocletian's  campaigns,  and  the  literary  matter 
is  of  considerable  interest.  The  other  page  bears  a 
text  concerning  the  creation  of  the  world  and  is 
apparently  by  the  same  author. 

Reitzenstein  could  not  suggest  who  this  was,  but 
M.  J.  Bidez  traces  the  works  to  Soterichos,  from 
statements  concerning  his  productions  made  by 
Suidas  and  Tzetzes,  and  also  Stephen,  of  Byzantium. 

Suidas  tells  us  that  Soterichos  wrote  an  'EyKiifuov 
eig  Aio/cArjnai'ov.  He  also  in  the  list  of  his  other 
works  mentions  a  "  Dionysiana  "  and  a  Bassarika, 
and  the  lines  mentioned  about  the  creation  may  well 
have  formed  part  of  the  commencement  of  one  of 
these. 

The  few  lines  preserved  of  the  second  manuscript 
are  insufficient  for  any  sound  conclusion  as  to  its 
subject,  but  M.  Bidez  thinks  he  can  detect  a  mention 
of  Apion,  who  came  from  the  great  Egyptian  Oasis, 
as  did  Soterichos,  and  the  lines  appear  to  allude  to 
Hermes  creating  a  city  there. 

Some  interesting  observations  concerning  the 
philosophical  papyri  found  a  century  ago  at  Hercu- 
laneum  have  been  made  by  Herr  Cronert  and  Pro- 
fessor Comparetti,  suggested  by  the  manuscripts 
being  much  more  closely  scrutinised  and  studied 
than  formerly. 

Cronert  thinks  that  some  additional  notes  to  a 
few  of  the  Epicurean  texts  are  actually  by  that 
philosopher  himself,  especially  those  in  the  treatise 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.    151 

Su'i/To&e  T<i>u  (pi\oo6(pwi>,  a  book  concerning  the  Acade- 
micians. Whilst  not  accepting  this  as  proven, 
Comparetti  considers  that  scribal  statements  in  the 
papyri  truthfully  attest  that  they  are  in  some  cases 
copies  of  the  original  edition  issued  during  Epicurus' 
lifetime. 

One  note  in  the  book  18  of  the  Urpvaew^  (old 
collection,  vi,  p.  37)  is  remarkable.      It  reads,  rwr 

apyaiaw  tyoa(pi]  t  7ri  Niyiov  tov  jjl   (s.tci    Aiti)   <ptnriv. 

This  gives  the  date  for  the  publication  of  the  work, 
and  was  a  memorandum  intended  to  certify  that 
this  manuscript  is  a  copy  of  one  so  dated.  As  the 
first  exemplar  was  written  in  the  eponymy  of 
Nikias,  who  succeeded  Antiphates,  it  takes  us  to 
Olympiad  121,  i.e.  296-5  B.C.  The  actual 
papyrus  found  at  Herculaneum  was,  however, 
written  under  the  eponymy  of  a  second,  later, 
Nikias,  than  the  one  who  held  office  when  its  parent 
manuscript  was  engrossed.  There  were  two  later 
eponyms  named  Nikias,  one  in  office  in  282-1  B.C., 
and  another  in  133-2  B.C.  jointly  with  Isigenes. 

The  script  of  the  papyrus  is  paleographically  so 
similar  to  Professor  Petrie's  papyrus  of  Plato's 
"  Phaedo,"  which  is  of  the  third  century  B.C.,  that 
Comparetti  assigns  the  Herculaneum  papyrus  to  the 
period  of  the  earliest  of  these  two  later  Nikias' 
eponyms. 

Necessarily  these  views  indicate  that  manuscripts 
in  Piso's  Villa  library  at  Herculaneum  were  ancient 
ones,  brought  into  Italy  from  Greece,  where  they 
had  been  written  many  years  before.* 

*  See  S.  Sudhaus,  "  Die  Schrift  des  Metrodorus  ntpi  ttXovtov  in 
Papyrus  1424  der  Herculanischen  Bibliothek,"  Hermes,  1907,  p.  645. 


152    RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OE   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

Another  dissertation  of  Herr  Cronert's  may  be 
mentioned  here,  concerning  the  British  Museum 
Greek  papyrus  No.  186,  founded  upon  Dr.  F.  G. 
Keuvon's  edition  of  the  text.  It  gives  four  columns 
of  uncial  writing  with  some  forty  legible  lines  of  a 
drama  concerning  Jason  and  Medea.  This  frag- 
ment Cronert  assigns  to  the  "  Medea  "  of  Neophron, 
probably  with  justice.  The  text  preserves  part  of 
the  prologue,  and  of  the  commencement  of  the 
work.* 

Herr  G.  A.  Gerhardt  in  11)09  produced  his  final 
edition  of  the  Heidelberg  papyrus,  No.  310,  of 
Ptolemaic  date,  containing  pieces  of  "  Choliambic  " 
poems  by  the  Cynic,  Phoenix  of  Colophon. f 

There  are  nearly  one  hundred  partly  legible 
lines,  of  which  some  twenty-three  restore  an  almost 
complete  poem. 

The  words  ''IawCoc  $o'ivikoq  occur  in  the  text,  of 
which  there  are  four  columns,  but  the  last  of  these 
only  preserves  the  commencement  of  the  lines.  The 
author's  name  is  in  line  74. 

The  learned  editor  makes  the  manuscript  the 
foundation  for  a  lengthy  commentary.  The  best  in 
condition  of  the  poems  is  addressed  to  a  certain 
Parnos,  and  is  a  discourse  against  vice  and  cupidity 

(aia-vpoKepBsia). 

Another   is    written    to    a    friend    of    Phoenix's 

*  For  Herr  Cronert's  dissertations  see  "  Die  Ueberlief  erring  der  Index 
Academicorum  "  in  '  Hermes.'  vol.  xxxviii.  His  book.  '  Kolotes  and 
Menedemos.'  p.  84 ;  also  his  "  Fragments  of  the  History  of  Socrates  " 
in  Rheinisches  Museum,  1902.  Professor  Comparetti's  views  are 
embedded  in  the  '  Melanges  Chatelain  under  the  title  of  "  La 
Bibliotheqne  de  Philodeme." 

f  Phoenix  von  Kolophon,  Gustave  Adolph  Gerhard.  Leipsig  : 
Tenbner,  1909. 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE.    153 

named  Posidippus.  This  person  may  be  quite  un- 
known, and  so  neither  the  comic  poet  of  Cassandria 
or  the  Alexandrian  epigrammatist,  a  disciple  of 
Cleanthes.  This  poem  is  condemnatory  of  the 
useless  rich,  enlarges  on  the  bad  use  they  make  of 
their  fortunes,  which  they  should  devote  to  their 
poorer  fellow  citizens. 

In  the  fragmentary  fourth  column  are  anonymous 
verses  of  rather  vulvar  character  mentioning'  the 
name  of  Philoxenus,  who  was  famous  for  his 
gluttony  and  debauchery,  and  who  seems  to  have 
figured  in  ancient  literature  as  a  type  of  these 
vices. 

Gerhardt  also  prints  two  small  papyrus  pieces, 
one  in  the  British  Museum,  No.  155,  and  one  in  the 
Bodleian,  which  contains  compositions  in  just  the 
same  style  and,  as  far  as  comprehensible,  enunciating 
similar  ideas.  In  his  commentaiy  Gerhardt  then 
treats  of  the  Choliambic  poets  in  general  and  their 
Cynic  morals,  chiefly  of  Cercidas  of  Megalopolis, 
of  whose  writings  Herr  Cronert  has  published 
seventy  lines  from  a  British  Museum  papyrus,  No. 
155. 

In  1906  Herr  Wilcken  in  '  Hermes  '  published 
portions  of  four  columns  of  writing,  two  of  which 
were  almost  complete  in  a  papyrus  at  Wurzburg 
which  paleographically  appertains  to  the  second 
century.  There  is  no  difficulty  as  to  its  attribution, 
because  it  is  a  well-written  roll  and  bears  clearly  on 
the  back  the  title  "  'Awifiov  n%oa&ue." 

It  is  therefore  a  piece  of  the  fourth  book  of  the 
lost  history  of  the  deeds  of  Hannibal  by  Sosyhis. 
The  portion  legible   refers   to    a    naval   action,    and 

vol,,   xxxi.  1  L 


L 54  RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

sets  forth  the  successful  tactics  of  the  Massaliots 
against  the  Carthaginians.  Sosylus  states  that 
these  tactics  were  imitated  from  those  of  Hera- 
cleides  at  the  battle  of  Artemisium.  Wilcken  docs 
not  think  this  can  be  the  place  of  that  name  in 
('aria,  The  pieces  of  the  papyrus  have  been  better 
arranged  than  when  Wilcken  first  edited  it,  and 
deserve  republication. 

The  discovery  of  one  manuscript  of  a  classical 
work  already  known  should  find  recognition  here 
because,  although  the  text  has  long  been  familiar, 
the  illustrations  are  new.  This  is  the  Vatican  codex 
No.  1201  of  the  Tallies  of  Ptolemy,  once  in  the 
library  of  Fulvio  Orsini.  The  miniatures  in  this  beau- 
tiful manuscript  have  been  described  by  Dr.  Franz 
Boll  at  the  Bavarian  Academy,  and  are  most  remark- 
able from  an  astronomical  point  of  view,  besides 
being  somehow  closely  connected  with  the  figures 
upon  the  Farnese  Globe,  and  are  of  great  antiquity 
originally.  For  although  the  date  of  this  manu- 
script is  between  a.d.  810  or  820  a.d.,  one  of  the 
most  exquisite  pictures  concerning  the  precise  dates 
in  months,  days  and  hours  of  the  sun's  entry  into 
the  zodiacal  signs  carries  the  composition  of  this 
diagram  back  to  250  a.d. 

The  text  itself  is  important  for  certifying  the 
correct  readings  of  Ptolemy's  "  Koyal  Canon  "  and 
"  Hemerology,"  but  the  preservation  of  what  are 
evidently  illustrations  designed  for  the  epoch  of  the 
middle  of  the  third  century  is  worthy  of  record.* 

*  Boll,  Franz,  '  Beitrage  zur  Ueberliefernngs  gescliiehte  cler 
Griechischen  Astrologie  and  Astronomie,'  Sitsimgberichte  Acad,  of 
Bavaria,  1899. 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE.    155 

A  small  treatise  of  Pliilodemus  anions:  the  "  Her- 

Clllaneum  Papyri,"  Yleolmv  KaQ'''0/uiipov  ayaOov  /3acrtAcwc, 

has  been  re-edited  by  Signor  Alex.  Olivieri.*  It 
was  transcribed  by  Corazza  and  since  much  damaged. 
The  progress  of  our  knowledge  of  papyrus  paleo- 
graphy has  enabled  Olivieri  to  restore  a  good  deal 
of  the  text.  One  emendation  shows  it  was  dedicated 
to  L.  Calpurnius  Piso  Caesoninus.f 

In  1906,  M.  J.  Nicole,  of  Geneva,  published  part, 
as  far  as  possible,  of  the  Latin  text  of  a  papyrus 
giving  a  catalogue  of  works  of  art  preserved  in 
some  place,  or  places,  in  Rome  under  the  Empire.  J 

The  writing  agrees  with  second  century  script, 
and  though  much  of  it  is  undecipherable,  some 
interesting  parts  of  the  list  survive.  For  instance, 
a  Hercules  Gr(lyconi)s  appears,  and  if  the  reading  is 
correct  shows  that  the  Farnese  Hercules  found  in  the 
sixteenth  century  was  in  Rome  in  the  second. 

Many  figures  of  Egyptian  deities  are  enumerated. 
The  provenance  of  some  of  the  pieces  is  given.  Thus 
one  is  said  to  have  been  brought  from  Bithynia 
and  another  from  Grordium. 

M.  Nicole  detected  references  to  Apelles  and 
Protogenes,  and  so  the  catalogue  must  have  included 
paintings.  As  the  Glycon  Hercules  is  recorded 
it  is  quite  possible  the  papyrus  was  an  inventory 
of  the  artistic  contents  of  Caracalla's  Baths. 

Several  papyri  have  been  found  at  various  times 
detailing  disputes  between  the   Roman  officials  at 

*  Leipzig  :  Teubner,  1909. 

f  For  additions  to  the  author's  "Rbetorica"  see  Ed.  S.  Sudhaus' 
"  Pliilodemus  Yolumina  Rhetorica  Supplemental' 

+  '  Un  Catalogue  d'Oeuvres  d'Art  Conservees  a  Rome  a  l'hpoque 
Imperiale.'     Geneva  :  Georg,  1906. 

VOL.    XXXI.  11§ 


156  RECENT   DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

Alexandria  and  Jewish  citizens  there.  The  docu- 
ments at  Berlin  and  Cairo  have  been  published  by 
Reinach  in  the  '  Revue  des  Etudes  Juives,'  vol.  xxxvii, 
and  by  Wilcken  in  the  '  Proceedings  of  the  Saxon 
Academy,'  vol.  xxvii,  No.  23.  They  chiefly  refer  to 
Isidorus,  Avillius,  Flaccus,  and  a  Dionysius. 

All  these  names  occur  in  Philo's  work  "  Adversus 
Flaccum."  The  papyri  chiefly  relate  to  the  trial  of 
Isidorus.  A  third  manuscript  concerning  these 
Anti-Semite  disturbances  at  Alexandria  is  in  '  Oxy- 
rhynchus  Papyrus,'  1089,  and  Flaccus  and  Isidorus 
are  alluded  to  in  it.  Also  a  certain  ytoaidg,  whom 
Dr.  Hunt  suggests  was  a  Jewish  Elder,  a  member 
of  the  Hebrew  citizens'  council  at  this  period,  of 
which  Philo  writes. 

In  <  Philologus,'  1910,  pp.  321-6,  C.  F.  H. 
Brachmann,  by  the  help  of  scholia  upon  Aristo- 
phanes' "Clouds,"  967,  where  the  poet  mentions  an 
ancient  hymn  to  Athena,  and  also  by  comparison 
with  a  hymn  of  Callimachus,  restores  the  probable 
words  of  the  opening  of  the  old  hymn. 

Classic  commentators  had  assigned  it  to  Lam- 
procles  and  Phrynichus. 

His  reconstruction  is  as  follows  : 

EviniXriKa  7tot<(cXj/sw,  7roAejuaSoKOv  a-yvav, 
rrcuSa  Aioc  /uityaXov  Sa/ndanrirov,  irapuevov  alei." 

Additional  fragments  from  philosophical  works 
to  those  given  in  Muller's  "  Fragmenta  Philoso- 
phorum  Graecorum "  are  given  for  the  earliest  of 
such  authors  by  H.  Diels  in  his  '  Fragmente  der 
Vorsokratiker,'  1903,  Berlin.  Among  others  of 
minor    importance    he    adds    five     extracts    from 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE.     157 

Anaxagoras,  one  from  Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  three 
from  Hecatens  of  Abdera,  and  one  from  Pherecydes. 

In  the  interesting  work  npon  classical  astronomy 
and  astrology, '  Sphaera;  Texte  und  Untersuchungen 
zu  Geschichte  der  Sternbilder,'  by  Herr  Franz  Boll, 
he  prints  several  inedited  works  or  portion  of  snch. 
These  chiefly  concern  Asclepiades  of  Mylea,  Nigidius 
Figulus,  and  a  so-called  Babylonian  astronomer 
Tencer  or  Tencros,  an  extract  from  whose  work  is 
preserved  relating  to  the  thirty-six  Decans.* 

These  astrological  treatises  on  the  Decans  e'ene- 
rally  furnish  the  special  title  of  each,  and  often  a 
description  of  his  pictorial  representation.  Then 
follow  lists  of  the  several  parts  of  the  body  they 
preside  over,  and  the  amulet  to  be  provided  to  protect 
each  part  from  disease,  and  other  magic  injunctions. 

'  Tebtunis  Papyrus,'  No.  274  bears  four  frag- 
ments of  an  astronomical  calendar  recording  move- 
ments of  the  planets  with  reference  to  the  zodiacal 
signs  in  a  series  of  years  partly  in  the  reigns  of 
Trajan  and  Hadrian. 

The  remains  are  much  mutilated,  but  can  fortu- 
nately be  completed  by  means  of  some  demotic 
tablets  published  by  Brugsch  half  a  century  ago. 

The  date  of  the  Greek  document  is  about  115  a.d., 
and  it  is  an  interesting  relic  for  the  history  of 
astronomy. 

*For  ancient  treatises  npon  the  Decans  see  C.E.  Ruelle  in  'Revue 
de  Philologie,'  1908,  "  Hermes  a  Asclepios  le  Livre  Sacree  sur  les 
Decans."  He  uses  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale  superior  MSS. 
'Parisinus'  2256  and  2502.  The  statements  of  Strabo  and  Pliny 
that  the  Greeks  obtained  much  astronomy  from  Kidenas,  a  Baby- 
lonian, has  recently  been  confirmed  by  a  cuneiform  tablet  of  eighteen 
columns  of  writing  giving  lunar  calculations,  bearing  his  name 
Kidinnu. 


158     RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

Herr  C.  Wesseley,  in  the  'Sitzungberichte'  of  the 
Vienna  Academy,  vol.  clxii,  published  the  literary 
contents  of  a  papyrus  roll  found  alongside  a 
mummy.  The  style  of  script  is  early,  about  the 
second  century  B.C.  The  writing  gives  three  little 
treatises  of  a  kind  doubtless  very  common  at  that 
era.  The  first  is  an  "  Astrologia,"  describing  the 
stars,  but  this  work  is  incomplete,  only  the  part 
o-ivina-  the  name,  the  size,  and  the  colour,  with  the 
duration  of  their  revolution  for  the  five  planets 
remaining. 

The  second  is  a  list  of  "  Semeia,"  or  signs  appor- 
tioning time,  such  as  the  moon,  falling  stars,  the 
sun,  etc.  The  third  piece  is  a  "  Parapegma,"  or 
astronomical  calendar,  commencing  at  the  date  of 
the  Egyptian  month  Thoth. 

Herr  Wesseley*  shows  it  is  a  Greek  work  adapted 
to  suit  Egyptian  readers,  and  is  subsequent  to 
Aratus. 

In  vol.  i  of  the  "  Catalogue  of  Greek  Papyri  in 
the  John  Rylands  Library,"  manuscript  27  pre- 
serves three  columns  of  an  astronomical  treatise. 
The  first  two  are  an  abstruse  mathematical  calcula- 
tion of  how,  after  a  given  number  of  days  have 
elapsed,  the  day  can  be  reckoned,  according  to  the 
Egyptian  calendar,  on  which  a  lunar  erroyri't  occurs,  and 
secondly,  the  corresponding  longitude  and  latitude 
when  it  will  take  place. t 

*  C.  "Wesseley,  '  Bruclistiicke  einer  antiken  Schrift  iiber  "Wetter- 
zeeihen.' 

f  In  the  '  Revue  Archeologique,'  1910,  p.  140,  M.  Gabriel  Ancey 
proves  by  means  of  an  epigram  of  Crinagbras  in  the  '  Anthologia 
Palatina,'  vi,  244,  which  mentions  an  eclipse  of  the  moon,  that 
Selene,  wife  of  Juba,  died  on  March  22nd,  B.C.  2. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     159 

The  iiroyrrj  was  a  term  for  the  position  occupied 
by  a  heavenly  body,  and  in  this  case  they  are  for 
those  of  the  moon  in  apparently  its  annalistic  revolu- 
tion from  perigee  to  perigee. 

Two  methods  for  solution  are  formulated,  a  long 
and  a  shorter  one, but  they  remain  somewhat  obscure. 

Duplicate  chronological  periods  are  also  given, 
which  Prof.  Smyly  thinks  are  from  the  eras  of 
Philip  and  Commodus. 

The  third  column  furnishes  formulae  for  finding- 
the  dates  for  solstices  and  equinoxes  upon  the 
Egyptian  calendar.  These  are  based  upon 
Ptolemy's  observations,  and  much  resemble  the 
'  Syntaxis  Mathematical 

In  the  '  Revue  de  Philologie,'  vol.  xx,  M.  A. 
Martin  printed  a  posthumous  article  by  C.  Graux 
upon  some  unpublished  fragments  of  Lydus,  "  Ueol 
<W»jju6iwi>,"  which  are  in  the  King  of  Spain's  library. 
These  were  reviewed  by  Wachsmuth  in  the  Rhei- 
nisches  Museum,  vol.  lii,  "  Ein  neues  Fragment  aus 
Lydus'  Schrift,"  '  De  Ostensis.' 

It  is  not  intended  to  summarise  here  many  in- 
teresting notes  upon  remains  of  later  authors,  or  of 
magical  and  astrological  writers  whose  productions 
are  in  most  respects  worthless  ;  but  mention  should 
be  made  of  an  article  published  some  years  ago  by 
Brinkmann  in  the  Rheinisches  Museum,  in  which 
he  studies  the  question  of  who  Avas  a  certain 
Aristokratos,  who  wrote  a  "  Theosophy."  * 

He  is  particularly  mentioned  at  the  end  of  the 
renunciatory  formulae  which  converted  Manicheans 

*  See  F.  Boll,  "  Spliaera,  Neue  Griechische  Texte  zur  Geschichte 
der  Sternbilder." 


160     RECENT  DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

were  forced  to  repeat ;  as  one  of  the  authors  whose 
book  was  recited  in  an  "  Index   Librorum  Prohibi- 

tornm "    as    forbidden.       Brinkmann    believes   the 
work  is  identical  with  one  with  the  same  title  from 
which    pieces    are    reproduced  in  the  "  ycrja/nm  twv 
'EWnviKwv  "  published  by  Buresch  in  '  Klaros,'  1889, 
under  the  title  "  Untersuchungen  zum  Orakelwesen." 
Seven  columns  of  a  papyrus,  containing  a  kind 
of  a  geographical  and  biographical  encyclopaedia, 
were  in   1904  edited  by  Professor  Diels.     Islands 
and     rivers,    mountains    and    natural   objects    are 
enumerated,  as  well   as  sculptors,  artists,  painters, 
architects,  law-givers,  and  engineers.    Several  nota- 
bilities are  new  to  us,  and  others,  though  known, 
yet    apparently   of    slight    talent,    appear   here    as 
deserving  a  better  reputation.      The   onomasticon 
of    sculptors    and    architects,    however,    has    been 
infinitely  more   augmented  by  the  new  names    of 
such  workers   derivable  from  the  immense  mass  of 
inscriptions   from    Delos,    Delphi,    Pergamos,    and 
elsewhere. 

Papyrus,  British  Museum,  256,  contains  Greek 
verses  upon  the  battle  of  Actium  and  Octavian's 
entrance  of  Egypt,  in  addition  to  Mr.  F.  G.  Kenyon's 
edition  of  it  in  the  Catalogue  ;  he  also  published  it 
in  '  Revue  de  Philologie,'  1895,  with  notes  by  M. 
Henri  Weil.  Biicheler  thinks  it  is  by  Crinagoras. 
Dr.  Krebs,  in  'Hermes,'  1895,  pp.  141-150,  pub- 
lished a  fragment  of  a  novel  concerning  Metiochus 
and  Parthenope. 

A  fragment  among  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus,' 
written  in  a  good  uncial  character  of  about  the 
second  century,  has  been  most  cleverly  restored  by 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     161 

the  late  Henri  Weil,  who  thinks  it  the  effort  of 
some  Cynic  Alexandrian  poet  repeating  the  doctrines 
of  Antisthenes,  or  Diogenes. 

A  free  translation  of  the  piece  is  as  follows  : 

"  When  mortals  exchanged  an  easy  life  for  one  of  labor's 
durance,  they  were  about  as  sensible  as  was  Glaucos,  the 
Lycian,  when  he  eagerly,  that  thoughtless  one,  accepted  a 
suit  of  armour  worth  nine  oxen  in  exchange  for  one  valued 
at  100. 

"  Beforetime  they  forged  not  a  pick,  or  massive  hatchet, 
nor  hoe  with  two  sharp  teeth  in  order  to  work  like  a 
quarryman  who  pierces  the  mountain,  to  turn  over  the 
flinty  earth.  They  cast  not  the  grain  into  the  furrow. 
They  laboured  not,  with  oxen,  the  fallow  land,  gift  of  the 
Nile,  stream  of  mysterious  sources.  Without  work  they 
possessed  the  oaks  produced  by  the  soil  and  the  acorns, 
man's  most  primitive  food." 

These  sentiments  are  similar  to  some  ideas 
expressed  by  Hesiod  when  relating  the  gradual 
progress  of  the  human  race.  To  him  the  "  golden 
age  "  was  that  of  the  highest  antiquity,  and  he  con- 
sidered things  had  changed  for  the  worse. 

Speaking  of  man  cultivating  the  soil  and  goading 
oxen  at  the  plough  as  "  sweating  under  the  labour 
imposed  by  the  gods  upon  mankind,"  some  lines 
of  his  almost  recall  the  Pelasgians,  on  entering 
Greece,  changing  from  a  hunting,  or  pastoral,  into 
an  agricultural  people : 

"  Who  settled  near  by  the  sea 
Or  in  the  vale  far  from  its  foaming  waves : 
And  at  the  foot  of  the  gloomy  ravine 
Turned  up  the  fruitful  soil." 

But  the  following  extract  from  a  poem  of 
Euphorion,    to    be    found   in    the    Diclot    series    of 


L62     RECENT   DISCOVERIES  OF   CLASSICAL  LITERATURE. 

fragments  of  the  classics,  is  a  much  more  literary 

achievement,     and     expresses     distinctly    opposite 

ideas : 

"  There  was  a  time  when  mortals  lived  like  brutes 
In  caves  and  unsecured  hollows  of  the  earth, 
For  neither  house,  nor  city,  flanked  with  towers, 
Had  then  been  reared.     No  ploughshare  cut  the  clod 
To  make  it  yield  abundant  harvest ;  nor 
Were  vines  ranked,  and  trimmed  with  pruning  knives, 
But  fruitless  births  the  sterile  earth  did  bear. 
Men  on  each  other  fed,  with  mutual  slaughter, 
For  law  was  feeble,  violence  enthroned, 
And  to  the  strong  the  weaker  fell  a  prey." 

In  1897  Messrs.  Grenfell  and  Hunt  published 
twenty-five  lines  from  a  work  by  Pherecydes  of 
Syros,  who  has  been  termed  the  oldest  Greek  prose 
author.  It  is  identified  as  being  by  him  because 
some  of  the  lines  are  quoted  as  from  Pherecydes 
by  Clement  of  Alexandria.*  These  first-known 
lines  concerned  the  making,  by  Zeus,  of  an  em- 
broidered veil,  upon  which  was  depicted  earth  and 
ocean,  and  they  had  been  considered  to  represent 
part  of  the  philosopher's  conception  of  the  creation 
of  the  earth,  and  so  to  be  an  extract  from  his 
Cosmogany. 

Some  sixteen  lines  of  the  new-found  text  show 
this  view  to  be  erroneous.  The  veil  described  Avas 
a  veritable  one  presented  by  Zeus  to  Hera  a  few 
days  after  their  nuptials,  and  the  work  in  which 
the  extract  of  Clement  occurred  was  Pherecydes' 
account  of  the  marriage  of  Zeus  and  Hera. 

The  other  lines  now  to  hand  are  also  from  the 
same    book.     These    fragments    are    sufficient    to 

*  '  Stromateis,'  vi,  p.  621. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF    CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     163 

present  an  appreciation  of  the  nature  of  this  primitive 
Hellenic  prose.* 

The  '  Hibeh  Papyri,'  of  which  Part  I  appeared 
in  1906,  gives  about  twenty-five  lines  of  sentences 
excerpted  from  Epicharmus,  probably,  as  the  classics 
said,  selected  by  Axiopistus.  If  this  is  so  the  latter 
writer  was  very  early,  because  the  papyrus  itself  is 
certainly  as  old  as  B.C.  250. 

The  last  legible  sentence  reads  :  "  I  composed  this 
work  of  art  in  order  that  men  may  say  '  Epichar- 
mus was  a  wise  man  who  put  many  witty  sayings  of 
every  kind  into  single  verses,  giving  proof  of  his 
talent.' '  The  selection  is  from  a  gnomic  poem  in 
trochaic  tetrameters  similar  to  citations  of  Epichar- 
mus in  Xenophon  and  Aristotle,  and  seems  to  con- 
firm the  statement  of  Philochorus  that,  although  the 
bulk  of  Epicharmus'  works  had  perished,  a  collection 
of  extracts  from  them  was  well  known. 

A  rather  late  work,  the  treatise  upon  tactics 
by  Nicephorus  Phocas,  which  explains  all  that  was 
thought  useful  for  a  commander  of  an  army  to  know 
in  Byzantine  times,  both  as  regards  the  organisation 
of  his  forces  and  the  rules  for  conducting  a  cam- 
paign, has  been  edited  from  the  papers  of  Charles 
Grraux  by  M.  Albert  Martin.  The  text  of  this 
treatise,  which  was  discovered  in  the  Escurial 
Library  hj  Grraux,  was  highly  valued  by  him,  but  he 
only  lived  to  publish  three  chapters  and  partly  edit 
the  remainder.  The  editors  were  assisted  in  their 
work  somewhat  by  other  manuscripts  at  Belle  and 

*  '  New  Classical  Fragments  and  other  Greek  and  Latin  Papyri,' 
Oxford,  1897,  '  Un  Nonveau  fragment  de  Pherecydes  de  Syros,' 
Henri  Weil. 


164     RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITE H ATURE. 

Madrid.  The  merit  of  the  book  from  the  classical 
side  lies  in  its  containing  many  extracts  from 
ancient  writers  on  military  subjects,  and  historians.* 

A  fragment  of  papyrus  puplished  by  Mr.  Kenyon 
in  the  '  Revue  de  Philologie,'  1897,  p.  1,  and  by  M. 
Paul  Girard  in  'Revue  des  Etudes  Grecques,'  xi, 
31,  gives  some  interesting  notes  on  the  education 
of  Spartan  youths,  f  and  apparently  throws  new 
light  upon  some  passages  in  Book  VI  of  Plato's 
'  Laws.' 

In  the  '  Archiv  firr  Papyrusforshung,'  iii,  Dr. 
Cronert  published  some  almost  unreadable  morsels 
of  a  text  of  a  drama  referring  to  Jason  and  Medea. 
He  suggests  it  is  from  the  "  Medea  "  of  Neophron, 
but  this  is  merely  a  surmise. 

At  a  seance  of  the  French  Academy  in  1894 
Monsieur  de  Mely  showed  that  behind  several  manu- 
scripts of  alchemist  writings,  upon  the  formation  of 
minerals,  which  mediaeval  writers  ascribed  to  Aris- 
totle, there  really  is  an  Aristotelian  basis.  He 
mentions  more  particularly  a  manuscript  at  Liege, 
edited  by  Rose,  which  is  a  translation  of  an  Arabic 
work  in  the  '  Bibliotheque  Rationale.' 

Another  version  is  a  Latin  text,  No.  16142  in  the 
same  collection. 

The  residuum  beneath  the  alchemistic  vagaries 
refers  to  the  formation  of  minerals  and  of  fossils, 
especially  animal  bones  of  marine  type  being  found 

*  Graux,  Ch.,  "  Traite  de  Tactique  connu  sous  le  titre.  Tlipl 
Karaa-rcKJiwQ  awXij^Tov.  Traite  de  castrementation  redige  par  ordre  de 
Nicepkore  Phocas-Texte  grec  medit  annote,"  par  C.  Graux  et 
augniente  d'une  preface  par  Albert  Martin  'Notices  et  Extraits  des 
manuscripts,'  torn,  xxxv,  1898. 

f  '  Un  Texte  Inedit  sur  la  Cryptie  des  Lacedemoniens.' 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE.     165 

upon  mountains,  as  being  proof  of  the  perpetual 
movement  of  land.  Also  of  volcanic  and  diluvial 
effects  upon  mountains. 

In  1892  M.  P.  Kerameus  published  fragments  of 
a  lost  historian  discovered  by  him  in  a  manuscript  at 
Jerusalem.  This  is  thought  to  be  part  of  a  work 
by  Amyntianus,  a  second  century  historian  mentioned 
by  Photius. 

The  Eoman  imperial  edicts  already  mentioned 
are  richly  completed  by  one  entitled  by  M.  Nicolle, 
who  first  edited  it,  '  Le  Livre  du  Prefet,  on  l'Edit 
de  1'Empereur  Leon  le  Sage.' 

It  concerns  the  corporations  at  Constantinople  and 
is  a  most  important  document  for  Roman  Law,  dis- 
closing the  transformation  of  the  old  Roman  muni- 
cipal law  into  the  later  Byzantine.  It  is  a  thirteenth 
century  copy  of  a  tenth  century  text. 

Lest  it  should  be  thought  that  an  author  has  been 
slighted,  the  publication  by  G.  Kroll  in  1908  of  the 
'  Anthologiarum '  of  Vettius  Valens,  a  worthless 
astrological  book,  is  duly  chronicled.  Who  he  was  and 
when  he  wrote  we  do  not  know,  nor  whether  many 
writers  he  professes  to  quote  ever  existed.  The 
aphorisms  and  portents  he  enumerates  and  certifies 
as  veracious  because  copied  from  Orpheus,  Moses, 
Hipparchus  or  strange-named  Egyptian  seers  and 
scientists  may,  in  fit  company  of  those  of  other 
charlatans,  be  found  in  the  excellent  '  L'Astrologie 
Grecque '  of  M.  Bouche-Leclercq. 

The  following  notes  upon  small  pieces  of  works 
edited  in  various  philological  journals  are  of  the 
nature  of  a  bibliography  of  minor  memoranda  upon 
the  subject.     In   these   cases  the    shortness  of  the 


166     RECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE. 

extracts  available  in  each  case  renders  the  supposed 
attributions  very  hazardous. 

Among  the  Florentine  papyri  given  by  D.  Com- 
pared i  in  the  first  volume  of  '  Papiri  Fiorentini, 
publicata  della  R.  Academia  dei  Lincei,'  1908,  is 
some  portion  of  a  commentary  upon  a  lost  play  of 
Aristophanes,  perhaps  the  "Triphales,"  or  the  Typaz. 

In  '  Hermes,'  30  (1895),  Dr.  Krebs  and  G.  Kaibel 
and  C.  Robert  printed  a  fragment  from  a  romantic 
story  of  Metiochns  and  Parthenope,  giving  part  of  a 
dialogue  between  them  and  some  other  person. 

A  piece  of  a  dramatic  mime,  or  poetic  prose,  of 
interest  is  to  be  found  in  Dr.  B.  P.  Grenf  ell's  '  An 
Alexandrian  Poetic  Fragment  and  Other  Greek 
Papyri,'  Oxford,  1S96. 

In  '  Hermes,'  41,  p.  103,  etc.,  is  a  papyrus  frag- 
ment almost  certainly  by  Scylax  of  Caryanda  (see 
J.  B.Bnry,  'The  Ancient  Greek  Historians,'  p.  25). 

Little  attention  has  been  given  here  to  lapidary 
inscriptions,  the  writings  contained  in  which  are  but 
seldom  of  the  nature  of  literature,  excepting  perhaps 
the  hundreds  of  epitaphs  of  a  poetical  nature, 
many  of  which  it  would  seem  are  scarcely  original, 
but  based  upon  some  anthology  provided  for  the 
purpose  of  selection  for  sepulchral  use. 

There  are,  however,  many  long  inscriptions  of  an 
historical  nature,  containing  Roman  Imperial  edicts 
and  letters  to  cities  and  provinces,  which  would 
form  several  volumes  of  carefully  composed  official 
phraseology. 

Of  the  Hellenistic  era  there  is  a  text  from  Scepsis  * 
of  some  115  lines   giving  a  letter  from  Antigonus, 

*  J.  A.  R.  Munro,  '  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,'  1899,  pp.  330-340. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     167 

"  Monophtholinus,"  to  the  citizens,  and  their  decree 
of  honour  to  the  monarch  in  reply,  which  is 
certainly  historical  literature,  being  a  welcome 
addition  to  what  is  known  of  this  period  from 
Diodorus.  In  it  the  king  explains,  from  his  point 
of  view,  the  cause  and  the  course  of  the  negotia- 
tions between  himself,  Casander,  Lysimachus,  and 
Ptolemy,  leading  up  to  the  treaty  of  311  B.C.  He 
amply  dwells  upon  the  benefits  he  had  secured 
for  the  Greeks,  especially  at  the  Hellespont  con- 
ference of  313-12  e.g.,  describes  all  the  peace 
overtures,  and  enumerates  the  plenipotentiaries  and 
their  proposals  and  arguments. 

He  asserts  that  he  first  made  a  preliminary 
arrangement  with  Lysimachus  and  then  one  with 
Casander  and  Ptolemy,  and  claims  to  have  secured 
the  successful  result.  The  honorary  decree  con- 
ferred upon  Antigonus,  which  is  preserved,  is  not 
of  much  importance. 

The  '  Corpus  of  Greek  Inscriptions,'  vol.  xix, 
1097-1098  and  1098«,  has  apparently  a  list  of 
writers  of  Attic  comedies,  probably  inscribed  in 
some  public  library.     It  may  be  a  copy  of   Calli- 

macllUS      ir'iva    Kara    ypovovq     rcou     air       aoytiq     ytvofikvov 

SicaaKaXojv  (see  '  Rheinisches  Museum,'  lx,  p.  425). 
Another  inscription  found  at  Tegea  and  printed  in 
the  '  Bulletin  Correspondance  Hellenique  '  for  1900 
gives  a  list  of  Euripidean  dramas  ;  two  of  these,  the 
"  Achelous  "  and  "  Achilles,"  are  lost. 

A  paean  to  Dionysius  found  in  an  inscription  at 
Delphi  and  edited  by  M.  Weil,  '  Etudes  de  Litera- 
ture Grecque,'  is  said  in  the  text  to  be  by  a  poet 
Philodamos  of  Scarphia. 


168     KKCKNT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

In  the  '  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,'  1907,  F.  W. 
Hasluck  edits  an  inscription  found  near  Cyzicus. 
It  is  in  two  columns,  amounting  to  thirty  lines.  Each 
of  the  lines  contains  an  aphorism.  The  text  is  of  the 
late  epoch,  but  some  of  the  aphorisms  may  be  older. 

In  treating  of  the  papyrus  catalogue  of  Olympian 
victors  allusion  was  made  to  the  recovery  of  a 
further  instalment  of  the  inscription  known  as  the 
'  Parian  Chronicle.'  This  addition  affords  much 
historical  information,  and  the  chief  new  items  should 
be  given. 

They  are  facts  as  to  Ptolemy,  of  Nicoaeon,  of 
Cyprus ;  and  Agathocles  of  Syracuse.  Also  literary 
events,  such  as  the  triumphs  of  the  comic  poets, 
Menander  and  Philemon,  and  the  date  of  the  death  of 
an  unknown  poet,  Sosiphanes  (not  the  Alexandrian 
of  that  name),  as  306  B.C.  Some  physical  pheno- 
mena are  recorded,  such  as  the  eclipse  of  310  B.C., 
au  earthquake  in  Ionia  in  304,  and  the  comet  of 
303  B.C. 

The  correct  synchronism  of  these  astronomical 
phenomena  with  concurrent  historical  events  in  this 
eventful  period  is  of  great  importance.  Thus 
this  very  portion  of  the  '  Parian  Chronicle '  is 
astronomically  ascertained  to  be  a  year  in  error  as 
to  the  date  it  assigns  to  the  battle  of  Arbela,  because 
that  is  definitively  decided  by  the  lunar  eclipse, 
which  took  place  upon  September  20th,  b.c  331, 
eleven  days  before  the  battle,  while  the  inscription 
dates  the  Greek  victory  a  year  sooner.* 

*  For  many  of  the  most  historically  memorable  inscriptions  see 
C.  Michel,  '  Recueil  descriptions  Grecques  pour  servir  a  l'Etude  de 
THistoire  et  des  Institutions  de  la  Grece  Ancienne.'  Bruxelles: 
Lamertin,  1898. 


RECENT   DISCOVERIES   OF   CLASSICAL   LITERATURE.     169 

Strange  to  say,  the  '  Oxyrhynchus  Chronicle ' 
puts  Arbela  a  year  too  late.  Arrian,  however,  gives 
the  correct  year  by  telling  us  it  was  the  year  of  the 
Athens  archonship  of  an  Aristophanes,  and  we  know 
from  other  sources  that  he  was  in  office  in  B.C.  331. 
Thus  were  it  necessary  Arrian  may  be  said  to  con- 
firm the  eclipse. 

The  newly  suggested  illustrations  of  classic  litera- 
ture by  vase  paintings  and  sculpture  in  some  cases 
deserve  notice.* 

Thus  Herr  Winter  lias  shown  that  the  fourth 
"  Pythian  "  of  Pindar  was  probably  influenced  by  the 
sculptures  at  Olympia.  What  the  poet  writes  of 
Kyrene  is  connected  with  the  female  fronton  figures, 
and  the  account  of  Jason  with  the  labours  of 
Hercules  depicted  in  the  Metopes. 

In  the  '  Weiner  Jahreschrift '  for  1909,  Hauser,  in 
an  article  upon  "  Aristophanes  and  Ancient  Vases," 
shows  how  they  mutually  illustrate  each  other. 

Herr  Sitte  has  written  upon  the  newly  found 
statue  of  a  wounded  Niobid  and  a  verse  of 
Euripides'  "  Hecuba,"  and  also  upon  a  vase  in  the 
British  Museum,  which  depicts  the  "  Hari  Kari " 
of  Polyxena,  as  described  in  the  "  Hecuba "  ;  the 
twenty  rather  broken  lines  of  a  Greek  tragedy, 
which  are  almost  certainly  from  the  "  Niobe "  of 
Sophocles. 

The  213th  '  Oxyrhynchus  Papyrus  '  shows  that  the 
well-known  Pompei  fresco  is  a  scene  from  this  play. 
Many  incidents  in  works  still  lost  can  be  recon- 
structed from  vase  paintings,  such  as  the  murder 

*  See  "  Lessons  from  Greek  Pottery,"  by  John  Homer  Huddilston, 
for  previously  noted  instances. 


170     RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OP    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 

of  Troilus  by  Achilles,  told  in  the  "  Cypria,"  which 
is  frequently  depicted  upon  vases,  notably  upon  one 
at  Philadelphia  and  another  at  Vienna. 

Sophocles  wrote  a  tragedy,  "  Triolus,"  and  some 
of  the  vase  pictures  are  probably  from  its  scenes, 
and  not  illustrating  the  "  Cypria." 


INDEX  OF   AUTHORS. 


Aelius  Promotus,  62 

Aeschines,  83 

Aeschylus,  24,  18,  25,  51,  86,  91 

Aetius  of  Ameida,  62 

Afrieanus  Julius,  87 

Agathemes  of  Lacedemon,  65 

Agathon,  24 

Akron,  64 

Alcaeus,  21,  26,  27 

Alexander  PhUalethes,  64 

Ammonius,  26 

Amyntianus,  109 

Anacreon,  86 

Anaxagoras,  101 

Anaximenes,  45,  51 

Androtion,  35,  51 

Antimachus,  25 

Antiphon,  4,  5-6 

Antisthenes,  105 

Apion,  91,  92,  94 

Apollonius,  24 

Apollonius  of  Alexandria,  82 

Apollodorus  of  Carystus,  68 

Appian,  60 

Archilochus,  25,  90,  91 

Aratus,  30 

Archimedes,  7,  8,  9 

Aristanaetus,  28 

Aristarchus,  26,  48 

Aristocrates,  103 

Aristophanes,  24,  25,  26,  34,  57,  69 

100,  110 
Aristotle,  14,  26,  35,  51,  86,  107 
Aristoxenus,  27,  65,  76 
Arrian,  113 
Artemidorus,  63 
Asclepiades  of  Mylea,  101 
Astydamus,  24 
Athanasius,  54 


Athenaeus,  43,  68 
Aurelius  Ptolemaios,  25 
Axiopistus,  107 

Bacchylides,  14,  15,  16,  17,  18,  30,  89 
Blemyomachia,  39,  42 
Bryon,  51 

Caecilius  Calactinus,  81,  84 
Callimachus,  27,  28,  29,  41,  45,  49,  86, 

92,  100,  111 
Callisthenes,  51 
Cedrenus,  56 
Celsus,  65 
Cercidas,  30,  97 
Christodorus,  40 
Claudian,  40 
Cleidemos,  24 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  57 
Constitutia  Antoniniania,  93 
Cosmos  Indicopleustes,  53 
Corrinna,  21 
Cratinus,  24,  25,  32 
Cratippus,  35,  36,  79 
Crinagoras,  102,  104 

Democritus,  83 

Demon,  51 

Demonax,  24 

Demosthenes,  21,  39,  44,  49,  82 

Dictys  Cretensis,  56 

Didymus,  37,  38,  44,  84-92 

Diocles  of  Carystus,  64 

Diodorus,  36,  37 

Diodorus  Periegetes,  80 

Diogenes,  87,  105 

Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  101 

Diogenes  of  Babylon,  80 

Diogenes  Laertius,  87 

Dion  Cassius,  61 


-■> 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE 


Dionysius.  80,  92 

Dionysius  of  Halicaraassus,  37,  45 

Dionysius  of  Sidon,  26 

Diophantus,  12 

Dioscuros,  23,  39,  40 

Dositheus.  s.  10 

Douris,  51 

Epapkroditus,  14 

Ephorus,  35,  3(5 
Epicliarmus,  34,  107 

Epictetus,  38 

Epicurus,  94 

Eratosthenes,  7,  8 

Etymologicum  Magnum,  81 

Euclid,  13 

Euphorion,  105,  21 

Eupolis,  24,  25,  34 

Euripides,  22,  24,  31,  57,  58,  69,  75, 

81,  92 
Eusebius,  89 
Eutropius,  60 
Excerpta  Barbari,  54,  55 

Fabius  Pictor,  81 
Florus,  60 
Frontinus,  61 

Galen,  62,  64 

Hecateus,  101 
Heliodorus,  62 
Hellanicus,  83 
Heracleides, 
Herinippus,  34,  51 
Hermogenes,  81 
Hero,  11,  14 
Herodotus,  87 
Herondas,  14 
Hesiod,  26,  105 
Hesychias,  30 
Hierocles,  38 
Hippias  of  Elis,  74,  89 
Hipponax,  30,  91 
Homer,  41,  48,  88,  92 
Hipparchus,  109 
Horace,  91 

Ion  of  Chios,  24,  83 
Isyllos,  73 


John  the  Deacon,  Si 
Julius  Afrieanus,  87,  88 
Justinian,  93 

Kolotes,  96 
Kolluthos,  40 
Konon,  8 

Lamprocles,  100 
Lexicon,  25 
Livy,  59,  60 
Lycophron,  23 
Lydus,  103 
Lysias,  82,  83 

Malalas,  56 
Manilius,  22 
Marsyas,  51 
Melampus,  63 
Menander,  23,  65,  66 
Menedemos,  96 
Menon,  64 
Metrodorus,  95 
Museaus,  20 

Neophron,  96,  108 
Nieander,  21 
Nicephoras  Phocas.  107 
Niconxachus,  24 
Niconiedes, 
Nigidius  Figulus,  101 
Nonnus,  40,  41 

Obsequens,  61 
Olympiodorus,  40 
Orosius,  60 
Obriasius,  62 
Origen,  27 

Pancrates,  43 

Paneprios,  40 

Pappixs,  11,  12 

Parian  Chronicle,  20,  S9 

Paulus  Agineta,  62 

Pausanias,  89 

Pherecydes,  101 

Philemon,  50,  72,  112 

Philistionr64 

Philo,  100 

Philo  of  Byzantium,  13 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE.         173 


Philochorus,  37,  51,  82,  89 

Philodamus  of  Scarphia,  112 

Philodemus,  75,  99 

Philoumenus,  62 

Philoxenus,  30 

Plilegon  of  Tralles,  89 

Phoenix  of  Colophon,  96 

Photius,  17,  24 

Phrynichus,  24 

Pindar,  14,  17,  26,  30,  77,  78,  86,  89 

Plato,  61,  95,  108 

Plantus,  72 

Plutarch,  24,  77,  87 

Poliorkitika,  38 

Polyaenus,  87 

Poly bius,  60 

Posidippus,  97 

Posidonius,  11 

Prasis,  56 

Praxidamus,  11 

Praxiphanes,  27 

Protagoras,  26 

Ptolemy,  12,  76,  98,  103 

Ptolemy  of  Ascalon,  26 

Sappho,  21,  23 

Scylax  of  Caryanda,  110 

Septimius,  56 

Sextus  Empiricus,  75 

Sidonius  Apollinarius,  68 

Simonides,  83,  86 


Sophocles,  18,  22,  25,  51 
Sosiphanes,  112 
Sosylus,  97,  98 
Sotades,  86 
Soterichos,  94 
Stesichorus,  25,  26 
Stobaeus,  38,  57 
Strabo,  25 
Suidas,  88 

Terence,  68 

Teucer,  101 

Theodosian  Code,  55 

Theophrastus,  83,  84 

Theopompus,  35,  36,  38,  84 

Thespis,  24 

Thucidydes,  4,  21,  36,  84,  87 

Timocles,  51 

Timon,  25 

Timotheus,  78 

Tzetzes,  8 

Valerius  Maximus,  60 
Vettius  Valens,  109 
Vitruvius  Kufus,  14 

Xenomenes,  28 
Xenophanes,  25,  107 
Xenophon,  35-37,  84 

Zenodotus,  25 


To  be  affixed  to  page  173  in  Trans.   R.8.L.,   Vol.  XXXI, 
Part  ii. 

This  Index  was  made  for  the  Author's  Keprints  and  has 
been  included  without  correction  of  the  page  references.  It  is 
necessary  to  add  56  to  the  numbers  given. 


172        LtECENT    DISCOVERIES   OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 


Dionysius,  80,  92 

Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  37,  45 

Dionysius  of  Sidon,  26 

Diophantus,  12 

Dioscuros,  23,  39,  40 

Dositheus,  8,  10 

Douris,  51 

Epaphroditus,  14 

Ephorus,  35,  36 

Epicharmus,  34,  107 

Epictetus,  38 

Epicurus,  94 

Eratosthenes,  7,  8 

Etymologicum  Magnum,  81 

Euclid,  13 

Euphorion,  105,  21 

Eupolis,  24,  25,  34 

Euripides,  22,  24,  31,  57,  58,  69,  75, 

81,  92 
Eusebius,  89 
Eutropius,  60 
Excerpta  Barbari,  54,  55 

Fabius  Pictor,  81 
Florus,  60 
Frontinus,  61 

Galen,  62,  64 

Hecateus,  101 
Heliodorus,  62 


John  the  Deacon,  81 
Julius  Africanus,  87,  88 
Justinian,  93 

Kolotes,  96 
Kolluthos,  40 
Konon,  8 

Lamprocles,  100 
Lexicon,  25 
Livy,  59,  60 
Lycophron,  23 
Lydus,  103 
Lysias,  82,  83 

Malalas,  56 
Manilms,  22 
Marsyas,  51 
Melampus,  63 
Menander,  23,  65,  66 
Menedemos,  96 
Menon,  64 
Metrodorus,  95 
Museaus,  20 

Neophron,  96,  108 
Nicander,  21 
Nicephoras  Phocas.  107 
Nicornachus,  24 
Niconiedes, 
Xigidius  Figulus,  101 
Nonnus,  40,  41 


RECENT    DISCOVERIES    OF    CLASSICAL    LITERATURE. 


1  *7'"> 
1  /O 


Philochorus,  37,  51,  82,  89 
Philodamua  of  Scarphia,  112 
Philodemus,  75,  99 
Philoumemis,  G2 

Philoxenus,  30 

Phlegon  of  Tralles,  89 

Phoenix  of  Colophon,  96 

Photius,  17,  24 

Phryniehus,  24 

Pindar,  14,  17,  26,  30,  77,  78,  86,  89 

Plato,  61,  95,  108 

Plautus,  72 

Plutarch,  24,  77,  87 

Poliorkitika,  38 

Polyaenus,  87 

Polybius,  60 

Posidippus,  97 

Posidonius,  11 

Prasis,  56 

Praxidamus,  11 

Praxiphanes,  27 

Protagoras,  26 

Ptolemy,  12,  76,  98,  103 

Ptolemy  of  Ascalon,  26 

Sappho,  21,23 

8cylax  of  Caryanda,  110 

Septimius,  56 

Sextus  Empiricus,  75 

Sidonius  Apollinarius,  68 

Simonides,  83,  86 


Sophocles,  18,  22,  25,  51 
Sosiphanes,  112 
Sosylus,  97,  98 
Sotades,  86 
Soterichos,  94 
Stesichorus,  25,  26 
Stobaeus,  38,  57 
Strabo,  25 
Suidas,  88 

Terence,  68 

Teucer,  101 

Theodosian  Code,  55 

Theophrastus,  83,  84 

Theopompus,  35,  36,  38,  84 

Thespis,  24 

Thucidydes,  4,  21,  36,  84,  87,  92 

Timocles,  51 

Timon,  25 

Timotheus,  78 

Tzetzes,  8 

Valerius  Maximus,  60 
Vettius  Valens,  109 
Vitruvius  Rufus,  14 

Xenomenes,  28 
Xenophanes,  25,  107 
Xenophon,  35-37,  84 

Zenodotus,  25 


12 


ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DRAMA. 

BY    ARTHUK    EUSTACE    MORGAN,    B.A., 
Head  of  English  Department,  University  College,  Exeter. 

[Read  May  22nd,  1912.] 

So  large  is  my  subject  that  it  would  be  quite 
impossible  to  give  even  a  summary  account  of 
domestic  tragedy  in  a  short  paper.  My  references 
to  some  of  the  plays  may  be  more  or  less  detailed, 
but  in  the  main  I  want  to  consider  the  essential 
characteristics  of  this  type  of  drama  and  perhaps  try 
to  raise  a  few  questions  on  the  nature  of  tragedy  at 
large,  so  that  it  may  be  the  easier  to  assign  this 
species  to  its  true  position  in  the  genus. 

If  there  is  a  difficulty  in  drawing  up  a  concise 
definition  which  will  express  accurately  the  charac- 
teristics of  domestic  tragedy,  it  is  no  less  difficult  in 
many  instances  to  decide  whether  or  not  a  play 
should  be  included  in  the  category.  There  are  two 
distinct  types  of  tragedy,  of  which  domestic  tragedy 
is  one.  The  other  and  more  usual  kind  is  concerned 
with  the  lives  of  great  persons — the  ideal  drama,  let 
us  call  it,  that  deals  only  with  the  aspirations  and 
sorrows  of  the  eminent,  often,  if  not  usually,  the 
historically  eminent.  Whether  good  or  evil  the 
characters  are  on  a  lofty  scale — a  scale  loftier  than 
is  found  in  actual  life.  The  object  of  tragedy, 
says  the  heroic  dramatist,  is  to  move  with  pity  and 

vol.  xxxi.  13 


176  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC   DRAMA. 

terror.  Purge  your  characters  of  all  human  little- 
ness, make  them  grandly  virtuous  or  grandly  wicked, 
and  the  catastrophe  will  thereby  be  the  greater. 

Because  a  tragedy  is  thus  invested  with  a  cloak  of 
idealism  it  does  not  follow  that  the  human  element 
is  the  less  true  in  essence.  Iago  is  an  ideal  villain 
and  Othello  sublimely  jealous,  but  Shakspere  has 
none  the  less  laid  bare  in  them  the  heart  of  humanity 
and  shown  us  the  elemental  constitution  of  the  soul 
of  man.  To  say  that  a  drama  is  idealistic  means, 
not  that  the  dramatist  has  failed  to  show  us  the 
internal  truth  of  things,  but  that  he  has  neglected 
to  cloak  this  truth  in  the  matter-of-fact  vesture  that 
it  wears  in  daily  life.  It  is  similar  to  the  method  of 
the  artist  in  marble  or  in  pigments  who  prefers  to 
clothe  truth  of  human  form  and  physical  beauty  in 
some  ideal  drapery  that  pertains  to  no  time  or 
fashion,  rather  than  in  the  actual  clothing  of  man 
or  woman.  He  may  be  accused  of  untruth  in 
detail — he  is  not  realistic ;  but  is  he  therefore  less 
true  to  the  essentials  of  his  art  ?  Yes,  says  the 
realist,  and  proceeds  to  carve  or  paint  his  figure  in 
tweed  suit  or  coat  and  skirt.  Who  can  tell  which 
is  right?  Surely  both  are.  Though  for  one  age 
the  idealist  will  be  righter  and  for  another  age  the 
realist. 

The  ostensible  subject  of  this  paper  is  domestic 
drama,  but  in  fact  it  is  domestic  tragedy.  The 
nature  of  comedy  is  such  that  the  dramatist  wants 
ordinary  men  and  women  as  material  for  his  art. 
As  George  Meredith  would  have  put  it,  comedy 
consists  of  a  chase  in  which  folly  is  the  hare  and 
ridicule  the  hound.     For  great  virtue  and  even  for 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  177 

great  vice  it  is  necessary  to  look  beyond  the  circle 
of  common  life,  but  folly  is  even  at  the  door.  The 
comic  analogue  of  heroic  tragedy  is  farce,  in  which 
is  depicted,  not  the  foolishness  of  human  weakness 
as  it  really  exists  in  life,  but  the  pure  folly  of 
sublime  fools,  who  are  the  heroic  figures  of  ideal 
comedy. 

Now  just  as  there  are  few,  if  any,  comedies  that 
are  altogether  free  of  the  idealistic  tendency  of 
farce,  so  there  are  comparatively  few  tragedies 
which  are  completely,  or  even  to  a  large  extent, 
realistic.  If  a  tragedy  is  to  appeal  to  an  audience 
as  really  like  life,  the  characters  must  be  of  the 
class  that  embraces  ordinary  men  and  women  ;  the 
events,  too,  must  be  familiar  events  that  do  or  might 
befall  ordinary  people.  It  is  this  kind  of  play  that 
has  been  called  domestic  tragedy.  The  difficulty  of 
deciding  whether  a  play  is  domestic  or  not  arises 
from  the  fact  that  the  difference  is  one  of  degree  as 
well  as  of  kind.  Dr.  Johnson  applied  the  term  to 
the  plays  of  Otway  and  RowTe  ;  John  Payne  Collier 
applied  it  to  still  more  realistic  tragedies  in  the 
Shaksperean  age,  such  as  "Arden  of  Feversham" 
and  "A  Warning  for  Fair  Women  "  ;  but  a  modern 
critic  might  reserve  it  for  the  more  truly  realistic 
tragedies  of  Sir  Arthur  Pinero  and  Mr.  Masefield. 
For  want  of  a  more  accurate  term  I  shall  use  it  to 
cover  all  these  types. 

From  the  nature,  then,  of  domestic  tragedy  one 
would  expect  to  find  it  realistic,  though  the  realism 
may  be  of  various  degrees.  A  common  means  of 
obtaining  recognition  of  the  realism  was  to  choose 
some  subject  that  was  true  because  it  had  actually 


178  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC   DRAMA. 

happened.  This  truth  was  often  emphasised  for 
the  purpose  of  strengthening  the  imagination  of 
even  an  Elizabethan  audience  by  an  appeal  to  the 
habitual  human  reliance  upon  historical  fact.  The 
very  first  extant  domestic  tragedy,  "Arden  of 
Feversham,"  a  play  of  unknown  authorship  pub- 
lished in  1592,  is  definitely  called  "The  true  and 
lamentable  tragedy  of  Mr.  Arden  of  Feversham  in 
Kent."  In  "  A  Warning  for  Fair  Women,"  a  play 
based  on  a  well-known  murder  committed  in  1573, 
Tragedy,  in  her  concluding  speech,  says  expressly, 
"that  now  of  truth  I  sing."  Ford,  Dekker  and 
Rowley  called  their  "Witch  of  Edmonton"  "a 
known  true  story." 

In  the  eighteenth  century  R.  Philips  in  his  "  Fatal 
Inconstancy,"  a  domestic  tragedy  of  little  merit, 
says  :  "  I  confined  myself  to  the  truth  .  .  .  every- 
thing is  represented  according  to  the  original,  and 
reality  of  the  story,  which  is  not  in  the  least 
fictitious,  except  in  some  part  of  the  fifth  act." 
G-eorge  Lillo's  "  Fatal  Curiosity,"  one  of  the  best  of 
the  eighteenth  century  contributions  to  this  type  of 
drama,  is  expressly  called  "a  true  tragedy."  And  to 
mention  one  more,  the  anonymous  "  Fair  Parricide  " 
(1752)  is  called  "  a  tragedy  of  three  acts  founded 
on  a  late  melancholy  event." 

The  true  event  usually  chosen  was  some  crime 
that  had  lately  been  before  the  public.  These 
tragedies,  like  the  broadsides  and  ballads  of  the 
day,  served  the  purpose  of  giving  the  people  what 
it  always  loves — a  sensational  story.  Consequently, 
sufficiently  lurid  details  of  the  original  crime  were 
introduced    into    the    play  to   give    the    necessary 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  179 

flavour  demanded  by  the  public;  and  these  details 
made  the  piece  appear  the  more  realistic. 

In  tragedy  the  plot  depends  as  a  rule  on  the 
collision  of  human  passions  either  with  other  human 
passions  or  with  the  conventions  and  laws  of  society. 
The  dramatist  who  desires  an  awe-inspiring*,  terror- 
striking  catastrophe  will  produce  a  situation  that 
only  death  can  resolve.  The  basis  of  the  tragedy 
may  rest  on  crime,  as  in  "  Hamlet,"  where  the 
passion  of  revenge  collides  with  the  passion  of 
ambition,  and  only  the  death  of  Hamlet  and 
Claudius,  with  the  death  of  Gertrude  to  satisfy 
morality,  loosens  the  complication.  It  is,  we  are  led 
by  Shakspere  to  believe,  the  filial  duty  of  Hamlet  to 
take  life  from  the  taker  of  life.  Now  in  the  real 
world  such  is  not  the  convention,  nor  as  a  rule  the 
actual  practice.  The  convention  is  to  delegate  to 
the  officers  of  the  law  the  duty  of  punishing  the 
murderer.  In  domestic  tragedy,  therefore,  it  is 
extremely  common  to  find  that  the  finale  of  a  play 
is  the  dock,  the  gaol,  or  even  the  scaffold.  What  a 
realistic  effect  a  modern  manager  might  produce  if 
he  cared  to  pander  to  a  sordid  taste  and  let  the 
curtain  fall  on  a  court  scene — a  scene  familiar  to 
frequenters  of  the  Old  Bailey — the  judge  still  wear- 
ing the  black  cap,  and  the  condemned  man 
disappearing  down  to  the  cells.  "  The  final  act  in 
the  great  drama  "  the  halfpenny  papers  used  to  call 
it  before  criminal  appeal  was  invented.  But  in 
former  times  the  final  act  was  carried  to  a  more 
gruesome  finish,  and  it  was  not  the  dock  but  the 
scaffold  that  was  the  scene  on  which  the  curtain 
fell. 


180  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA. 

Iii  "  Arden  of  Feversham "  all  the  conspirators 
who  have  contributed  to  the  murder  of  Arden  are 
detected  in  their  crime  and  hurried  off  at  the  Mayor's 
command    to    speedy    execution.     So    also    in    "  A 
Yorkshire    Tragedy  "  and  in  "  The  Witch  of  Ed- 
monton "  the  murderers    are    led    away   to    death. 
Yarington's  "  Two  Tragedies  in  One"— an  interesting 
but  somewhat  confused  mosaic  formed  by  alternate 
scenes    from    two    distinct    plots,    with    Homicide, 
Avarice  and  Truth  as  chorus — furnishes  an  example 
of  a  plot  ending  with  a  court  scene,  in  which   the 
guilty  father  and  the  son   who  sheltered  him  are 
condemned    to    death.     Such    is    the    end    of    the 
Italian   story;    but  the   English   tragedy   which  is 
interwoven    with    it,   has  a   still    more    sensational 
finish,  for  the  actual  execution  of  Merry,  the  mur- 
derer,   seems    to    have  been  represented.      In  "A 
Warning  for  Fair  Women  "  Captain  Browne  is  the 
gay  young  Irish  officer  who  falls  in  love  with  the 
beautiful  wife  of  Mr.  George  Sanders.     Mrs.  Sanders 
reciprocates   this  love    and    Sanders   is   murdered. 
Browne's  guilt  is  discovered,  he  is  condemned  and 
brought  to  execution.     The  scaffold  was  apparently 
on  the  stage,  the  noose  was  around  his  neck,  and, 
according  to  a  gruesome  stage-direction,  He  leapes 
off.     Even  as  late   as   the   eighteenth   century  one 
finds  Lillo's  "The  London  Merchant  "  closing  with  a 
gallows    scene,    though   there    was    no    attempt    to 
represent    the    actual    execution.       It    must    have 
ended  with   a  wonderful    scaffold   tableau  such   as 
even  nowadays  is  far,  far  the  best  way,  if  not  the 
only  way,  to  impress  a  certain  type"  of  audience. 
Now  what  was  it  that  made  people  turn  from  the 


ENGLISH    DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  181 

conventional  ideal  tragic  method  to  write  these 
realistic1,  domestic  dramas?  The  answer  is  easily 
found  and  obvious.  There  were,  I  believe,  two 
reasons,  and  cogent  reasons  they  would  be.  The 
first  and  ostensible  reason  was  to  warn  people  from 
evil  by  showing  them  dramatically  the  terrible  con- 
sequences of  sin.  The  second  reason,  never  put 
forward  but  perhaps  none  the  less  a  reason  for  all 
that  was,  as  has  already  been  said,  to  provide  the 
public  with  what  it  likes  best — a  thoroughly  sensa- 
tional plot.  Make  the  punishment  evident  enough, 
satisfy  the  demands  of  dramatic  morality  by  rewarding 
distressed  innocence  and  discomfiting  the  villain, 
and  an  English  middle-class  audience  will  accept 
with  relish  the  most  sordid  story.  One  would  be 
inclined  to  think  this  for  no  other  reason  than  that 
in  the  large  majority  of  cases  the  author  of  a 
domestic  tragedy,  particularly  if  it  be  somewhat 
appalling  in  its  catastrophe,  is  at  pains  to  urge  the 
didactic  purpose  of  the  play.  But  perhaps  such  a 
judgment  is  unfair,  for  one  knows  well  that  nothing 
really  is  dearer  to  the  heart  of  an  English  writer  than 
to  be  able  to  enforce  a  moral.  What  is  even  the 
most  modern  fiction  or  drama  but  didactic  ?  In 
England  we  know  no  art  that  exists  only  for  its  own 
sake.  Even  such  an  artist's  artist  as  Shelley  was 
struggling'  to  hasten  the  advent  of  millennium;  and 
with  all  his  humour  Mr.  Shaw  is  a  born  preacher. 
It  is  said  that  the  eighteenth  was  the  century  of 
didacticism,  but  it  seems  as  if  it  would  be  outdone 
by  the  twentieth.  Even  the  earliest  writers  of 
domestic  tragedy  are  careful  to  insist  on  the  moral 
value  of  their  work,  and  to   point   out  clearly  the 


182  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DKAMA. 

ethical  purpose.  The  very  title  of  "  A  Warning 
for  Fair  Women  "  expresses  a  didactic  aim,  but  the 
author  does  not  consider  that  enough.  The  fatal 
certainty  of  punishment  is  one  of  the  definite 
purposes  of  the  play. 

Then  see  I  well,  that  be  it  near  or  further 

That  heaven  will  still  take  due  revenge  on  murther. 

And  with  his  last  words  Browne,  the  murderer, 
repentant  like  all  the  villains,  bids — 

All  careless  men  be  warned  by  my  end  : 
And,  by  my  fall,  your  wicked  lives  amend. 

It  is  curious  that,  although  these  dramatists  are 
in  many  ways  so  boldly  realistic,  they  should  in 
many  respects  be  so  conventional.  Evidently  the 
audience  would  not  have  tolerated  an  unrepentant 
criminal,  a  Don  Juan  swallowed  up  sins  and  all ; 
for  it  is  the  common  practice  to  reconcile  the  victim 
with  his  fate,  even  to  make  him  confess  his  guilt  in 
cases  where  it  would  be  awkward  to  have  to  prove 
it,  and  in  quite  a  number  of  instances  he  departs 
with  the  sure  hope  of  everlasting  joys.  In  this  very 
play,  "  A  Warning  for  Fair  Women,"  Mrs.  Sanders, 
who  is  executed  for  complicity  in  the  murder, 
addresses  a  long  religious  speech  of  repentance  to 
the  chaplain.  Her  last  moments  are  spent  in 
administering  a  moral  disquisition  to  her  children  : 

Oh,  children,  learn  ;  learn  by  your  mother's  fall, 
To  follow  virtue,  and  beware  of  sin 
Behold,  my  children,  I  will  not  bequeath 
Or  gold  or  silver  to  you,  you  are  left 
Sufficiently  provided  in  that  point ; 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  183 

But  here  I  give  to  each  of  you  a  book 
Of  holy  meditations,  Bradford's  works, 
That  virtuous  chosen  servant  of  the  Lord. 
Therein  you  shall  be  richer  than  with  gold ; 
Safer  than  in  fair  buildings  ;  happier 
Than  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world  can  make  you. 
Sleep  not  without  them,  when  you  go  to  bed, 
And  rise  a  mornings  with  them  in  your  hands. 
So  God  send  down  his  blessing  on  you  all. 
Farewell,  farewell,  farewell,  farewell,  farewell ! 

"  The  Miseries  of  Enforced  Marriage"  likewise  shows 
its  purpose  in  its  title.  This  purpose  is  further 
expressed  by  one  of  the  characters  : 

Yet  when  thy  tale  has  killed  me, 
0  give  my  passage  comfort  from  this  stage, 
Say  all  was  done  by  enforced  marriage  : 
My  grave  will  then  be  welcome. 

The  same  point  was  emphasised  in  the  eighteenth 
century  by  J.  Armstrong's  "  Forced  Marriage,"  a 
play  "  which  was  written,"  he  says,  "  chiefly  with 
a  view  to  expose  a  most  cruel  and  absurd  piece  of 
tyranny  too  common  in  life."  In  "  Two  Tragedies 
in  One  "  Merry's  sister,  Rachel,  who  was  guilty  of 
concealing  her  brother's  crime,  is  about  to  be  exe- 
cuted.    The  author  makes  her  utter  a  useful  moral : 

Let  me  be  mirror  to  ensuing  times, 

And  teach  all  sisters  how  they  do  conceal, 

The  wicked  deeds  of  brethren,  or  of  friends. 

"  A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindness  "  and  "  The  Witch 
of  Edmonton  "  would  also  provide  instances  were  it 
worth  while  multiplying  examples.  If  the  early 
dramatists  were  didactic,  the  eighteenth  century 
writers  were  doubly  so.     There  is  at  least  this  to 


184  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA. 

be  said  for  modern  didacticism,  that  the  writer  will 
credit  his  audience  with  some  powers  of  inference, 
whereas  in  the  eighteenth  century  the  moral  was 
rammed  home  with  dreadful  care  and  conscientious- 
ness. Lewis  Theobald,  the  writer  of  one  domestic 
tragedy,  "  The  Perfidious  Brother,"  would  frankly 
have  the  stage  converted  into  a  pulpit.  In  the  pro- 
logue it  is  said  that  the  author — 

Wishes  lie  might  once  behold 
The  tragic  scene  be  what  it  was  of  old. 
When  plays  were  wrote  guilt's  triumphs  to  control ; 
And  poets  laboured  to  improve  the  soul. 
If  then  instruction  was  the  stage's  aim, 
That  lesson  must  be  best,  which  most  could  claim  : 
In  this,  if  aught,  our  author  hopes  he  may 
Assume  some  little  merit  from  his  play. 

It  would  be  too  long  a  business  to  quote  from  the 
many  eighteenth  century  domestic  tragedies  that 
are  expressly  didactic.  But  Lillo's  plea  on  behalf 
of  domestic  tragedy  on  grounds  chiefly  didactic  is 
too  important  to  be  omitted.  Lillo  is  certainly  the 
most  considerable  writer  of  domestic  tragedy  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that 
he  wrote  three,  whereas  no  one  else,  with  the  possible 
exceptions  of  Aaron  Hill  and  an  obscure  poet  called 
John  Hewitt,  wrote  more  than  one.  His  word, 
therefore,  demands  attention.  If  Lillo's  first  and 
long-admired  play,  "  The  London  Merchant,"  is 
still  admired,  it  is  despite  its  being  a  painfully 
moral  drama.  It  is  a  warning  to  young  men  to 
beware  of  the  temptations  of  the  strange  woman. 
George  Barnwell,  the  honest  and  trusted  apprentice 
of  Thorowgood,  falls  into  the  hands  of  Millwood,  a 


ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DItAMA.  185 

woman  who  works  on  his  sense  of  chivalry  and 
tempts  him  to  steal  his  master's  money  to  save 
her  from  fictitious  creditors.  With  seductive  wiles 
she  leads  him  on  till  he  at  length  adds  murder 
to  theft,  by  killing  his  uncle  whom  he  hopes  to 
rob.  He  is  arrested,  and  after  heart-rending 
scenes  of  repentance  and  parting,  he  suffers  the 
utmost  penalty  on  the  same  scaffold  as  the  impeni- 
tent Millwood.  In  his  Dedication  to  Sir  John 
Eyles,  Lillo  makes  a  strong  appeal  for  didacticism  in 
tragedy.  To  begin  with,  he  affirms  that  the  end  of 
tragedy  is  "  the  exciting  of  the  passions,  in  order  to 
the  correcting  such  of  them  as  are  criminal,  either 
in  their  nature,  or  through  their  excess."  This 
argument  is  then  used  in  support  of  domestic 
tragedy.  "  What  I  would  infer  is  this,  I  think, 
evident  truth ;  that  tragedy  is  so  far  from  losing 
its  dignity  by  being  accommodated  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  generality  of  mankind,  that  it  is  more 
truly  august,  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of  its 
influence,  and  the  numbers  that  are  properly  affected 
by  it  .  .  .  If  princes,  etc.,  were  alone  liable  to 
misfortunes  arising  from  vice  or  weakness  in  them- 
selves or  others,  there  would  be  good  reason  for 
confining  the  characters  in  tragedy  to  those  of 
superior  rank ;  but  since  the  contrary  is  evident, 
nothing  can  be  more  reasonable  than  to  proportion 
the  remedy  to  the  disease."  He  appeals  to  Shak- 
spere  for  support  of  his  theory,  and  cites  the  instance 
of  the  play  by  means  of  which  Hamlet  catches  the 
conscience  of  the  king.     He  quotes  Hamlet's  words  : 

I've  heard  that  guilty  creatures  at  a  play 
Have,  by  the  very  cunning  of  the  scene, 


186  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA. 

Been  so  struck  to  the  soul,  that  presently 
They  have  proclaim'd  their  malefactions. 

Shakspere,  he  says,  "  seems  so  firmly  persuaded 
of  the  power  of  a  well-written  piece  to  produce  the 
effect  here  ascribed  to  it,  as  to  make  Hamlet 
venture  his  soul  on  the  event,  and  rather  trust  that, 
than  a  messenger  from  the  other  world,  though  it 
assumed,  as  he  expresses  it,  his  noble  Father  s  form, 
and  assured  him  that  it  was  his  spirit.  1*11  have, 
says  Hamlet,  grounds  more  relative ; 

the  plays  the  thing, 
Wherein  I'll  catch  the  conscience  of  the  king." 

Lillo  is  here  voicing,  after  the  lapse  of  more  than 
a  century,  an  idea  quite  common  in  Elizabethan  and 
Jacobean  times.  In  his  Apology  for  Actors,  (1612) 
Heywood  pleaded  on  behalf  of  play-acting  on 
precisely  similar  grounds,  and  cited  two  cases  where 
guilty  persons  had  betrayed  their  guilt  on  seeing 
the  performance  of  a  crime  similar  to  theirs.  In 
one  case,  at  Lynn  in  Norfolk,  a  woman  who  had 
murdered  her  husband  wTas  condemned  in  her 
conscience  by  seeing  "  The  History  of  Friar  Francis  " 
and  confessed  her  crime.  In  a  second  instance,  a 
woman  at  Amsterdam  betrayed  her  guilt  on  seeing 
the  representation  of  the  last  part  of  "  The  Four 
Sons  of  Aymon."  The  case  of  the  woman  of  Lynn 
is  also  referred  to  in  "  A  Warning  for  Fair  Women," 
which  has  already  been  noted  as  one  of  the  most 
strenuously  didactic  domestic  dramas  of  the  first 
period. 

Be  the  reason  what  it  may,  the  fact  remains  that 
realism  is  the  salient  feature   of  domestic  tragedy. 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  187 

I  have  already  suggested  that  the  writer  of  ideal 
tragedy  usually  chose  characters  greater  than  those 
of  ordinary  life  in  order  to  heighten  the  effect  of  the 
catastrophe.  But  mere  convention  was  largely 
responsible.  Tragedy  was  considered  a  very  great 
form  of  art  and  its  dignity  had  at  all  costs  to  be  main- 
tained. The  dramatist  could  take  no  risks  of  con- 
tempt which  might  arise  from  a  familiar  subject,  so 
he  carefully  chose  scenes  and  subjects  unreal 
enough  to  keep  the  critical  at  bay.  We  have  seen 
how  this  was  effected  as  regards  the  characters  who 
were  chosen  from  ranks  sufficiently  far  removed 
from  the  class  to  which  the  audience  belonged.  But 
there  were  other  methods  which  the  tragic  writer 
would  employ  to  produce  this  glamour  of  idealism. 
Not  even  nobles  or  kings  would  have  felt  that  they 
were  familiar  with  the  characters  of  the  tragedy. 
These  characters  were  great  in  more  than  rank ; 
they  were  great  in  so  far  as  they  were  purified  of 
the  dross  of  daily  life — for  even  sovereigns  and 
heroes  have  daily  lives.  A  common  method  for 
heightening"  the  idealism  was  to  remove  the  scene  of 
the  action  to  distant  times  or  places,  though  this 
difference  must  appeal  more  strongly  to  us  nowadays 
than  to  spectators  in  days  when  stagecraft  aimed 
but  little  at  exactness  of  local  colour.  Nevertheless, 
it  must  detract  from  the  realism  of  a  play  if  the  story 
is  about  people  whom  we  know  to  have  lived  centuries 
ago  and  leagues  away,  especially  if  their  names  are 
foreign  and  unfamiliar.  Even  in  pla}^s  that  for  no 
historic  reason  need  thus  have  been  removed  in 
time  and  space,  it  was  a  common  practice  to  situate 
a  tragedy  in  Italy,  and  in  many  cases  to  give  fan- 


188  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA. 

tastic,  foreignish  names  to  characters  otherwise 
supposed  to  be  English. 

In  the  early  domestic  tragedies,  however,  this 
convention  was  usually  ignored.  Indeed  we  might 
well  refuse  to  call  a  tragedy  domestic  in  the  strict 
sense,  unless  the  story  and  characters  were  English. 
"  The  Changeling  "  of  Middleton  and  Rowley  is  one 
of  these  borderland  plays :  it  is  really  domestic  in 
plot,  but  as  in  "  Othello,"  the  characters  are  to  some 
extent  heroic  or  at  least  ideal,  and  the  scene  and 
persons  are  Spanish.  Apart  from  "  The  Changeling  " 
there  are  seven  plays  in  the  early  period  of  domestic 
tragedy.  But  for  "  The  Witch  of  Edmonton,"  which 
was  probably  written  in  the  third  decade  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  these  tragedies  belong1  to  the 
twenty  years  between  1590  and  1610.  All  these 
seven  plays  are  concerned  with  English  stories — 
crime  stories  as  we  have  seen — with  the  exception 
of  the  Italian  half  of  Yarington's  "  Two  Tragedies 
in  One." 

In  the  second  period,  which  comprises  about  a 
century  from,  say,  1680,  it  was  the  exception  to 
deal  with  English  subjects.  The  fact  is  that  the 
majority  of  plays  that  might  be  called  domestic  are 
really  not  domestic  tragedies  in  the  strict  sense. 
They  are  domestic  in  theme,  but  the  manner  is  so 
little  realistic  and  the  setting  often  so  unfamiliar, 
that  they  can  really  only  be  included  in  the  half-way 
group  of  semi-domestic  tragedies.  Such  tragedies 
as  Otway's  "  The  Orphan,"  Rowe's  "  Fair  Penitent," 
Southern's  "  Fatal  Marriage,"  oi\  Centlivre's  "  The 
Perjured  Husband " — the  four  late  seventeenth 
century  domestic  dramas — all  belong  to  this  type. 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA.  189 

Such  a  play  as  "  The  Orphan  "  shows  very  clearly 
the  difference  between  the  two  manners  of  treat- 
ment. Nothing  could  be  more  truly  domestic  than 
the  subject,  but  the  language  is  high-flown  and 
bombastic,  the  story  is  conducted  in  the  manner  of 
the  conventional  drama,  with  action  that  is  denuded 
of  any  circumstances  or  events  that  would  tend  to 
particularise  the  characters.  The  place  is  not 
specified,  but  the  names  of  the  persons  are  Italian. 
In  both  Rowe's  "Fair  Penitent"  and  Centlivre's 
"  The  Perjured  Husband  "  there  are  a  few  references 
that  show  that  Italy  is  the  scene  of  the  stories, 
whilst "  The  Fatal  Marriage  "  takes  place  at  Brussels. 
But  this  realty  means  nothing.  The  truth  is  that 
the  dramatist  wishes  to  draw  characters  on  universal 
lines,  if  one  may  so  say ;  he  wants  to  strip  them 
of  any  national,  local  or  even  personal  idiosyncrasies. 
Consequently  he  chooses  foreign  scenes  and  foreign 
names  that  he  may  do  this  the  more  easily.  If  a 
play  is  ostensibly  English  there  is  more  necessity 
for  making  the  characters  recognisable  in  detail  as 
well  as  in  essence ;  but  if  this  obligation  is  removed 
he  will  be  free  to  treat  his  play  in  as  idealistic  a 
manner  as  he  pleases.  Therefore  one  must  not 
expect  to  find  Italian  local  colour  in  a  play  in 
which  the  scene  and  names  are  nominally  Italian  : 
to  treat  his  work  realistically  would  defeat  the  whole 
object. 

There  are,  however,  examples  even  in  the  con- 
ventional eighteenth  century  of  realism  triumphing 
so  far  as  to  produce  a  play  in  which  the  action  is 
purely  and  truly  English.  Lillo's  three  plays  and 
Moore's  "  The  Gamester  "   are  the  most  important 


190  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA. 

realistic  English  tragedies  ;  but  "Fatal  Inconstancy" 
(1701)  by  R.  Philips,  Mitchell's  "  Fatal  Extrava- 
gance" (1720),  Thomas  Cooke's  "Mournful  Nup- 
tials" (1739),  "The  Fair  Parricide"  (1752),  an 
anonymous  play,  G.  E.  Howard's  "The  Female 
Gamester"  (1778),  and  Cumberland's  "Mysterious 
Husband"  (1783)  are  all  in  greater  or  less  degree 
supposed  to  be  English  in  scene  and,  in  some  cases,  in 
characterisation.  "The  London  Merchant"  which, 
as  we  saw,  deals  with  true  facts,  was  based  on  the 
ballad  of  "  George  Barnwell  "  ;  and  there  is  express 
reference  made  in  the  play  to  Elizabethan  affairs,  so 
that  one  is  able  to  realise  the  period  of  the  story. 
In  Lillo's  "  Fatal  Curiosity,"  which  was  written  on 
the  facts  of  a  Jacobean  story,  the  plot  is  drawn  from 
Falkland's  'Annals,'  a  late  seventeenth  century  folio 
in  which  the  story,  as  published  in  1612  in  a  pam- 
phlet, was  preserved.  There  is  quite  as  much  local 
colour  introduced  into  this  tragedy  as  into  "  The 
London  Merchant,"  and  there  is  little  difficulty,  even 
from  reading  the  play,  in  feeling  something  of  the 
atmosphere  of  the  Cornish  fishing-village  where  the 
actual  events  took  place.  His  third  play,  "  Arden  of 
Feversham,"  was  borrowed  frankly  from  the  older 
play  of  the  same  name. 

It  is  the  older  plays  that  are  particularly  rich  in 
local  colour.  In  several  there  is  a  very  marked 
country  atmosphere  enveloping  the  whole  play. 
They  have  the  free  expansiveness  of  English  rural 
life.  In  "  The  Witch  of  Edmonton  "  the  country- 
folk bring  with  them  the  breath  of  the  meadows  and 
the  music  of  the  streams;  in  UA  Woman  Killed 
with  Kindness"  there  is  a  picture  of  English  country 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  191 

sports  in  the  hawking  match,  and  a  feeling  of  the 
open  air  invests  the  whole  play.  So,  too,  in  "  Arclen 
of  Feversham"  and  "  A  Yorkshire  Tragedy  "  one  is 
carried  unmistakably  into  the  circumstances  of 
English  rural  life.  It  is  not  always  the  life  of  the 
country,  however,  that  is  the  subject  of  realistic 
treatment.  In  "  Two  Tragedies  in  One,"  in  "  A 
Warning  for  Fair  Women,"  and  in  Lillo's  "  The 
London  Merchant  "  the  life  of  the  city  is  depicted 
with  vividness  and  accuracy  of  detail.  But  in  the  bulk 
of  the  eighteenth  century  domestic  dramas,  although 
sometimes  the  scene  is  specified,  there  is  none  of  that 
feeling  of  illusion.  One  knows  in  abstract,  because 
one  has  been  told,  that  the  action  is  going  on  in  this 
or  in  that  place,  but  our  senses  receive  no  impres- 
sion and  we  believe  only  by  a  mental  effort. 

Realism  was  not  confined  to  description  of  place 
Often,  alas,  the  telling  details  in  the  early  plays 
were  more  or  less  sordid.  In  the  English  part  of 
"  Two  Tragedies  in  One  "  there  is  a  revolting  descrip- 
tion of  the  dismembering  of  his  victim  by  Merry,  the 
murderer.  The  gaming  scene  in  "  Arden,"  in  which 
Mr.  Arden  is  trapped  by  the  conspirators  and 
presently  attacked  and  murdered,  is  somewhat  less 
gruesome,  though  sufficiently  terrible.  Another 
gaming  scene  in  "  A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindness  " 
is  an  example  of  careful  realism  ;  "A  Warning  for 
Fair  Women  "  shows  similar  tendencies ;  but  of  all 
scenes  I  know  none  more  striking  in  its  attention 
to  detail  than  the  wonderfully  realistic  bedroom 
scene  in  "  The  Witch  of  Edmonton."  Frank  Thorney 
has  murdered  Susan,  to  whom  he  had  unwillingly 
bound  himself.      Having  wounded  himself  slightly 

VOL.    XXXI.  14 


L92  ENGLISB    DOMESTJC    DRAMA. 

for  appearances,  in  the  manner  of  Falstaff  and  his 
paladins,  he  is  in  bed,  and  Kathleen,  the  sister  of 
Susan,  nurses  him.  The  whole  scene  is  worked  up, 
not  elaborately,  but  with  telling  touches  of  realism. 
Finally,  she  brings  him  some  chicken  to  eat  and 
he  produces  his  knife  to  carve.  Instantly  her  quick 
eye  notices  the  blood-stains  on  it;  she  guesses  the 
truth  and  thus  all  is  brought  to  light. 

A  frequent  mode  of  increasing  the  realism  was  to 
introduce  children  into  the  tragedy,  or  to  point  out 
through  the  speakers  how  the  children  of  the  guilty 
parent  would  be  involved  in  the  catastrophe.     This 
device  served  another  purpose  at  the  same  time,  for 
it  helped  also  to  heighten  the  intensity  of  the  remorse 
and  consequently  the  punishment  of  the  guilty.     It 
is  a  striking  enough  lesson  to  see  George  Barnwell 
on  the  scaffold  crushed  with  remorse  and  shame,  but 
how  much  more  terrible   is   it  to   see  Beverley,  in 
Moore's  "  The  Gamester,"  in  the  agonies  of  remorse 
that   are  made  doubly  poignant  by  the  knowledge 
that  in  his  ruin  are  engulfed  his  innocent  wife  and 
children.     I  have  already  referred   to  the  parting 
between  Mrs.  Sanders  and  her  children  in  "  A  Warn- 
in  g  for  Fair  Women."      Innocent  children  likewise 
share  the  sorrow  of  their  ill-used  mother  in  "  The 
Miseries  of  Enforced  Marriage."      In   "  A  Woman 
Killed  with  Kindness  "  children  are  actually  intro- 
duced   on  to  the  stage  and  the  wronged    but  un- 
revengeful  Frankford  shows  them  to  his  wife : 

.     these  infants,  these  young,  harmless  souls, 
On  whose  white  brows  thy  shame  is_  character' d 
And  grows  in  greatness  as  they  wax  in  years     .     .     . 
Look  hut  on  them,  and  melt  away  in  tears  ! 


ENGLISH    DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  193 

But  the  most  ghastly  introduction  of  children  is  in 
"  A  Yorkshire  Tragedy,"  with  which  may  be  com- 
pared "  Fatal  Extravagance,"  an  eighteenth  century 
play  by  Joseph  Mitchell  and  Aaron  Hill,  which  in 
plot  is  based  on  the  same  theme.  The  husband  in 
"  A  Yorkshire  Tragedy  "  is  an  inveterate  gambler. 
Apparently  not  a  bad  man,  except  for  this  one 
terrible  weakness,  he  is  transformed  by  his  ruin 
into  an  unrestrained  monster.  With  the  fury  of  a 
brute  he  decides  to  extirpate  the  shame  he  has 
incurred,  by  murdering  his  whole  family.  He  almost 
kills  his  wife,  actually  butchers  his  eldest  child, 
tears  the  second  from  its  nurse  and  kills  it,  and  is 
setting  out  to  find  the  youngest  to  tear  it  from  the 
breast  and  murder  it  too,  when  his  horse  breaks 
down  and  he  is  overtaken  and  apprehended. 
Browning  employed  the  same  device  when  he  intro- 
duced Strafford's  children  with  great  dramatic 
effect  into  the  scene  of  parting  before  the  execution. 
But  perhaps  no  one  has  made  such  skilful  use  of 
children  on  the  stage  as  M.  Maeterlinck  in  his  beauti- 
ful little  play,  "  L'Interieur." 

On  the  whole  it  may  be  safely  affirmed  that  the 
domestic  dramas  of  the  first  period  are  more 
realistic  than  the  bulk  of  those  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  And  Lillo  is  realistic  because  he  follows 
the  manner  of  the  older  writers.  But  there  is  one 
feature  in  which  the  eighteenth  century  showed 
stricter  realism  than  the  earlier  period — that  some 
of  the  plays  were  written  in  prose.  Even  in  the 
earliest  dramas  there  was  often  an  admixture  of 
prose  to  the  blank  verse,  especially  in  the  parts  that 
were    comic.      In     Southern's    "  Fatal    Marriage," 


L9  I-  ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA. 

Philips's  "  Fatal  Inconstancy  "  (1701),  an  anonymous 
play  called  "The  Rival  Brothers"  (1704),  there  is  a 
similar  use  of  both  prose  and  verse,  but  Lillo  in 
"  The  London  Merchant  "  confined  himself  to  what 
was  ostensibly  prose.  1  say  ostensibly,  because,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  his  prose  is  so  impassioned  and 
lofty  in  diction  that  it  frequently  breaks  into  blank 
verse.  In  the  preface  to  "  The  Mournful  Nuptials  " 
(1739)  Thomas  Cooke  defends  this  use  of  prose 
rising  at  times  into  verse.  "  I  resolved,"  he  says. 
"  not  to  confine  myself  to  either  verse  or  prose ;  nor 
is  there  a  verse  in  it  that  did  not  come  with  the 
same  ease  with  any  of  the  prose  ;  and  I  am  con- 
vinced that  whoever  writes  in  English  on  a  subject 
where  there  is  a  necessity  of  passion  and  images  of 
fancy  he  will  involuntarily  write  a  great  part  of  his 
work  in  verse."  Moore,  in  "  The  Gamester,"  avoided 
blank  verse  with  even  greater  success  than  Lillo. 
His  style  is  distinctly  good,  and  except  for  some 
rare  passages  of  misplaced  loftiness,  he  has  suc- 
ceeded, as  no  other  eighteenth  century  writer  of 
this  type  of  drama  has  succeeded,  in  producing  a 
thoroughly  good  play  in  dignified  but  not  too 
elevated  prose.  Cumberland  in  his  "Mysterious 
Husband"  (1783)  employed  prose  with  success, 
despite  a  tendency  similar  to  Lillo's  of  slipping 
from  pompous  diction  into  verse.  Robert  Porrett's 
"Clarissa"  (1788),  a  worthless  play  based  on 
the  novel  of  Richardson,  is  likewise  written  in 
prose. 

Now  that  the  matter  is  practically  settled  and, 
for  this  age  at  least,  prose  has  been  adopted  as  the 
common  medium  of  domestic  tragedy,  it  is  interesting 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA.  195 

to  note  that  such  a  lover  of  realistic  language  as 
Wordsworth  should  have  hesitated  on  this  point. 
It  is  not  surprising,  perhaps,  that  when  consulted 
by  an  author  who  was  contemplating  a  prose 
tragedy,  Dr.  Johnson  declared  that  he  scarcely 
thought  a  tragedy  in  prose  dramatic;  that  it  is 
difficult  for  performers  to  speak  it ;  that  the  lowest 
when  impassioned  raise  their  language.  "  I  think," 
says  Dibdin,  who  quotes  the  passage,  "  he  had 
better  have  said  their  voices,  for  as  to  the  language 
I  believe  upon  such  occasions  it  is  lowered  even  to 
blackguardism."  Furthermore,  Johnson  believed 
that  the  writing  of  prose  is  generally  the  plea  or 
excuse  of  poverty  of  genius.  But  it  is  surprising  to 
find  AVordsworth,  although  for  another  reason, 
expressing  a  similar  view.  He  thought  that  verse 
was  necessary  to  render  supportable  the  otherwise 
too  great  pathos  of  a  realistic  tragedy,  and  appeals 
to  "the  Reader's  own  experience  of  the  reluctance 
with  which  he  comes  to  the  reperusal  of  the  distress- 
ful parts  of  '  Clarissa  Harlowe '  or  '  The  Gamester,' 
while  Shakspere's  writings,  in  the  most  pathetic 
scenes,  never  act  upon  us,  as  pathetic,  beyond  the 
bounds  of  pleasure."  Without  denying  the  truth 
that  verse  does  reduce  the  poignancy  of  very  pathetic 
parts,  one  would  feel  that  this  objection  is  to  be 
regarded  in  the  light  of  Wordsworth's  own  excessive 
sensibility. 

From  all  that  I  have  cited  from  the  various  plays, 
it  should  be  clear  that  if  any  single  feature  is 
eminently  characteristic  of  domestic  tragedy  it  is 
realism.  There  were  two  periods  of  domestic 
tragedy— what  may  be  called  the  first  and  second 


196  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DRAMA. 

periods;  but  there  is  the  third  and  perhaps  greatest, 
of  which  we  now  arc  witnessing  the  growth.  If 
the  first  two  periods  displayed  a  tendency  towards 
realism,  the  third  or  modern  period  has  made  this 
feature  an  essential.  Yet  after  all,  it  is  but  a 
question  of  degree.  The  drama,  or  indeed  art  of 
any  sort,  ma}r  become  more  and  more  realistic  ;  it 
may  become  more  and  more  illusive  as  an  exact  copy 
of  life ;  but  art  it  will  always  remain,  and  a  copy  is 
but  a  copy.  Many  have  asserted,  but  none  have 
proved,  that  realistic  art  is  best ;  and  still  more  act  as 
if  it  were  their  opinion. 

The  modern  writer  of  tragedy  is  like  the  writers 
of  tragedy  in  general  in  the  main  structure  of  his 
play.  He  admits  that  the  tragedy  shall  consist  of 
certain  events  all  tending  and  tending  only  towards 
the  catastrophe.  Such  a  conception  to  begin  with  is 
grossly  unreal.  In  actual  life  catastrophes  are  rare 
events ;  but  grant  that  they  do  occasionally  happen. 
One  cannot  grant,  however,  that  the  preceding- 
events  ;  in  the  lives  of  the  participators  tend  only  in 
the  direction  of  the  climax.  People  who  in  life 
play  the  parts  of  actors  in  an  actual  tragedy,  must 
necessarily  do  and  say  much  that  is  irrelevant  to 
the  catastrophe.  The  Russian  dramatist,  Anton 
Tchekhof,  has  tried  to  rectify  this  common  breach 
of  realism  by  introducing  talk  and  even  persons  that 
are  almost  irrelevant,  and  he  has  consequently  suc- 
ceeded in  producing  a  wonderfully  convincing 
realism,  though  to  an  English  audience  the  Russian 
setting  and  characters  would  naturally  give  an  air 
of  strangeness.  The  risk  that  a  writer  runs  by 
employing    such    a    device    is    that,    unless   he    is 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  197 

extremely  sensitive,  he  may  commit  the  one  un- 
pardonable offence  in  any  art — the  sin  of  being  dull. 
Tchekhof  seems  to  have  known  by  intuition  or 
practice  the  exact  limit  of  irrelevancy  that  he  might 
touch  without  thus  sinning. 

I  do  not  presume  to  say  that  this  rigid  adherence 
to  relevancy  is  necessary  or  unnecessary.  But  the 
fact  remains  that  scarcely  any  convention  of  the  art 
has  contributed  more  to  dramatic  unrealism.  Yet 
it  is  but  one  of  a  host  of  difficulties,  many  of  them 
unavoidable  and  insuperable,  arising  from  the  essence 
of  stage-playing.  One  difficulty,  quite  as  common 
as  that  of  the  necessity  of  unified  action  and  avoid- 
ance of  irrelevancy,  is  the  obligation  felt  by  most 
dramatists  to  explain  to  the  audience  the  situation 
of  affairs  at  the  point  where  the  drama  begins. 
The  unskilful  artist  will  make  one  person  of  the 
play  tell  another  (for  the  benefit  of  us  who  are 
looking  on)  a  long  story  that  is  neither  interesting 
nor  perhaps  new  to  his  hearer.  The  cunninger 
workman  will  introduce  the  convenient  messenger 
who  can  relate  events  that  even  the  persons  of  the 
play  will  be  glad  to  learn.  The  still  more  accom- 
plished playwright  works  out  a  scene  where  the 
situation  is  self-explained  by  the  play  of  character 
on  character.  Thus  in  "  Much  Ado "  Shakspere 
with  consummate  skill  shows  in  a  short  conversation 
the  exact  relations  between  Beatrice  and  Benedick. 
But  on  the  whole  this  method  of  self-revelation  of 
the  situation  is  not  the  usual  method  with  dramatists. 
If  one  were  suddenly  to  be  introduced  invisible  into 
a  drawing-room  full  of  people  who  were  participa- 
ting, perhaps  unconsciously,  in  some  drama  of  life, 


198  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DHAMA. 

and  were  to  hear  the  conversation  that  went  forward, 
would  we,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  understand  the  situa- 
t  ion,  or  even  comprehend  the  drift  of  the  talk  ?  We 
certainly  should  not  expect  anyone  to  turn  withoul 
any  reason  and  make  an  elucidating  speech  to  his 
neighbour,  so  that  the  unheeded  and  unsuspected 
spectator  might  be  enlightened.  Tchekhof  is  not 
altogether  unmindful  of  this  danger,  and  in  some  of 
his  scenes  he  introduced  somewhat  baffling  dialogues; 
but  for  extraordinary  realism  in  this  respect  I  know 
nothing  more  weirdly  true  than  the  bewildering 
iguorance  in  which  Mr.  Granville  Barker  leaves  the 
spectator  during  the  earlier  scenes  of  "  Waste." 

Such  refinements  of  realism  were  quite  unknown 
to  writers  of  realistic  tragedy  in  former  days,  but 
there  is  still  one  important  and  perhaps   essential 
point  which  shows  clearly  the  change  in  ideas  as  to 
the    principles    of  tragedy.      The  principle   of  the 
common  type  of  tragedy  was,  as  we  noted,  the  pre- 
sentment of  some  great  event  or  events  in  a  great 
life,   of  such   a   kind  that  the   spectator   would   be 
filled  with  awe  if  not  terror.     It  seems  difficult  to 
get  away  from  the  necessity  for  the  inspiration  at 
least  of  awe  in  the  onlooker,  but  there  may  be  other 
ways  of   producing  this  than  by  introducing  great 
events   into   o'reat  lives.     Domestic  tragedy  in  the 
first   and   second  periods   differs  from  this  type  of 
drama  in  that  it  represents,  not  great,  but  ordinary 
characters  ;  but  it  still  retains  the  great  events  which 
were  considered  necessary  for  producing  the  terror. 
But  in    the  newest    type  of   domestic   tragedy  not 
even  the  great  events  are  necessary  :  a  catastrophe 
results  from  the  conflux  of  circumstances  that  in  them- 


ENGLISH    DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  199 

selves  are  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  ordinary 
circumstances  of  life.  A  poor  orphan  stigmatised 
by  the  fact  that  her  father  was  hansfecl  is  unfortn- 
nate  enough  to  have  an  ill-tempered,  jealous  aunt. 
Petty  animosity  develops  into  persecution  ;  a  trifling 
circumstance  alienates  her  only  friend,  her  uncle. 
Life  becomes  a  hell  for  the  wretched  girl ;  passions 
are  aroused  in  her  and  her  persecutors  ;  driven  to 
desperation  by  a  brutal  lack  of  sympathy  she  drowns 
herself ;  and  one  has  Mr.  Masefield's  "  Tragedy  of 
Nan."  To  a  less  extent  one  sees  the  same  thino-  in 
his  "  Campden Wonder,"  or  again  in  Mr.  Galsworthy's 
"  Strife."  Except  for  an  adroit  employment  of 
coincidence  there  is  a  similar  sequence  of  ordinary 
events  in  "  The  Second  Mrs.  Tanqueray,"  and  in 
another  of  Sir  Arthur  Pinero's  plays,  "  Mid- 
Channel." 

I  should  do  wrong,  however,  in  passing  over  one 
eighteenth  century  play,  to  which  I  have  made 
passing  reference,  "  The  Mysterious  Husband  "  of 
Richard  Cumberland.  This  domestic  tragedy  is 
really  of  the  same  kind  as  the  modern  plays  that  are 
dependent  on  the  ordinary  events  of  everyday  life 
for  the  elements  of  tragedy.  It  is  not  possible  to 
give  any  detailed  account  of  this  play,  interesting  as 
it  is  from  an  historical  point  of  view.  As  a  play  it 
is  by  no  means  devoid  of  merit,  and  the  interest  is 
increased  by  its  strange  resemblance  to  "  The  Second 
Airs.  Tanqueray."  Perhaps  resemblance  is  too 
strong  a  term,  but  certainly  there  is  a  distinct 
analogy  between  the  plots.  Suffice  it  to  notice  that 
even  as  early  as  178o  one  finds  this  tendency  to  make 
tragedy  out  of  the  stuff  of  common  life,  and  not,  as 


200  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DEAMA. 

did  the  bulk  of  the  earlier  writers  of  domestic 
traffedv,  find  some  striking  incident,  such  as  a  crime, 
on  which  to  build  a  plot. 

Wluit    was  largely  responsible  for  this   habit  of 
treating  only  of  great  events,  such  as  crimes,  was  a 
misconception  of  life.     Many  dramatists  painted  one 
section  of  the  characters  as  paragons  and  were  con- 
sequently obliged  to   introduce  some   agent  of  the 
wicked  one  to   plunge  the  whole  company  in   ruin. 
Thus  grew  up  the  dramatic   villain,  who   has   now 
brought  himself  to  a  ludicrous  end  through  hyper- 
trophy   in    nineteenth    century     melodrama.       The 
object  of   exhibiting  a  terribly  striking   picture  of 
punished  guilt  was  defeated  by  the  obvious  idealisa- 
tion of  villainy.    Men  and  women  are  rarely  paragons 
or  villains  ;  the  generality  are  creatures  partly  good, 
but  very  weak  and  failing.     The  tragedies  of  life 
result  far  less  from  the  machinations  of  professional 
villains  than  from  the  weaknesses  of  men  and  women 
such  as  we  know  them,  feeble  creatures  with  whom  evil 
is  ever  present  even  when  they  most  would  do  good. 
Writers  of  great  tragedy  know  this.     "  Hamlet  "  is 
not  tragic  because  Claudius  was   a  murderer,  but 
because  the  prince  was  weak.     The  failure  to  under- 
stand this  elementary  truth  of  human  nature  is  one 
of  the    commonest   and  worst  faults  amongst  the 
early  writers  of  domestic  drama,  though  the  greatest 
were  sufficiently  perspicuous  to  avoid  such  an  error. 
Now  it  is  the  result  of  this  reducing  of  the  events 
of  the  play  to  the  same  level  as  the  ordinary  char- 
acters that  makes  modern   tragedj   so   much  more 
realistic    than    early    domestic    tragedy.     Certainly 
there  are  other  causes.     There  is  the  mere  fact  that 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA.  2(>1 

the  dialogue  is  modern  and  consequently  more  like 
what  we  hear  in  our  own  lives ;  and  every  modern 
domestic  tragedy,  moreover,  is  in  prose. 

All  these  are  causes  which  play  an  important 
part  in  producing  a  realistic  effect,  but  there  is  still 
one  more  that  is  of  prime  importance.  In  life  the 
persons  who  act  a  part  in  a  real  tragedy  are  not  as 
a  rule  conscious  of  the  catastrophe  that  approaches. 
They  laugh  and  live  a  life  of  nonchalance  maybe, 
whilst  fate  is  weaving  the  web.  In  other  words, 
life  is  not  in  fact  consistently  sad  any  more  than  it 
is  consistently  gay.  Many  of  the  older  writers  of 
domestic  dramas,  who  were  not  bound  by  any  strict 
notions  of  the  dignity  of  tragedy,  employed  the 
common  means  of  expressing  this  idea  by  a 
mixture  of  tragic  and  comic  scenes.  This  method 
has  been  discussed  with  keenness  for  several  hun- 
dred years  without  agreement  amongst  the  critics. 
Shakspere  and  his  contemporaries  may  have 
admitted  lighter  scenes  into  the  tragedies  merely 
because  they  were  constrained  by  the  public  desire 
for  a  little  laughter  ;  or  they  may  have  thought  that 
unalleviated  tragedy  would  produce  too  keen  a 
pathos  ;  or  still  again  they  may  have  been  trying  to 
represent  the  undoubted  fact  of  life  that  tragedy  in 
reality  is  never  unalloyed.  In  no  early  domestic 
drama  is  there  a  truer  blending  of  tragedy  with  the 
joy  of  life  and  living  than  in  "  The  Witch  of  Edmon- 
ton "  and  "  A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindness."  The 
terrible  stress  of  tragic  events  goes  forward  un- 
heeded by  and  not  affecting  the  lives  of  the  country- 
folk and  neighbours.  The  world  goes  on  as  usual, 
and    with   its    ironical    cheerfulness    heightens    the 


202  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DEAMA. 

terrible  plot  that  is  enimeshing  the  main  figures.  At 
the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century  when  such 
writers  as  Otway  and  Rowe  were  definitely  setting 
themselves  to  copy  the  Shaksperean  manner,  drama- 
tists deserted  the  more  classic  models  of  Dryden 
and  began  to  reintroduce  comic  relief  into  tragedy. 
In  "The  Orphan,"  in  "The  Fatal  Marriage,"  in 
Centlivre's  "  The  Perjured  Husband,"  the  tragic 
scenes  are  interspersed  with  the  grossest  farce,  or 
as  Dr.  Johnson  called  them,  ':  despicable  scenes  of 
vile  comedy." 

In  the  eighteenth  century  the  idea  of  the  dignity 
of  tragedy  was  at  its  highest,  and  though  the 
domestic  dramatists  were  heretical  enough  to  treat 
of  familiar  themes,  they  did  not  as  a  rule  sin  to 
the  extent  of  introducing  a  comic  element.  In 
R.  Philips's  "  Fatal  Inconstancy,"  of  which  mention 
has  already  been  made — a  worthless  play  published  in 
1701 — there  is  a  fantastical  coxcomb  called  Styium, 
who  amuses  by  his  self-satisfied  malapropisms ;  and 
in  Cumberland's  "  Mysterious  Husband  "  the  garru- 
lous old  Sir  Edmund  Travers  supplies  a  fund  of 
humour  which  is  quite  modern  both  in  treatment 
and  effect.  But  I  know  of  no  other  instance  in  the 
domestic  tragedy  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Coming  to  the  modern  domestic  drama  one  sees 
careful  management  of  a  comic  element.  The 
method  of  the  older  dramatists  was,  almost  always, 
to  confine  the  humorous  element  to  separate  scenes 
and  usually  to  a  special  set  of  characters.  The 
innovation  of  modern  writers  is  to  blend  the 
humorous  and  the  tragic  in  the  way  that  they  are 
really  blended  in  life.    It  is  unusual  to  set  apart  scenes 


ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DRAMA.  20o 

for  the  comic  element,  but  the  old  plan  of  having 
certain  humorous  characters  is  frequent.  After  all, 
is  not  that  true  in  point  of  fact  ?  Humour  at  the  best 
of  times  is  not  the  happy  gift  of  many,  and  to  main- 
tain during  times  of  stress  and  anguish  that  kindly 
cheerfulness  on  which  humour  depends,  is  still  rarer. 
In  Sir  Arthur  Pinero's  "  Mid-Channel  "  it  is  Peter 
Mottram,  the  sympathetic  but  ex  parte  humorist, 
who  is  chiefly  responsible  for  the  grim  gaiety  of  the 
play.  Often  the  cleverness  of  dialogue,  witty  and 
even  humorous,  can  raise  a  refined  laugh.  At  other 
times  that  humour  which  lies  as  near  to  tragedy  as 
laughter  does  to  tears,  forces  its  way  through  and 
makes  us  see  the  ridiculous  in  what  is  really 
pathetic.  Few  plays  show  this  tragic  humour  as 
markedly  as  Mr.  Galsworthy's  "  Strife."  How 
absolutely  laughable  is  the  selfishness  of  the  director, 
Wilder,  who  positively  will  not  be  able  to  get  off  to 
Spain  next  day  with  his  wife  unless  the  strike  is 
quickly  settled — grimly  ludicrous  in  the  face  of  the 
tragic  obstinacy  of  Roberts,  the  men's  leader,  whom 
not  even  starvation  and  a  dying  wife  can  move. 

Wilder:  It's  a  deadlock  then.  [Letting  his  hands  drop  with 
a  sort  of  despair :]      Now  I  shall  never  get  off  to  Spain  ! 

Wanklin  [Retaining  o  trace  of  irony~\:  Yon  hear  the  con- 
sequences of  your  victory,  Chairman  ? 

Wilder  [With  a  hard  of  feeling]:  My  wife's  ill ! 

Scantlebury  :   Dear,  dear!     You  don't  say  so! 

Wilder  :  If  I  don't  get  her  out  of  this  cold,  I  won't  answei 
for  the  consequences. 

[Through  double-doors  Edgar  comes  in  looking  very  grave.] 

Edgar  [To  his  father"]:  Have  you  heard  (his,  sir?  Mrs. 
Roberts  is  dead  ! 


204  i:\glish    DOMESTIC   DRAMA. 

Evi  vyonestares  at  him  as  if  trying  to  gauge  the 
importance  of  this  news.-] 
Enid  saw  her  fchis  afternoon,  she  had  no  coals,  or  food, 
or  anything.     It's  enough. 

And  then  after  the  terrible  battle  of  obstinacy 
between  Anthony  and  Roberts,  after  the  fighters  have 
plunged  others  and  have  been  plunged  themselves 
into  bitter  sorrow,  they  are  thrown  over  by  their 
supporters  who  make  their  own  terms.  What  has 
this  loss  of  life  and  money  availed  ?  Harness,  the 
impassive  and  cynical  trades-union  official,  and 
Tench,  the  Secretary,  tell  us  : 

Harness  :  A  woman  dead ;  and  the  two  best  men  both 
broken  ! 

Tench  [Staring  at  Harness — suddenly  excited']  :  D'you  know, 
Sir — these  terms,  they're  the  very  same  we  drew  up  to- 
gether, you  and  I,  and  put  to  both  sides  before  the  tight 
began  ?     All  this — all  this — and — and  what  for  ? 

Harness  [In  a  slow  grim  voice]:  That's  where  the  fun  comes 
in! 

One  is  reminded  of  the  half-gruesome  but  more 
ludicrous  finish  of  "  Don  Juan,"  in  which  Moliere 
makes  the  earth  open,  belch  forth  flame  and  engulf 
Don  Juan  in  the  bottomless  pit;  and  then,  with 
startling  humour,  he  sends  Sganarelle  rushing  fran- 
tically across  the  stage  shrieking  "  Mes  gages,  mes 
gages,  mes  gages  !  " 

Such  realism  is  a  new  element  in  drama  ;  the 
older  tragedies  show  no  such  horrible  truth.  Yet 
the  bulk  of  modern  dramatists,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  still  cling  to  the  general  framework  of  the 
older  plays,  and  retain  the  convention  of  relevant 
movement  towards  a  climax.     In   this   play  of  Mr. 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC    DRAMA.  205 

Galsworthy's  there  is  a  tendency  towards  a  newer 
idea — the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessarily  the  obvious 
crises  of  life  that  are  most  essentially  tragic.  As 
M.  Maeterlinck  says  :  "  There  is  a  tragic  element  in 
the  life  of  every  day  that  is  far  more  real,  far  more 
penetrating,  far  more  akin  to  the  true  self  that  is  in 
us  than  the  tragedy  that  lies  in  great  adventure." 
"  Is  it,"  he  proceeds  to  ask,  "  beyond  the  mark  to  say 
that  the  true  tragic  element,  normal,  deep-rooted  and 
universal,  that  the  true  tragic  element  of  life  only 
begins  at  the  moment  when  so-called  adventures, 
sorrows,  and  dangers  have  disappeared  ?  "  It  may  be 
terrible  to  see  a  blindly  jealous  Othello  massacre  his 
innocent  wife  ;  but  is  not  his  suicide  a  relief  ?  A  far 
more  tragic  ending  would  be  for  him  to  survive  long 
enough  to  feel  the  continual  bitterness  of  a  quiet 
remorseful  life.  In  everyday  life  is  it  the  death-bed 
that  presents  the  tragic  spectacle,  or  the  long  days 
of  anguish  which  succeed  for  the  widow  left  behind  ? 
This  tragedy  of  silence — the  soul-stirring  silence  of 
M.  Maeterlinck — is  certainly  truer  to  life,  and  is  per- 
haps more  deeply  pathetic.  The  very  fierceness  of 
passion  or  emotion  is  often  an  anodyne  to  grief  ;  but 
this  tragedy  of  silence  knows  no  such  relief.  In  the 
climax  of  a  great  tragedy  where  does  the  pathos 
really  lie  ?  Surely  not  in  the  catastrophe  itself,  which , 
so  to  speak,  has  purged  itself,  but  in  the  thoughts 
of  us  who  must  bear  the  sorrow  as  our  own  soul- 
burden.  It  is  this  soul-burden  that  some  modern 
dramatists  attempt  to  put  into  the  play  itself — this 
tragedy  of  silence.  If  I  were  to  give  one  example 
of  what  I  mean  by  this  I  should  go  to  Mr.  Synge's 
"  Deirdre  of  the  Sorrows."     The  play  has  a  climax, 


•20(>  ENGLISH    DOMESTIC    DRAMA. 

but  no  climax  is  so  stirringly  tragic  as  the  scene 
where  Naisi,  the  husband  of  Deirdre,  is  talking  with 
Fero-us  who  has  come  to  visit  them  in  their  exile  in 
Scotland.  Deirdre,  unseen,  overhears  the  con- 
versation : 

Naisi  [very  thoughtfully]  :  I'll  not  tell  you  a  lie.  There 
have  been  days  a  while  past  when  I've  been  throwing  a  line 
for  salmon  or  watching-  for  the  ran  of  hares,  that  I've  a 
dread  upon  me  a  day'd  come  I'd  weary  of  her  voice  {very 
slowly)  and  Deirdre' d  see  I'd  wearied. 

There  are  dramatists  who  are  beginning  to  wonder 
as    to    the    possibility    of    dispensing  with    even    a 
climax  ;  they  write  instead  tragic  episodes  from  life, 
if  it  is  allowable  to  use  the  word  tragic  when   the 
climax  is  gone.     In    "  Strife "    there    is    really    no 
climax,  and  in  Tchekhof's  "  The  Cherry  Orchard," 
although  there  may  be  a  great  underlying  signifi- 
cance, the  finale  is  ostensibly  nothing  more  than 
the    closing    scene    of    one    episode    in    a    family's 
history.     The  crucial  question  is  whether  a  tragedy 
can  interest  unless  it   has    the    unifying    influence 
of    a    climax    which    is,    so    to    speak,    the   focus 
of    all  the  events   and  actions  of    the    play.     Will 
people  be  interested  in  irrelevant  realism  ?    It  would 
seem  that  to  a  certain   extent  they  will ;  but  the 
dramatist  who  employs  such  a  method  is  on  thin 
ice.     It  is  one  of  those  points  of   speculation   that 
must  be  put  to  the  test  to  be  proved. 

I  have  wandered  somewhat  far  afield  from  the 
question  of  domestic  tragedy,  but  it  has  been  to  see 
if  possible  in  what  relation  domestic  tragedy  stands 
to  tragedy  as  a  whole.     And    as    a    result    of   this 


ENGLISH   DOMESTIC   DRAMA.  207 

digression  it  may  be  said  that  although  tragedy  is 
still  written  with  the  design  of  affecting  the  emotions 
and  inspiring  awe  by  means  of  a  crisis,  this  crisis  is 
perhaps  not  essential ;  and  certainly  it  is  not  essen- 
tial to  frame  a  play  on  the  great  events  of  great 
lives.  Such  is  the  doctrine  proved,  at  least  for  this 
age,  by  the  success  of  modern  tragedy.  Modern 
things  are  often  wrongly  looked  on  as  new  things, 
and  it  would  be  particularly  unjust  in  this  case  to 
ignore  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
century  domestic  tragedies  which  differ  more  in 
degree  than  in  kind  from  the  most  successful 
tragedies  of  to-day. 


vol.  xxxi.  15 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST,    1697-174:]. 

BY    0.    E.    WADE,    M.A.,    P.R.S.L. 
[Kead  February  28th,  1912.1 

The  writer  of  whom  I  am  about  to  speak  was  a 
journalist  of  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
The  lapse  of  time  has  submerged  him  and  his 
political  work  so  thoroughly  that  only  to  few  is  he 
even  a  name,  and  he  is  remembered  by  them  less  for 
his  skilful  editorship  of  the  most  powerful  political 
journal  of  his  day  than  for  the  bitter  onslaught  he 
made,  when  a  mere  lad,  upon  the  University  of 
Oxford. 

"  A  Scholar  in  Grub  Street "  he  called  himself, 
and  the  description  is  not  inapt,  for  though  he  rose 
to  no  height  in  scholarship  nor  fell  to  the  lowest 
depths  of  Grub  Street,  he  had  affinities  for  both 
which  might  in  other  circumstances  have  made  him 
greater  or  left  him  less. 

Nicholas  Amhurst  was  born  in  1697  at  Marden  in 
Kent.  His  father  was  a  grazier  of  Maidstone,  and 
it  was  through  the  influence  of  his  grandfather,  a 
clergyman,*  that  he  was  admitted  in  1707,  on 
February  23rd,  to  the  Petty  Form  in  Merchant 
Taylors'  School  at  the  age  of  nine  years. 

The  School  was  then  in  Suffolk  Lane,  in  the 
Parish  of  St.  Lawrence  Poultney,  by  the  Manor  of 

*  George  Amhurst  was  vicar  of  Marden  lt>(>2-1707. 
VOL.  XXXI.  16 


210  NICHOLAS    AMlll'KST. 

i  he  Rose,  and  it  contained  326  boys  in  the  year  of 
Ainhurst's  admission.  He  passed  through  every 
form  with  consistent  regularity,  and  reached  the 
Sixth  in  March,  1712,  at  the  age  of  fourteen  years 
and  four  months.  Here  he  remained  four  years, 
and  was  then  elected,  on  June  11th,  1716,  to  a 
Founder's  Scholarship  at  St.  John's  College,  Oxford. 
If  he  were  of  good  conduct  and  remained  unmarried 
the  Scholarship  would  in  due  course  lead  him  to  a 
Fellowship  for  life.  Latin  and  English  compositions 
written  by  Amhurst  wdien  at  school  are  still  extant 
in  the  manuscript  collection  contained  there,  amongst 
them  an  ode  of  congratulation  to  King  George  I  on 
his  accession. 

What  was  the  atmosphere,  and  what  the  traditions 
which  in  this  school  surrounded  Amhurst  for  nine 
impressionable  years  ? 

The  traditions  of  Merchant  Taylors'  had,  except 
for  the  brief  period  of  the  Puritan  domination  of 
England,  always  been  those  of  Church  and  King. 
Its  co-founder,  Sir  Thomas  White,  was  Lord  Mayor 
of  London  in  the  year  of  Queen  Mary's  accession, 
and  to  him  fell  the  task  of  committing  to  the  Tower 
Northumberland  the  arch  villain,  his  poor  victim 
and  dupe  Lady  Jane  Gray,  and  many  another.  In 
the  days  of  the  Civil  War  its  Head-master,  William 
Dugard,  had  issued  Royalist  tracts  from  his  private 
printing  press,  and  this  practice  led  him  into  a 
quarrel  with  his  friend  Milton,  which  forms  one  of 
the  least  creditable  episodes  in  the  life  of  the  great 
Puritan  poet.  The  politics  of  Parsell,  who  was 
Amhurst' s  Head-master,  are  not  known,  but  the 
Under-master,    Criche,   who   taught   Amhurst,   and 


NICHOLAS    AMHUliST.  211 

himself  succeeded  Parsell  in  the  Head-mastership, 
was  a  Non- Juror.* 

More  notable  than  the  masters  was  a  boy  who  was 
a  member  of  the  Sixth  Form  when  Amhurst  entered 
the  school.  The  example  of  this  boy's  short  life 
cannot  fail  to  have  exercised  a  profound  influence 
on  every  member  of  the  school,  and  a  short  account 
of  him  is  needful  here.  His  name  was  Ambrose 
Bonwicke,  and  he  had  entered  the  school  five  years 
before  Amhurst.  He  was  the  son  of  a  former  Head- 
master who  had  been  removed  because  he  refused 
to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  William  and  Mary. 
The  younger  Bonwicke  shared  to  the  full  the 
scruples  which  had  cost  his  father  so  dear.  The 
words  that  follow  are  from  the  pen  of  the  elder 
Bonwicke,  and  were  written  after  the  death  of  his  son. 

"  'Tis  the  custom  of  that  school  for  the  head 
scholars  in  their  turns  to  read  the  prayers  there  ; 
and  among  other  prayers  for  the  morning  the  first 
collect  for  the  King  at  the  Communion  service  of  our 
Liturgy  is  appointed  to  be  read.  This  our  con- 
scientious lad  stuck  at,  it  being  indeed  one  of  the  most 
improper  prayers  in  the  whole  Liturgy  to  be  used 
for  a  Governor  whom  he  thought  was  not  so  de  in  re 
as  well  as  de  facto.  On  this  account  he  was  fre- 
quently attacked  by  most  of  his  friends  in  London, 
who  endeavoured  not  only  to  convince  him  with 
arguments,  but  to  affright  him  with  the  conse- 
quences of  his  not  complying."  These  consequences 
did  in  effect  befall  young  Bonwicke.  When  the 
day  of  election  arrived  the  Master  of  the  Merchant 
Taylors'    Company    addressed     him     thus:     "Mr. 

*  H.  B.  Wilson,  'History  of  Merchant  Taylors'  School,'  18U. 


212  NICHOLAS    AMHITKST. 

Bonwicke,  the  President  and  gentlemen  who  have 
examined  yon  as  a  candidate  for  this  election 
declare  that  yon  have  performed  your  duty  very 
well,  and  are  in  everyway  capable  of  being  elected. 
But  the  Company,  who  are  electors,  have  received 
information  that  you  have  not  read  the  prayers  of 
the  school,  whether  enjoined  by  the  Statutes  or  your 
Master  I  can't  tell.  The  Company  therefore  desire 
to  know  of  you  the  reason  why  you  did  not  read 
them.  You  may  make  what  excuse  }^ou  please;  I 
do  not  put  anything  to  you  to  say,  but  only  the 
reason  why  you  did  not  read  them."  The  young 
Non-Juror  was  firm,  "  Sir,  I  could  not  do  it,"  he 
replied,  upon  which  the  Master  and  several  other 
persons  there  present  said  it  was  very  honestly  said, 
a  very  honest  answer,  the  best  answer  he  could  give, 
and  one  that  he  was  sorry  for  him.  He  was  passed 
over  and  another  boy  elected.  Nicholas  Amhurst 
was  in  the  Fourth  Form  when  his  schoolfellow  made 
this  g"ood  confession  of  faith  which  cost  him  a 
Scholarship  at  once  and  a  Fellowship  for  life. 
Bonwicke  proceeded  to  St.  John's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, where  he  died  in  May,  1714,  in  the  23rd 
year  of  his  age,  apparently  of  that  consumption 
which  so  frequently  accompanies  early  religious 
exaltation.  The  life  of  this  boy,  entitled  '  A  Pattern 
for  Young  Students  in  the  University,'  appeared  in 
1729.  It  was  anonymous,  but  it  is  known  to  have 
been  the  work  of  his  father.  It  was  edited  by  Dr. 
J.  E.  B.  Mayor,  and  published  in  1870.  He  dedi- 
cated it  to  his  colleagues  '  This -view  of  the  Non- 
Juror's  home  as  it  appeared  on  the  Eve  of  the  last 
Cambridge  Persecution.' 


NICHOLAS    AMHUUST.  213 

The  account  which  it  gives  of  young  Bonwicke's 
religious  exercises,  of  his  reading,  and  of  his  life  at 
Cambridge,  make  it  a  valuable  historical  document, 
and  suggests  that  this  youthful  Non-Juror  of  St. 
John's  College,  Cambridge,  anticipated  in  many 
ways  the  "  method  "  which  John  Wesley  practised 
at  Lincoln  College,  Oxford,  only  seven  years  after 
Bonwicke's  death. 

It  is  also  not  a  little  singular  that  it  should  fall  to 
the  lot  of  these  two  school-fellows  to  illustrate  for 
posterity  the  life  of  the  two  Universities  in  the 
early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  to  show  that 
the  teaching  of  the  Anglican  Church  was  a  vivifying 
and  elevating  influence  in  a  great  public  school  even 
at  the  time  when  the  Deism  of  Toland  and  of 
Hoadley  was  undermining  the  very  foundations  of 
the  Christian  faith. 

But  we  must  return  from  the  young  Confessor 
Bonwicke  and  from  Cambridge  to  accompany  to 
Oxford  Amhurst,  a  boy  of  far  different  character. 
He  thus  describes  himself  at  this  period  :  "  I  came 
to  your  College  a  raw,  ignorant  schoolboy  and 
foolishly  thought  mankind  in  earnest  in  what  they 
professed.  ...  I  often  remember  how  scrupu- 
lous I  was  in  the  most  common  concerns  of  life, 
with  what  awful  dread  I  took  an  oath  and  with 
what  tremendous  veneration  I  received  the  Sacra- 
ment." Amhurst  is  a  witness  who  needs  corrobora- 
tion, especially  when  he  is  speaking  of  himself,  but 
it  is  a  noteworthy  fact  that  in  all  his  frenzies  of 
hatred  against  Tory,  Jacobite,  Non- Juror  and 
Oxford  he  never  has  an  ill  word  for  his  old  School ; 
Jacobitical  and  Ecclesiastical  as  its  traditions  were, 


214  NICHOLAS    AMHURST. 

the  influences  which  had  moulded  the  short  life  of 
the  saintly  Bonwicke  had  touched  even  the  hard, 
vulgar  temperament  of  Nicholas  Amhurst. 

What  was  the  Oxford  of  1716  to  which  Amhurst 
now  proceeded  ? 

It  was  the  Jacobite  capital  of  England. 

Such  is  the  description  given  to  it  by  a  brilliant 
Whig  historian,  who  detested  it  and  all  its  works, 
and  who  derived  much  of  his  material  from  Am- 
hurst's  writings. 

Oxford  had  indeed  proved  herself  the  home  of 
impossible  loyalties.  She  had  forgotten  James  II 
and  the  exiled  fellows  of  Magdalen,  she  had  for- 
gotten the  days  when  "  old  Obadiah  "  sang  '  Ave 
Maria '  in  the  chapel  of  University  College.  She 
forgot  the  son  and  remembered  only  the  father,  the 
forlorn  King  who  left  his  stubborn  capital  to  seek 
another  within  her  ancient  walls,  upon  whom  she 
had  lavished  her  treasure  and  her  blood,  that 
"  White  King,"  who  in  Bodley's  Library  had  tried 
the  Virgilian  oracle  and  had  lighted  on  the  fatal 
lines  that  told  his  fate. 

Whigs  were  few  and  far  between  in  Oxford  at 
the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Addison, 
it  is  true,  was  a  Fellow  of  Magdalen,  but  Providence, 
which  plants  in  the  same  ditch  the  nettle  and  the 
dock,  had  bestowed  a  like  distinction  on  Dr.  Sache- 
verell.  There  was,  Amhurst  tells  us,  a  little  nest 
of  them  in  Merton  and  Oriel ;  New  College  and 
Christ  Church  were  not  free  from  suspicion.  For 
the  rest  they  were  sparse  and  weak,  and  in  general, 
well  in  hand.  The  accession  of  their  German  King- 
in    1714    brought   encouragement    even  to   Oxford 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  215 

Whigs,  and  seeking  the  strength  which  comes  from 
union  they  founded  an  association  which  they  called 
the  Constitutional  Club.  They  were  not  unaware 
of  the  danger  likely  to  arise  from  the  undisciplined 
ardour  of  undergraduates,  so  they  made  a  rule  that 
their  members  should  be  "  not  below  the  Bachelor's 
degree." 

This  club  was  the  beginning  of  woe  to  Oxford. 

On  May  28th,  1715,  occurred  the  first  birthday 
of  George  I  since  he  had  accepted  his  humble  regal 
position,  and  the  Constitutional  Club  held  a  meeting 
to  celebrate  it  in  the  King's  Head  tavern.  There 
is  no  suo*o«estion  that  on  this  occasion  either  calf's 
head  or  decapitated  lark  was  to  form  part  of  the 
banquet — a  delicate  symbolism  which  the  Whigs  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  confine  to  January  30th 
alone.  None  the  less  the  Tories  were  enraged,  they 
rose  in  all  their  might  of  numbers,  raided  the 
meeting  and  drove  forth  the  Constitutionalists. 
Next  day  was  the  anniversary  of  Royal  Oak  ;  the 
Tories  accepted  the  omen  and  attacked  Oriel  College. 
The  breach  of  the  peace  was  serious,  and  notice  of  it 
was  taken  not  only  by  the  Heads  of  Houses,  but  also 
by  the  Grand  Jury  of  the  County.  From  neither 
authority  had  the  rioters  anything  to  fear.  The 
Grand  Jury  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  the  Con- 
stitutional Club  was  entirely  responsible.  It  con- 
sisted, they  declared,  of  "  a  set  of  factious  men, 
who,  shrouding  themselves  under  the  specious  name 
of  the  Constitutional  Club,  were  enemies  to  monarchy 
and  to  all  good  government,  and  had  been  the 
authors  of  all  tumults  and  disorders  that  had  hap- 
pened in  the  City  or  County  of  Oxford." 


216  NICHOLAS    AM  HURST. 

The  displeasure  of  the  Government  at  this  remark- 
able finding  was  duly  conveyed  to  Oxford,  and  the 
authorities  were  so  much  impressed  that  they  put 
down  with  a  firm  hand  all  attempts  at  rejoicing  on 
June  10th,  which  was  the  birthday  of  the  Pretender. 
All  might  now  have  been  well  had  not  another  of 
these  troublesome  anniversaries  occurred.  This  was 
the  birthday  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  afterwards 
George  II.  He  was  now  thirty-four  years  old  and 
on  the  worst  possible  terms  with  his  father,  whom 
he  had  accompanied  to  England  on  his  accession. 
Not  a  mouse  stirred  to  commemorate  the  birthday 
of  this  uninteresting  German  Prince. 

It  so  fell  out  that  there  was  then  a  regiment  in 
Oxford,  ostensibly  for  recruiting,  more  probably  as 
a  measure  of  precaution.  In  a  rare  fume  the  Major 
of  this  regiment  sought  the  Mayor  of  Oxford. 
"Why,"  he  demanded,  indignantly,  "has  nothing 
been  arranged  ?  ' '  The  Mayor  pleaded  ignorance ;  no 
one  knew  it  was  the  Prince's  birthday.  Indeed,  a 
loyalty  that  could  wind  itself  round  George  Augustus 
in  little  more  than  a  year  must  have  had  the  vitality 
of  Jonah's  gourd. 

The  reason  given  did  not  satisfy  the  Major.  He 
ordered  out  his  regiment  and  organised  an  immediate 
celebration  of  the  auspicious  day  with  military 
honours.  The  news  spread,  a  crowd  gathered,  jeers 
were  flung  at  the  soldiers,  then  mud,  then  stones. 
At  this  the  soldiers  fired.  This  time  Oxford  had 
gone  too  far.  Town  had  done  it,  it  is  true,  and  not 
Gown,  but  it  was  good  enough  for  the  Government. 
Indeed,  they  could  scarcely  afford  to  be  lenient. 
They  knew  that  Mars'  rising  in  Scotland  was  now 


NICHOLAS    AMHUKST.  217 

certain,  but  they  did  not  know  what  were  its 
ramifications  in  England.  But  they  did  know  well 
enough  that  if  they  struck  Oxford  they  would  strike 
in  the  right  place.  Accordingly  another  Major 
entered  the  city ;  he  was  appropriately  named 
Pepper  and  he  brought  with  him  a  regiment  of 
business-like  dragoons.  Pepper  proclaimed  martial 
law,  and  bluntly  told  the  University  that  if  any 
undergraduate  were  found  outside  the  bounds  of  his 
College  he  would  be  straightway  shot.  But  those 
of  the  junior  members  of  the  University  who  had 
felt  yearnings  for  a  soldier's  grave  had  already  made 
their  way  to  the  Jacobite  leader  in  Scotland,  so 
Pepper's  invitation  was  not  accepted  and  presently 
he  withdrew  his  dragoons  to  Abingdon,  leaving: 
Handyside  with  a  regiment  of  foot  quartered  in  the 
city. 

What  meantime  of  Cambridge  ?  That  ancient 
University  also  contained  Jacobites  as  young  and  as 
ardent  as  their  friends  at  Oxford.  But  they 
succumbed  to  the  genius  of  the  place.  The 
memories  of  her  distinguished  son  the  Protector 
Oliver  and  of  his  Army  of  the  Eastern  Associa- 
tion still  brooded  over  the  Cam.  No  room  there 
for  talk  of  martyred  Kings  and  falling  Faiths. 
Truth  to  say  the  gentlemen  who  then  guided  the 
destinies  of  Cambridge  trimmed  their  sails  to  the 
rising  winds  with  admirable  skill ;  and  they  had 
their  reward.  At  this  time  Townshend  persuaded 
George  I  to  buy  the  magnificent  library  of  oO,000 
books  collected  by  Bishop  Moore.  But  what  was  a 
Hanoverian  king  to  do  with  books?  For  Greorge  II, 
as  least,   we  have  good   authority.      The   sight  of 


218  NICHOLAS    AMHUBST. 

books  enraged  him.  Queen  Caroline,  who  loved  to 
read,  had  to  read  unknown  to  him.  Vattel*  he 
did  read  in  his  later  days,  and  Vattel  only,  and 
when  he  had  finished  Vattel  he  read  him  again, 
in  fact  he  never  read  anything  else ;  he  asked 
everyone  he  met  if  he  had  read  Vattel,  and  if  he 
had  not  he  held  him  for  an  ignoramus  and  an  ass, 
and  told  him  so.  What  should  such  a  king  do  with 
30,000  volumes  P  His  great  grandson,  George  IV, 
got  out  of  a  similar  difficulty  by  presenting  his 
father's  great  library  to  the  British  Museum.  It 
was  now  suggested  that  Bishop's  Moore's  books 
should  be  given  to  Cambridge.  Such  a  gift  would 
at  once  honour  the  loyal,  flout  the  disloyal  Univer- 
sity. It  was  accordingly  done.  This  little  piece  of 
by-play  produced  two  epigrams,  which,  though  well- 
known,  will  bear  quotation  again.  Some  unknown 
wit  at  Oxford  wrote  : 

"King  George,  observing  with  judicious  eyes 
The  state  of  both  his  Universities, 
To  Oxford  sent  a  troop  of  horse — and  why  ? 
That  learned  body  wanted  loyalty; 
To  Cambridge  books  he  sent  as  well  discerning- 
How  much  that  loyal  body  wanted  learning." 

Scarcely  had  the  ill-used  Tories  at  Oxford 
digested  this  soothing  morsel  when  the  following 
lines  arrived  from  Cambridge.  They  were  written 
by  Sir  William  Browne,  the  founder  of  the  Univer- 
sity Prize  for  Odes  and  Epigrams  : 

*  '  Droit  des  "•ens.' 


NICHOLAS    AMHUEST.  -1(.» 

"The  King  to  Oxford  sent  a  troop  of  horse, 
For  Tories  own  no  argument  but  force, 
With  equal  skill  to  Cambridge  books  he  sent, 
For  Whio-g  admit  no  force  but  argument." 


Strange  indeed  was  the  freak  of  fate  which  had 
sent  the  Non-Juror  Bonwicke  to  Cambridge,  and 
Amlmrst,  the  keen  young  Whig,  to  Oxford. 

He  came  from  London,  where  the  Tories  were 
now  a  silent  sullen  faction;  he  had  but  to  walk  a 
short  way  from  his  School  to  see  impaled  the  heads 
of  four  of  the  hapless  victims  of  the  rising  of  1715. 
The  judicious  juggling  of  the  Septennial  Act  had 
left  the  electorate  of  England,  such  as  it  was,  as 
dumb  as  those  ghastly  heads. 

That  was  a  rare  time,  and  London  was  a  rare 
place  for  a  good  Whig,  and  Amlmrst  was  a  very 
good  Whig  indeed,  for  he  tells  us — "  Whilst  I  con- 
tinued at  school,  instead  of  getting  my  lesson  I  used 
to  hold  frequent  disputes  with  several  of  my 
disaffected  schoolfellows  upon  Liberty  and  Property 
and  the  Protestant  Succession,  all  of  which  1 
thought  glorious  topics  in  those  days.  I  was  also  a 
great  admirer  of  the  '  Flying  Post,'  and  read  multi- 
tudes of  pamphlets  which  were  published  on  the 
Whiggish  side,  by  which  means  I  became  so  con- 
siderable a  disputant  that  I  thought  myself  a  match 
for  any  Jacobite  in  the  kingdom."  So  he  journeyed 
up  to  Oxford  in  the  stage  coach  that  jolted  along 
the  miserable  tracks  that  then  did  duty  for  roads, 
and  found  himself  in  a  world  new  to  him  because  so 
very  old,  and  member  of  a  college  that  of  all  others 
was  the  stronghold   of  all   that  he   detested,  where 


220  NICHOLAS    AMHUKST. 

every  stone  and  every  chime  testified  to  that 
Loyalty  and  Faith  which  he  despised.  So,  wrapped 
in  the  cloak  of  his  brand  new  Whiggism,  clever, 
coarse-grained  and  self-sufficient,  "  Childe  Roland 
to  the  Dark  Tower  came." 

Through  his  clear  unsympathetic  eyes  we  see  alive 
before  us  a  caricature  of  the  Oxford  of  two  hundred 
years  ago.  For  that  alone  the  existence  of  Amhurst 
is  justified.  The  multitude  of  writers  who  have 
since  felt  themselves  called  upon  to  write  books 
about  Oxford  have  pillaged  hi  in  and  thanked  him 
with  a  civil  sneer  or  thanked  him  not  at  all. 

What  did  he  see  while  he  made  his  brief  sojourn 
in  the  fairest  of  English  cities  ?  Thus  some  years 
later  he  addresses  "  all  gentlemen-schoolboys  in  his 
Majesty's  dominions  who  are  designed  for  the 
University  of  Oxford." 

"  For  method's  sake  I  shall  address  myself  herein  to 
such  of  you  as  belong  to  the  public  schools  of  Loudon 
and  Westminster,  but  my  admonitions  will  be  equally 
useful  to  all  of  you  in  general.  ...  I  am  so  well 
acquainted  with  the  vanity  and  malapertness  of  you 
sparks,  as  soon  as  you  get  out  of  your  schoolmaster's 
hands,  that  1  know  I  shall  be  called  a  fusty  old  fellow  and 
a  thousand  ridiculous  names  besides,  for  presuming  to  give 
you  advice,  which  I  would  not,  say  you,  take,  if  I  was  a 
young  fellow  myself.  .  .  .  But  I  am  sure  that  you 
will  thank  me  six  or  seven  years  hence  for  this  piece  of 
service,  however  troublesome  and  impertinent  you  may 
think  it  now. 

"  I  observe  in  the  first  place,  that  you  no  sooner  shake 
off  the  authority  of  the  birch,  but  you  affect  to  distinguish 
yourselves  from  your  dirty  schoofellows  by  a  new  suit  of 
drugget,  a  pair   of    prim  ruffles,   a  new  bob   wig,   and   a 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  221 

brazen-hilted  sword;  in  which  tawdry  manner  you  strut 
about  town  for  a  week  or  two  before  you  go  to  College, 
giving*  yourselves  airs  at  Coffee  Houses  and  booksellers' 
shops,  and  intruding  yourselves  into  the  company  of  us 
men,  from  all  which  I  suppose  you  think  yourselves  your 
own  masters,  no  more  subject  to  control  or  confinement ; 
alas,  fatal  mistake  !  soon  will  yon  confess  that  the  tyranny 
of  a  school  is  nothing  to  the  tyranny  of  a  College ;  nor  the 
grammar  pedant  to  the  academical  one  :  for  what  signifies 
the  smarting  a  schoolboy  has  to  feel  to  a  bullied  conscience. 
What  was  Busby  in  comparison  to  Delaune  ? 

"But  let  us  now  suppose  you  are  admitted  into  the 
College  and  matriculated  into  the  University.  You  have 
taken  the  oaths  to  observe  the  statutes  of  both,  you  have 
subscribed  Thirty-nine  Articles  of  Religion  and  paid  your 
fees.  ...  I  will  only  advise  you  to  suppress  as  much 
as  possible  that  busy  spirit  of  curiosity  which  too  often 
fatally  exerts  itself  in  human  breasts,  but  if     .  the 

strong  beams  of  truth  will  break  in  upon  your  minds  let 
them  shine  inwardly  ...  if  you  have  any  concern  for 
your  welfare  and  prosperity,  let  Aristotle  be  your  guide 
absolutely  in  philosophy  and  Athanasius  in  your  religion 
follow  your  leaders ;  observe  the  cue  which 
they  give  you ;  speak  as  they  speak  ;  act  as  they  act : 
drink  as  they  drink  :  and  swear  as  they  swear.     .     .     . 

"  '  But  (says  one  of  you  smartly)  I  am  a  Tory,  and  all  my 
family  have  been  Tories  :  my  grandfather  lost  his  estate 
against  Oliver  Cromwell,  my  father  was  a  great  sufferer 
for  King  James  II,  and  I  myself  had  my  head  broke  in 
defence  of  Dr.  Sacheverell  before  I  was  eight  years  old ; 
what,  therefore,  have  I  to  fear  from  Oxford  V  .  .  .  not 
so  fast  (I  beg  of  you)  my  dear  little  Spit-fire,  you  have  too 
much  of  that  mettle  in  you,  which  is  natural  to  your  party. 
I  grant  you,  that  at  present  your  principles  will  not  incom- 
mode you  there  ;  but  who  knows  how  soon  some  exigency 
or  other  may  oblige  them  to  dispense  with  their  oaths  and 
their  decrees  ?     Is  it  not  therefore  better  to  reserve  your- 


•22'2  .NICHOLAS    AM  11  IKS  T. 

sell  so  as  to  l)f  able  with  a  good  grace  to  go  into  any 
interest  that  shall  happen  to  be  uppermost  ? 

"Says  another  of  you,  'I  am  a  Whig  and  have  the 
Government  on  my  side  ;  King  George  and  his  Ministry 
will  never  see  their  best  friends  persecuted  and  torn  to 
pieces  for  professing  and  adhering  to  those  principles 
which  fixed  the  Crown  upon  his  head  and  them  in  his 
favour.' 

"  My  good  lad,  this  is  a  very  natural  and  a  very  reason- 
able supposition,  but  ...  I  would  not  have  you  too 
far   rely   upon    it  [f°r]    there  is   one   thing  left 

undone,  I  mean  the  Visitation  of  the  Universities. 

"For  till  this  is  done  to  call  yourself  a  Whig  at  Oxford, 
or  to  act  like  one,  or  to  lie  under  the  suspicion  of  being  one 
is  the  same  as  to  be  attainted  and  outlawed;  you  will  be 
discouraged  and  browbeaten  in  your  own  College,  and  dis- 
qualified for  preferment  in  any  other  ;  your  company  will 
be  avoided  and  your  character  abused  ;  you  will  certainly 
lose  your  degree,  and  at  last,  perhaps,  upon  some  pretence 
or  other,  be  expelled." 

This,  it  need  not  be  said,  was  written  after  Am- 
hurst  bad,  perforce,  severed  bis  connection  with 
Oxford  for  ever.  On  the  manners  of  Oxford  he  is 
equally  severe,  although  there  is  no  evidence  in  his 
writings  that  he  was  entitled  to  be  a  judge  in  this 
respect. 

"  Pride,  petulancy  and  ill-breeding  are  the  first  and  last 
lessons  which  they  learn  at  the  Universities.  To  what 
else  can  it  be  imputed  that  our  country  curates  and  vicars 
are  just  such  ill-mannered  clowns  ;is  those  they  preach  to, 
unfit  for  the  conversation  of  the  town,  the  court,  or  any 
civilised  assembly  ?  They  know  nothing  of  the  woi-ld,  and 
it  would  be  very  well  if  the  world  knew  nothing  of  them/' 

Amburst's  animadversions  upon  the  manners  of 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  228 

Oxford  brought  him,  so  he  pretends,  a  severe  letter 
from  Mr.  Valentine  Frippery,  of  Christ  Church. 
Mr.  Frippery  began  with  vigour  thus  : 

•'  Mr.  Prate-apace,  amongst  all  the  vile  trash  and 
ribaldry  with  which  you  have  lately  poisoned  the  public, 
nothing  is  more  scandalous  and  saucy  than  your  charging 
the  University  with  want  of  civility  and  good  manners. 
Let  me  tell  you,  Sir,  for  all  your  haste,  we  have  as  well 
bred  accomplished  gentlemen  in  Oxford  as  anywhere  in 
Christendom ;  men  that  dress  as  well,  sing  as  well,  dance 
as  well,  and  behave  in  every  respect  as  well,  though  I  say 
it,  as  any  men  under  the  sun.  .  .  .  Who  wears  finer 
lace  or  better  linen  than  Jack  Flutter  ?  Who  has  hand- 
somer tie  wigs,  or  more  fashionable  clothes  or  cuts  a 
bolder  dash  than  Tom  Paroquet  ?  Where  can  you  find  a 
more  handy  man  at  a  Tea  Table  than  Robin  Tattle,  or  with- 
out vanity  I  may  say  it,  one  that  plays  better  at  ombre 
than  him,  who  subscribes  himself  an  enemy  to  all  such  as 
thou  art. — Valentine  Frippery." 

Amhurst  hereupon  gives  a  description  of  Mr. 
Valentine  Frippery  of  Christ  Church  : 

"  He  is  a  Smart  of  the  first  rank,  and  is  one  of  those 
who  come  in  their  academical  undress,  every  morning 
between  ten  and  eleven  to  Lyne's  coffee  house ;  after  which 
he  takes  a  turn  or  two  upon  the  Park,  or  under  Merton 
Wall,  whilst  the  dull  regulars  are  at  dinner  in  their  hall, 
according  to  statute  :  about  one  he  dines  alone  in  his 
chamber  upon  a  boiled  chicken  or  some  pettitoes :  after 
which  he  allows  himself  an  hour  at  least  to  dress  in,  to 
make  his  afternoon  appearance  at  Lyne's,  from  whence  he 
adjourns  to  Hamilton's  about  five:  from  whence  (after 
strutting  about  the  room  for  a  while,  and  drinking  a  dram 
of  citron)  he  goes  to  chapel,  to  show  how  genteely  he 
dresses  and  how  well  he  can  chant.  After  prayers  he 
drinks   Tea   with  some  celebrated  Toast,  and  then   waits 


224  NICHOLAS    AM  HURST. 

upon  her  to  Maudlin  Grove  or  Pai"adise  Garden  and  back 
again.  He  seldom  eats  any  supper,  and  never  reads 
anything  but  novels  and  romances.  When  he  walks  the 
street,  he  is  easily  distinguished  by  a  stiff  silk  gown,  which 
rustles  in  the  wind  as  he  struts  along,  a  flaxen  Tie-wig  or 
sometimes  a  long  natural  one  which  reaches  down  below 
his  waist,  a  broad  bull-cocked  hat  or  a  square  cap  of  above 
twice  the  usual  size,  white  stockings,  thin  Spanish  leather 
shoes,  his  clothes  lined  with  tawdry  silk,  and  his  shirt 
ruffled  down  the  bosom  as  well  as  at  the  wrists.  Besides 
all  which  marks,  he  has  a  delicate  jaunt  in  his  gait,  and 
smells  very  philosophically  of  essence." 

Amliurst  goes  on  to  describe  in  a  passage  equally 
famous  the  transition  from  bumpkin  to  fop  : 

"  All  the  Smarts  in  Oxford  are  not  Noblemen  and 
Gentlemen  Commoners,  but  chiefly  of  a  meaner  rank,  who 
cannot  afford  to  be  thus  fine  any  longer  than  their  Mercers, 
Taylors,  Shoemakers,  and  Perriwig  makers  will  tick  with 
them,  which  now  and  then  lasts  three  or  four  years,  after 
which  they  brush  off  and  return,  like  meteors,  into  the 
same  obscurity  from  whence  they  arose. 

"I  have  observed  a  great  many  of  these  transitory 
foplings,  who  come  to  the  University  with  their  fathers 
(rusty  old  country  farmers)  in  linsey  wolsey  coats,  greasy 
sunburnt  heads  of  hair,  clouted  shoes,  yarn  stockings, 
flappiug  hats  with  silver  hat  bands,  and  long  muslin  neck- 
cloths run  with  red  at  the  bottom.  A  month  or  two  after- 
wards I  have  met  them  with  bob  wigs  and  new  shoes 
Oxford  cut :  a  month  or  two  after  this  they  appeared  in 
drugget  cloaths  and  worsted  stockings  :  then  in  tye  wigs 
and  ruffles  :  and  then  in  silk  gowns  :  till  by  degrees  they 
were  metamorphosed  into  compleat  Smarts,  and  damned 
the  old  country  putts,  their  fathers,  with  twenty  foppish 
airs  and  gesticulations.  Two  or  three  years  afterwards  I 
have  met  the  same  persons  in  gowns  and  cassocks,  walking 
with  demure  looks  and  an  holy  leer. 


NICHOLAS    AMHUEST.  225 

There  is  no  time  to  quote  Amhurst's  description 
of  the  teaching  and  examination  system  of  Oxford, 
more  especially  of  the  famous  Logic  disputations  in 
the  Schools.  His  whole  attitude  is  that  of  Gibbon 
when  he  wrote  of  the  Oxford  of  his  own  day  more 
than  thirty  years  later :  "  To  the  University  of 
Oxford  I  acknowledge  no  obligation,  and  she  will  as 
cheerfully  renounce  me  for  a  son,  as  I  am  willing  to 
disclaim  her  for  a  mother.  I  spent  fourteen  months 
at  Magdalen  College;  they  proved  the  fourteen 
months  the  most  idle  and  unprofitable  of  my  whole 
life  " ;  or  of  Chesterfield,  who  wrote :  "  Cambridge 
is  shrunk  into  the  lowest  obscurity,  and  the  exist- 
ence of  Oxford  would  not  be  known  if  it  were  not 
for  the  treasonable  spirit  publicly  avowed  and  often 
exerted  there." 

Gibbon  may  have  been  idle  at  Oxford,  but 
Amhurst  certainly  was  not;  bat  unfortunately  for 
him  his  energy  took  such  forms  that  it  led  only  to 
his  immediate  undoing.  To  begin  with,  he  must 
needs  join  the  Constitutional  Club.  This  made  him 
at  once  a  marked  man. 

"It  happened  unluckily/'  lie  says,  "  that  I  was  elected 
at  a  time  when  the  northern  rebellion  was  not  quite  extin- 
guished, and  when  the  passions  of  all  people  were  influenced 
on  one  side  or  the  other.  I  was  one  of  those  unfledged 
politicians  who  thought  myself  obliged  in  this  turbulent 
conjecture  to  make  an  open  confession  of  my  political 
faith.  ...  I  went  to  Oxford  and  to  a  College  the 
most  remarkable  in  Oxford  for  as  violent  a  zeal  on  the 
contrary  side.  ...  I  had  not  been  there  an  hour 
before  King  James  the  Third,  the  Duke  of  Ormond,  my 
Lord  JJolingbroke,  Mar,  and  several  such-like  healths, 
together  with   confusion    to   the   usurper    (mentioning   his 

VOL.   XXXI.  1  7 


226  NICHOLAS    AMHURST. 

name)  and  a  speedy  restoration  to  the  rightful  heir,  was 
proposed  in  a  large  company  and  passed  currently  round 
the  table.     When  they  came  to  my  turn  I  declined  them, 
and     .     .     .     begged  leave  to  drink  King  George,  but  I 
was  told  roundly  that  it  was  an  affront  to  the  company. 
This  you  may  be  snre  occasioned  a  dispute  upon 
politics,  in  which  I  got  vastly  the  worst  of  it  in  numbers, 
whatever  I  might  in  argument.     .     .     .     These  disputes 
were    renewed    almost   every   night    with    more   heat   and 
violence    on    both    sides,    and    extorted   from   me     .     .     . 
several  warm  expressions  which  rendered  me  obnoxious  to 
the   greater  part  of  the  College,  and  particularly  to  the 
President  and  Senior  Fellows.     I  was,  in  their  language,  a 
turbulent,  contumacious,  ungovernable  wretch,  an  undutiful 
son  of  the  University." 

As  if  his  membership  of  the  Constitutional  Club 
were  not  enough  Amhurst  must  needs  support 
Bishop  Hoadley  in  the  famous  Bangorian  con- 
troversy. 

It  does  not  fall  within  the  scope  of  this  paper  to 
touch  on  the  points  at  issue  in  this  controversy,  but 
a  few  words  are  needed  about  Benjamin  Hoadley. 
He    was    a  peculiarly    unpleasant    specimen    of    a 
peculiarly    unpleasant   type.      The    AVhigs    of    the 
Revolutionary   Settlement  had   entirely  abandoned 
the  traditional  hostility  of  their  party  to  the  Epi- 
scopal Bench ;  they  had  in  fact  annexed  the  Stuart 
maxim,  "  No  Bishop,  no  King,"  which  suited  their 
purpose  admirably  now  that  the  King  of  England 
was  merely  a  mechanical  toy  made  in  Germany  of 
which  they  pulled  the  strings.     Their  policy  now 
was  to  appoint  as  soon  as  possible  in  every  Diocese 
Bishops  dependent  on  themselves  who  should  dragoon 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  22/ 

the    clergy,   still    mainly    Tory   and    Jacobite,   into 
obedience,  or  at  any  rate  into  silence. 

Hoadley  was  successively  Bishop  of  Bangor,  of 
Salisbury  and  of  Winchester.  He  held  the  see  of 
Bangor  for  six  years  and  during  the  whole  period 
did  not  visit  his  diocese  once  ;  at  the  same  time  he 
was  allowed  to  hold  in  com  moid  am  two  London 
livings,  St.  Peter  le  Poer  and  Streatham.  He  spent 
his  time  congenially  in  servile  adulation  of  the 
Government  and  in  attacking  those  who  still  believed 
that  the  Christian  religion  was  more  than  the 
fashionable  Deism  which  he  professed.  More 
perhaps  than  any  other  he  had  contributed  to  the 
attainder  of  Bishop  Atterbury,  beloved  of  Christ 
Church.  How  the  Oxford  that  has  been  described 
would  regard  such  a  man  need  not  be  said.  Amhurst 
had,  in  his  support  of  Hoadley,  filled  his  cup  to  the 
brim.  If  the  intractable  undergraduate  had  con- 
tented  himself  with  words  only  he  might  have  been 
overlooked,  though  this  is  unlikely,  for  he  was  known 
to  be  the  author  of  many  of  the  most  pungent  jests 
which  were  current  amongst  the  Oxford  Whisfs.  He 
was  not  so  content,  but  rushed  into  print,  and  his 
President  and  tutors  had  the  pleasure  of  reading, 
from  the  press  of  the  notorious  Curl  of  Fleet  Street, 
familiar  to  every  reader  of  Pope,  three  pamphlets, 
one  attacking  their  King  de  hire,  the  other  two  up- 
holding Hoadley.  All  were  anonymous,  but  the 
authorship  of  none  could  be  concealed  for  a  day, 
even  if  Amhurst  desired  to  conceal  it,  which  is  in 
the  last  degree  unlikely.  The  first  pamphlet  was 
entitled  "  An  Epistle  from  a  Student  at  Oxford  to 
the  Chevalier,  occasioned  by  his  Removal  over  the 


228  NICHOLAS    AMHURST. 

Alps  and  the  Discovery  of  the  Swedish  Conspiracy," 
and  was  published  in  1717,  price  sixpence.  It  runs 
smoothly  but  has  little  in  it,  and  is  chiefly  concerned 
to  twit  the  Oxford  Jacobites  with  the  vanity  of 
their  efforts. 

"  Though  few  our  Monarch  with  a  Musquet  own 
(111  suits  the  Musquet  with  a  length  of  gown), 
In  midnight  revels  we  assert  your  Right 
And  share  the  laurels  of  a  bloodless  fight ; 
Ours  be  the  Province  to  inflame  Men's  Ears 
With  bugbear  legends  and  delusive  fears, 
Suspicious  Doubts  to  raise  and  Feuds  foment 
And  sap  the  credit  of  the  Government." 

The  second  pamphlet  was  "  Protestant  Popery,  or 
the  Convocation,"  a  poem  in  five  cantos  addressed  to 
the  Right  Rev.  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Bangor,  and  con- 
tains as  frontispiece  a  portrait  of  Hoadley.  The 
verse  is  dull  stuff,  but  the  preface  contains  a  study 
defiance  from  the  Oxford  undergraduate  : 

"  For  as  to  the  furious  arbitrary  fallible-infallible  Church- 
man, the  passive  non-resisting  Rebellious  Jacobite  and  the 
insolent  Non-Juror,I  shall  most  joyfully  and  with  all  resigna- 
tion abandon  myself  to  their  hatred  and  despise  all  their 
insults  as  I  would  the  impotent  fury  of  madmen  in  fetters. 
They  may  burst  with  envy  if  they  please,  without  giving 
me  any  uneasiness." 

The  third  pamphlet  was  "  The  Protestant  Session  : 
A  Poem  addressed  to  the  Right  Honourable  Earl 
Stanhope,  by  a  member  of  the  Oxford  Constitutional 
Club."     In  schoolboy  verse  it  tells  how— 


NICHOLAS    AMIH'KST.  229 

"  Pensive  and  pale  desponding  Albion  sate 
And  hourly  waited  her  impending-  fate, 
Till  George  arose  in  every  grace  designed 
To  stop  tbe  ruin  and  defend  mankind. 


In  this  great  generous  work  with  glaring  ligln 
The  learned  Hoadle}*  strikes  my  ravished  sight  ; 
In  the  dear  Cause  the  spotless  chief  combines, 
Shines  in  the  pulpit,  in  the  Senate  shines." 

The  time  was  now  come  for  Amhurst  to  make 
good  his  spirited  defiance.     He  sa}'s  : 

"I  was  besides  a  member  of  the  Constitutional  Club  ami 
suspected  to  be  the  author  of  several  poems  and  pamphlets 
containing  bitter  reflections  upon  the  Clergy,  the  Uni- 
versities, and  the  Pretender,  which  still  aggravated  the 
malignity  of  my  character  and  procured  to  me  the  fatal 
resentments  of  my  superiors." 

He  admits,  of  course,  ironically,  that — - 

"  The  Head  of  my  College  was  so  kind  as  frequently  to 
admonish  me  of  the  danger  of  my  ways  and  conjure  me 
with  a  fatherly  affection  to  turn  from  them,  yet  I  was  so 
much  blinded  with  oaths,  conscience  and  what  not  that  I 
still  continued  in  open  rebellion  against  the  University  and 
the  Church." 

The  three  years  of  probation  were  now  over  and 
the  blow  fell.  By  ten  votes  to  four  Amhurst  was 
refused  his  Fellowship  and  sent  about  his  business. 

He  left  Oxford  in  bitter  resentment,  which  he 
nourished  into  a  hatred  of  St.  John's  and  of  its 
President,  Dr.  Delaune,  which  became  almost  gro- 
tesque. Apart  from  politics  he  had  never  cared  for 
Oxford  or  its  society,  as  he  showed  in  some  rhyming 


230  NICHOLAS    AMHURST. 

letters  which  he  wrote  to  a  friend  in  London,  and 
afterwards  published  : 

••  Well  dost  thou  ask  me  in  thy  friendly  lays 
How  in  this  factious  place  I  spend  my  days? 
Why  briefly  thus  :  as  is  the  modish  way 
Seldom  I  read  and  much  more  seldom  pray, 
Logick  I  like  not,  that  mechanic  art; 
To  prove  the  whole  is  greater  than  a  part ; 
Divinity  and  Law  alike  displease, 
In  short  I  love  my  bottle  and  my  ease  ; 
The  tenor  of  a  College  life  I  keep, 
Eat  thrice  a  day,  pun,  smoke,  get  drunk  and  sleep/' 

Again,  after  returning  from  London  to  Oxford, 
he  wrote : 

"  To  College  wretched  I  return 
And  day  and  night  with  Spleen  I  burn  ; 
From  jovial  friends,  from  pipe  and  bottle, 
To  prayers  and  must}7  Aristotle ; 
From  decent  meals  and  wholesome  wines 
To  foggy  ale  and  mutton  loins, 
From  well-bred  mirth  to  stupid  puns 
Of  Pedants  and  of  College  Dons ; 
My  happy  course  of  life  I  change, 
No  more  I  dress,  no  more  1  range, 
But  pensive  mope  within  all  day, 
And  sleep  and  rhyme  the  hours  away." 

The  President  of  St.  John's  College  at  this  time 
was  Dr.  Wrilliam  Delaune,  who  is  described  by  the 
Oxford  antiquary,  Hearne,  as  "  a  very  well  bred 
man,  as,  indeed,  he  is."  In  his  youth  he  had  been 
attached  to  the  Court  for  many  years,  but  left  it  to 
take  Holy  Orders,  whereupon  King  Charles  II 
remarked  :  ';  We  have  lost  one  of  the  finest  gentle- 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  2ol 

men  in  England."  He  was  born  one  year  before 
the  Restoration,  and  to  the  end  of  his  life,  in  1728, 
remained  "an  old  honest  Cavalier"  as  a  contem- 
porary described  him.  That  he  was  no  Jacobite 
bigot  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  he  was  appointed 
by  William  III  to  a  canonry  of  Westminster  in  1711, 
and  from  1715  to  his  death  he  was  Lady  Margaret 
Professor  of  Divinity.  Such  a  man  was  not  likely 
to  look  leniently  on  Amhnrst's  politics,  still  less, 
perhaps,  on  that  lack  of  manners  which  was  always 
his  main  blemish.  Addressing  Delaune  in  a  little 
volume  of  '  Poems  on  Several  Occasions,'  of  which 
a  second  edition  was  published  in  1723,  and  which 
was  dedicated  to  the  President,  he  says,  in  a  bitter 
preface : 

Ci  To  you.  Sir,  and  the  learned  old  woman,  my  Mother 
[he  refers  of  course  to  Alma  Mater],  I  am  also  indebted 
for  the  title  and  privileges  of  a  Gentleman  :  when  I  came 
to  the  University  I  thought  myself  a  vile  Plebeian  ;  but  I 
am  told  that  a  liberal  education  intitles  me  to  a  liberal 
character,  and  accordingly  I  have  now  clapt  on  a  sword 
and  a  tye  twig  and  a  laced  hat,  and  keep  company  now 
with  the  best  Gentleman  in  the  County.  Indeed  I  am 
myself  by  Birth  a  sort  of  Gentleman,  for  my  Father  was  a 
country  grazier  and  my  Grandfather  a  country  parson, 
which  is,  you  will  say,  no  mean  extraction." 

He  had  now  felt  the  full  force  of  the  authority 
which  he  had  flouted.  He  tells  his  own  story,  still 
addressing  Dr.  Delaune. 

"  Nor  ought  I  to  forget  the  good  advice  and  many  kind 
warnings  you  were  pleased  to  give  me.  You  fairly  told  me 
bet' ( irehand  that  I  did  not  take  the  right  way  to  a  Fellowship 
in    your   College,    that  I    must    not    follow    my   own    wild 


232  NICHOLAS    AMin  i;sr. 

opinions  nor  my  own  hare-brained  judgmeul  :  you  told  me 
thai  !  had.  the  character  of  a  turbulent,  obstinate,  malicious, 
ill-natured  fellow,  and  (what  is  still  worse  than  all,  said 
you)  that  I  was  inclined  to  infidelity.     .     .     .     Happy  had 

it  been  For  me  it'  I  had.  followed  your  advice  !  But  instead 
of  that,  like  a  fool,  1  got  a  cock  horse  upon  reason  and 
gallop'd  away  in  romantick  search  of  a  fair  Lady  called 
Truth." 

He  goes  on  to  assert  that  "  there  is  such  a  thing 
in  the  world  as  hanging  a  man  first  and  trying 
him  afterwards  :  so  it  fared  with  me,"  and  sums  up 
with  what  he  calls  his  indictment  of  which  this  is  a 
sample  : 

"  Advices  from  Oxford  say  that  on  the  29th  of  June, 
1719,  one  Nicholas  Amhurst  of  St.  John's  College  was 
expelled  for  the  following  reasons  :  Imprimis  :  For  loving- 
foreign  Turnips  and  Presbyterian  bishops.  Item,  For 
believing  that  Steeples  and  Organs  are  not  absolutely 
necessary  to  salvation. 

"Item,  For  ingratitude  to  his  benefactor,  that  spotless 
martyr  St.  William  Laud." 

That  Amlmrst's  expulsion  cost  him  the  help  of 
his  relations  he  shows  in  the  same  preface  : 

"  I  am  informed,  and  pretty  credibly  too,  that  when  com- 
plaints began  to  multiply  and  grow  loud  against  me,  you 
did,  in  your  great  goodness,  condescend  to  write  a  letter 
to  a  certain  reverend  relation  of  mine,  to  acquaint  him  with 
my  behaviour,  and  the  character  I  laboured  under,  desiring 
at  the  same  time  his  advice  what  to  do  with  me,  and  that 
you  put  it  in  his  power  to  keep  me  in  my  Fellowship,  or  to 
turn  me  out  of  it  ...  I  am  further  informed  that  you 
have  since  waited  upon  this  reverend  gentlemen  to  notify 
unto  him  what  was  done  against  me  and  how  loth  you  were  to 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  233 

comply  with  it  upon  his  account;  and  that  you  found  him 
so  perfectly  satisfied  with  year  conduct  and  so  inveterately 
enraged  against  me,  that  he  declared  in  the  most  ungentle 
manner,  '  He  .cared  not  what  became  of  me.'  '' 

Again,  lie  says  humorously — 

"I  was  particularly  unfortunate  in  the  Displeasure  of  a 
pretty  female  relation,  who  (upon  hearing  that  I  was 
expelled  from  the  University  :  for  that  is  our  country 
phrase)  exclaimed  with  some  vehemence,  that  she  was  sorry 
I  should  bring  such  a  disgrace  upon  the  family  !  Now  as  I 
ought  to  be  as  much  concerned  for  the  Honour  of  the 
Amhurstian  Family  as  this  fair  Lady  I  have  seriously  taken 
it  into  my  consideration  how  my  exclusion  could  possibly 
bring  disgrace  upon  it.  ...  I  would  ask  any  reason- 
able Christian,  whether  the  Fall  of  the  Apostate  angels 
brought  any  disgrace  upon  the  Angelic  family,  or  whether 
it  would  not  have  rather  seemed  a  disgrace  to  it  if  they 
had  not  fell.  Thus  had  I  continued  in  the  high  and 
eminent  station  of  a  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College  in  Oxford 
I  might  indeed  have  brought  disgrace  upon  my  Family, 
but  being  cast  down  from  thence,  into  the  low  and 
o-rovellino- condition,  in  which  I  now  am,  it  is  impossible  for 
me  to  do  it." 

In  his  "low  and  grovelling  condition"  lie  shook 
the  dust  of  Oxford  off  his  feet,  and  turned  his  steps, 
as  many  a  better  and  many  a  worse  than  he  had  done 
before,  to  London  and  to  Grub  Street. 

He  had  already  contemplated  this  alternative  in 
some  verses,  which  he  afterwards  published,  entitled, 
"  Advice  to  myself  on  being  threatened  to  be  ex- 
pelled." 

"  Whither,  expelled,  for  succour  wilt  thou  run, 
Thy  Fortune  squandered  and  thy  Fame  undone'" 
A  dark  blind  room  in  Grub  Street  wilt  thou  take 


234  NICHOLAS    AMHUEST. 

And  venial  ditties  for  thy  living  make? 

Wilt  thou  in  love  odes  or  in  satire  deal  ? 

Translate  old  authors  or  from  modern  steal  ? 

In  mournful  Elegiac  Rhimes  complain, 

Or  try  thy  fate  in  the  dramatic  strain  ? 

These  are  the  arts  in  which  but  few  prevail, 

For  one  that  gets  a  dinner  twenty  fail. 

Or  wilt  thou  rather  studious  of  Success 

Lay  schemes  with  Curll  and  ply  the  spurious  Press 

By  fraud  and  artifice  obtain  Kenown 

And  with  decoying  titles  cheat  the  Town  ?  " 

Dr.  Delaune  and  a  large  majority  of  his  colleagues 
may  be  pardoned  for  deciding  that  if  they  were  to 
retain  Nicholas  Amlmrst  within  their  society  he 
would  bring  them  neither  in  morals  nor  in  politics 
a  sufficient  return  for  the  loss  to  Grub  Street  of  so 
apt  a  recruit. 

The  air  of  Grub  Street  was  always  murky,  but 
never,  perhaps,  so  murky/  as  in  the  quarter  of  a 
century  from  the  accession  of  George  I  to  the  end 
of  Walpole's  long  administration  in  1742.  In 
epochs,  as  in  individuals,  we  note  the  lassitude  and 
the  reaction  which  follow  a  spell  of  exceptional 
activity  or  of  vivid  emotion.  Such  a  period  now 
confronted  England.  The  Peace  of  Utrecht  had,  in 
1713,  put  an  end  to  an  international  rivalry  between 
England  and  France,  which  had  lasted  with  but 
slight  intervals  for  more  than  thirty  years,  and 
which  was  not  to  be  resumed  until  the  close  of  the 
period  considered  in  this  paper.  Thus  war,  the 
greatest  stimulant  to  the  human  faculties,  was  with- 
drawn from  the  forces  then  impelling  English 
opinion.  Similarly  with  Religion.  The  Toleration 
Act    of    1689,    by    including   within    its    scope    all 


NICHOLAS    AMHUKST. 


235 


denominations  except  Jews,  Romanists,  and  Uni- 
tarians, had  diminished  that  acute  theological 
controversy  which  had  been  as  the  breath  of  life 
to  the  Arminian  and  the  Calvinist  of  the  previous 
century,  and  had  left  the  new  generation  only  the 
contemptible  squabbles  of  such  disputants  as 
Hoadley  and  Snape. 

In  domestic  politics  the  Revolution  Settlement  of 
1 088,  and  more  particularly  the  Act  of  Settlement  of 
1 701,  had  definitely  concluded  the  period  of  personal 
government  in  favour  of  a  sovereign,  probably 
without  the  inclination,  certainly  without  the  ability, 
to  alter  the  terms  of  the  contract  under  which  he 
has  agreed  to  accept  his  squalid  regal  position. 
"  In  England,"  exclaimed  George  II,  in  a  moment 
of  unusual  illumination,  "  Ministers  are  King/'  It 
is,  then,  in  the  struggle  of  ministers  that  we  look 
for  the  main  interest  of  the  next  thirty  years.  But 
here  again  there  was  no  clear  and  invigorating  line 
of  division.  Toryism  now  meant  Jacobitism ;  from 
being  a  living  power  in  the  State  it  had  become,  by 
its  sympthy  with  the  exiled  Royal  family,  suspect, 
by  its  adherence  to  the  rising  of  1715  treasonable, 
and  discredited  in  the  eyes  of  the  de  facto  govern- 
ment. •  To  assail  the  Tories  was  now  as  little  useful 
as  flogging  a  dead  horse. 

What  of  Literature  ?  The  great  masters  of 
Anne's  reign  were  almost  all  gone.  The  '  Spectator' 
published  his  first  number  on  Thursday,  March  1st, 
1711;  his  last  on  Monday,  December  20th,  1714. 
The  year  before  he  ceased  Addison  had  produced 
'  Cato,'  and  in  the  live  years  left  to  him  he  Avrote 
nothing  upon    which  his   place   in   literature   rests. 


236  NICHOLAS    AMIIIKST. 

Steele's  'Tatler'  ended   a   short  Life  of   two  years 
in     1711;     the    'Guardian'    barely    survived    fche 
'Spectator,'  and   by  that  time  Steele  was  a   spent 
force  in    literature.      Jonathan  Swift,  the  greatest  of 
them  all,  for  ten  years  blazed  even  more  fiercely  till 
his    light    flickered    out   in   madness.       Arbuthnot, 
alone  entitled  to   stand  near  him  as  a  satirist,  had 
done  all  his  best  work  before  the  death  of  Anne. 
Pope,  and  perhaps  Pope  alone  remained   with  Swift 
in  the  third  decade  of  the  century  to  uphold  the  full 
glory  of  that    brilliant   group.      The  giants  of  the 
forest  were  no  more;  there  was  room  for  new  growth, 
but  for  the  saplings  the  old  inspiring  forces  were  no 
lono-er  to  be  found.     In  Grub  Street,  Amhurst  would 
meet  plenty  of   university  men   with  characters  no 
better  and  Avits  not  half  so  good  as  his  own.     They 
formed   the   upper  crust  of    the  circle  of    literary 
banditti  who  resided  there,  and  who  provided  libels, 
witticism,  or  forgeries  at  very  cheap  rates. 

There  were  great  prizes  to  be  had  too.  "  By  his 
pen  Addison  had  risen  to  one  of  the  highest  offices 
of  the  State.  A  few  graceful  poems  had  made  the 
fortunes  of  Stepney,  Prior,  Gay,  Parnell,  Tickell, 
and  Ambrose  Phillips.  By  his  Essays  Steele  had 
won  a  Commissionship  of  Stamps."  * 

It  was  now  that  Amhurst  conceived  the  brilliant 
idea  of  turning  his  ill-fortunes  at  Oxford  into 
guineas.  Such  was  the  origin  of  '  Terra?  Filius,' 
"  the  two  bitter  little  octavos  that  made  him  famous." 
The  name  was  that  born  by  a  licensed  jester  at  the 
Encaenia  in  Oxford,  too  long  tolerated, but  suppressed 
before  Amhurst's  day.     The  first  number  of  '  Terra? 

*  J.  Clmrton  Collins  '  Voltaire  in  England.' 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  237 

Filius '  appeared  on  Wednesday,  January  11th, 
1721,  the  fiftieth  and  last  on  Saturday,  July  Gth. 
They  were  afterwards  re-published  in  book  form. 
In  these  papers  Amhurst  sets  up  in  trade  as  pn> 
fessional  satirist,  and  devotes  himself  entirely  to  the 
university  which  had  ejected  him — its  methods  of 
education  and  of  granting  degrees  and  its  disloyalty 
to  the  new  dynasty.  He  depicts  its  heads  of 
Houses,  dons  and  undergraduates,  their  dress  and 
their  humours,  as  he  had  observed  them  in  college, 
in  coffee  houses,  and  in  taverns.  It  is  spoilt  for  the 
general  reader  by  the  coarseness  which  disfigures  it  * 
as  it  disfigures  so  much  of  the  literature  of  the 
time,  but  if  this  be  allowed  for,  it  is,  in  the  words  of 
the  latest  historian  of  the  college  chiefly  attacked, 
"  not  ill-fooling  some  of  it :  but  it  is  no  honest  record 
of  St.  John's  in  the  days  of  Dr.  Delaune."  He  also 
published  in  1720  'Poems  on  Several  Occasions,' 
which  he  dedicated  to  the  President  with  a  bitter 
preface,  from  which  I  have  already  quoted.  He 
formed  during  this  period  a  friendship  with  R. 
Francklin,  who  had  a  printing-house,  first  (1  720  and 
1723)  at  the  Sun  in  Fleet  Street,  later  (1726)  under 
Tom's  Coffee  House  in  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden. 
This  man  now  published  all  Amhurst's  works  and 
befriended  him  to  the  day  of  his  death.  One  of 
the  best  of  Amhurst's  excursions  in  lighter  verse  at 
this  time  was  dated  by  him  "  From  my  Lodgings  up 
three  pairs  of  stairs  at  Mr.  Francklin's  in  Fleet 
Street,  July  15,  1720."  It  is  "An  Epistle  (with 
a  Petition  in  it)  to  Sir  John  Blount,  Bart.,  one  of  the 

*  In  my  quotations  I  have  altered  a  word  here  ;u:d  there  on  this 
account. 


238  NICHOLAS    A.MHUHST. 

Directors  of  fche  South  Sea  Company,"  and  satirises 
the  methods  of  the  poor  Grub  Street  scribbler,  whose 
ranks  he  lias  joined.  Needless  to  say  the  company 
is  that  known  to  later  ages  as  the  famous  South 
Sea  Bubble. 

He  addresses  Sir  John  Blount  in  order  that  the 
waters  of  charity  may  flow  freely. 

"  So  Moses  smote  the  barren  Rock, 
An  Emblem  of  the  South  Sea  Stock. 


For  'tis  a  common  practice  grown 

Among  us  scribblers  of  the  Town, 

When  fortune  says,  'Poor  Rogues,  go  whistle  ' 

To  some  great  man  to  send  Epistle, 

One  that  has  Will  as  well  as  Power 

To  raise  us  in  a  lucky  hour. 

Thus  Prior,  sorrowful  and  lean, 

A  Statesman  grew  and  Swift  a  Dean. 

Whenever,  therefore,  Madam  Fame 

Is  pleased  to  raise  some  mighty  name, 

For  service  to  his  Country  paid 

In  Battle,  Counsel,  Law  or  Trade, 

One  of  our  meagre  order  spies  him, 

And  for  his  patron  closely  plies  him. 

Thus  like  a  leech  he  keeps  his  hold 

Till  loosened  with  a  little  gold 

Or  silenced  with  a  little  place, 

The  only  cures  in  such  a  case." 

He  recounts  the  disadvantages  of  possessing  no 
South  Sea  Stock  : 

"Oft  am  I  asked  'Nick,  prithee  now 
In  South  Sea  Stock  how  much  hast  thou  ?  ' 
To  which  I  shake  my  ears  and  cry, 
'Hang  it,  I've  none,  the  more  fool  I.'" 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  239 

His    former    servant    has    invested,    with     what 
results  !     He  sees  in  his  carriage — 

"  A  coxcomb  loll  who  but  last  year 
A  livery  was  content  to  wear, 
Now  sumptuously  at  Caviac's  dine 
And  drink  the  very  best  of  wine- 
Burgundy,  Hermitage,  Champagne, 
Liquors  that  fire  the  dullest  brain; 
While  I,  perhaps,  ill-fated  sinner, 
Want  half  a  crown  to  buy  a  dinner, 
Or  at  a  cheap  cook's  shop  regale 
On  a  sheep's  heart  and  Pot  of  ale." 

As  to  his  friends  who  have  invested  in  South  Sea 
Stock : 

"  When  at  the  Coffee  House  we  meet 
Or  in  the  Alley  or  the  Street, 
On  me  they  never  cast  an  eye 
But  take  their  snuff  and  shoulder  by." 

He  desires  Sir  John  to  insert  the  name  of  Nicholas 
Amhurst  among  the  shareholders  in  the  next  list, 
and  bids  him  mark  his  unusual  candour  in  saying 
outright  what  he  wants  : 

"  But  how  much  better  would  it  be 
For  every  Poet  just  like  me 
To  tell  his  meaning  at  a  word  ; 
I  want  just  fifty  pounds  my  lord, 
Which  sum  if  you  refuse  to  give 
I  shall  eternally  believe 
For  all  that  I  have  said  before 
That  you're  a  sneak  and  nothing  more; 
This  would  be  downright  honest  dealing 
And  might  deserve  a  fellow  feeling, 
But  when  a  Blockhead  of  a  Bard 


2  !■<>  NICHOLAS    A.MHURST. 

Declares  he  looks  for  no  reward, 
And  that  his  Lordship's  shining  worth 
\Y;is  the  solo  motive  on  Grod's  earth 
Thar  made  him  say  what  he  had  said, 
When  all  this  while  it  was  for  bread, 
Were  I  his  Lordship  for  the  jest,  Sir, 
1  would  not  give  the  dog  a  Tester." 

He  remains  cheerfully  in  his  garret — 

"  Secure  that  e'er  a  few  months  end 
Relying  on  so  good  a  friend, 
We  both  shall  leave  this  servile  garret, 
Good  wild  fowl  eat  and  drink  good  claret ; 
And  since  to  him  we  owe  our  wealth 
Never  forget  Sir  John's  good  health." 

And  sure  enough  in  a  few  months  Amhurst  was 
out  of  his  garret,  out  of  Grub  Street,  away  from  his 
sheep's  hearts  and  pots  of  ale,  able  to  drink  Burgundy 
and  Hermitage  and  Champagne  to  his  full  content, 
and  this  new  turn  of  fortune's  wheel  came,  not  from 
Sir  John  Blount  or  a  lucky  gamble  in  South  Sea 
Stock,  but  from  the  highest  circle  of  politicians. 

From  the  crash  of  credit  and  of  fortune  which 
followed  the  bursting  of  the  South  Sea  Bubble  one 
Whig  politician  emerged  with  fairly  clean  hands, 
and  was  enabled  by  his  rare  financial  skill  to  save 
some  fragments  from  the  wreck.  This  was  a  plain, 
a  very  plain,  Norfolk  squire,  who  from  this  beginning 
raised  himself  to  an  autocracy  unparalleled  in  any 
subject  of  the  English  Crown  before  or  since.  The 
politics  of  England  were  to  be  dominated  for  twenty- 
one  years  by  Robert  Walpole,  a  man  without  learning, 
without  ideals,  and  without  morals,  but  possessed  of 


NICHOLAS    AMHUEST.  241 

a  personality  before  which  learning,  ideals  and 
morals  retired  abashed.  He  was  the  first  "  to 
organise  corruption  as  a  system  and  to  make  it 
the  normal  process  of  parliamentary  government." 
For  those  who  invoked  morality,  honesty,  or  national 
feeling  he  had  but  bantering  names — "Saint," 
"Patriot,"  "Spartan";  "You  will  know  better 
when  you  are  older  "  he  would  say. 

It  was  one  thing  for  a  plain  Norfolk  squire  to 
come  to  the  help  of  an  embarrassed  government 
with  a  financial  skill  unusual,  indeed,  not  only  in 
squires  but  in  every  circle  of  society  outside  the 
City.  It  was  quite  another  when  he  began  to 
absorb  places,  honours  and  everything  that  was 
good  and  to  dole  out  his  favours  only  to  those  who 
were  pledged  iurare  in  verba  magistri.  Carteret, 
Townshend,  Pulteney,  Chesterfield,  all  men  of 
ability  and  independence  were  in  turn  thrown  out 
of  the  well-feathered  Whig  nest  by  this  cuckoo 
Minister.  His  unpopularity  grew  apace,  and  even 
the  downtrodden  Tory  dared  to  raise  his  feeble 
voice  again  in  the  general  chorus — "  Walpole  must 

go- 
In  1723  the  circle  of  his  enemies  was  strengthened 

by  the  accession  of  the  most  remarkable  English- 
man then  living.  Henry  St.  John,  Viscount  Boling- 
broke,  had,  when  he  began  his  political  career,  set 
Alcibiades  before  him  for  his  model,  and  he  had, 
indeed,  emulated  that  brilliant  and  worthless  Greek 
in  profligacy,  unscrupulousness  and  achievement. 
Whether  he  did  or  did  not,  as  some  have  claimed 
for  him,  teach  atheism  to  Voltaire,  kingcraft  to 
George  III  and  politics  to  Benjamin  Disraeli,  it  is 
vol.  xxxi.  18 


2  12  NICHOLAS    AMHUEST. 

certain  that  his  superb  English  and  flamboyant 
philosophy  attracted  to  him  and  placed  at  his 
disposal  all  that  was  most  eminent  in  English 
literary  society.  Attainted  for  his  adherence  to  the 
Pretender  he  had  now  induced  the  Government  to 
permit  his  return  and  to  restore  his  estates,  but  he 
was  not  allowed  to  take  his  seat  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  the  arena  where  he  was  most  effective  and 
most  dangerous.  He  therefore  threw  himself  the 
more  eagerly  into  a  scheme,  probably  originated  by 
the  disaffected  Whig,  William  Pulteney,  of  producing 
a  journal  which  should  be  devoted  to  the  single 
purpose  of  harrying  Walpole.  Pulteney  was  a  man  of 
influential  family,  of  very  great  wealth  and  of  unusual 
learning.  As  a  wit  he  was  held  to  be  scarcely 
inferior  to  Chesterfield,  and  Walpole  himself  said  of 
his  oratory  that  he  feared  Pulteney 's  tongue  more 
than  another  man's  sword.  He  was,  too,  what  few 
of  his  contemporaries  were,  a  man  of  high  moral 
character.  Such  were  the  originators  of  the  famous 
'  Craftsman,'  which  achieved  an  instant  success  on 
a  scale  hitherto  unheard  of.  It  was  not  possible,  of 
course,  for  men  of  the  rank  of  Bolingbroke  and  of 
Pulteney  to  edit  such  a  journal  themselves.  For  this 
duty  they  needed  a  deputy  sufficiently  subordinate 
to  shoot  their  bolts  when  and  as  they  were  sent  to 
him,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  sufficiently  able  to 
carry  on  the  warfare  on  his  own  account  when  his 
illustrious  chiefs  were  unable  or  indisposed  to  do 
the  work  themselves.  With  rare  discrimination 
Pulteney  selected  Amhurst  for  the  post.  He  had 
himself  been  educated  at  Westminster  and  Christ 
Church,  and  must  have  read  with  interest,  and  as  a 


NICHOLAS    AMIII'KST.  243 

Whig  with  modified  approval,  Amhurst's  violent 
diatribes  against  his  University. 

Easily  enough,  to  be  sure,  Amhnrst  would  carry 
off  the  prize  by  which  at  one  bound  lie  sprang  from 
his  drudgery  in  Grab  Street  to  the  most  brilliant 
and  most  dangerous  position  that  then  could  be  held 
by  a  man  of  letters.  It  may  be  that  they  bought 
the  clever  unprincipled  fellow  at  Battersea  under 
the  roof  tree  of  that  very  Bolingbroke  whose  health 
he  had,  as  a  freshman,  refused  to  drink  at  Oxford. 
Undismayed  by  the  rank  and  the  achievements  of 
his  employers  he  would,  to  be  sure,  swagger  out  of 
St.  John's  House  as  he  had  swaggered  out  of  St. 
John's  College,  Oxford,  only  a  little  harder,  and,  if 
possible,  a  little  coarser,  for  his  short  residence 
in  Grub  Street.  So  he  would  swagger  out,  the 
sorry  turncoat,  confessed  for  all  his  Protestant  fire, 
for  all  his  education,  for  all  his  supercilious  satire  on 
better  men,  no  Christian,  nor  scholar,  nor  gentleman, 
but  cheerfully  undertaking  to  support  all  those  or 
any  other  parts  for  good  consideration  duly  received. 

Bolingbroke  and  Pulteney,  too,  .must  have  been 
well  content.  '  Terrse  Filius  '  was  their's.  The  pen 
that  had  libelled  a  great  University  in  the  Whig 
interest  was  bought  over  to  attack  the  arch  Whig 
himself.  He  was  pledged  to  publish  innuendoes, 
concealed  libels,  direct  frontal  attacks,  able  and 
eager  to  write  them  himself  and  ready  t<>  lace  the 
horse-whip,  the  pillory,  and,  maybe,  the  Attorney- 
General.  It  was  one  of  the  best  appointments  ever 
made.  Strongly  entrenched  as  Walpole  might  be, 
with  his  paid  henchmen  and  his  reptile  press,  he 
mierht  well  beware  of  such  a  triumvirate. 

vol.  xxxi.  L8§ 


244  NICHOLAS    AMHURST. 

From  this  time  Amhnrst  disappears  as  an  indivi- 
dual save  on  one  or  two  brief  occasions.  Hence- 
forward lie  is  Caleb  Dan  vers,  a  Bencher  of  Gray's 
Inn,  who  has  retired  from  the  active  practice  of  the 
law,  and  proposes  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  in 
the  capacity  of  critic  of  the  administration  of  public 
affairs.  Caleb  Danvers  is  the  nom  de  guerre  of 
Amhnrst,  Bolingbroke,  and  Pulteney,  and  the 
historians  of  the  period  have  only  been  able  to 
assign  incompletely  the  authorship  of  the  articles  to 
each . 

From  its  first  issne  on  December  5th,  1726,  the 
'  Craftsman  '  was  a  triumphant  success  ;  at  one  time 
its  circulation  exceeded  10,000  copies  a  week,  which 
for  those  days  was  enormous.  Whether  it  were 
Bolingbroke  or  Pulteney  or  Amhnrst  who  struck, 
the  blow  seldom  missed  the  mark.  They  had,  too, 
powerful  auxiliary  forces,  for  among  their  contribu- 
tors are  said  to  have  been  Swift,  Arbuthnot,  and 
Chesterfield,  to  say  nothing  of  Addison's  egregious 
cousin,  the  notorious  Eustace  Budgell.  All  their 
efforts  were  directed  to  the  destruction  of  what  they 
called  the  "  Robinocracy  "  of  Walpole.  He  figures 
in  every  conceivable  disguise:  he  is  Sejanus,  Empson, 
Dudley,  Strafford,  or  Danvers'  clumsy  servant, 
Robin,  who  spills  the  family  coach.  He  is  now 
a  large  macaw,  parti-coloured  with  red  and  blue,  at 
another  time,  in  allusion  to  the  Garter  which  had 
been  given  to  him,  though  he  was  only  a  commoner, 
he  is  Sir  Bluestring,  or  again,  Sir  Robert  Brass. 

As  may  be  supposed,  Walpole  was  not  without  his 
partisans  against  the  '  Craftsman.'  On  one  occasion 
he  took  up  the  cudgels  himself  in  a  direct  encounter 


NICHOLAS    AMHUKST.  245 

with  Bolingbroke,  but  usually  his  defence  and 
counter-attacks  were  undertaken  by  his  brother,  Sir 
Horatio  Walpole,  by  Bishop  Hoadley  and  by  Lord 
Hervey.  An  embittered  controversy  between  the 
last  named  and  Pulteney  led  to  a  duel  on  January 
25th,  1731,  which  took  place  in  Upper  St.  James's 
Park  behind  Arlington  Street,  now  the  Green  Park. 
The  seconds  were  Mr.  Fox  and  Mr.  Rushout.  Both 
principals  were  slightly  wTounded,  and  at  one 
moment  Pulteney  could  have  run  Hervey  through 
had  not  his  foot  slipped.  The  seconds  then  separated 
them,  "upon  which  Mr.  Pulteney  embraced  Lord 
Hervey  and  expressed  a  great  deal  of  concern  at 
the  accident  of  the  quarrel,  promising  at  the  same 
time  that  he  would  never  personally  attack  him 
again,  either  with  his  mouth  or  with  his  pen.  Lord 
Hervey  made  him  a  low  bow  without  giving  him 
any  sort  of  answer,  and  (to  use  the  common  expres- 
sion) they  parted." 

In  the  spring  of  the  same  year  seven  volumes  of 
political  essay  collected  from  the  '  Craftsman  '  since 
the  beginning  were  published,  each  volume  adorned 
with  an  engraved  frontispiece  which  represented  in 
what  the  '  Craftsman  s  was  pleased  to  call  "  hiero- 
glyphics "  the  misdoings  of  the  great  Minister. 
These  seven  plates  were  reproduced  as  a  broadside 
with  verses  beneath.  The  title,  "  Robin's  Reign,  or 
Seven's  the  Main,"  is  plainly  from  the  pen  of* 
Amhurst,  for  "  seven's  the  main  "  is  a  phrase  he  flung 
at  Dr.  Delaune  on  more  than  one  occasion  in  allusion 
to  his  alleged  propensity  for  the  gaming  table.  For 
this  jeu  d'esprit  George  II,  much  incensed,  struck 
the  name  of  Pulteney  from  the  list  of  Privy  Conn- 


2  !<)  NICHOLAS    AMIIUKST. 

oillors,  and  Richard  Francklin  the  printer  was 
arrested.  He  suffered  fche  same  fate  six  years  later 
for  a  "  suspected  libel  "  in  the  '  Craftsman  '  of  July 
2nd,  17;>>7.  A  Letter  purporting  to  come  from  Colley 
Cibber,  the  Poet  Laureate,  suggested  that  the  new  act 
for  licensing  plays  should  extend  to  old  as  well  as 
new  works,  and  gave  instances  from  Shakespeare  and 
other  writers  which  might  well  be  interpreted  as 
innuendoes  on  Walpole's  government.  It  urged  that 
the  pretended  writer  Cibber  should  himself  be  made 
licenser  and  corrector  of  old  plays.  Amhurst  sur- 
rendered himself  in  place  of  his  friend,  and  remained 
in  prison  for  some  days.  No  trial  being  begun,  he 
sued  out  his  writ  of  habeas  corpus,  and  as  the 
government  still  held  its  hands,  he  was  released. 

A  question  here  presents  itself  which  must  occur 
to  every  reader  of  the  political  controversialists  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  Why  was  such  license  per- 
mitted ?  Were  there  no  resources  open  to  the 
Government  to  suppress  it,  or  at  least  to  keep  it 
in  moderate  bounds.  The  answer  is  that  the  constant 
tendency  since  the  Long  Parliament  first  sat  in 
1640  was  to  whittle  away  any  such  power. 

The  Licensing  Act  did  not  disappear  till  1693, 
and  even  after  its  disappearance  the  law  remained 
as  before,  and  in  a  leading  case  (Tutchins)  it  was  laid 
down  that  to  possess  the  people  with  an  ill  opinion  of 
the  government,  which  meant  of  course  the  ministry, 
was  a  libel,  and  the  Attorney-General  urged  that  there 
could  be  no  reflection  on  the  ministers  of  the  Crown 
without  a  reflection  being  cast  also  upon  the  Monarch 
himself.  Here,  undoubtedly,  was  a  dangerous 
weapon  in   the  hands  of  an   administration.     For- 


NICHOLAS    AM  HURST.  *--!•/ 

tunately  ministers  were  mindful  of  the  mutability  of 
human  affairs,  and  remembered  that  the  prosecuted 
of  to-day  may  be  the  prosecutor  of  to-morrow.  They 
preferred  to  have  recourse  to  the  same  weapons  as 
their  assailants.  Moreover,  one  or  two  convictions 
would  merely  have  put  an  edge  upon  the  temper  of 
their  opponents,  and  a  wholesale  proscription  of 
political  antagonists  has  been  repugnant  to  all 
English  parties  except  during  the  brief  period  of 
the  Puritan  Tyranny  in  the  seventeenth  century. 

These  considerations  may  serve  to  explain  the 
disgraceful  licence  of  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  In  the  later  half,  when  the  Tories  had 
come  to  their  own  again,  Government  feeling- 
hardened,  for  whereas  the  Whigs  were  the  pro- 
fessional champions  of  licence  of  speech,  the  Tory 
party  had  never  fettered  itself  with  any  such 
absurdity.  A  further  difficulty  remains  which  was 
raised  acutety  in  the  case  before  us.  As  soon  as 
Amhurst  was  released  Pulteney  produced  a  song 
entitled  "  The  Honest  Jury,  or  Caleb  Triumphant," 
which  has  been  described  as  "  once  among  the  most 
popular  in  our  language." 

Two  verses  will  show  its  quality. 

"Rejoice  ye  good  writers,  your  pens  are  set  free, 
Your  thoughts  and  the  press  are  at  full  liberty, 
For  your  King  and  your  country  you  safely  may  write, 
You  may  say  Black  is  Black  and  prove  White  is  White. 

Let  no  pamphleteers, 

Be  concerned  for  their  Ears, 
For  every  man  now  shall  be  tried  by  his  Peers. 

This  Jury  so  trusty  and  proof  against  Rhino, 
I  am  apt  to  believe  to  be  iure  divino  ; 


a  rp 


248  NICHOLAS    AM  HURST. 

I!nt  'lis  true  in  this  Nation  (oh!  why  is  it  so?), 
Men  the  honester  are  the  lower  you  go ; 

So  a  fish  when  it's  dead, 

I  have  often  heard  said, 
May  be  sweet  at  the  tail  though  it  stinks  at  the  head. 
( )h  may  honesty  rise  and  confound  the  base  tribe, 
Who  will  be  corrupted  by  pension  or  bribe  ; 

Then  sure  'tis  the  interest  of  Country  and  King, 

That  Juries  should  never  be  led  in  a  string." 

These  lines  introduce  a  burning  question  which 
remained  unanswered  in  England  until  1  792,  What 
was  the  legal  function  of  the  jury  in  cases  of 
criminal  libel  ?  This,  in  the  particular  case,  means 
of  course  seditious  libel.  The  judges  and  nearly 
all  lawyers  maintained  that  the  jury  might  only 
determine  the  fact  of  publication  and  decide  whether 
the  libel  did  mean  that  which  the  indictment  said 
it  meant.  They  were  not  to  say  whether  it  were 
criminal  or  not ;  that  was  for  the  court  only. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  public  and  a  few  lawyers 
held  that  this  function  also  belonged  to  the  jury. 
The  Act  of  32  George  III,  commonly  known  as 
Fox's  Libel  Act  of  1792,  decided  the  long  contention 
in  favour  of  the  jury.  From  that  day  to  this — to 
ignore  certain  subtle  modifications — twelve  plain 
men  selected  haphazard  have  remained  arbiters  of 
what  contributes  public  decency. 

The  whole  difficulty  has  never  been  put  better, 
probably  never  will,  than  as  it  was  stated  by  Dr. 
Samuel  Johnson  in  his  life  of  Milton  : 

"The  danger  of  such  unbounded  liberty  of  unlicensed 
printing,  and  the  danger  of  bounding  it,  have  produced  a 
problem  in   the  science  of  government  which  the  human 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  249 

understanding  seems  hitherto  unable  to  solve.  If  nothing 
may  be  published  but  what  civil  authority  shall  have  pre- 
viously approved,  Power  must  always  be  the  standard  of 
Truth,  if  every  dreamer  of  innovations  may  propagate  his 
pi-ojecis  there  can  be  no  settlement,  if  eveiy  murmurer  at 
government  may  diffuse  discontent  there  can  be  no  peace, 
and  if  every  sceptic  in  theology  may  teach  his  follies  there 
can  be  no  religion.  The  remedy  against  these  evils  is  to 
punish  the  authors,  for  it  is  yet  allowed  that  every  society 
may  punish  though  not  prevent  the  publication  of  opinions 
which  that  society  shall  think  pernicious.  But  this  punish- 
ment, though  it  may  crush  the  author,  pi*omotes  the  book, 
and  it  seems  not  more  reasonable  to  leave  the  right  of 
printing  unrestrained  because  writers  may  afterwards  be 
censured,  than  it  would  be  to  sleep  with  doors  uubolted 
because  by  our  laws  we  can  hang  a  thief." 

Once  more  and  for  the  last  time,  for  it  brings  his 
life  to  an  end,  I  must  nse  Nicholas  Amhurst  to  illus- 
trate a  cardinal  episode  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
I  wish  it  were  a  pleasanter  episode  with  which  to 
bid  farewell  to  one  who  set  out  so  early  in  life  to 
lash  the  vices  of  the  age. 

William  Hogarth,  whose  pictures,  disgusting  and 
fascinating,  at  once  mark  a  new  epoch  in  art  and 
present  a  view  of  contemporary  life  which,  it  may 
be  hoped,  is  as  highly  coloured  as  Amhurst's  descrip- 
tion of  Jacobite  Oxford,  was  born  in  the  same  year 
as  Nicholas.  He  was  a  Londoner,  and  was  almost 
certainly  an  acquaintance  if  not  a  friend  of  Amhurst, 
for  the  curious  frontispiece  prefixed  to  "  Terrae 
Filius "  is  signed  by  him.  Amongst  Hogarth's 
greatest  pictures  are  those  depicting  the  hideous 
ravages  made  in  the  lower  circles  of  English  society 
by  the  epidemic  of  gin  drinking  which  broke  forth 


250  NICHOLAS    A.MHURST. 

about  1724.  Just  as  the  Mciliucu  Treaty  made  with 
Portugal  in  1703  had  resulted  in  the  gradual  sub- 
stitution  of  Oporto  for  Bordeaux  wine  on  the  tables 
of  English  gentlemen,  so  the  pernicious  brew  of  gin 
ousted  that  good  brown  ale  unmixed  with  malt  with 
which  generations  of  Englishmen  had  regaled  them- 
selves in  comparative  sobriety.  The  influence  of 
gout  on  the  statesmanship  of  England  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century  is  a  chapter  of  history  yet  to  be 
written.  The  influence  of  gin  is  to  be  seen  but  too 
plainly  in  Hogarth's  pictures.  Its  ravages  were 
frightful.  Lecky  writes  of  it :  "  The  passion  for  gin 
drinking  appears  to  have  infected  the  masses  of  the 
population,  and  it  spread  with  the  rapidity  and 
violence  of  an  epidemic.  Small  as  is  the  place 
which  this  fact  occupies  in  English  history,  it  was 
probably,  if  we  consider  all  the  consequences  that 
have  flowed  from  it,  the  most  momentous  in  that  of 
the  eighteenth  century — incomparably  more  so  than 
any  event  in  the  purely  political  or  military  annals 
of  the  country.  The  fatal  passion  for  drink  was  at 
once  irrevocably  planted  in  the  nation."  In  16S4 
five  hundred  thousand  gallons  of  British  spirits 
were  distilled,  in  1735  five  million  gallons.  In  1751, 
Henry  Fielding,  novelist  and  Justice  of  the  Peace, 
wrote  that  gin  was  "  the  principal  sustenance  (if  so 
it  may  be  called)  of  more  than  100,000  people  in  the 
metropolis,  and  he  predicted  that  should  the  drinking 
of  this  poison  be  continued  at  its  present  height 
during  the  next  twenty  years,  there  will  by  that 
time  be  very  few  of  the  common  people  left  to 
drink  it."* 

*  W.  E.  H.  Lecky,  '  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,'  Ch.  4. 


NICHOLAS    AMHURST.  251 

When  Fielding  wrote  this  gin  had  already  claimed 
for  her  appropriate  victim  Nicholas  Amhurst. 

There  are  two  accounts  of  his  end  ;  that  given  by 
Mr.  Low  in  the  '  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  ' 
is  the  kinder.     He  says  : 

"  The  last  years  of  Amhurst' s  life  were  unfortunate. 
When  Pulteney  and  his  friends  made  their  peace  with 
the  Government  they  did  nothing  for  their  useful  associate, 
and  the  closing  portion  of  his  life  appears  to  have  been 
spent  in  much  poverty  and  distress.  He  died  at  Twicken- 
ham, 12  April,  1742,  of  a  broken  heart  it  is  said,  and 
according  to  the  account  was  indebted  to  the  charity  of  his 
printer,  Richard  Franklin,  for  a  tomb." 

A  contemporary  account  was  written  by  Dr. 
Rawlinson,  one  of  the  chief  benefactors  of  the 
College  from  which  Amhurst  had  been  expelled. 
It  is  only  fair  to  say  that  he  was  a  Non-Juror  in 
Episcopal  orders  and  a  staunch  Jacobite  to  the  day 
of  his  death.     He  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  Nicholas  Amhurst  died  at  his  bookseller's,  Mr.  Franck- 
lyn's,  country  house  at  Twickenham  in  Middlesex  on 
April  27  and  was  in  the  most  private  manner  buried 
there  1  May,  1742.  The  cause  of  his  death  was  his  im- 
moderate drinking  of  Geneva  [gin],  which  he  took  to  on  the 
death  of  a  mistress,  with  whom  he  lived  alone  twenty 
years,  and  who  died  the  Christinas  before  him,  and  since 
which  time  he  never  was  concerned  in  the  '  Craftsman/ 
His  friends  as  much  as  possible  encouraged  him,  to  whom 
he  owed  large  sums,  which  they  never  did  or  thought  of 
troubling  him  for ;  Mr.  Pulteney  promised  to  forgive  his 
own,  pay  others5  debts,  and  make  him  easy,  but  all  per- 
suasions were  to  a  deaf  ear.  One  of  his  friends  in  Bucks, 
one  Mr.  Basil,  passed  a  severe  sarcasm  on  him  for  his 
drinking,  which  was,  that  he  was  lyable  to  be  taken  up  by 


252  NICHOLAS    AMHURST. 

the   Custom   or   Excise  Officers,  not  having  a  permit   for 
carrying  with  him  a  vessel  of  spirituous  liquors." 

So  Oxford  laughed  last. 

The  chief  gift  of  Nicholas  Amhurst  was  a  hard, 
coarse  cleverness ;  laughter  is  there,  but  it  is  either 
a  guffaw  or  a  snarl.  There  is  no  real  mirth  in  it 
from  end  to  end.  Though  he  had  cleverness  and  to 
spare,  he  had,  like  the  good  Whig  he  was,  no 
imagination  whatever.  To  him  "  impossible  loyalties  " 
and  "  ages  of  faith "  were  merely  silly.  He  had 
found  out  the  world  too  soon.  Disillusionment 
comes  gratefully  to  middle  age  because  it  makes  the 
imminent  grave  more  welcome,  but  it  is  not  good  for 
boys  to  anticipate  the  disillusionment  of  middle  age. 
It  was  not  good  for  Pope,  it  was  not  good  for 
Amhurst,  The  kindly  veil  of  illusion  he  tore  aside 
and  fixed  his  childish  gaze  upon  the  bare,  horrid  face 
of  the  early  Eighteenth  Century. 

But  he  got  something  out  of  his  life,  perhaps 
more  than  he  would  have  done  if  he  had  fulfilled 
the  destiny  laid  down  for  him  by  his  grandfather, 
for  it  took  certain  gifts  and  a  certain  temperament, 
I  have  no  doubt,  to  make  a  good  Tory  Don  at  Oxford 
in  1 719.  As  a  lad  Amhurst  had  bearded  Dr.  Delaune 
and  thrown  down  the  gauntlet  to  the  great  Tory 
University ;  as  a  man  he  had  bearded  Walpole,  the 
real  King  of  England,  and  had  insulted  that  all- 
powerful  Whig  party  to  which  he  had  sworn  his 
boyish  allegiance. 

He  had  been  made  free  of  a  galaxy  of  brilliance 
in  literature  and  in  politics — and  beyond  thai  r 
nothing  but  unpaid  bills  and  a  drunkard's  grave. 

Not  much  of  a  life  to  live,  perhaps,  but  he  lived 
it  with  a  zest. 


TRANSACTIONS 


&ogal  J^orirtg  of  &ttrraturr 


THE   UNITED   KINGDOM. 


SECOND     SERIES. 
VOL.    XXXI. 


LONDON : 
ASHER    AND    CO., 

13,    BEDFORD    STREET,  W.C. 

MDCCCCXI1. 


PKINTED  BY  ADLARD  AND  SON. 
LONDON  AND  DORKING. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

I .  Lucian  and  His  Times :  the  Underflow  of  Christianity. 

By  Howard  Candler,  M.A.,  F.E.S.L.     ...         1 

II.  The  Best  Poetry.     By  Thomas    Sturge    Moore, 

F.E.S.L 25 

III.  Eecent   Discoveries    of    Classical    Literature.     By 

Joseph  Offord 57 

IV.  English  Domestic  Drama.     By  Arthur  Eustace 

Morgan,  B. A 175 

V.  Nicholas     Amhurst,     1697-1743.       By     Charles 

Edward  Wade,  M.A.,  F.E.S.L 209 

Addresses  at  Broivning's  Centenary,  May  7th,  1912  : 

I.   The   Chairman's   Speech.        By    Edmund   Gosse, 

C.B.,  LL.D 253 

II.  Browning  as  a  Dramatist.     By  Sir  Arthur  Pinbro.     255 

[II.   The  Novel  in  '  The  Eing  and  the  Book.'    By  Henry 

James,  D.Litt "-<>!» 


ADDRESSES  AT  BROWNING'S  CENTENARY, 
MAY  7th,  1912. 

Me.  Edmund  G-osse  (in  the  Chair)  said  :  It  was  not 
to  be  expected  that  the  Academic  Committee  would 
refrain  from  expressing,  in  common  with  the  rest  of 
the  English-speaking  world,  its  emotion  at  the  dis- 
covery that  a  hundred  years  have  passed  since  the 
birth  of  Robert  Bkowning.  I  say — "  the  discovery," 
because  to  one  who  had  the  happiness,  as  I  had,  of 
knowing  him  well  in  years  when  he  seemed  the 
type  of  alertness  and  energy,  the  very  notion  of  the 
centenary  is  startling.  Can  it  be  that,  since  that 
bright  eye,  that  vigorous  frame,  that  eager  and 
buoyant  spirit,  came  into  the  world,  a  century  has 
passed  by  ?  But,  in  spite  of  our  legitimate  emotion, 
we  do  not  propose  to  approach  the  name  and  work 
of  Browning  this  afternoon  in  that  style  of  mere 
grateful  adulation  which  may  well  be  in  keeping 
with  the  sentiment  of  others,  and  elsewhere.  Wo 
desire  rather  to  express  our  respect  for  the  memory 
of  Browning  and  our  still  more  potent  and  para- 
mount respect  for  literature,  by  examining  one  or 
two  aspects  of  his  work  as  they  begin  to  appear 
through  the  moulding  mist  of  the  years.  For  my 
own  part,  I  welcome  all  examination  of  Browning's 
poetry  with  complacency.  His  was  not  one  of 
those     hot-house    temperaments    which    must    bo 

VOL.    XXXT.  19 


254  BROWNINGS   CENTENARY. 

approached  with  diffidence  and  expostulation.  -His 
nature  was  simple,  candid,  perhaps  a  little  rough 
and  ready  in  its  methods.  He  loved  praise — all 
artists  do;  but  lie  had  been  accustomed  to  live 
without  it.  He  liked  to  form  his  own  opinions  and 
carve  out  his  own  road ;  but  he  was  a  man  of  the 
world,  and  a  very  robust,  honourable,  sensible 
human  being;  and  he  knew  that  the  most  wilful  of 
us,  if  he  wishes  to  be  happy,  must  sometimes  take 
the  road  of  others.  I  feel  no  anxiety,  therefore,  as 
to  what  may  be  said  this  afternoon.  But  I  am  sure 
of  this,  that  nothing  would  have  interested  Brown- 
ing more  keenly  than  to  listen  this  afternoon  to  his 
dramatic  efforts  being  analysed  by  our  greatest- 
living  expert  in  stage-craft,  and  the  novel  in  '  The 
Ring'  and  the  Book  '  extracted  by  the  most  ingenious 
of  living  novelists. 


BROWNIXG    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

BY    SIB    AIM'HUK    PINERO. 

In  every  study  of  Robert  Browning's  career  there 
is  one  inevitable  chaper  that  must  be  extremely 
difficult  to  write.  It  is  the  chapter  headed  "  Brown- 
ing" and  the  Drama."  Bv  the  malice  of  fate,  em- 
bodied  for  the  present  occasion  in  the  persons  of  our 
General  Purposes  Committee,  this  chapter  has  been 
assigned  to  me.  The  reason,  I  suppose,  is  that  I  am 
myself  a  writer  for  the  stage ;  but  that  very  qualifi- 
cation, if  it  be  a  qualification,  enhances  tenfold  the 
diffidence  with  which  I  approach  the  subject.  For, 
unfortunately,  the  one  fact  conspicuous  beyond  a 
shadow  of  doubt  is  that,  in  spite  of  all  his  dramatic 
ambition  and  endeavour,  Browning  has  not  suc- 
ceeded in  taking  a  prominent  or  permanent  position 
upon  the  stage.  That  fact  has  to  be  explained,  and 
any  explanation  offered  by  a  practising  playwright 
is  manifestly  open  to  suspicion.  "All  that  you  can 
tell  us,"  it  may  be  said,  "  is  that  Browning  despised 
and  ignored  the  petty  tricks  of  your  trade,  whereby 
von  sometimes — not  always — contrive  to  gain  the 
favour  of  the  vulgar  herd  of  playgoers  ;  beyond  that 
your  explanation  will  scarcely  go."  Possibly  not; 
but  it  is  possible,  too,  that  even  a  practitioner  of 
modern  prose  drama  may  have  given  some  thought 
to  the  fundamental  principles  of  his  craft,  and  may 


256  BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

be  able  to  put  aside  the  bias  of  temporary  fashion 
and  personal  habit  in  studying  such  an  unquestion- 
ably interesting  phenomenon  as  Browning-  the 
Dramatist.  It  is  in  that  hope  that  I  address  myself 
to  the  problem. 

Including  "  Pippa  Passes"  and  "In  a  Balcony," 
Browning  wrote  nine  plays.  Seven  of  the  nine  took 
the  orthodox  dramatic  form  of  acts  and  scenes,  and 
were  obviously  intended  for  the  theatre.  We  have 
ample  evidence  that  he  considered  himself,  by  tem- 
perament and  vocation,  specifically  a  dramatist. 
He  alludes  to  himself  in  a  well  known  poem  as  a 
"  writer  of  plays  " — 

"  Well,  any  how,  here  the  story  stays, 
So  far  at  least  as  I  understand  ; 
And,  Robert  Browning,  you  writer  of   plays, 
Here's  a  subject  made  to  your  hand  \" 

So  he  says   in  "A    Light  Woman."     Undoubtedly 
the  idea  of  drama  was  constantly  in  his  mind.      Two 
of   Iris  noblest  collections  of  poetry    are  called,  re- 
spectively,   "  Dramatic    Lyrics  "    and     "  Dramatic 
Romances,"   while  a  third   has  for   title  "Dramatis 
Persona?  "    and  a  fourth   "  Dramatic  Idylls."      One 
may  safely  assert,  I  think,  that  nine  tenths  of  his 
verse  is   dramatic  in  the  sense  that  he  delivers  it 
through    the  mouth — or  through  the  mask — of  an 
imaginary  character.     In  this  sense  even  "  The  Ring 
and  the   Book  "   is   dramatic — a  gigantic  drama  in 
monologues.     Nor  can  it  be  doubted  that  he  desired 
success  on  the  stage.     He  made  at  least  three  bids 
for  it  in  early  life  ;  and  in  later  life  he  was  far  from 
discountenancing  the  efforts  of  loyal  enthusiasts  to 


BROWNING    AS    A     DRAMATIST.  -O  < 

remove    from    his    dramas    the    reproach    of    being 
unactable. 

But  never  was  an  ambition,  in  so  great  a  man, 
more  hopelessly  baffled.  The  history  of  his  relations 
with  the  stage  is  one  series  of  those  ingenious 
explanations  of  failure  which  are  never  lacking  to 
the  unsuccessful  dramatist.  I  myself  may  at  least 
claim  to  resemble  Browning  in  this  respect  that, 
when  a  play  of  mine  comes  to  grief,  I  can  always 
find  twenty  good  reasons  for  the  disaster  outside  the 
work  itself.  It  is  only  after  years  have  brought 
philosophy  to  the  mind  that  I  begin  to  wonder 
whether  some  defect — or  some  quality — in  my  play 
may  not  have  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  its 
rejection  at  the  hands  of  the  public.  Now,  Brown- 
ing's first  essays  in  drama  were  made  under  the 
most  favourable  auspices.  It  is  true  that  the  stage 
at  that  time  was  in  a  state  of  deep  decline  ;  but  all 
the  best  forces  of  the  moment  were  in  league  with 
him.  Macready,  the  leading  actor  of  the  clay,  was 
eager  to  distinguish  himself  in  new  work  of  intel- 
lectual quality,  and  accepted  "  Strafford  "  with  a 
keenness  which  we  see,  in  his  diary,  gradually  oozed 
away  as  the  play  passed  through  rehearsal.  Forster, 
editor  of  the  '  Examiner '  and  the  chief  of  the 
Macreadyite  press,  was  the  poet's  indefatigable  and 
enthusiastic  friend  ;  and  other  critics,  if  they  showed 
little  comprehension,  at  any  rate  showed  no  very 
active  hostility.  "A  Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon,"  again, 
was  produced  under  Macready's  management  at 
Drury  Lane  theatre,  with  Phelps,  a  sound  if  unin- 
spired actor,  in  the  part  of  Treshani.  Certainly 
this  play  was  given  under  depressing  circumstances, 


258  BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

;it  the  end  of  an  unsuccessful  season,  and  Browning 
accused  Macready  of  a  lack  of  frankness  in  not 
telling  him  that  the  time  was  unpropitious  and 
asking  him  to  withdraw  the  piece.  It  would  have 
been  better,  no  doubt,  had  Macready  done  so;  but 
we  can  see  pretty  plainly  that,  had  the  actor- 
manager  been  really  candid,  he  would  not  have  told 
the  poet  that  the  time  wras  unpropitious,  but  that  the 
play  was  impossible.  If  he  had  entertained  any 
hopes  of  it,  Macready  would  assuredly  not  have  had 
it  read  to  the  company  by  a  "  ludicrously  incapable 
person  "  who  made  it  absurd — the  "  red-nosed,  one- 
Legged,  elderly  prompter"  of  whom  Browning  com- 
plained— nor  would  he  have  suffered  anyone  but 
himself  to  appear  in  the  leading  character. 
"  Colombe's  Birthday  "  was  produced  at  the  Hay- 
market  with  Helen  Faucit  as  the  heroine  ;  and 
though  we  hear  nothing:  of  a  wooden-legged 
prompter  in  this  instance,  we  do  not  find  that  the 
result  was  much  more  satisfactory.  "  The  Blot  in 
the  'Scutcheon  "  was  afterwards  revived  by  Phelps 
at  Sadlers  Wells  Theatre,  and  by  Laurence  Barrett, 
a  popular  actor,  in  America,  in  neither  case  with 
any  considerable  acceptance;  and  here  end,  up  to 
the  present,  Browning's  relations  with  the  regular 
stage.  Other  performances  of  his  plays  have  been 
given — perhaps  are  still  occasionally  given — by 
societies  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  but  such 
performances  are  designed  to  appeal  merely  to 
chosen  audiences. 

What  is  the  reason,  then,  why  this  great  poet,  this 
student  and  analyst  of  human  nature,  this  man  who 
thought   himself    specially   endowed    with  dramatic 


BROWNING    AS    A     DRAMATIST.  259 

faculty,  was  constantly  repulsed  in  his  efforts  to 
conquer  the  actual  stage?  It  is  easy  to  say  the 
stage  was  not  worthy  of  him,  but  that  can  scarcely 
he  held  a  sufficient  account  of  the  matter.  His 
plays  have  been  in  existence  now  from  sixty  to 
seventy  years ;  can  we  suppose  that  at  no  time 
during  that  period  has  there  been  in  England  or 
America  any  actor  or  company  of  actors  capable 
of  doing  justice  to  his  conceptions?  And  even  if 
we  admit  this  sweeping  assumption,  there  is  the 
rest  of  the  world  to  be  accounted  for.  There  have 
been  great  actors  in  France,  Germany,  and  Italy ; 
and  in  the  two  former  countries,  at  any  rate,  there 
have  been,  and  are,  splendid  theatrical  organizations. 
How  comes  it  that  no  play  of  Browning's  has  made, 
so  far  as  I  am  aware,  one  single  appearance  on  the 
continent  of  Europe  ?  The  French,  you  may  say, 
are  always  slow  to  recognize  merit  outside  their  own 
country,  but  not  so  the  Germans.  They  have  made 
Shakespeare  the  third  person,  with  Goethe  and 
Schiller,  in  their  dramatic  trinity.  How  comes  it 
^  that  they  have  utterly  ignored  the  dramatist  who, 
according  to  some  critics,  stands  second  only  to 
Shakespeare  in  English  literature  ?  We  must  con- 
clude, I  think,  that  if  the  theatre  is  unworthy  of 
Browning,  it  is  not  the  English  theatre  alone,  but 
the  theatre  as  a  whole,  the  theatre  as  an  institution, 
the  very  nature  and  essence  of  the  theatre. 

And  that,  1  suggest,  is  substantially  the  fact : 
Browning's  plays  are  foreign  to  the  very  nature 
and  essence  of  theatrical  art.  And  why  ?  The 
reasons  are  manifold,  but  they  fall  under  two  lieu  Is 
— technical    and    psychological.      Browning    never 


-<)<>  BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

realized  the  conditions  of  the  medium  in  which  he 
worked  ;  and  bis  method  of  analysis,  of  unpacking 
the  human  heart  with  words,  was  wholly  unadapted 
to  the  apprehension  of  a  theatrical  audience. 

He  would  be  a  rash  dogmatist  who  should,  in 
these  days,  assert  that  the  playwright  must  always 
tell  a  story,  though  I  am  old-fashioned  enough  to 
think  that  a  drama  is  none  the  worse  for  containing 
one.  We  have  seen  plays,  and  occasionally  sucess- 
ful  plays,  that  are  as  storyless  as  Canning's  knife- 
grinder.  But  Browning  did  not  anticipate  this 
latter-day  development.  His  plays  have  stories, 
only  he  omitted  to  set  them  forth  in  a  form  and  in 
terms  that  made  them  clear,  effective,  comprehen- 
sible. It  seems  a  canon  of  mere  common-sense 
that,  if  you  are  going  to  tell  a  story,  you  ought  to 
make  it  intelligible  and  not  leave  your  -audience 
groping  around  for  it.  Of  the  art  of  exposition, 
of  letting  the  audience  clearly  understand  the  con- 
dition of  affairs  from  which  the  drama  takes  its 
rise,  Browning  did  not  dream.  His  method  is  to 
show  us  a  number  of  characters  elaborately  exca- 
vating the  situation,  so  to  speak — digging  into  it, 
and  probing  its  intricacies  in  copious  orations — 
before  we  have  any  idea  what  that  situation  is. 
He  disdains  to  put  himself  for  a  single  moment  at 
the  spectator's  point  of  view  and  to  consider  what 
that  hapless  person  must  know  and  understand  if 
he  is  to  follow  the  mental  processes  of  the  characters. 
It  may  be  said  that  he  does  tell  a  story  in  the  only 
truly  artistic  way — not  by  formal  exposition,  but  by 
hints  and  allusions  occurring  naturally  in  the  dialogue. 
Be  it  so ;  but,  as  a  matter  of  plain  experience,  these 


BROWNING    AS    A     DRAMATIST.  261 

hints   and   allusions  are  not  sufficiently  explicit    fco 
convev   the   necessary    information   to   a   theatrical 
audience.      This  any  reader   can    test    for  himself, 
even  if  he  has  never  happened  to  witness  a  Browning 
production.     Let  him  take  any  play  he  pleases  and 
begin  to  read  it.    For  a  few  lines,  perhaps  for  a  page 
or  so,  all  may  go  swimmingly  ;  but  presently  he  will 
find  himself  reading  a  speech  without  full  compre- 
hension, and  will  have  to  start  upon  it  afresh.      On  a 
second  reading  he  may,  with  good   luck,  grasp  its 
meaning  and  application  ;  but  a  little  further  on  he 
will  come  to  another  speech  which  it  will  take  three 
careful  readings  to  master,  and  which,  even  when  its 
immediate  sense  is  plain  to  him,  he  has  great  diffi- 
culty in  fitting  into  its  place  in  any  dramatic  develop- 
ment.    Now,  re-reading  and  leisurely  cogitation  are 
impossible    in    the  theatre.     The  spectators  cannot 
request  the  actor  to  speak  such  and  such  a  speech 
again  and  give  them  time  to  think  it  over.  A  passage 
not    taken    in    at    once    is    never  taken   in,   and    a 
sequence   of   such   passages  very  quickly  bewilders 
and    bores   an  audience.       I  think  even  those   who 
are  most  convinced  of  Browning's  dramatic  genius 
must  admit,  if  they  be  candid,  that  their   compre- 
hension and  appreciation  of  his  plays  have  resulted 
from   far    closer    and   more    intense    study  than    is 
possible  to   any  audience  in  any  theatre.      There  is 
a  limit  to  the  nimbleness  of  wit  that  can  be  demanded 
even  of  the  ideal  spectator  ;  and  a  man  who  counts 
on  a  theatreful  of  ideal  spectators  thereby  proclaims 
himself  no  dramatist. 

At  the  risk  of  appearing  to  dwell  on  mechanical 
trifles,  I  must   add  thai    Browning   seems   never   to 


262  BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

have  visualized  the  material  stage  or  considered 
the  limitations  of  flesh -and-blood  actors  in  com- 
porting themselves  upon  it.  His  characters  might 
be  disembodied  intelligences  for  all  the  heed  they 
pay  to  physical  and  visual  plausibility.  I  will  take 
a  small  instance  from  what  is  doubtless  Browninar's 
nearest  approach  to  an  actable  drama,  "  The  Blot 
in  the  'Scutcheon."  In  the  second  act,  after 
Mildred's  avowal  to  Tresham  and  his  denunciation 
of  her,  she  falls  down  fainting  as  he  rushes  from  the 
stage.  Her  other  brother,  Austin,  is  about  to  leave 
her  in  this  condition  when  his  betrothed,  Gruendolen, 
interposes  with  a  speech  of  remonstrance  thirty- 
eight  lines  long  and  all  of  it,  grammatically,  a  single 
sentence.     Let  me  try  to  read  the  passage  : 

Austin  :   Stay,  Tresham,  we'll  accompany  you  ! 

Guendolen  :  We  ? 

What,  and  leave  Mildred?    We  ?   Why,  where's  my  place 
But  by  her  side,  and  where  yours  but  by  mine  ? 
Mildred — one  word  !      Only  look  at  me,  then  ! 

A  nsf  in  :  No,  Gruendolen  !      I  echo  Thorold's  voice. 
She  is  unworthy  to  behold 

Gwendolen  :  •  Us  two  '.' 

If  you  spoke  on  reflection,  and  if  I 
Approved  your  speech — if  you  (to  put  the  thing 
At  lowest)  you  the  soldier,  bound  to  make 
The  king's  cause  yours  and  tight  for  it,  and  throw 
Regard  to  others  of  its  right  or  wrong, 
— If  with  a  death-white  woman  you  can  help, 
Let  alone  sister,  let  alone  a  Mildred, 
Vnu  left  her — or  if  I,  her  cousin,  friend 
This  morning,  playfellow  but  yesterday, 
Who  said,  or  thought  at  least  a  thousand  times, 
"  I'd  seiwe  you  if  1  could,"  should  no.w  face  round 


BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST.  263 

And  say,  "  Ah,  that's  to  only  signify 

"  I'd  serve  you  while  you're  tit  to  serve  yourself  : 

"  So  long  as  fifty  eyes  await  the  turn 

"  Of  yours  to  forestall  its  yet  half-formed  wish, 

"I'd  proffer  my  assistance  you'll  not  need — 

"  When  every  tongue  is  praising  you,  I'll  join 

"  The  praisers'  chorus — when  you're  hemmed  about 

"With  lives  between  you  and  detraction — lives 

"To  be  laid  down  if  a  rude  voice,  rash  eye, 

"Rough  hand  should  violate  the  sacred  ring 

"  Their  worship  throws  about  you, — then  indeed, 

"  Who'll  stand  up  for  you  stout  as  I  ?  "     If  so 

We  said,  and  so  we  did, — not  Mildred  there 

Would  be  unworthy  to  behold  us  both, 

But  we  should  be  unworthy,  both  of  us, 

To  be  beheld  by — by — your  meanest  dog, 

Which,  if  that  sword  were  broken  in  your  face 

Before  a  crowd,  that  badge  torn  off  your  breast, 

And  you  cast  out  with  hooting  and  contempt, 

— Would  push  his  way  thro'  all  the  hooters,  gain 

Your  side,  go  off  with  you  and  all  your  shame 

To  the  next  ditch  you  choose  to  die  in  !     Austin, 

Do  you  love  me  ?     Here's  Austin,  Mildred, — here's 

Your  brother  says  he  does  not  believe  half — 

No,  nor  half  that — of  all  he  heard  !     He  says, 

Look  up  and  take  his  hand  ! 

Austin  :  Look  up  and  take 

My  hand,  dear  Mildred  ! 

Mildred  :  I— I  was  so  young  ! 

Beside,  1  loved  him,  Thorold — and  I  had 
No  mother;  God  forgot  me:   so,  I  fell. 

Now,  just  conceive  the  situation.  Poor  Mildred  is 
stretched  senseless  upon  the  tioor,  and  Gwendolen,  who 
is  supposed  to  be  full  of  sympathy  for  the  unhappy 
girl,  shows  that  feeling,  not  by  instantly  tending 
her  and  seeking  to  restore  her,  but  by  pouring  forth 


264  BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

thirty-eight  lines  of  ornate  eloquence  conveying  the 
simple  idea,  "  If  you  desert  her,  may  your  meanest 
dog  Likewise  desert  you  at  your  sorest  need."  That 
is  the  whole  substance  of  the  tirade.  It  does  not 
gain,  but  loses,  in  psychological  truth  by  being 
monstrously  inflated ;  and  as  for  dramatic  effect,  it 
keeps  the  audience  wondering  all  the  time,  "  When 
is  the  woman  going  to  attend  to  her  unfortunate 
cousin  ?  Surely  a  glass  of  water  would  be  more  to 
the  purpose  than  a  cataract  of  words." 

Drama  was,  in  Browning's  eyes,  essentially  a 
matter  of  words;  and  words  to  him  meant,  not  con- 
versations, but  orations.  Take  the  fourth  act  of 
"  Luria."  It  opens,  indeed,  with  what  may,  at  a 
pinch,  be  called  a  conversation  between  Puccio  and 
Jacopo,  though  the  average  length  of  the  speeches 
is  more  than  ten  lines.  But  of  what  does  the  rest 
of  the  act  consist  ?  Practically  of  three  speeches. 
First,  Husain  addresses  Luria  in  an  allocution  of 
about  eighty-five  lines,  Luria  only  interjecting  two 
or  three  phrases  (twenty-three  words  in  all)  ;  then 
Domizia  comes  forward  and  delivers  a  harangue  of 
sixty  lines,  Luria  remaining  as  mute  as  a  mackerel ; 
and  finally  Luria  lets  himself  go  in  a  soliloquy  of 
eighty  lines,  which  are  not,  however,  sufficient  to 
explain  to  us  why  he  takes  poison  at  the  end  of 
them.  That  you  may  judge  what  these  figures 
mean — these  speeches  of  sixty,  eighty,  and  eighty- 
five  lines — I  may  remind  you  that  Hamlet's  "  To  be 
or  not  to  be  "  soliloquy  contains  only  thirty-three 
lines,  while  the  soliloquy  beginning,  "  0,  what  a 
rogue  and  peasant  slave  am  1  !  " — an  exceptionally 
loner  one — runs  to  about  fiftv-five  lines. 


BROWNING    AS    A     DRAMATIST.  265 

One  last  example  of  Browning's  contempt  for  the 
physical  conditions  of  the  actual  stage.  In  the 
second  act  of  "  The  Return  of  the  Druses,"  from  the 
point  where  Djabal  enters  and  finds  Anael  and 
Maani  on  the  stage  up  to  the  end  of  the  act,  there 
are  in  all  about  a  liundred-and-thirty  lines,  and  of 
these,  eighty-eight  lines — two  thirds — are  spoken 
"  aside  "  !  The  drama,  even  in  poetic  form,  ought 
to  give  us  some  sort  of  credible  presentment  of 
human  intercourse,  and  how  can  we  picture  a  con- 
versation in  which  each  of  the  interlocutors  in  turn 
stands  and  does  nothing  while  the  other  is  address- 
ing himself  in  copious  analytic  periods !  One  of 
Anael's  asides  runs  to  seventeen  lines;  and  Djabel, 
not  to  be  outdone,  instantly  caps  it  with  thirty - 
seven  lines  of  introspection.  What  author  who  had 
any  mental  vision  of  actors  on  a  stage  could  possibly 
write  such  a  scene?  And  yet  it  was  this  very  play 
that  Browning  offered  to  Henry  Irving  for  produc- 
tion in  the  brilliant  days  of  Irving' s  management  of 
the  Lyceum  Theatre.  My  friend  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse 
tells  me  that,  calling  upon  Browning  one  morning 
in  the  spring  of  1881,  Browning  said  to  him,  "  What 
do  you  think  ?  I  had  a  letter  from  Irving  yesterday 
asking  me  to  write  him  a  play  in  verse,  like  Tenny- 
son's." A  play  of  Tennyson's  was  then  running  at 
the  Lyceum.  Mr.  Gosse  replied,  "  Well,  and  I  hope 
yon  will  agree  to  do  it.  What  have  yon  said  to 
him?"  "I  have  just  answered  his  letter."  said 
Browning,"  and  I  have  told  him  that  it  is  \vv\  kind 
of  him,  very  civil  and  all  that,  but  that  if  he  wants  to 
acta  play  of  mine  there  is  '  The  Return  of  t  he  Druses' 
ready  waiting  Tor   him."     One  may   marvel  at   the 


266  BROWNING    AS    A    DRAMATIST. 

blindness  of  Browning  in  making  the  suggestion; 
t  hat  Irving  failed  to  respond  to  it  causes  less  surprise. 
1  pass,  in  conclusion,  to  the  second,  the  psycho- 
logical, reason  for  the  failure  of  Browning's 
theatrical  ambitions.  It  is,  I  suggest,  that  Iris  whole 
method  of  analysis  is  discursive  and  not  really 
dramatic.  He  had  a  genius  for  conjectural  digging 
into  people's  souls,  but  no  talent,  or  next  to  none, 
for  making  his  people  express  themselves  charac- 
teristically. It  is  never  the  imaginary  personage 
that  speaks,  but  always  Robert  Browning  imagining 
himself  into  the  imaginary  personage's  skin,  and 
endowing  him  with  his — Robert  Browning's— 
subtlety  and  celerity  of  thought,  his  fertile  casuistry, 
his  intricate  volubility.  It  may  be  said  that  every 
dramatic  poet  has  a  manner,  and  transfers  it,  in 
some  degree,  to  his  characters.  It  is  true  that 
Shakespeare  always  writes  like  Shakespeare  ;  but  it 
is  not  true  that  Hamlet  speaks  like  Othello,  or  Shylock 
like  Richard  II,  or  Lady  Macbeth  like  Cleopatra.  To 
say  that  all  Browning's  characters  talk  alike  would  of 
course  be  an  exaggeration  ;  but  it  is  no  exaggeration 
to  say  that  they  constantly  tend  to  fall  into  that 
method  of  serpentine  discursiveness  which  we  know 
so  well  from  "  The  Ring  and  the  Book,"  and  from 
such  masterly  monologues  as  "  Fra  Lippo  Lippi," 
"  Andrea  del  Sarto,"  "Bishop  Blougram's  Apology," 
and  "Mr.  Sludge,  'The  Medium.'"  The  last- 
named  wonderful  piece  of  work  affords  a  good 
example  of  what  I  mean  when  I  speak  of  Brown- 
ing's lack  of  true  impersonative  power.  There  is. 
indeed,  a  constant  effort  to  keep  within  the  Medium's 
vocabulary  and   mental  range  ;  but  the  effort  con- 


BROWNING    AS    A     DRAMATIST.  26< 

stantly  and  conspicuously  fails.  The  poet,  in  spite 
of  himself,  give  Sludge  his  own  learning,  his  own 
fertility  of  illustration,  his  own  suppleness  of  mind. 
his  own  ironic  insight  into  human  nature,  his  own — I 
say  it  with  all  reverence — his  own  verbosity.  The 
mind  portrayed  in  the  fifteenor  sixteen  hundred  close- 
packed  lines  is  a  rich,  powerful,  wonderful  mind- 
not  for  a  moment  conceivable  as  belonging  to  Sludge 
the  Medium.  We  see  Robert  Browning  thinking  of 
Sludge  and  patiently  trying  to  worm  himself  into 
the  heart  of  his  mystery ;  and  this  description, 
I  suggest,  applies  more  or  less  to  all  Browning's 
dramatic  work.  His  characters  do  not  speak  and 
act  from  their  own  inward  spontaneous  impulse. 
They  are  mere  mouthpieces  for  the  poet  who  is 
labouring,  reflectively  rather  than  dramatically,  to 
expound  their  emotions  or  to  wring  the  last  drop  of 
casuistic  implication  from  the  situations  in  which  he 
has  placed  them.  His  favourite  expression  "  Put 
case  "  is  very  significant.  His  characters  are  always 
putting  cases  and  arguing  things  out  from  half-a- 
dozen  hypothetic  points  of  view. 

And  if  the  considerations  already  advanced  were 
not  sufficient  to  account  for  Browning's  failure  to 
take,  or  hold,  a  place  among  acted  dramatists,  it 
would  be  easy,  I  fancy,  to  show  that  his  plots,  apart 
from  the  manner  of  their  narration,  were  apt  to  be 
conducted  without  any  reasonable  care  for  proba- 
bility. For  instance,  the  tragic  end  of  "  The  Blot 
in  the  'Scutcheon"  is  due  to  two  wholly  incredible 
circumstances.  It  is  sheer  madness  on  Mildred's 
part  to  tell  her  brother  that  she  is  willing  to  marry 
Mertoun   without  at  the  same  time  telling  him  that 


268  BROWNING    AS    A     DRAMATIST. 

Mertoun  is  her  paramour.  It  is  this  apparent  depth 
of  baseness  on  her  part  that  exasperates  Treshamto 
a  state  of  frenzy,  and  there  is  no  sense  in  her  leaving 

him  under  the  intolerable  illusion.  Again,  it  is 
madness  of  Mildred,  knowing  that  the  intrigue  is 
discovered,  to  give  the  signal  which  summons 
Mertoun  to  her  chamber.  Had  she  desired  to  pre- 
cipitate the  tragedy,  this  was  the  surest  way  to  accom- 
plishment. Such  flaws  in  the  conduct  of  the  fable, 
if  they  were  plainly  perceived,  would  alienate  the 
least  critical  audience.  But  I  do  not  think  it 
necessary  to  look  into  the  texture  of  Browning's 
stories,  for  I  believe  his  style  of  telling  them  to  be 
so  unsuited  to  theatrical  conditions  that  their  matter 
never  comes  home  to  an  audience  at  all — at  any 
rate,  not  with  sufficient  clearness  to  arouse  positive 
assent  or  dissent.  This  great  poet,  in  short,  speaks 
a  language  foreign  to  the  theatre ;  and  people  are 
not  disposed  to  be  critical  of  a  story  which  is  told 
them  in  an  unknown  tongue. 

To  sum  up,  there  is  a  delusion  common  among 
poets  that  because  they  are  poets— because  they 
possess  the  poetic  gift — it  follows  that  they  are 
capable  of  writing  poetic  drama.  No  greater 
delusion  exists;  and  it  was  from  this  delusion  that 
Browning  suffered. 


THE    NOVEL    IX    'THE    RING    AND    THE 
BOOK.' 

BY    HENRI    JAMES,    D.LITT. 

If  on  such  an  occasion  as  this — even  with  our 
natural  impulse  to  shake  ourselves  free  of  reserves 
— some  sharp  choice  between  the  dozen  different 
aspects  of  one  of  the  most  copious  of  our  poets 
becomes  a  prime  necessity,  though  remaining  at  the 
same  time  a  great  difficulty,  so  in  respect  to  the 
most  voluminous  of  his  works  the  admirer  is 
promptly  held  up,  as  Ave  have  come  to  call  it ;  finds 
himself  almost  baffled  by  alternatives.  '  The  Ring 
and  the  Book '  is  so  vast  and  so  essentially  Grothic  a 
structure,  spreading  and  soaring  and  branching  at 
such  a  rate,  covering  such  ground,  putting  forth 
such  pinnacles  and  towers  and  brave  excrescences, 
planting  its  transepts  and  chapels  and  porticos,  its 
clustered  hugeness  or  inordinate  muchness  (to  put  t  lie 
effect  at  once  most  plainly  and  most  expressively), 
that  with  any  first  approach  we  but  walk  vaguely 
and  slowly,  rather  bewilderedly,  round  and  round  it, 
wondering  at  what  point  we  had  best  attempt  such 
entrance  as  will  save  our  steps  and  light  our 
uncertainty — most  enable  us,  in  a  word,  to  reach  our 
personal  chair,  our  indicated  chapel  or  shrine,  when 
once  within.  For  it  is  to  be  "'ranted  that  to  this 
inner  view  the  likeness  of  the  literary  monument  to 

vui,.   xxxi.  20 


27<>        THE    NOVEL    IX   c  THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.' 

one  of  the  great  religious  gives  way  a  little,  sustains 
itself  less  than  in  the  first,  the  affronting  mass; 
unless  we  simply  figure  ourselves,  under  the  great 
roof,  looking  about  us  through  a  splendid  thickness 
and  dimness  of  air,  an  accumulation  of  spiritual 
presences  or  unprofaned  mysteries,  that  makes 
our  impression  heavily  general — general  only — and 
leaves  us  helpless  for  reporting  on  particulars. 
The  particulars  for  our  purpose  have  thus  their 
identity  much  rather  in  certain  features  of  the 
twenty  faces — either  of  one  or  of  another  of  these 
— that  the  structure  turns  to  the  outer  day,  and  that 
we  can,  as  it  were,  sit  down  before  and  consider  at 
our  comparative  ease.  I  say  "comparative"  ad- 
visedly, for  I  cling  to  the  dear  old  tradition  that 
Browning  is  "  difficult" — which  we  were  all  brought 
up  on,  and  which  I  think  we  should,  especially  on  a 
rich  retrospective  day  like  this,  with  the  atmo- 
sphere of  his  great  career  settling  upon  us  as  much 
as  possible,  feel  it  a  shock  to  see  break  down  in  too 
many  places  at  once.  Selecting  my  ground,  by 
your  kind  invitation,  for  sticking  in  and  planting 
before  you,  to  flourish  so  far  as  it  shall,  my  little 
sprig  of  bay,  I  have  of  course  tried  to  measure  the 
quantity  of  ease  with  which  our  material  may  on 
that  noted  spot  allow  itself  to  be  treated.  There 
are  innumerable  things  in  '  The  Ring  and  the  Book  ' 
— as  the  comprehensive  image  I  began  with  makes  it 
needless  I  should  say ;  and  I  have  been  above  all 
appealed  to  by  the  possibility  that  one  of  these, 
pursued  for  a  while  through  the  labyrinth,  but  at 
last  overtaken  and  then  more  or  less  confessing  its 
identity,  might  have  yielded  up  its  best  essence  (as 


THE   NOVEL    IN    'THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.'        271 

a  grateful  theme,  of  course  I  mean)  under  sonic 
fine  strong  economy  of  prose  treatment.  So  here 
you  have  me  talking  at  once  of  prose  and  seeking 
that  connection  to  help  out  my  case. 

From  far  back,  from  my  first  reading  of  these 
volumes,  which  took  place  at  the  time  of  their  dis- 
closure to  the  world,  when  I  was  a  fairly  young 
person,  the  sense,  almost  the  pang,  of  the  novel  the\ 
might  have  constituted,  sprang  sharply  from  them  ; 
so  that  I  was  to  go  on  through  the  years  almost 
irreverent!)',  all  but  quite  profanely,  if  you  will, 
thinking  of  the  great  loose  and  uncontrolled  composi- 
tion, the  great  heavy-hanging  cluster  of  related  bu1 
unreconciled  parts,  as  a  fiction  of  the  so-called  his- 
toric type,  that  is  as  a  suggested  study  of  the 
manners  and  conditions  from  which  our  own  hav< 
more  or  less  traceably  issued,  just  tragically  spoiled 
— or  as  a  work  of  art,  in  other  words,  smothered  in 
the  producing.  To  which  I  hasten  to  add  my  con- 
sciousness of  the  scant  degree  in  which  such  a  fresh 
start  from  our  author's  documents,  such  a  re-projec- 
tion of  them,  wonderful  documents  as  they  can  only 
have  been,  may  claim  a  critical  basis.  Conceive  me 
as  simply  astride  of  my  different  fancy,  my  other 
dream,  of  the  matte]' — which  bolted  with  me,  as  1 
have  said,  at  the  first  alarm.  Browning  worked,  in 
this  connection,  literally  upon  documents;  no  page 
of  his  long  story  is  more  vivid  and  splendid  than  that 
of  his  find  of  the  Book  in  the  litter  of  a  market-stall 
in  Florence,  and  the  swoop  of  practised  perception 
with  which  he  caught  up  in  it  a  treasure.  Here  was 
a  subject  stated  to  the  last  ounce  of  its  weight,  a 
living    and    breathing   record   of    facts    pitiful    and 


272        THE   NOVEL    IX    'THE    RING    AJND   THE    BOOK. 

terrible,  a  mass  of  matter  bristling  with  revelations, 
and  yet  at  the  same  time  wrapped  over  with  layer 
upon  layer  of  contemporary  appreciation;  which 
appreciation,  in  its  turn,  was  a  part  of  the  wealth  to 
be  appreciated.  What  our  great  master  saw  was  his 
situation  founded,  seated  there  in  positively  packed 
and  congested  significance,  though  by  jnst  so  mnch 
as  it  was  charged  wTith  meanings  and  values  were 
those  things  undeveloped  and  unexpressed.  They 
looked  up  at  him,  even  at  that  first  flush  and  from 
their  market-stall,  and  said  to  him,  in  their  com- 
pressed compass,  as  with  the  muffled  rumble  of  a 
slow-coming  earthquake,  "  Express  us,  express  us, 
immortalise  us  as  we'll  immortalise  you  !  "■ — so  that 
the  terms  of  the  understanding  were  so  far  cogent 
and  clear.  It  was  an  understanding,  on  their  side, 
with  the  Poet;  and,  since  that  Poet  had  produced 
"  Men  and  Women,"  "  Dramatic  Lyrics,"  "  Dramatis 
Personae  "  and  sundry  plays — we  needn't  even  foist 
on  him  "  Sordello  " — he  could  but  understand  in  his 
own  way.  That  way  would  have  had  to  be  quite  some 
other,  we  fully  see,  had  he  been  by  habit  and  profes- 
sion not  just  the  lyric,  epic,  dramatic  commentator, 
the  extractor,  to  whatever  essential  potency  and 
redundancy,  of  the  moral  of  the  fable,  but  the  very 
fabulist  himself,  the  inventor  and  projector,  layer 
down  of  the  postulate  and  digger  of  the  foundation. 
I  doubt  if  we  have  a  precedent  for  this  energy  of 
appropriation  of  a  deposit  of  stated  matter,  a  block 
of  sense  already  in  position  and  requiring  not  to  be 
shaped  and  squared  and  caused  any  further  to 
solidify,  but  rather  to  suffer  disintegration,  be  pulled 
apart,  melted  down,  hammered,  by  the  most  charac- 


THE  NOVEL  IX  'THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.'    27o 

teristic  of  the  poet's  processes,  to  powder — dust  of 
gold  and  silver  let  us  say.  He  was  to  apply  to  it 
his  favourite  system — that  of  looking  at  his  subject 
from  the  point  of  view  of  a  sort  of  sublime  curiosity, 
and  of  smuggling  as  many  more  points  of  view 
together  into  that  one  as  the  fancy  might  take  him 
to  smuggle — on  a  scale  on  which  even  he  had  never 
before  applied  it ;  this  with  a  courage  and  confide ic< 
that,  in  presence  of  all  the  conditions,  conditions 
many  of  them  arduous  and  arid  and  thankless  even 
to  defiance,  we  can  only  pronounce  splendid,  and  of 
which  the  issue  was  to  be  of  a  proportioned  monstrous 
magnificence. 

The  one  definite  forecast  for  this  product  would 
have  been  that  it  should  figure  for  its  producer  as  a 
poem — as  if  he  had  simply  said,  "  I  embark  at  any 
rate  for  the  Golden  Isles  "  ;  everything  else  was  of 
the  pure  incalculable,  the  frank  voyage  of  adventure. 
To  what  extent  the  Golden  Isles  were  in  fact  to  be 
reached  is  a  matter  we  needn't  pretend,  I  think, 
absolutely  to  determine;  let  us  feel  for  ourselves 
and  as  we  will  about  it — either  see  our  adventurer, 
disembarked  bag  and  baggage  and  in  possession, 
plant  his  flag  on  the  highest  eminence  within  his 
ring  of  sea,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  but  watch  him 
approach  and  beat  back  a  little,  tack  and  circle  and 
stand  off,  always  fairly  in  sight  of  land,  catching 
rare  glimpses  and  meeting  strange  airs,  but  not 
quite  achieving  the  final  coup  that  annexes  the 
group.  He  returns  to  us  under  either  view  all 
scented  and  salted  with  his  measure  of  contact,  and 
that  for  the  moment  is  enough  for  us  ;  more  than 
enough    for    me,    at    any    rate,    engaged,    for    your 


274-       THE   NOVEL    IN    '  THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.' 

beguilement,  in  this  practical  relation  of  snuffing  up 
what  lie  brings.     He  brings,  anyhow  one  puts  it,  a 
detailed    report,  which    is   but   another   word   for  a 
story;  and   it   is    with   his  story,  his  offered,  not  his 
borrowed  one — a  very  different  matter — that   T   am 
concerned.      We  are   probably  most  of  us  so  aware 
of  its  general  content  that   if   I  sum  this  up  I  may 
do  so  briefly.     The  book  of  the  Florentine  rubbish- 
heap    is    the    full    account    (as    full   accounts    were 
conceived    in    those   days)    of    the   trial  before   the 
Roman  courts,  with  inquiries  and  judgments  by  the 
Tuscan  authorities  intermixed,  of  a   certain   Count 
G-uido  Franceschini  of  Arezzo — decapitated,  in  com- 
pany with  four  confederates,  these  latter  hanged,  on 
the  "22nd  of  February,  1698,  for  the  murder  of  his 
young   wife,  Pompilia  Comparing  and   her  adopted 
parents,  Pietro  and  Violante  of  that  ilk.      The  cir- 
cumstances leading  to  this  climax  had  been  primarily 
his   marriage    to    Pompilia,   some    years    before,   in 
Rome,  she   being  then  but   in   her  thirteenth  year, 
under  the  impression,  fostered  in  him   by  the  elder 
pair,  that  she  was  their  own  child  and  on  this  head 
heiress  to  moneys  settled  on  them  from  of  old  in  the 
event  of  their  having  a  child.    They  had  in  fact  had 
none,  and  had,  in  substitution,  invented,  so  to  speak, 
Pompilia,  the  luckless  base-born  baby  of  a  woman 
of  lamentable  character  easily  induced  to  part  with 
her  for  cash.      The}T  bring  up  the  hapless  creature 
as  their  daughter,  and  as  their  daughter  they  marry 
her,  in  Rome,  to  the  middle-aged  and  impecunious 
Count  G-uido,  a  rapacious  and  unscrupulous  fortune- 
seeker,  by  whose  superior  social  position,  as  we  say, 
dreadfully  decaduto  thong-h  he  be,  they  are  dazzled 


THE  NOVEL  IN  '  THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.'    l!75 

out  of  all  circumspection.  The  girl,  innocent,  igno- 
rant, bewildered  and  scared,  is  purely  passive,  is 
taken  home  by  her  husband  to  Arezzo,  where  she  is 
at  first  attended  by  Pietro  and  Violante,  and  where 
the  direst  disappointments  await  the  three.  Count 
Gruido  proves  the  basest  of  men  and  his  home  a 
place  of  terror  and  of  torture,  from  which,  at  the 
acre  of  seventeen,  and  shortly  prior  to  her  giving 
birth  to  an  heir  to  the  house,  such  as  it  is,  she  is 
rescued  by  a  pitying  witness  of  her  misery,  Canon 
Caponsacchi,  a  man  of  the  world  and  adorning  it, 
yet  in  holy  orders,  as  men  of  the  world  in  Italy 
might  then  be,  who  clandestinely  helps  her,  at  peril 
of  both  their  lives,  back  to  Rome,  and  of  whom  it  is 
attested  that  he  has  had  no  other  relation  with  her 
but  this  of  distinguished  and  all-disinterested  friend 
in  need.  The  pretended  parents  have  at  an  early 
stage  thrown  up  their  benighted  game,  fleeing  from 
the  rigour  of  their  dupe's  domestic  ride,  disclosing 
to  him  vindictively  the  part  they  have  played  and 
the  consequent  failure  of  any  profit  to  him  through 
his  wife,  and  leaving  him  in  turn  to  wreak  his  spite, 
which  has  become  infernal,  on  the  wretched  Pompilia. 
He  pursues  her  to  Rome  on  her  eventual  flight,  and 
overtakes  her,  with  her  companion,  just  outside  the 
gates  ;  but  having,  by  the  aid  of  the  authorities, 
re-achieved  possession  of  her,  he  contents  himself 
for  the  time  witli  procuring  her  sequestration  in  a 
convent,  from  which,  however,  she  is  presently 
allowed  to  emerge  in  view  of  the  near  birth  of  her 
child.  She  rejoins  Pietro  and  Violante,  devoted  to 
her,  oddly  enough,  through  all  their  folly  and  fatuity, 
and  under  their  roof,  in  a  lonely  Roman  suburb,  her 


i2,<>      Till'.  NOVEL  IN  'the  ring  and  the  book. 

child   comes  into   the  world.     Her  husband  mean- 
while, hearing  of  her  release,  gives  way  afresh  to 
the  fury  that  had   not  at  the  climax   of   his  former 
pursuit  taken  full  effect ;  he  recruits  a  band  of  four 
of  his   vouno'  tenants  or  farm-labourers,  and  makes 
his  way.  armed,  like  his  companions,  with  knives,  to 
the  door  behind  which  three  of  the  parties  to  all  the 
wrong  done  him,  as  he  holds,  then   lurk.     He  pro- 
nounces, after  knocking  and  waiting,  the  name  of 
Caponsacchi,  upon  which,  as  the  door  opens,  Violante 
presents   herself.      He    stabs   her  to   death,   on  the 
spot,  with  repeated  blows  ;  like  her  companions  she 
is  off  her  guard,  and  he  throws  himself  on   each  of 
these  with  equally  murderous  effect.    Pietro,  crying 
for  mercy,  falls  second  beneath  him;  after  which  he 
attacks  his  wife,  whom  he  literally  hacks  to  death. 
She  survives,  by  a  miracle,  long  enough,  in  spite  of 
all  her  wounds,  to  testify;  which  testimony,  as  may 
be  imagined,  is  not  the  least  precious  part  of  the 
case.     Justice   is  on  the  whole,  though   deprecated 
and   delayed,   what    we   call   satisfactory :    the   last 
word    is    for   the   Pope    in    person,   Innocent   XII, 
Pignatelli,  at  whose  deliberation,  lone  and  supreme, 
on  Browning's  page,  we  splendidly  assist,  and  Count 
G-uido  and  his  accomplices,  bloodless  as  to  the  act 
though    these    appear    to    have    been,   meet    their 
discriminated  doom. 

That  is  the  bundle  of  facts,  accompanied  with  the 
bundle  of  proceedings,  legal,  ecclesiastical,  diplo- 
matic and  other,  on  the  facts,  that  our  author,  of  a 
summer's  day,  made  prize  of ;  but  our  general 
temptation,  as  I  say — out  of  which  springs  this 
question  of  the  other  values  of  character  and  effect, 


THE  NOVEL  IN  '  THE  KING  AND  THE  BOOK.'    277 

the  other  completeness   of  picture  and  drama,  that 
the  confused  whole  might  have  had  for  us — is  a  dis- 
tinctly different  thing.     The  difference  consists,  you 
see,  to  begin  with,  in  the  very  breath  of  our  Poet's 
genius,  already,  and  so  inordinately,  at  play  on  them 
from  the  first  of  our  knowing  them.     And  it  con- 
sists in  the  second  place  of  such  an  extracted  sense 
of    the     whole,     which     becomes,    after    the    mos^ 
extraordinary   fashion,    bigger    by    the    extraction, 
immeasurably  bigger  than  even   the   most  cumula- 
tive    weight    of    the     mere    crude    evidence,    that 
our    choice   of    how  to  take  it  all  is   in  a   manner 
determined   for   us.     We    can   only  take   it  as  tre- 
mendously interesting,  interesting  not  only  in  itself 
but  with  the  great  added  interest,  the  dignity  and 
authority  and  beauty,  of  Browning's  general  percep- 
tion of  it.  We  cannot  accept  this — and  little  enough, 
on  the  whole,  do  we  want  to  :    it  sees  us,  with  its 
prodigious  push,  that  of  its  poetic,  aesthetic,  historic, 
psychologic    (one    scarce    knows    what    to    call    it) 
shoulder,  so  far  on  our  way.     Yet  all  the  while  we 
arc  in  presence  not  at  all  of  an  achieved  form,  but 
of  a  mere  preparation  for  one,  though  on  the  hugest 
scale  ;  so  that  you  see,  we  are  no  more  than  decently 
attentive  with  our  question  :   "  Which  of  them  all,  of 
the    various    methods    of   casting    the    wondrously 
mixed  metal,  is  he,  as  he  goes,  preparing?"     Well, 
as    he    keeps    giving    and  giving,  in  immeasurable 
plenty,  it  is   in   our  selection  from   it  all   and   our 
picking  it  over  that  we  seek  and  to  whatever  various 
and  unequal  effect  we  find  our  account.      He  works 
over  his  vast  material  and  we  then  work  him  over 
— though    not  availing  ourselves,  to   this  end,  of  a 


-<<s        THE    N'OVEL    IN    '  THE    RINU    AND    THE    HOOK.' 

grain    lie    himself    doesn't    somehow    give    us — and 
there  we  arc 

The  Hrsr  thing  we  do  then  is  to  east  about  for 
sonic  centre  in  our  Held;  seeing  that,  for  such  a 
purpose  as  ours,  the  subject  might  very  nearly 
go  a-begging  with  none  more  definite  than  the  author 
has  provided  for  it.  I  find  that  centre  in  the 
embracing  consciousness  of  Caponsacchi,  which, 
coming  to  the  rescue  of  our  question  of  treatment, 
of  our  search  for  a  point  of  control,  practically  saves 
everything,  and  shows,  itself,  moreover,  the  only  thing 
that  can  save.  The  more  we  ask  of  any  other  part  of 
our  picture  that  it  shall  exercise  a  comprehensive 
function,  the  more  we  see  that  particular  part  inade- 
quate ;  as  inadequate  even  in  the  extraordinarily 
magnified  range  of  spirit  and  reach  of  intelligence  of 
the  infernal  Franceschini  as  in  the  sublime  passivity 
and  plasticity  of  the  childish  Pompilia,  educated  to 
the  last  point  though  she  be  indeed  by  suffering,  but 
otherwise  so  untaught  that  she  can  neither  read  nor 
write.  The  magnified  state  is  in  this  work  still  more 
than  elsewhere  the  note  of  the  intelligence,  of  any  and 
every  faculty  of  thought,  imputed  by  our  poet  to 
his  creatures — and  it  takes  a  great  mind,  one  of  the 
greatest,  we  may  at  once  say,  to  make  these  persons 
express  and  confess  themselves  to  such  an  effect  of 
intellectual  splendour.  He  resorts  primarily  to  their 
sense,  their  sense  of  themselves  and  of  evervthino- 
else  they  know,  to  exhibit  them,  and  has  for  this 
purpose  to  keep  them,  and  to  keep  them  persistently 
and  inexhaustibly,  under  the  huge  lens  of  his  own 
prodigious  vision.  He  thus  makes  out  in  them 
boundless  treasures   of  truth — truth    even   when   it 


THE  NOVEL  IN  'THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.'    279 

happens  to  be,  as  in  the  case  of  Count  Guido,  but 
the  shining  wealth  of  constitutional  falsity.  Of  the 
extent  to  which  lm  may  after  this  fashion  unlimitedly 
draw  upon  them  his  exposure  of  Count  Guido, 
which  goes  on  and  on,  though  partly,  I  admit,  by 
repeating  itself,  is  a  wondrous  example.  It  is  not 
too  much  to  say  of  Pompilia,  Pompilia  pierced  with 
twenty  wounds,  Pompilia  on  her  death-bed,  Pompilia 
but  seventeen  years  old  and  but  a  fortnight  a 
mother,  that  she  acquires  an  intellectual  splendour 
just  by  the  fact  of  the  vast  covering  charity  of 
imao-ination  with  which  her  recording1,  our  com- 
memorated,  avenger,  never  so  as  in  this  case  an 
avenger    of    the   wronged  beautiful   things   of  life, 

or?  o 

hangs  over  and  breathes  upon  her.  We  see  her 
come  out  to  him — and  the  extremely  remarkable 
thing  is  that  we  see  it,  on  the  whole,  without  doubting 
that  it  might  have  been  so.  Nothing  could  thus 
be  more  interesting,  however  it  may  at  moments 
and  in  places  puzzle  us,  than  the  impunity,  on  our 
poet's  part,  of  most  of  these  over-stretchings  of  pro- 
portion, these  violations  of  the  immediate  appear- 
ance. Browning  is  deep  down  below  the  immediate 
with  the  first  step  of  his  approach ;  he  has  vaulted 
over  the  gate,  is  already  far  afield,  and  never,  so 
long  as  we  watch  him,  has  occasion  to  fall  back. 
We  wonder,  for  after  all  the  real  is  his  quest,  the 
very  ideal  of  the  real,  the  real  most  finely  mixed 
with  life,  which  is,  in  the  last  analysis,  the  ideal  ; 
and  we  know,  with  our  dimmer  vision,  no  such 
reality  as  a  Franceschini  fighting  for  his  life,  fighting 
tor  the  vindication  of  his  baseness,  embodving  his 
squalor,    with    an    audacity    of    wit,   an    intensity    of 


k.2S(>        THE    NOVEL    IX    £  THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.' 

colour,   a    variety    of    speculation    and    illustration, 
that   represent  well-nigh  the  maximum  play  of  the 
human  mind.      It  is  in  like  sort  scarce  too  much  to 
say  of  the  exquisite  Pompilia  that  on  her  part  intelli- 
gence and  expression  are  disengaged  to  a  point  at 
which  the  angels  may  well  begin  to  envy  her;  and 
all  again  without   our    once  wincing   so  far  as  our 
consistently  liking  to  see  and   hear   and   believe   is 
concerned.      Caponsacchi  regales  us,  of  course,  with 
the  rarest  fruit  of  a  great  character,  a  great  culture 
and  a  great  case  ;   but  Caponsacchi  is  acceptedly  and 
naturally,  needfully  and  illustratively,  splendid.    He 
is  the  soul  of  man  at  its  finest — having  passed  through 
the  smoky  tires  of  life  and  emerging  clear  and  high. 
Greatest  of  all  the  spirits  exhibited,  however,  is  that 
of    the    more    than    octogenarian    Pope,    at    whose 
brooding,  pondering,  solitary  vigil,  by  the  end  of  a 
hard  grey  winter  day  in  the  great,  bleak,   waiting 
Vatican — "  in  the  plain  closet  where  he   does  such 
work  " — we  assist  as  intimately  as  at  every  other 
step  of  the  case,  and  on  whose  grand  meditation  we 
heavily  hang.      But  the  Pope  is  too  high  above  the 
whole  connection,  functionally  and  historically,  for 
us  to  place  him  within  it  dramatically.       Our  Novel 
— which    please   believe  I  still  keep   before  me  !— 
dispenses  with  him,  as  it  dispenses  with  the  amazing, 
bristling,  all  too  indulgently  presented  Roman  advo- 
cates, on  either   side  of  the   case,  who  combine  to 
put  together  the    most    formidable    monument    we 
possess  to  Browing' s  active  curiosity,  and  the  liveliest 
proof  of  his  almost  unlimited  power  to  give  on  his 
readers'  nerves  without  giving  on  his  own. 

What  remains  with  us  all  this  time,  none  the  less, 


THE   NOVEL    IN    'THE   KING    AND   THE    BOOK.'        -81 

is  the  effect  of  magnification,  the  exposure  of  each  of 
these  figures,  in  its  degree,   to  that  iridescent  wash 
of  personality,  of  temper  and  faculty,  that  our  author 
ladles  out  to  them,  as  the  copious  share  of  each,  from 
his    own   great    reservoir    of  spiritual    health,    and 
which  makes  us,  as  I  have  noted,  seek  the  reason  of 
a    perpetual    anomaly.      Why,    bristling    so    with 
references    to  him  rather   than    with    references  to 
each  other  or  to  any  accompanying  set  of   circum- 
stances, do  they  still  establish  more  truth  and  beauty 
than  they  sacrifice,  do  they  still,  according  to  their 
chance,  help  to  make  '  The   Ring  and  the  Book  '   a 
great  living  thing,  a  great  objective  mass  ?   I  brushed 
by  the  answer  a  moment  ago,  I  think,  in  speaking  of 
the    development  in    Pompilia    of    the   resource  of 
expression;  which  brings  us  round,  it  seems  to  me, 
to    the    justification    of    Browning's    method.       To 
express  his  inner  self — his   outward  was  a  different 
affair  ! — and  to  express  it  utterly,  even   if  no  matter 
how,  was  clearly,  for  his  own  measure  and  conscious- 
ness   of    that    inner    self,    to    be    poetic ;     and    the 
solution    of  all    the    deviations   and   disparities,   or, 
speaking    critically,    monstrosities,   in    the  mingled 
tissue  of  this  work,  is  the  fact  that,  whether   or  no 
by    such    convulsions    of    soul    and    sense    life    got 
delivered  for  him,  the  garment  of  life — which  for 
him  was  poetry  and  poetry  alone — got  disposed  in 
its  due  and  adequate  multitudinous  folds.      We  move 
with  him  but  in  images  and  references  and  vast  and 
far   correspondences,   we   eat   but   of  strange  com- 
pounds and  drink  but  of  rare  distillations  ;   and  very 
soon,  after  a  course  of  this,  we  feel  ourselves,  how- 
ever much  or  however  little   to  our   advantage  we 


282      tin:  novel  in  'the  king   \ni>  the  hook.' 

may  on  occasion  pronounce  it,  in  the  world  of 
expression  at  any  cost.  That,  essentially,  is  the 
world  of  poetry — winch,  in  the  cases  known  to  our 
experience  where  it  seems  to  us  to  differ  from 
Browning's  world,  does  so  but  through  the  latter's 
having  been,  by  the  vigour  and  violence,  the  bold 
familiarity,  of  his  grasp  and  pull  at  it,  moved  several 
degrees  nearer  us,  so  to  speak,  than  any  other  of  the 
same  general  sort  with  which  we  are  acquainted  ; 
so  that,  intellectually,  we  back  away  from  it  a  little, 
back  down  before  it,  again  and  again,  as  ^we  try  to 
get  off  from  a  picture  or  a  group  or  a  view  which  is 
too  much  upon  us  and  thereby  out  of  focus.  Brown- 
ing is  "  upon  "  us,  straighter  upon  us  always,  some- 
how, than  anyone  else  of  his  race — and  we  thus 
recoil,  we  push  our  chair  back  from  the  table  he  so 
tremendously  spreads,  just  to  see  a  little  better  what 
is  on  it.  That  makes  a  relation  with  him  that  it  is 
difficult  to  express ;  as  if  he  came  up  against  us 
each  time,  on  the  same  side  of  the  street  and  not  on 
the  other  side,  across  the  way,  where  we  mostly  see 
the  poets  elegantly  walk  and  where  we  greet  them 
without  danger  of  concussion.  It  is  on  this  same 
side,  as  I  call  it,  on  our  side,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
I  rather  see  our  encounter  with  the  novelists  takin  La- 
place— we  being,  as  it  were,  more  mixed  with  them, 
or  they  at  least,  by  their  desire  and  necessity,  more 
mixed  with  us,  and  our  brush  of  them,  in  their  minor 
frenzy,  a  comparatively  muffled  matter. 

We  have  in  the  whole  thing,  at  any  rate,  the 
element  of  action  which  is  at  the  same  time  constant 
picture,  and  the  element  of  picture  which  is  at  the 
same   time  constant  action — and   with  a  fusion,  as 


THE  NOVEL  IN  '  THE  RINO  AND  THE  BOOK.'    283 

the  mass  moves,  that  is  none  the  less  effective,  none 
the  less  thick  and  complete,  from  our  not  owing  it 
in   the   least  to   an  artful  economy.     Another  force 
pushes    its  way   through    the   waste    and   rules   the 
scene,  making  wrong  things  right  and  right  things 
a  hundred  times  more  so  :   that  breath  of  Browning's 
own   particular  matchless  Italy  which   takes  us  full" 
in  the  face  and  remains  from  the  first  the  felt,  rich, 
coloured  air  in  which  we  live.      The  quantity  of  that 
atmosphere   that   he  had   to  give  out  is  like  nothing- 
else   in    English   poetry,  any  more  than  in   English 
prose,    that  I  recall;  and   since  I  am  taking  these 
liberties  with  him  let  me  take  one  too,  a  little,  with 
the    fruit   of  another  genius  shining  at  us  here  in 
association  —  with  that  great  placed  and  timed  prose 
fiction  which  we  owe  to  George  Eliot,  and  in  which  her 
projection  of  the  stage  and  scenery  is  so  different  ;i 
matter.       Curious  enough  this  difference  where   so 
many   things   make   for   identity  :    the   quantity   of 
talent,  the  quantity  of  knowledge,  the  high  equality 
(or  almost)  of  culture  and  curiosity,  not  to  say  of 
"  spiritual   life."       Each  writer    drags  along  a  far- 
sweeping  train,  though  indeed  Browning's  spreads 
so  considerably   furthest  ;    but   his  stirs  up,  to  my 
vision,  a    perfect   cloud  of  gold-dust,  while  hers,  in 
Romola,  by  contrast,  leaves   the   air  about  as  clear, 
about  as  white,  and  withal  about  as  cold,  as  before 
she    had    benevolently    entered    it.       This    straight 
saturation   of   our  author's,  this  prime  assimilation 
of  the  elements  for  which  the  name  of  Italy  stands, 
is  a  single  splendid  case,  however;   I  can  think  of 
no  second  one  that  is  not  below  it — if  we  take  it  as 
supremely    expressed    in    those    of    his    lyrics    and 


284   THE  NOVEL  IX  *  THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.' 

shorter  dramatic  monologues  that  it  has  most  lie! pod 
to  inspire.  The  Rome  and  Tuscany  of  the  early 
'fifties  had  become  for  him  so  at  once  a  medium,  a 
bath  of  the  senses  and  perceptions,  into  which  he 
could  sink,  in  which  he  could  uulimitedly  soak, 
!  hat  wherever  he  might  be  touched  afterwards  lie 
gave  out  some  effect  of  that  immersion.  This  places 
him  to  my  mind  quite  apart,  makes  the  rest  of  our 
poetic  record  of  a  similar  experience  comparatively 
pale  and  abstract.  Shelley  and  Swinburne — to 
name  only  his  compeers,  are,  I  know,  a  part  of  the 
record  ;  but  the  author  of  "  Men  and  Women,"  of 
"  Pippa  Passes,"  of  certain  of  the  "  Dramatic  Lyrics  " 
and  other  scattered  felicities,  not  only  expresses  and 
reflects  the  matter,  he  fairly,  he  heatedly  (if  I  may 
use  such  a  term)  exudes  and  perspires  it.  Shelley, 
let  us  say  in  the  connection,  is  alight,  and  Swinburne 
is  a  sound— Browning  alone  is  a  temperature.  We 
feel  it,  we  are  in  it  at  a  plunge,  with  the  very  first 
pages  of  the  thing  before  us — to  which,  I  confess, 
we  surrender  with  a  momentum  drawn  from  fifty 
of  their  predecessors,  pages  not  less  sovereign, 
elsewhere. 

The  old  Florence  of  the  late  spring  closes  round 
us ;  the  hand  of  Italy  is  at  once,  with  the  recital  of 
the  old-world  litter  of  Piazza  San  Lorenzo,  with 
that  of  the  great  glare  and  the  great  shadow- 
masses  heavy  upon  us,  heavy  with  that  strange 
weight,  that  mixed  pressure  which  is  somehow  to 
the  imagination  at  once  a  caress  and  a  menace. 
Our  poet  kicks  up  on  the  spot  and  at  short  notice 
what  I  have  called  his  cloud  of  gold-dust ;  I  can  but 
speak  for  myself  at  least — something  that  I  want  to 


THE   NOVEL   IN    'THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.'        285 

feel  both  as  historic  and  aesthetic  truth,  both  as 
pictorial  and  moral  interest,  something  that  will 
repay  my  fancy  tenfold  if  I  can  but  feel  it,  hovers 
before  me,  and  I  say  to  myself  that  whether  or  no  a 
great  poem  is  going  to  "  come  off,"  I'll  be  hanged  if 
one  of  the  vividest  of  all  stories  and  one  of  the 
sharpest  of  all  impressions  doesn't.  I  beckon  these 
things  on,  I  follow  them  up,  I  so  desire  and  need 
them  that  I,  of  course,  by  my  imaginative  collabora- 
tion, contribute  to  them — from  the  moment,  that 
is,  of  my  finding  myself  really  in  relation  to  the 
great  points.  On  the  other  hand,  as  certainly,  it 
has  taken  the  author  of  the  first  volume  and  of  the 
two  admirable  chapters  of  the  same — since  I  can't 
call  them  cantos ! — entitled  respectively  "  Half- 
Rome  "  and  "  The  Other  Half-Rome,"  to  put  me  in 
relation ;  where  it  is  that  he  keeps  me  more  and 
more,  letting  the  closeness  of  my  state,  it  must  be 
owned,  occasionally  drop,  letting  the  finer  call  on 
me,  even  for  bad  quarters  of  an  hour,  considerably 
languish,  but  starting  up  before  me  again  in  vivid 
authority  if  I  really  presume  to  droop  or  stray.  He 
takes  his  wilful  way  with  me,  but  I  make  it  my  own, 
picking  over  and  over,  as  I  have  said,  like  some 
lingering,  talking  pedlar's  client,  his  great  un- 
loosed pack ;  and  thus  it  is  that  by  the  time  I  am 
settled  with  Pompilia  at  Arezzo  I  have  lived  into  all 
the  conditions.  They  press  upon  me  close,  those 
wonderful,  dreadful,  beautiful  particulars  of  the 
Italy  of  the  eve  of  the  eighteenth  century — Browning 
himself  moving  about,  darting  hither  and  thither  in 
them,  at  his  mighty  ease.  Beautiful,  I  say,  because 
of  the  quantity  of  romantic  and  aesthetic  tradition, 
vol,,   xxxi.  21 


2S()       THE   NOVEL    IN   '  THE    RING    AXI>   THE    BOOK. 

from  a  more  romantic  and  aesthetic  age,  still  visibly, 
palpably  in  solution  there;  and  wonderful  and 
dreadful  through  something  of  a  similar  tissue  of 
matchless  and  ruthless  consistencies  and  im- 
moralities. I  make  to  my  hand,  as  this  infatuated 
reader,  my  Italy  of  the  eve  of  the  eighteenth  century 
— a  vast  painted  and  gilded  rococo  shell  roofing  over 
a  scenic,  an  amazingly  figured  and  furnished  earth, 
but  shutting  out  almost  the  whole  of  our  own  dearly 
bought,  rudely  recovered  spiritual  sky.  You  see  I 
have  this  right,  all  the  while,  if  I  recognise  my 
suggested  material,  which  keeps  coming  and  coming 
in  the  measure  of  my  need,  and  my  duty  to  which  is 
to  recognise  it,  and  as  handsomely  and  actively  as 
possible.  The  great  thing  is  that  I  have  such  a 
group  of  figures  moving  across  a  so  constituted 
scene— figures  so  typical,  so  salient,  so  reeking  with 
the  old-world  character,  so  impressed  all  over  with 
its  manners  and  its  morals,  and  so  predestined,  we 
see,  to  this  particular  horrid  little  drama.  And  let 
me  not  be  charged  with  giving  it  away,  the  idea  of 
the  latent  prose  fiction,  by  calling  it  little  and 
horrid  ;  let  me  not — for  with  my  contention  I  can't 
possibly  afford  to— appear  to  agree  with  those  who 
speak  of  the  Franceschini-Comparini  case  as  a  mere 
vulgar  criminal  anecdote. 

It  might  have  been  such  but  for  two  reasons — 
counting  only  the  principal  ones  ;  one  of  these  our 
fact  that  we  see  it  so,  I  repeat  in  Browning's 
inordinately  coloured  light,  and  the  other — which  is 
indeed,  perhaps,  but  another  face  of  the  same — that, 
with  whatever  limitations,  it  gives  us  in  the  rarest 
manner  three  characters  of  the  first  importance.     I 


THE  NOVEL  IN  '  THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.    2o/ 

hold  three  a  great  many — 1  could  have  done  with  it 
almost,  I  think,  if  there  had  been  but  one  or  two ; 
our  rich  provision  shows  you  at  any  rate  what  I 
mean  by  speaking  of  our  author's  performance  as 
above  all  a  preparation  for  something.  Deeply  he 
felt  that  with  the  three — the  three  built  up  at  us 
each  with  an  equal  genial  rage  of  reiterative  touches 
— there  couldn't  eventually  not  be  something  done 
(artistically  clone,  I  mean)  if  someone  would  only  do 
it !  There  they  are  in  their  old  yellow  Arezzo,  that 
miniature  milder  Florence,  as  sleepy  to  my  recollec- 
tion as  a  little  English  cathedral  city  clustered  about 
a  close,  but  dreaming  not  so  peacefully  nor  so 
innocently ;  there  is  the  great  fretted  fabric  of  the 
church  on  which  they  are  all  swarming  and  grovel- 
ling, yet  after  their  fashion  interesting  parasites, 
from  the  high  and  dry  old  Archbishop,  meanly  wise 
or  ignobly  edifying,  to  whom  Pompilia  resorts  in 
her  woe,  and  who  practically  pushes  her  away  with 
a  shuffling  velvet  foot ;  clown  through  the  couple  of 
Franceschini  cadets,  Canon  Girolamo  and  Abate 
Paul,  mere  minions,  fairly  in  the  verminous  degree, 
of  the  overgrown  order  or  too-rank  organism ;  down 
to  Count  Gruido  himself  and  to  Count  Caponsacchi, 
who  have  taken  the  tonsure  at  the  outset  of  their 
careers,  but  not  the  vows,  and  who  lead  their  lives 
under  some  strangest,  profanest,  perverteclest 
clerical  category.  There  have  been  before  this  the 
Roman  preliminaries,  the  career  of  the  queer 
Comparini,  the  adoption,  the  assumption  of  the 
parentship  of  the  ill-starred  little  girl,  with  the 
sordid  cynicism  of  her  marriage  out  of  hand,  con- 
veying her  presumptive  little  fortune,  her  poor 
vol..   xxxi.  21  § 


288        THE   NOVKL    IN   'THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK. 

handful  of  even  less  than  contingent  cash,  to  hungry 
middle-aged    Count    Guide's    stale    "rank";    the 
many-toned  note  or  turbid  harmony  of   all  of  which 
recurs  to  us  in  the  vivid   image  of  the  pieties  and 
paganisms  of  San  Lorenzo  in  Lucina,   that    banal 
little  church  in  the  old  upper  Corso— banal,  that  is, 
at  the  worst,  with  the  rare  Roman  banalite  ;  bravely 
banal  or  banal  with  style— that  we  have  passed,  but 
with  a  sense  of  its  reprieve  to  our  sight-seeing,  and 
where    the    bleeding   bodies   of  the    still-breathing 
Pompilia  and  her  extinct  companions  are  laid  out  on 
the  greasy  marble  of  the  altar  steps.     To  glance  at 
these  things,  however,  is  fairly  to  be  tangled,  and  at 
once,  in  the  author's  complexity  of   suggestion — to 
which  our  own  thick-coming  fancies  respond  in  no 
less  a  measure ;  so  that  I  have  already  missed  my 
time  to  so  much  even  as  name  properly  the  tremen- 
dous little  chapter  we  should  have  devoted  to  the 
Franceschini  interior  as  revealed  at  last  to  Comparini 
eyes ;    the   sinister   scene    or    ragged   ruin    of    the 
Aretine  "  palace,"  where  pride  and  penury,  and,  at 
once,  rabid  resentment,  show  their  teeth  in  the  dark 
and  the  void,  and  where   Pompilia's  inspired  little 
character,  clear  silver  hardened,  effectually  beaten 
and  battered  to  steel,  begins  to  shine  at  the  blackness 
with  a  light  that  fairly  out-faces  at  last  the  gleam  of 
wolfish  fangs ;  the  character  that  draws  from  Guido, 
in  his,  alas,   too   boundless  harangue  of  the  fourth 
volume,  some  of   the  sharpest  characterisations  into 
which  that  extraordinary  desert,  that  indescribable 
waste  of   intellectual  life,  as   I  have  called  it.  from 
time  to  time  flowers. 


THE   NOVEL    IN   'THE    RING   AND   THE    BOOK.'        289 

"  None  of  your  abnegation  of  revenge  ! 
Fly  at  me  frank,  tug  where  I  tear  again  ! " 

"  Away  with  the  empty  stare  !     Be  holy  still, 
And  stupid  ever  !     Occupy  your  patch 
Of  private  snow  that's  somewhere  in  what  world 
May  now  be  growing  icy  round  your  head 
And  aguish  at  your  foot-print — freeze  not  me  !  " 

Or  elsewhere  : 

"  She  could  play  off  her  sex's  armoury, 
Entreat,  reproach,  be  female  to  my  male, 
Try  all  the  shrieking  doubles  of  the  hare, 
And  yield  fair  sport  so  :  but  the  tactics  change,' 
The  hare  stands  stock-still  to  enrage  the  hound  ! 

This  self-possession  to  the  uttermost, 
How  does  it  differ  in  aught  save  degree 
From  the  tei^rible  patience  of  God  ?  " 

But  I  find  myself,  too  unresistingly,  quoting,  and 
so,  frankly,  as  I  cannot  justify  some  of  my  positions 
here  by  another  example  or  two,  I  must  cut  short  as 
to  what  I  should  have  liked  to  add  for  that  shaft 
further  to  be  sunk  into  the  dense  deposit  of  social 
decay  forming  Count  Guido's  domestic  life ;  the 
shaft  so  soon  widening  out  to  his  awful  mother, 
evoked  for  us  in  our  author's  single  sufficinor  line  : 

"  The  gaunt  grey  nightmare  in  the  furthest  smoke." 

The  mere  use  of  "furthest"  there  somehow 
makes  the  image  !  But  other  single  lines  glance  at 
us,  more  flower-like,  all  along,  out  of  the  rank 
vegetation  ;   such  as  : 

"  Fragment  of  record  verv  strong1  and  old." 


290        Till'    NOVEL   IN   c  THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.' 

Or  such  as  : 

"  Those  old  odd  corners  of  an  empty  heart." 

Or  such  as : 

"  Leave  that  live  passion,  come  be  dead  with  me." 

And  even  these  already  take  me  too  far,  or  would 
if  I  didn't  feel  it  really  important  just  to  put  in,  for 
your  brief  attention,  the  page  or  two  representing 
to  my  sense  the  highest  watermark  of  our  author's 
imagination  here  ;  representing  not,  like  too  many 
others,  mere  imaginative  motion,  but  real  imagina- 
tive life.  Taken  from  Caponsacchi's  address  in  the 
second  volume  it  consists  of  his  superb  visionary 
dismissal  and  disposal  of  Guido  ;  which  let  me  just 
preface,  however,  by  the  latter' s  own  splendid  howl, 
when  at  the  end  of  his  prodigious  final  interview 
with  justice,  an  interview,  as  given  us,  all  on  his 
own  side  and  involving,  well-nigh,  a  complete  con- 
spectus of  human  history,  the  man,  with  the  officers 
of  the  law  at  the  door  and  the  red  scaffold  in  view, 
breaks  out  in  the  concrete  truth  of  his  weakness 
and  terror  and  his  cry,  first,  to  his  judges,  "  Hold 
me  from  them  !  I  am  yours."  And  then,  frantically, 
wonderfully  : 

"  I  am  the  Grand-duke's — No,  1  am  the  Pope's  ! 
Abate — Cardinal — Christ — Maria — God 
Pompilia,  will  you  let  them  murder  me  ?  " 

I  have  pronounced  them  all  splendid  contentious 
minds ;  so  that  the  return  there,  at  a  jump,  to 
alarmed  nature,  to  passion  and  pain  as  we  more 
easily,  that  is  less  loquaciously,  "know  them,  has 
again    no    less    a    value    at    Caponsacchi's    broken 


THE   NOVEL   IN    '  THE    RING   AND   THE   BOOK.'        291 

climax  of  his  magnificent  plea — "  I  do  but  play 
with  an  imagined  life"— when  he  drops  suddenly 
straight  down  from  magnanimous  speculative  heights 
to  his  personal  sense  of  the  reality : 

"  0  great,  just,  good  God  !     Miserable  me  !  " 

However,    the    great    passage    I    allude    to    has 
everything. 

"  Let  us  go  away — leave  Guido  all  alone 
Back  on  the  world  again  that  knows  him  now  ! 
I  think  he  will  be  found  (indulged  so  far !) 
Not  to  die  so  much  as  slide  out  of  life, 
Pushed  by  the  general  horror  and  common  hate 
Low,  lower — left  o'  the  very  ledge  of  things, 
I  seem  to  see  him  catch  convulsively 
One  by  one  at  all  honest  forms  of  life, 
At  reason,  order,  decency  and  use — 
To  cramp  him  and  get  foothold  by  at  least ; 
And  still  they  disengage  them  from  his  clutch. 
'  What,  you  are  he  then  had  Pompilia  once 
And  so  forewent  her  ?     Take  not  up  with  us  ! ' 
And  thus  I  see  him  slowly  and  surely  edged 
Of  all  the  table-land  whence  life  upsprings 
Aspiring  to  be  immortality, 

As  the  snake,  hatched  on  hill-top  by  mischance, 
Despite  his  wriggling,  slips,  slides,  slidders  down 
Hillside,  lies  low  and  prostrate  on  the  smooth 
Level  of  the  outer  place,  lapsed  in  the  vale  : 
So  I  lose  Guido  in  the  loneliness, 
Silence  and  dusk,  till  at  the  doleful  end, 
At  the  horizontal  line,  creation's  verge, 
From  what  just  is  to  absolute  nothingness — 
Lo,  what  is  this  he  meets,  strains  onward  still  ? 
What  other  man  deep  further  in  the  fate, 
Who,  turning  at  the  prize  of  a  footfall 
To  flatter  him  and  promise  fellowship, 


292        THE    NOVEL    IN    'THE    RING    AND   THE    BOOK. 

Discovers  in  the  act  a  frightful  face — 

Judas,  made  monstrous  by  much  solitude  ! 
The  two  are  at  one  new  !     Let  them  love  their  love 
That  bites  and  claws  like  bate,  or  hate  their  hate 
That  mops  and  mows  and  makes  as  it  were  love  ! 
There,  let  them  each  tear  each  in  devil's-fnn, 
Or  fondle  this  the  other  while  malice  aches — 
Both  teach,  both  learn  detestability  ! 
Kiss  him  the  kiss,  Iscariot !  Pay  that  back, 
That  smatch  o'  the  slaver  blistering-  on  your  lip- 
By  the  better  trick,  the  insult  he  spared  Christ — 
Lure  him  the  lure  o'  the  letters,  Aretine  ! 
Lick  him  o'er  slimy-smooth  with  jelly-filth 
0'  the  verse-and-prose  pollution  in  love's  guise  ! 
The  cockatrice  is  with  the  basilisk  ! 
There  let  them  grapple,  denizen's  o'  the  dark, 
Foes  or  friends,  but  indissolubly  bound, 
In  their  one  spot  out  of  the  ken  of  God 
Or  care  of  man,  for  ever  and  ever  more  !  " 

I  have  spoken  of  the  enveloping  consciousness — 
or  call  it  just  the  struggling,  emerging,  comparing, 
at  last  intensely  living  conscience — of  Caponsacchi 
as  the  indicated  centre  of  our  situation  or  deter- 
minant of  our  form,  in  the  matter  of  the  excellent 
novel;  and  know,  of  course,  what  such  an  indica- 
tion lets  me  in  for,  responsibly  speaking,  in  the 
way  of  a  rearrangement  of  relations,  in  the  way 
of  liberties  taken.  To  lift  our  subject  out  of  the 
sphere  of  anecdote  and  place  it  in  the  sphere  of 
drama,  liberally  considered,  to  give  it  dignity  by 
extracting  its  finest  importance,  causing  its  parts 
to  flower  together  into  some  splendid  special 
sense,  we  supply  it  with  a  large  lucid  reflector, 
which  we    find  only,  as   I  have    already  noted,  in 


THE  NOVEL  IN  '  THE  KINO  AND  THE  BOOK.'    293 

that  mind  and  sonl  concerned  in  the  business  that 
have  at  once  the  highest  sensibility  and  the  highest 
capacity,  or  that  are,  as  we  may  call  it,  most 
admirably  agitated.  There  is  the  awkward  fact, 
the  objector  may  say,  that  by  our  record  the  mind 
and  soul  in  question  are  not  concerned  till  a 
given  hour,  when  many  things  have  already  hap- 
pened and  the  climax  is  almost  in  sight;  to  which 
we  reply,  at  our  ease,  that  we  simply  don't  suffer 
that  fact  to  be  awkward.  From  the  moment  I  am 
taking  liberties  I  suffer  no  awkwardness  ;  1  should 
be  very  helpless,  quite  without  resource  and  with- 
out vision,  if  I  did.  I  said  it  to  begin  with  : 
Browning  works  the  whole  thing  over— the  whole 
thing  as  originally  given  him — and  we  work  him  ; 
helpfully,  artfully,  boldly,  which  is  our  whole  blest 
basis.  We  therefore  turn  Caponsacchi  on  earlier, 
ever  so  much  earlier  ;  turn  him  on,  with  a  brave 
ingenuity,  from  the  very  first — that  is  in  Rome, 
if  need  be  ;  place  him  there  in  the  field,  at  once 
recipient  and  agent,  vaguely  conscious  and  with 
splendid  brooding  apprehension,  awaiting  the  adven- 
ture of  his  life,  awaiting  his  call,  his  real  call  (the 
others  have  been  such  vain  shows  and  hollow  stop- 
gaps), awaiting,  in  fine,  his  terrible  great  fortune. 
His  direct  connection  withPompilia  begins, certainly, 
at  Arezzo,  only  after  she  had  been  some  time 
hideously  mis  mated  and  has  suffered  all  but  her 
direst  extremity — that  is  of  the  essence  :  we  take 
it;  it's  all  right.  But  his  indirect  participation  is 
another  affair,  and  we  get  it — at  a  magnificent 
stroke — by  the  fact  that  his  view  of  Franceschini, 
his    fellow-Aretine    sordidly    "on     the    make,"  his 


294        Tlll'l    NOVEL    IX    "TIIK    RING    AND   THE    BOOK.' 

measure  of  undesired,  of,  indeed,  quite  execrated, 
contact  with  him,  brushed  against  in  the  motley, 
hungry  Roman  traffic,  where  and  while  that  sinister 
soul  snuffs  about  on  the  very  vague,  or  the  very 
foul,  scent  of  his  fortune,  may  begin  whenever  we 
like.  We  have  only  to  have  it  begin  right,  only 
to  make  it,  on  the  part  of  two  men,  a  relation  of 
strong,  irritated  perception  and  restless,  righteous, 
convinced  instinct  in  the  one  nature,  and  of  equally 
instinctive  hate  and  envy,  jealousy  and  latent  fear, on 
the  other,  to  see  the  indirect  connection, the  one  with 
Pompilia,  as  I  say,  throw  across  our  page  as  por- 
tentous a  shadow  as  we  need.  Then  we  get  Capon- 
sacchi  as  a  recipient  up  to  the  brim — as  an  agent,  a 
predestined  one,  up  to  the  hilt.  I  can  scarce  begin 
to  tell  you  what  I  see  him  give,  as  we  say,  or  how 
his  sentient  and  observational  life,  his  fine  reactions 
in  presence  of  such  a  creature  as  Guido,  such  a 
social  type  and  image  and  lurid  light,  as  it  were, 
make  him  comparatively  a  modern  man,  breathed 
upon,  to  that  deep  and  interesting  agitation  I  have 
mentioned,  by  more  forces  than  he  yet  reckons  or 
knows  tlie  names  of. 

The  direct  relation — always  to  Pompilia— is  made, 
at  Arezzo,  as  we  know,  by  Franceschini  himself; 
preparing  his  own  doom,  in  the  false  light  of  his 
debased  wit,  by  creating  an  appearance  of  hidden 
dealing  between  his  wife  and  the  priest  which  shall, 
as  promptly  as  he  likes — if  he  but  work  it  right- — 
compromise  and  overwhelm  them.  The  particular 
deepest  damnation  he  conceives  for  his  weaker,  his 
weakest  victim  is  that  she  shall  take  the  cleric 
Caponsacchi  for  her  lover,  he  indubitably  willing — 


THE  NOVKL  IN  'THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.'    295 

to  G-uido's  apprehension ;  and  that  her  castigation 
at  his  hands  for  this,  sufficiently  proved  upon  her, 
shall  be  the  last  luxury  of  his  own  baseness.  He 
forges  infernally,  though  grossly  enough,  an  imputed 
correspondence  between  them,  a  series  of  love 
letters,  scandalous  scrawls,  of  the  last  erotic  inten- 
sity ;  which  we  in  the  event  see  solemnly  weighed 
by  his  fatuous  judges,  all  fatuous  save  the  grave  old 
Pope,  in  the  scale  of  Pompilia's  guilt  and  responsi- 
bility. It  is  this  atrocity  that  at  the  denoument 
damns  Gruido  himself  most,  or  well-nigh;  but  if  it 
fails  and  recoils,  as  all  his  calculations  do — it  is  only 
his  rush  of  passion  that  doesn't  miss — this  is  by  the 
fact  exactly  that,  as  we  have  seen,  his  wife  and  her 
friend  are,  for  our  perfect  persuasion,  characters  of 
the  deepest  dye.  There,  if  you  please,  is  the  finest 
side  of  our  subject ;  such  sides  comes  up,  such  sides 
flare  out  upon  us,  when  we  get  such  characters  in 
such  embroilments.  Admire  with  me  therefore  our 
felicity  in  this  first-class  value  of  Browning's  beau- 
tiful, critical,  genial  vision  of  his  Caponsacchi — vision 
of  him  as  the  tried  and  tempered  and  illuminated 
man,  a  great  round  smooth,  though  as  yet  but  little 
worn  gold-piece,  an  embossed  and  figured  ducat  or 
sequin  of  the  period,  placed  by  the  poet  in  my  hand. 
He  gives  me  that  value  to  spend  for  him,  spend  on 
all  the  strange  old  experience,  old  sights  and  sounds 
and  stuffs,  of  the  old  stored  Italy — so  we  have  at 
least  the  wit  to  spend  it  to  high  advantage ;  which 
is  just  what  I  mean  by  our  taking  the  liberties  we 
spoke  of.  I  see  such  bits  we  can  get  with  it  ;  but 
the  difficulty  is  that  I  see  so  many  more  things  than 
I  can  have  eveu  dreamed  of  giving  you  a  hint  of.    I 


296        Till:    NOVEL    IN    "Till:    RING    AX1>   THE    Hook.' 

see  the  Arezzo  life  and  the  Arezzo  crisis  with  every 
"i"  dotted  and  every  circumstance  presented;  and 
when  Guido  takes  his  wife,  as  a  possible  trap  for 
her,  to  the  theatre — the  theatre  of  old  Arezzo : 
share  with  me  the  tattered  vision  and  inhale  the 
musty  air  ! — I  am  well  in  range  of  Pompilia,  the 
tragically  exquisite,  in  her  box,  with  her  husband 
not  there  for  the  hour  but  posted  elsewhere;  I  look  at 
her  in  fact  over  Caponsacchi's  shoulder  and  that  of 
his  brother-canon  Conti,  while  this  light  character, 
a  vivid  recruit  to  our  company,  manages  to  toss 
into  her  lap,  and  as  coming  in  guise  of  overture 
from  his  smitten  friend,  "  a  paper-twist  of  comfits." 
There  is  a  particular  famous  occasion  at  the  theatre 
in  a  work  of  more  or  less  contemporary  fiction — at 
a  petty  provincial  theatre  which  isn't  even,  as  you 
might  think,  the  place  where  Pendennis  had  his  first 
glimpse  of  Miss  Fotheringay.  The  evening  at 
the  Rouen  playhouse  of  Flaubert's  "Madame 
Bovary  "  has  a  relief  not  elsewhere  equalled — it  is 
the  most  done  visit  to  the  play  in  all  literature — but, 
though  "  doing  "  is  now  so  woefully  out  of  favour, 
my  idea  would  be  to  give  it  here  a  precious  pendant ; 
which  connection,  silly  Canon  Conti,  the  old  frip- 
peries and  levities,  the  whole  queer  picture  and  show 
of  manners,  is  handed  over  to  us,  expressly,  as 
inapt  for  poetic  illustration. 

What  is  equally  apt  for  poetic  or  for  the  other, 
indeed,  is  the  thing  for  which  we  feel  '  The  Ring 
and  the  Book  '  preponderantly  done — it  is  at  least 
what  comes  out  clearest,  comes  out  as  straightest  and 
strongest  and  finest,  from  Browning's  genius — the 
exhibition  of  the  great  constringent  relation  between 


THE  NOVEL  IX  '  THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK.'   297 

man  and  woman  at  once  at  its  maximum  and  as  the 
relation  most  worth  while  in  life  for  either  party  ;  an 
exhibition  forming*  quite  the  main  substance  of  our 
author's  message.  He  has  dealt,  in  his  immense 
variety  and  vivacity,  Avith  other  relations,  but  on 
this  he  has  thrown  his  most  living  weight ;  it 
remains  the  thing  of  which  his  own  rich  experience 
most  convincingly  spoke  to  him.  He  has  testified 
to  it  as  charged  to  the  brim  with  the  burden  of  the 
senses,  and  has  testified  to  it  as  almost  too  clarified, 
too  liberated  and  sublimated,  for  traceable  applica- 
tion or  fair  record ;  he  has  figured  it  as  never  too 
much  either  of  the  flesh  or  of  the  spirit  for  him,  so 
long  as  the  possibility  of  both  of  these  is  in  each, 
but  always  and  ever  as  the  thing  absolutely  most 
worth  while.  It  is  in  the  highest  and  rarest  degree 
clarified  and  disengaged  for  Caponsacchi  and 
Pompilia;  but  what  their  history  most  concludes  to 
is  how  ineffably  it  was,  whatever  happened,  worth 
while.  Worth  while  most  then  for  them  or  for  us 
is  the  question  ?  Well,  let  us  say  worth  while 
assuredly  for  us,  in  this  noble  exercise  of  our 
imagination.  Which  accordingly  shows  us  what  we, 
for  all  our  prose  basis,  would  have  found,  to  repeat 
my  term  once  more,  prepared  for  us.  There  isn't  a 
detail  of  their  panting  flight  to  Rome  over  the 
autumn  Appennines — the  long  hours  when  they  melt 
together  only  not  to  meet — that  doesn't  positively 
plead  for  our  perfect  prose  transcript.  And  if  it  be 
said  that  the  mere  massacre  at  the  final  end  is 
a  lapse  to  a  passivity  from  the  high  plane,  for 
our  pair  of  protagonists,  of  constructive,  of  heroic 
vision,  this  is  not  a  blur  from  the  time  every - 
vol.  xxxi.  22 


-  5 


298        THE   NOVEL   IN   '  THE   KING   AND   THE    BOOK 

tiling-  that  happens  happens  most  effectively  to 
Caponsacchi's  life.  Pompilia's  is  taken,  but  she  is 
none  the  less  given  ;  and  it  is  in  his  consciousness 
and  experience  that  she  most  intensely  flowers — 
with  all  her  jubilation  for  doing  so.  So  that  he 
contains  the  whole — unless  indeed,  after  all,  the 
Pope  does,  the  Pope  whom  I  was  leaving  out  as  too 
transcendent  for  our  version.  Unless,  unless,  further 
and  further,  I  see  what  I  have  at  this  late  moment 
no  right  to ;  see,  as  the  very  end  and  splendid 
climax  of  all,  Caponsacchi  sent  for  to  the  Vatican 
and  admitted  alone  to  the  Papal  presence.  There  is 
a  scene  if  we  will;  and  in  the  mere  mutual  con- 
frontation, brief,  silent,  searching,  recognising, 
consecrating,  almost  as  august  on  the  one  part  as 
on  the  other. 

It  has  been  easy  in  many  another  case  to  run  to 
earth  the  stray  prime  fancy,  the  original  anecdote 
or  artless  tale  from  which  a  great  imaginative  work, 
starting  off  after  meeting  it,  has  sprung  and  re- 
bounded again  and  soared  ;  and  perhaps  it  is  right 
and  happy  and  final  that  one  should  have  faltered 
in  attempting  by  a  converse  curiosity  to  clip  off  or 
tie  back  the  wings  that  once  have  spread.  You 
will  agree  with  me  none  the  less,  I  feel,  that 
Browning's  great  generous  wings  are  over  us  still 
and  even  now,  more  than  ever  now — as  also  that 
they  shake  down  on  us  his  blessing. 


REPORT 

OF  THE 

flopl  Sffrietii  of  Jiteratan, 

20,    HANOVER  SQUARE,    W. 

AND 

LIST     OF     FELLOWS. 
1912. 


iumal  ^ociftn  of  Citcraturr  of  tljc  ftlnitcb  Ihmkmu 

Founded  in  1825  by  H.M.  King  George  the  Fourth. 


Ration. 

HIS  MAJESTY  THE  KING. 


COUNCIL    AND     OFFICERS     FOR     1912-13. 

prcsiomt. 
The  Right  Hon.  the  Earl  of  Halsburt,  F.R.S. 

"Fice^Urrsitirnts. 
Sir  Edward  Brabrook,  C.B.,  Diu.S.A. 
W.  J.  Courthope,  Esq.,  C.B.,  D.Litt. 
G.  W.  Froth ero,  Esq.,  Litt.D.,  LL.D. 
Professor  J.  W.  Mackail,  M.A.,  LL.D. 
Professor  W.  L.  Codrtney,  M.A.,  LL.D. 
Professor  A.  C.  Benson,  C.V.O.,  ALA. 
Austin  Dobson,  Esq.,  LL.D. 
Rev.  J.  Arbuthnot  Nairn,  Litt.D.,  B.D. 
J.  M.  Barrie,  Esq.,  ALA.,  LL.D. 
Henry  James,  Esq.,  D.Litt. 

Council. 
Percy  W.  Ames,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  F.S.A. 
James  Curtis,  Esq.,  F.S.A. 
Kev.  P.   H.  Ditchfield,  ALA.,  F.S.A. 
Professor  AI.  A.  Gerotiiwohl,  Litt.D. 
Edmund  Gosse,  Esq.,  C.B.,  LL.D. 
Emanuel  Green,  Esq.,  F.S.A. 
AIaurice  Hewlett,  Esq. 
H.  AT.  Imbert-Terry,  Esq. 
Professor  Henry  Newbolt,  ALA. 
Philip  H.  Newman,  Esq.,  R.B.A.,  F.S.A. 
Rev.  H.  G.  Rosedale,  ALA.,  D.I).,  F.S.A. 

The  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Ryle,  D.D.,  C.V.O.,  Dean  of  Westminster. 
G.  Bernard  Shaw,  Esq. 
M.  H.  Spielmann,  Esq.,  F.S.A. 
R.  Inigo  Tasker.  Esq. 
The  Baron  de  Worms,  F.S.A. 

(9flUfl9. 

iTreasum'. — Sir  Edward  Brabrook,  C.B. 

ty)on.  Jfcvrtgn  Sr Cretan?.— Rev.  H.  G.  Rosedale,  M.A.,  D.D.,  F.S.A. 

if tiftari?  ano  librarian. — Percy  VV.  Ames,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  F.S.A. 

~  „..  r David  Tollemache,  Esq. 

auDitors.— (CHAg    a    Bradf0RDj  esq.,  f.S.A. 

i>onorar$?  Solicitor.— T.  Cato  Worsfold.  Esq.,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  9,  Staple  Inn, 

Holborn,  W.C. 

^onorarii  professorships. 
English    Fiction.— Prof.    A.    C.    Benson,    C.V.O.,    ALA.,    Fellow    of 

Magdalene  College,  Cambridge. 
Dramatic  Literature.— Prof.  \V.  L.  Courtney,  ALA.,  LL.D.,  Fellow  of 

New  College,  Oxford. 
Comparative  Literature.— Prof.  Gekothwohl,  Litt.D.,  Trinity  College, 

Dublin. 
Foetrg. — Prof.  Henry  Newbolt,  ALA.,  Oxou. 


CONTENTS. 


Officers  and  Council 

Report  of  the  Council    . 

Cash  Account  and  Balance  Sheet 

Anniversary  Address 

Librarian's  Report 

The  Academic  Committee 

Edmond  de  Polignac  Prize 

Browning-  Centenary 

Hon.  Foreign  Secretary's  Report 

List  of  Fellows     . 

Foreign  Honorary  Fellows 


PAGE 

2 
5 

7-8 
11 
25 
31 
32 
34 
35 
48 
67 


iUintl  Sotictn  nl  literature. 


ANNIVERSARY  MEETING. 
May  22nd,  1912. 

REPORT   OF   THE    COUNCIL. 

The  Council  have  the  honour  to  report  that 
since  the  last  Anniversary  Meeting,  held  on 
May  24th,  1911,  there  have  been  the  following 
changes  in  the  number  of  Fellows  of  the 
Society. 

They  have  to  announce  the  loss  by  death  of — 

Rev.  A.  M.  Faiebairn,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  D.Litt. 

(f.  J.  Johnson,  J. P. 

Rev.  J.  E.  Perkins,  M.A. 

J.  S.  Phene,  LL.D.,  F.S.A. 

And  by  resignation  of — 
Sir  A.  Geikie,  F.R.S. 
Prof.  G.  E.  B.  Saintsbury,  D.Litt. 
Col.  T.  D.  Sewell. 


(') 

On  the  other  hand,  they  have  to    announce 
the  election  of  the  following : 

Arthur  William  Beckett,  Esq. 

James  Matthew  Barrie,  Esq.,  M.A.,  LL.D. 

John  Arthur  Brooke,  Esq. 

Rev.  Edgar  Daplyn. 

John  Galsworthy,  Esq. 

Charles  Garvice,  Esq. 

Rev.  John  Hudson,  M.A. 

Arthur  Maquarie,  Esq. 

The  Princess  Edmond  de  Polignac. 

Anne,  Lady  Richmond  Ritchie. 

George  Bernard  Shaw,  Esq. 

Henry  Simpson,  Esq. 


Since  the  last  Anniversary  Meeting  the  follow- 
ing- "Transactions"  have  been  issued  to  the 
Fellows:  Vol.  xxx,  part  iv;    Vol.  xxxi,  part  i. 

The  Balance-sheet  for  1911,  showing  the 
financial  state  of  the  Society,  after  being 
laid  on  the  table  for  the  information  of  the 
Fellows,  is  printed  with  this  Report  as  follows  : 


o 


P 

O 

o 

o 


m> 


j^»         CO 


Pt> 


CO     O     r-i     1.-5     L--     O     <M 
00     O     l>     CM     O     Q     30 

O     t^     rH     lO     O 


CM     'N 


CO      CO 


OSS 

S3     o 


<"      z:      ~      >-.  ^ 

r—       rt     '~     ."2       "^     ^s 

K     ffi     £     3     S     H 


^   co  -*  o  t-  cm 

.  oo  ^  tt  o  o 

05       i—(  i— I  H 

Ci  CM  CO  (N  CO 

«fj      <M  O  ri  ©  >-i 

CM  CM  CO 


2    5 


Wh3 
-a     .K 

3     G  O 


rf 


ai     ;"    — 


^ 


Q. 


s  a  a  m  w 


«w 


« 


<->  1=  © 

n  to  O 


lO  o  o 
1^  i~  >o 
lO  i —  7) 


!-*  «D  W 


o 


u 


5  * 


to 


CO 


rH    ~         _      S      S      ^   _~ 

SO  § 


a  o  g  ><o  a  os  _,„  to   3 
>  ^      «rt     «rt 


^ 


/. 


^  CO 


CO  O 

r-l   © 

O  CO 

CO  i-H 

ooo 

O  O  CO 

i-H   Is-  lO 

CI  X  o 

I-  i-i   CO 

5    :  £    : M 


- 

S3 

■- . 

-a 

a 

CO 

3 

"on 

: 

-E 

- 

5 

&H 

5 

O 

- 

■z 

<s 

■2 

- 

- 

o 

_ 

1 

o 

*i 

» 

Q 

=+J  4) 

M^   O 

■^     a? 


SO 

~a 

So 


B3       .      <^ 


3    u 


_    >  


.-  —  a         : 


CC   i-H 

O  N 

i-i  Ci 


o 

° 

o 

o 

o 

o 

■ 

o 

° 

o 

fh 

— 

o  m 

o 

cc 

^H 

^ 

=w 

&H 

s 

srt 

t. 

: 

0> 

-r 

o 

S3 

a 

u 

s 

> 

- 

~ 

X 

a 

& 

a 

>- 

g.^ 


S3 


Ph       W 


9 

The  following  Papers  have  been  read  before 
the  Society  since  the  last  Anniversary  Meeting  : 

I.  May  24th,  1911.  Sir  Edward  Brabrook, 
C.B.,  Vice-President,  in  the  chair.  A  Paper 
was  read  on  The  Apostles  of  Moravia  and 
Bohemia,  by  the  Count  Li'itzow,  D.Litt.,  Hon. 
F.R.S.L. 

II.  October  25th,  1911.  Sir  Edward 
Brabrook,  C.B.,  Vice-President,  in  the  chair. 
A  Paper  was  read  on  Eighteenth  Century  Poetry 
inthelight  of  Nineteenth  Century  Critical  Theory, 
by  Professor  R.  P.  Cowl,  M.A.,  F.R.S.L. 

III.  November  22nd,  1911.  The  Rev.  J. 
Arbuthnot  Nairn,  Litt.D.,  Vice-President,  in 
the  chair.  A  Lecture  with  Lantern  Illustra- 
tions on  The  Manor  Houses  and  Village  Life  of 
the  time  of  Shakespeare  was  given  by  the  Rev. 
P.  H.  Ditchfield,  M.A.,  F.S.A.,  F.R.S.L. 

IV.  January  24th,  1912.  W.  J.  Courthope, 
Esq.,  C.B.,  D.Litt.,  Vice-President,  in  the  chair. 
A  Paper  was  read  on  Lucian  and  his  Times,  by 
Howard  Candler,  Esq.,  M.A.,  F.R.S.L. 

V.  February  28th,  1912.  Professor  W.  L. 
Courtney,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  Vice-President,  in  the 


10 

chair.     A  Paper  was  read  on  Nicholas  Amhurst, 
by  Charles  E.  Wade,  Esq.,  M.A.,  F.R.S.L. 

VI.  March  27th,  1912.  Sir  Edward 
Brabrook,  C.B.,  Vice-President,  in  the  chair. 
A  Paper  was  read  on  The  Best  Poetry,  by  T. 
Sturge  Moore,  Esq.,  Member  of  the  Academic 
Committee. 

VII.  April  24th,  1912.  Professor  A.  C. 
Benson,  C.V.O.,  Vice-President,  in  the  chair. 
A  Paper  was  read  on  Recent  Discoveries  in 
Classical  Literature,  by  Joseph  Offord,  Esq. 

Lectures. 

The  following  lectures  have  been  given — 

Professor  A.  C.  Benson,  C.V.O.,  M.A.,  on 
English  Fiction,  November  8th  and  March  13th. 

Professor  Henry  Newbolt,  M.A.,  on  Poetry 
December  13th,  February  21st  and  May  8th. 

Professor  W.  L.  Courtney,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  on 
Dramatic  Literature,  on  January  17th  and 
April  17th. 

Professor  M.  A.  Gerothwohl,  Litt.D.,  on 
Comparative  Literature,  on  February  14th. 

These  have  all  been  attended  by  large 
audiences. 


]] 


ANNIVERSARY    ADDRESS,    1912. 

By  Sib  Edwaed  Brabrook,  C.B., 
Vice-President  and  Treasurer. 

In  the  absence  of  our  venerated  President, 
Lord  Halsbury,  on  the  Continent,  it  has  again 
become  my  duty,  in  obedience  to  the  wish  of 
my  colleagues  on  the  Council,  to  do  all  the 
little  that  lies  in  my  power  to  supply  his  place. 
Though  the  delivery  of  an  anniversary  address 
has  occasionally  been  omitted,  it  is  a  time- 
hononred  custom  with  us,  as  with  other 
societies,  and  I  should  be  sorry  if,  on  account 
of  my  own  inability  to  do  justice  to  my  theme, 
it  were  omitted  on  the  present  occasion.  I 
therefore  rise — I  think  for  the  twelfth  time — 
to  offer  a  few  observations  on  the  work  of  the 
Society,  which  has  now  completed  the  eighty- 
ninth  year  of  its  existence.  In  words  which 
were  a  common  form  during  the  illustrious 
presidency   of   Bishop    Connop    Thirlwall,    "  1 


12 


''-'  <mMh  pleasure  in  doing  so,  because  I  am 
able  still  to  speak  to  you,  as  1  have  done  on  so 
many  previous  years,  of  the  continued  welfare 
and  prosperity  of  this  Society." 

The  same  compliance  with   long-established 
custom  compels  me  nevertheless  to  begin  on  a 
low  note,  by  recalling  to  your  memory  the  toll 
that   death   has   exacted   from    us    during   the 
year.     I  must  first  mention  my  dear  old  friend 
Dr.  John  Samuel  Phene,  who  had  reached  his 
eighty-ninth  year.     He  had  been  a  member  of 
the    British  Association   since  the  year   1863 
was  elected  a  Fellow  of  the  Society  of  Anti- 
quaries  in    1872,   and   Joined   our   Society  in 
187S.     In  the  year  1892,  when  Lord  Halsbury 
became    President,    Dr.    Phene    and    I    were 
added  to  the  list  of  Vice-Presidents,  of  which 
hst,  as  it  then  stood,  I  am  now  the  last  sur- 
vivor.    His  deep  interest  in   the   Society  was 
manifested  by  his  contributing  not  fewer  than 
eight  papers  to  our  <  Transactions,*  in  which  he 
brought  great  erudition  and  shrewd  observa- 
tion to  bear  upon  a  variety  of  subjects,  viz.  : 


13 

"  Linguistic  Synonyms  in  the  Pre-Roman 
Languages  of  Britain  and  of  Italy  "  (vol.  xv), 
"King  Arthur  and  St.  George"  (vol.  xvii), 
"  Ethical  and  Symbolical  Literature  in  Art  " 
(vol.  xviii),  "AevSpo^opm,  or  Tree  Transporting  " 
(vol.  xix),  "  Place  Names  in  and  around  Rome, 
Latium,  Etruria,  Britain,  etc.,  with  Earthworks 
and  Other  Works  of  Art  illustrating:  such 
Names  "  (vol.  xx),  "  The  Rise,  Progress,  and 
Decay  of  the  Art  of  Painting  in  Greece  "  (vol. 
xxi),  and  "  The  Influence  of  Chaucer  on  the 
Language  and  Literature  of  England "  (vol. 
xxii).  There  was  thus,  in  recent  times,  hardly 
a  year  in  which  he  did  not  make  some  com- 
munication to  our  Society  :  he  was  regular  in 
attendance  at  our  Councils  up  to  the  last  year 
of  his  life. 

Dr.  Andrew  Martin  Fairbairn  was  elected  a 
Fellow  of  our  Society  in  1907,  and  died  on 
February  9th,  1912,  in  his  seventy-fourth  year. 
Though  present  at  one  of  our  meetings,  he 
took  no  active  part  in  our  work.  He  was  the 
first  Principal  of  Mansfield  College,  Oxford, 
and    author    of    numerous    philosophical    and 


14 

religious  works.  He  had  received  honorary 
degrees  from  seven  universities. 

Mr.  George  J.  Johnson,  of  Birmingham,  J. P., 
was  one  of  our  oldest  Fellows,  having  been 
elected  in  1865.  He  occasionally  served  on 
the  Council.     He  died  on  January  16th. 

We  have  lost  another  of  our  older  Fellows 
in  the  Rev.  James  Edward  Perkins,  vicar  of 
St.  Michael  and  All  Angels,  Bradford.  He  was 
elected  in  1876,  and  died  July  21st,  1911,  in 
his  eighty-first  year. 

Our  losses  by  death,  and  by  the  withdrawal 
of  three  of  our  Fellows,  have  been  more  than 
supplied  by  the  addition  of  twelve  new  Fellows 
to  our  list,  of  whom  four  are  members  of  our 
Academic  Committee.  We  are  gratified  thus 
to  enrol  among  our  number  Lady  Ritchie, 
Mr.  J.  M.  Barrie,  Mr.  John  Galsworthy  and 
Mr.  George  Bernard  Shaw.  We  also  welcome 
as  Fellows  the  Princess  Edmond  de  Polignac, 
Mr.  A.  W.  Beckett,  Mr.  J.  A.  Brooke,  the 
Rev.  E.  Daplyn,  Mr.  Charles  Garvice,  the 
Rev.  John  Hudson,  Mr.  Arthur  Maquarie  and 
Mr.  Henry  Simpson. 


L5 

Still  following  our  old  precedents,  I  have  now 
to  speak  of  the  papers  read  before  us.  Three 
of  these  have  already  been  printed  and  issued 
to  the  Fellows,  by  Count  Lutzow  on  "  The 
Apostles  of  Moravia  and  Bohemia,"  by  Mr.  H. 
Candler  on  "  Lucian  and  His  Times,"  and  by 
Mr.  T.  Sturge  Moore  on  "  The  Best  Poetry"— 
why  it  usually  passes  unobserved,  and  how  we 
may  train  ourselves  to  recognise  it.  Three  other 
papers  will  appear  in  the  forthcoming  issues  of 
our  transactions,  viz.  Prof.  Cowl  on  "  Eighteenth 
Century  Poetry  in  the  Light  of  Twentieth  Cen- 
tury Criticism,"  Mr.  C.  E.  Wade  on  "Nicholas 
Amhurst,"  and  Mr.  J.  Offord  on  "  Recent  Dis- 
coveries of  Classical  Literature,"  supplementing 
and  bringing  up  to  the  present  time  previous 
communications  by  the  same  author. 

But  this  in  no  way  exhausts  the  record  of 
our  activities.  At  public  meetings  convened 
by  our  Academic  Committee  the  services  to 
literature  of  Sir  Alfred  Lyall  and  Mr.  E.  H. 
Pember  have  been  commemorated  by  Mr. 
Prothero  and  Mr.  Courthope  ;  the  centenary  of 
the  birth  of  Robert   Browning  has  been  cele- 


16 

brated  by  addresses  from  Sir  A.  W.  Pinero  and 
Mr.  Henry  James  ;  and  the  de  Polignac  prize 
for  good  literary  work  of  the  previous  year  has 
been  awarded  for  the  first  time,  being  given  to 
Mr.  Walter  de  la  Mare. 

Our  newly  elected  staff  of  professors  have 
entered  upon  their  duties  and  have  delivered 
their  first  lectures :  Mr.  A.  C.  Benson  on 
"  English  Fiction,"  Mr.  W.  L.  Courtney  on 
"  Dramatic  Literature,"  Mr.  M.  A.  Gerothwohl 
on  "  Comparative  Literature,"  and  Mr.  Henry 
Newbolt  on  "  Poetry." 

Ten  days  hence  we  shall  present  to  Mr. 
Thomas  Hardy,  on  the  occasion  of  his  birthday, 
the  Society's  gold  medal,  which  has  been 
awarded  to  him  by  the  Council  on  the  unanimous 
recommendation  of  our  Academic  Committee. 
In  the  years  1823  to  1830  two  gold  medals 
were  annually  awarded  by  the  Society  and  the 
practice  was  recently  renewed,  when  we  awarded 
one  to  G-eorge  Meredith.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  we  do  well  in  offering  this  honour 
to  the  present  President  of  the  Society  of 
Authors,  whose  pre-eminence  among  the  imagi- 


17 

native  writers  of  the  day  is  unchallenged.  It 
may  be  interesting  if  I  repeat  the  list  of  those 
who  were  thus  honoured  in  the  Society's  earlier 
days  : 

WlLLTAM    MlTFORD. 

Angelo  Mai. 

James  Rennell. 

Charles  Wilkins. 

John  Schweighat'skk. 

Dugald  Stuart. 

Walter  Scott. 

Robert  Southev. 

George  Crabbe. 

William  Coxe. 

Antoine  Isaac  Stlvestre  de  Sacy. 

William  Rosooe. 

Washington  Irving. 

Henry  Hallam. 
It  is,  indeed,  a  goodly  company,  to  which  we 
have  now  added  the  names  of  George  Meredith 
and  Thomas  Hardy. 

Having  thus  commented  briefly  upon  the  work 
of  the  past  year,  which  I  am  sure  all  the  Fellows 
must  consider  to  be  satisfactory,  I  propose  to 

o 


18 

offer  a  few  observations  on  the  present  position 
and  the  settled  policy  of  our  Society.  Having 
regard  to  the  well-established  fact  that  George 
the  Fourth  (whom  I  think  I  may  describe  as 
our  Royal  founder)  had  clearly  in  his  intention 
the  creation  of  something  that  should  exercise 
similar  functions  to  those  of  the  French 
Academy,  I  have  sometimes  wondered  why  it 
was  that  he  created  a  Society  and  not  an 
Academy.  To  this  question  I  think  two 
answers  may  be  given.  The  first  is  that  he 
was  well  aware  of  the  success  which  had 
attended  the  two  great  voluntary  societies  in 
England — the  Royal  Society  of  London  and 
the  Society  of  Antiquaries  of  London — and  of 
the  valuable  public  services  those  societies  had 
rendered,  and  that  he  wished  his  new  Society 
to  emulate  these  in  the  domain  of  literature, 
and  to  be  a  sister  society  to  them.  He  may 
have  thought,  and  would  assuredly  have 
thought  rightly,  that  the  freedom  of  a  volun- 
tary society  was  more  in  harmony  with  the 
English  character  and  with  English  habits 
than  the  more  formal  constitution  appropriate 


19 

to  the  creation  of  an  Academy  would  be.  The 
second  answer  I  would  suggest  is  that  by  the 
constitution  which  he  gave  to  his  proposed 
society,  or  which  he  at  least  approved  when  it 
was  submitted  to  him,  but  in  the  framing  of 
which  it  is  my  belief  that  he  took  a  consider- 
able personal  share,  he  contemplated  obtaining 
many  of  the  advantages  of  an  academic  founda- 
tion. Let  me  remind  you  that  he  provided  for 
the  election  by  the  Society  of  ten  persons,  each 
of  them  distinguished  in  some  department  of 
literature,  who  should  be  styled  the  Society's 
Royal  Associates,  and  should  each  receive  an 
allowance  of  £100  a  year  from  the  King's  privy 
purse.  In  addition  to  these  he  provided  for  the 
election  by  the  Society  of  ten  persons,  each  of 
them  distinguished  in  some  department  of  litera- 
t  are,  who  should  be  styled  the  Society's  Honorary 
Associates,  and  should  each  receive  an  allow- 
ance of  £100  a  year  from  the  funds  of  the 
Society.  Every  Royal  and  Honorary  Associate 
was  to  be  required  each  year  to  deliver  a  lecture 
on  the  branch  of  literature  which  he  professed. 
The  Society  was  to  endeavour  to  raise,  by  the 


20 

subscriptions  of  wealthy  supporters,  sufficient 
funds  to  pay  the  allowances  of  its  Honorary 
Associates,  and  thus  to  meet  the  munificent 
endowment  provided  by  the  King  for  his  Royal 
Associates.  What  was  the  meaning  and  inten- 
tion of  this  elaborate  organisation  ?  Surely  this  : 
that  the  Society,  by  selecting  this  body  of 
twenty  men,  the  most  eminent  in  various 
branches  of  literature  that  they  could  find, 
should  act  the  part  of  an  honorific  academy ; 
while  the  twenty  men  themselves  should  con- 
stitute an  academy  of  honour  and  of  teaching. 
While,  therefore,  I  give  some  weight  to  the  first 
answer  which  I  suggested  to  the  problem  before 
us,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the  second 
answer  which  I  now  suggest  is  the  real  one, 
and  that  King  George  thought  that  he  had  by 
this  original  and  ingenious  scheme  combined 
the  advantages  of  a  voluntary  society  with 
those  of  a  teaching  academy. 

What  really  happened  was  this  :  The  Society 
duly  appointed  its  ten  Royal  Associates,  but 
never  raised  sufficient  funds  of  its  own  to  pay  the 
ten  Honorary  Associates,  who  therefore  never 


21 

came  into  being.  The  ten  Royal  Associates 
never  fulfilled  their  obligation  of  delivering  an 
annual  lecture,  though  a  few  of  them  read 
occasional  papers.  Their  functions  as  a  teach- 
ing academy, therefore,  never  came  into  effectual 
existence.  When  King  G-eorge  died  a  few 
years  later  the  allowances  to  the  Royal  Asso- 
ciates, which  had  been  charged  on  his  privy 
purse,  were  not  continued  by  his  successor,  and 
thus  the  whole  scheme  designed  to  promote 
academic  work  fell  through.  It  is  idle  to 
contend  that  this  was  not  a  grave  misfortune 
for  the  Society,  and  I  have  more  than  once 
so  characterised  it.  It  hampered  the  Society's 
operations,  and  to  some  extent  altered  its 
character.  I  offer  no  disparagement  to  the 
work  of  the  distinguished  men  who  have 
adorned  our  ranks  from  that  time  to  the 
present  when  I  say  that,  great  as  their  services 
have  been,  they  have  not  had  the  means  or  the 
opportunity  of  fully  carrying  out  our  founders' 
intention. 

Now,  however,  thanks  in  a  great  measure  to 
the  persuasive  and   organising   genius   of   our 


22 

lamented  friend,  Mr.  Pember,  those  means  and 
that  opportunity  have  been  restored  to  us  in  a 
form  which  I  believe  to  be  even  better  than 
that  devised  by  our  founders.  Our  Academic 
Committee  enables  us  to  fulfil  many  of  the 
functions  conferred  upon  us  by  our  Charter  m 
a  more  satisfactory  manner  than  ever  before. 
In  nominating  the  persons  eminent  in  the 
various  branches  of  literature  of  whom  it  should 
be  constituted,  we  adopted  the  wise  course  of 
inviting  the  assistance  of  that  numerous  and 
important  body,  the  Society  of  Authors,  and 
arranged  that  the  nominations  should  be  made 
in  equal  proportions  by  both  societies.  These 
nominations  were  carefully  considered  and 
fully  discussed  by  a  joint  committee  of  the  two 
societies,  and  in  the  end  a  unanimous  agree- 
ment was  arrived  at  as  to  the  names  of  the 
thirty  persons  that  should  be  invited  to  form 
the  first  Academic  Committee.  The  proposed 
constitution  of  the  Committee  was  then  laid 
before  you  for  final  approval,  and  you  adopted 
the  amendment  in  our  bye-laws  necessary  to 
give  effect  to  it.     That  constitution  presents  to 


•2:) 

my  mind  an  admirable  example  of  a  combina- 
tion of  independence  in  initiative  with  harmony 
and  co-operation  in  action.  The  method  by 
which  the  original  members  were  selected,  and 
the  provision  made  for  filling  vacancies  in  their 
number,  secure  the  permanence  of  an  organisa- 
tion which  will  give  the  public  a  high  degree 
of  confidence  in  our  decisions,  while  the 
necessity  that  each  member  of  the  Academic 
Committee  shall  be  a  Fellow  of  the  Society 
secures  a  community  of  interest  between  that 
Committee  and  our  Council.  I  look  forward 
to  the  time  when  the  two  bodies  will  be 
practically  identical — an  end  to  which  you 
have  largely  contributed  by  electing  to-day  Mr. 
J.  M.  Barrie,  Mr.  Henry  James  (both  Vice- 
Presidents),  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse,  Mr.  Maurice 
Hewlett  and  Mr.  Bernard  Shaw  as  members  of 
the  Council.  There  are  now  eleven  members 
of  the  Academic  Committee  on  the  Council. 
Absolute  identity  may,  perhaps,  not  be  attained, 
for  several  members  of  the  Academic  Committee 
are  Honorary  Fellows  of  the  Society,  and  are 
thus  not  eligible  for  election  on  the  Council ; 


24 

indeed,  there  are  some  persons  eminent  in 
literature  who  do  not  care  to  trouble  them- 
selves with  the  details  of  Council  management ; 
I  nit  a  sufficient  approach  to  identity  has  been 
made  to  show  that  it  is  the  settled  policy 
of  the  Society  and  of  the  Council  to  maintain 
the  fullest  and  frankest  co-operation  with  the 
Academic  Committee.  We  have  thus  had 
restored  to  us  our  Academy  of  Honour.  The 
admirable  suggestion  of  Dr.  Gerothwohl  that  we 
should  renew  our  appointment  of  Professors 
restores  to  us  our  Academy  of  Teaching.  We 
are  now  better  equipped  for  the  fulfilment  of 
our  functions  than  we  have  ever  before  been. 
I  look  with  new  hope  and  new  courage  to  the 
future  of  our  beloved  Society,  which,  I  trust,  may 
continue  its  good  work  for  many  generations  to 
come.  In  the  words  of  our  Fellow,  Professor 
Mackail :  "  The  exponents  of  letters  pass  away  : 
the  Republic  of  Letters  is  immortal." 


20 

The  Secretary,  acting  also  as  Librarian 
H.S.L.,  has  drawn  up  the  following  report 
of  donations  to  the  Library  of  the  Society  since 
the  last  Anniversary.  These  are  classified 
under  the  several  headings  of  Governments  or 
Societies,  Home,  Colonial,  and  Foreign ;  Public 
Institutions,  and  Individual  Donors. 

Societies  and  Public  Institutions. 
Home. 

Royal  Anthropological  Institute. — Journal  to  date. 

East  India  Association. — Journal  to  date. 

Manchester  Geographical  Society. — Journal  to  date. 

Royal     Colonial     Institute.  —  'Journal    of    United 
Empire''  Year  Book,  1912. 

Royal    Dublin     Society. — Proceedings    and    Trans- 
actions. 

Royal  Geographical  Society. — Geographical  Journal 
to  date. 

Royal  Institution   of   Great  Britain. — Proceedings. 

Royal  Irish  Academy. — Transactions  and  Proceedings 
to  date. 

Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh. — Transactions  and  Pro- 
ceedings to  date. 

Society  of  Antiquaries  of  London. — Proceedings  to 
date.     Archxologia,   Vol.    LXII,  Part  II. 


2(3 

Swedenborg  Society.— Transactions  of  the  Inter- 
national Swedenborg  Congress,  London,  1010. 

University  College,  London. — Calendar. 

Royal  Society  oe  Arts. — Journal. 

The  Guildhall,  City  of  London. — Calendar  of  Letter 
Books.  Letter  Book  K.  Temp.  H.  VI.  Edited 
by  Reginald  K.  Sharpe,  D.C.L. 

Governments. 
Colonial. 
New  Zealand. — From  the  Registrar-General.    Statis- 
tics  of   the   Dominion    of    New    Zealand,    1000. 
Official  Year  Books,  1010  and  1011. 

Societies  and  Public  Institutions. 
Colonial. 
Canada,  Dominion  of. — Royal  Society  of  Canada. — 
Proceedings  and  Transactions. 

G-eological    Survey,    Annual    and    Summary 

Reports,  N.S.,  with  Maps. 

Department  of  Mines.    Reports  and  Memoirs, 

Australia. — Royal  Society  of  New  South  Wales. — 
Journal  and  Proceedings. 

New  Zealand. — New  Zealand  Institute. — Transac- 
tions and  Proceedings. 


■27 


Foreign. 

Belgium. — Societe   des   Bollandistes. — Analecta  Bol- 

landiana. 
Denmark. — Royal  Society  of  Northern  Antiquaries, 

Copenhag  i  n . — Me 'moires,  N. S . 
France. — La  Bibliotheque  de  l'Universite  d'Aix. — 

Annates  de  la  Faculte  des  Lettres. 

La   Bibliotheque  Univeesitaire  de  Lille. — 

Revue  Germanique. 

Italy. — Boyal    Academy    op    Sciences,    Turin. — Atti 
and  Memorie,  continued  to  date. 

Royal    Lombard    Institute,    Milan. — Rendi- 

conti,  8°.     Ser.  ii  continued  to  date. 

Mathematical  Society  of    Palermo. — Rendi- 


eonti. 

Russia. — Imperial  Academy  op  Sciences,  St.  Peters- 
burg.— Bulletins. 

Sweden. —  Royal  University  of  Upsala. — Lexicon. 
By  Leonard  Bygdon;  and  other  publications. 

United  States  of  America. — The  Pennsylvania 
Society. — The  William  Penn  Memorial,  1911. 

The  Society  has  received  the  following  from 

individual  donors  : 

Beckett,  Arthur,  Author. — The  Spirit  of  the  Downs. 
Betts,  C.  H.,  Author. — The  Education  of  a  Soul. 
The  Universal  Over-Presence. 


28 

Hi:.  1\.  P.,  Author. — Bengali,  Literary  and  Colloquial. 

Hindustani  at  a  Glance. 

-  The  Open  Sesame  of  English  Synonyms. 

Ditchfield,  Key.  P.  H.,  M.A.,  F.S.A.,  F.B.S.L.,  Author. 
— Ode  on  the  Coronation  of  King  George  V. 

Dorning-Lawrence,  Sik  Edwin,  Bt.,  Author. — The 
Shakespeare  Myth. 

Geddes,  Patrick,  Author. — The  Masque  of  Learning 
and  its  many  Meanings  :  A  Pageant  of  Educa- 
tion through  the  Ages. 

Gordon,  Ella  Mary,  Author. — Songs ;  and  White 
Heather. 

Flashes  and  Reveries. 

Firelight  Fancies. 

Hudson,  Rev.  John,  M.A.,  Author. — Saint  Augustine, 
Bishop  of  Hippo.  The  Seatonian  Prize  Poem 
for  1899. 

Cyrus  and  the  Restoration  of  the  Jews.     The 

Seatonian  Prize  Poem  for  1902. 

The  Dream  of  Pilate's  Wife. 


Lindsay,  James,  D.D.,  Author. — Studies  in  European 
Philosophy. 

Literary  Essays. 

New  Essays,  Literary  and  Philosophical. 

Mackenzie,  A.  S.,  Author. — The  Evolution  of  Litera- 
ture. 

Mitchell,  S.  Weir,  Editor. — Some  Recently  Dis- 
covered Letters  of  William  Harvey,  with  other 
Miscellania. 


29 

Proctor,  Henry,  Author. — Evolution  and  Regenera- 
tion. 
Reid,    The    Rt.    Hon.    Sir    George,    Author.  —  The 

World  of  Matter  and  the  World  of  Mind. 
Soyez-Le-Roy,   Madame    (Tib),    Author. — Amour    et 

Vaillance. 
Sparke,    Archibald,    Transcriber    and    Editor. — The 

Township  Booke  of  Halliwell. 
Stokes,  Margaret. — Early  Christian  Art  in  Ireland. 

Revised    by    Editor — G.    N.    Count    Plunkett, 

F.S.A. 
Terry,  Rev.  G.  F.,  Author. — Memorials  of  the  Church 

of  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  Edinburgh. 
Wille,  Jakob,  Author. — Humanismus  und  Renaissance 

in  Dentschland. 

The  thanks  of  the  Society  are  due  to  the 
respective  Editors  and  Proprietors  of  the 
following  Journals  for  presentation  copies : 
The  Athenaeum  and  the  Edinburgh  Review  to 
date. 

The  subscription  has  been  continued  to  the 
New  English  Dictionary. 

The  list  of  names  recommended  by  the  out- 
going Council  as  the  Officers  and  Council  for 


& 


30 

L912— 13  having  been  submitted  to  ballot,  the 
scrutineers,  Dr.  J.  W.  Knipe  and  Mr.  Arthur 
Macquarie  reported  that  the  House  List  was 
adopted  by  the  meeting.  The  list  will  be  found 
ante,  on  the  leaf  facing  the  commencement  of 
the  Report. 

On  the  motion  of  Professor  Newbolt, 
seconded  by  Mr.  D.  Tollemache,  a  vote  of 
thanks  was  cordially  passed  to  Sir  Edward 
Brabrook  for  his  conduct  in  the  chair. 


THE    ACADEMIC    COMMITTEE. 

Alfred  Austin. 

James  Matthew  Bareie. 

Arthur  Christopher  Benson. 

Laurence  Binyon. 

Andrew  Cecil  Bradley. 

Robert  Bridges. 

Joseph  Conrad. 

William  John  Courthope. 

Austin  Dobson. 

Edward  Dowden. 

James  George  Frazer. 

John  Galsworthy. 

Edmund  Gosse. 

Viscount  Haldane  op  Cloan. 

Thomas  Hardy. 

Maurice  Hewlett. 

Henry  James. 

William  Paton  Ker. 

Andrew  Lang. 

John  William  Mackail. 

Thomas  Sturge  Moore. 

Viscount  Morley. 

George  Gilbert  Murray. 

Henry  Newbolt. 

Sir  Arthur  Wing  Pineko. 

George  W^altek  Froth ero. 

Walter  Raleigh. 

Anne  Isabella,  Lady  Ritchie. 

George  Bernard  Shaw. 

Arthur  Woollgar  Verrall. 

George  Wyndham. 

William  Butler  Yeats. 

Samuel  Henry  Butcher  died  Dec.  29th,  1910. 
Alfred  Comyn  Lyall  died  April  10th,  1911. 
Edward  Henry  Pember  died  April  5th,  1911. 

Percy  W.  Ames, 

Secretary. 


32 


EDMOND   DE    POLIGNAC    PRIZE. 

The  Princess  Edmond  cle  Polignac  lias 
founded  a  Prize  for  the  encouragement  of  litera- 
ture, to  be  called  the  "  Edmond  de  Polignac 
Prize,"  in  memory  of  her  late  husband.  She 
has  made  arrangements  for  its  continuance  for 
five  years  tentatively,  and  has  chosen  the 
Academic  Committee  as  the  instrument  through 
which  her  object  may  be  accomplished.  In 
addition  to  £100  to  be  devoted  annually  to  the 
Prize,  the  Princess  has  generously  founded  an 
endowment  of  £50  a  year  for  the  same  period 
for  other  purposes  of  the  Committee. 

The  following  Rules  of  Procedure  have  been 
drawn  up  by  the  Academic  Committee  and 
approved  by  the  Princess : 

(1)  The  amount  (£100)  shall  be  given  as  a 
single  prize  and  not  divided. 

(2)  The  prize  shall  be  given  to  an  author  in 
respect  of  a  particular  book. 


33 

(3)  The  book  selected  must  have  been  pub- 
lished in  the  calendar  year  ending  on  the  31st 
of  December  preceding  the  award,  which  shall 
be  made  in  November  of  each  year. 

(4)  The  award  shall  have  special  regard  to 
literary  promise. 

(5)  No  author  shall  receive  the  Prize  twice. 

(6)  Books  by  Members  of  the  Academic 
Committee  are  excluded  from  consideration. 

(7)  Applications  or  recommendations  are  not 
invited  and  will  not  be  received. 

(8)  For  the  year  1912  and  thereafter  a 
Reading  Committee  consisting  of  six  members 
shall  be  appointed  to  make  suggestions  to  the 
Academic  Committee ;  at  meetings  three  shall 
constitute  a  quorum ;  two  members  shall  retire 
each  year. 

The  first  award  was  made  at  a  meeting 
held  on  Thursday,  November  23rd,  1911,  Vis- 
count Haldane  of  Cloan  in  the  chair,  to  Mr. 
Walter  de  la  Mare,  for  his  book,  'The  Return.' 

At  the  same  meeting  Commemorative  Ad- 
dresses were  delivered  on  "  Sir  Alfred  Comyn 
Lyall,"  by  Mr.  G.  W.  Prothero,  Litt.D.,  LL.D., 


34 

and  on  "  Edward  Henry  Pember,"  by  Mr.  W.  J. 
Courthope,  C.B.,  D.Litt. 

BROWNING  CENTENARY,  May  7th,  1912. 

A  meeting  was  held  at  Caxton  Hall,  West- 
minster, Mr.  Edmund  Grosse  in  the  chair, 
when  the  following  addresses  were  delivered: 
"Browning  as  a  Dramatist,"  by  Sir  Arthur 
Pinero,  and  "  The  Novel  in  '  The  Ring  and  the 
Book,'  "  by  Mr.  Henry  James. 


35 


FOREIGN    SECRETARY'S   REPORT. 

It  is  gratifying  not  to  have  to  record  the 
loss  by  death  of  any  of  the  members  of  that 
illustrious  body  of  Foreign  Fellows  who  grace 
the  lists  of  our  Society.  Last  year  I  alluded 
to  the  death  of  Signior  Antonio  Fogazzaro,  an 
event  which  took  place  just  before  the  1911 
General  Meeting  of  the  Royal  Society  of 
Literature.  Though  not  desirous  of  further 
emphasising  the  loss  we  have  sustained,  it  may 
be  of  some  interest  to  the  Fellows  if  I  quote  a 
few  words  used  by  a  well-known  Vicentine 
writer  in  alluding  to  the  late  Antonio  Fogazzaro : 

"  II  Tuo  aspetto  maestoso,  il  sorriso  gentile, 
l'affabilita  e  bonta  senza  limiti,  Ti  rendevano 
caro  e  simpatico  a  tutti.  Tu  alieno  dai  fasti 
del  mondo,  amante  clella  solitudine,  nobile  di 
pensiero,  sublime  nell'  arte,  santamente  chiudevi 
il  corso  duna  vita  operosa." 

The  sentiment  is  not  too  strong,  and  no  one 
who   has  had  the   privilege   of  knowing  that 


80 

remarkable  writer  will  ever  forget  the  great- 
ness of  his  personality. 

The    world    of    letters,    however,    has    lost 
several  literary  lights  who  could  ill  be  spared. 
In  Germany  Heinrich  Kampchen,  whose  poems 
appealed  to  all  his  readers  in  consequence  of 
the    noble    spirit    and    the    greatness    of    the 
purpose  which  permeated  them,  and  the  well- 
known  biographical  writer  Dr.  Etlinger,  as  well 
as  the   dramatist  Professor   Felix   Dahn,  who 
had    just    completed    his    historical    romance 
'  Konig   Roderick,'    have    passed    away.      Nor 
must  we  omit  the  name  of  August  Strindberg, 
the  great  Swedish  author,  who  leaves  behind 
him  an  immense  amount  of  dramatic  and  other 
literature. 

In  Russia  the  idealist  Zlatovratski,  a  writer 
of  peasant  life  stories,  and  a  man  deeply  versed 
in  folk-lore,  has  quite  recently  gone  to  his  rest. 
Italy,  too,  mourns  another  of  her  most  pro- 
mising sons,  Mario  Rapisardi,  the  Sicilian  poet, 
who  died  at  the  end  of  last  year.  He  wras 
brought  to  the  notice  of  the  reading  world  by 
his  attack   on   Carducci,   and  much  was    pro- 


37 

phesiecl  about  him.  France  has  lost  by  the 
death  of  Mademoiselle  Colette  Yver  a  charming 
writer  of  fiction. 

We  turn  from  the  contemplation  of  the 
literary  heroes  who  have  passed  away  to  the 
living  whom  we  may  still  prize  and  honour. 
During  the  past  year  there  has  been  no  lack  of 
notable  books  produced  on  the  Continent. 

With  regard  to  France,  we  are  bound  to 
place  in  the  forefront  the  erudite  production  of 
Henri  Vignaud,  which  has  just  been  "crowned" 
by  the  "  Institute."  His  would  seem  to  be  almost 
the  last  word  on  the  hitherto  somewhat  obscure 
subject  of  the  life  and  works  of  Christopher 
Col  ambus.  On  the  same  level  I  would  place 
*  Trois  Drames  de  l'histoire  de  Russie '  and 
'  Histoire  Orientales,'  just  published,  the  latest 
works  of  the  Vicomte  E.  M.  de  Vogue,  one  of 
the  greatest  of  living  French  historians.  It 
may  also  be  worth  while  to  draw  attention  to  a 
book  published  this  year  by  Arthur  Chuquet 
entitled  'La  Campagne  de  1812.'  M.  Chuquet 
is  one  of  the  younger  generation  of  writers  who 
bids  fair  to  rise  to  distinction,  and  since  the 


38 

primary  object  of  the  founder  of  the  Royal 
Society  of  Literature  was  to  seek  out  and  assist 
such  men,  I  feel  hound  to  note  their  names. 
A  book  that  has  caused  a  good  deal  of  comment 
in  France  is  Emile  Olivier's'  L'Empire  Liberal — 
Etions  nous  prets?'  It  is  a  critical  study  of  the 
Franco-German  War  of  1870,  and  has  caused 
no  small  stir  in  military  circles. 

Foris  Delatre,  in  his  erudite  biography  of 
Robert  Herrick,  shows  considerable  charm  of 
style.  M.  Lafenestre,  an  enthusiastic  writer, 
has  published  a  most  interesting  work  entitled, 
'  St.  Francois  d' Assise  et  Savonarola.'  He 
endeavours  to  prove  that  these  two  men  were 
the  real  inspirers  of  Italian  art.  All  Europe 
congratulates  M.  Gabriel  Hanotaux  on  his 
popular  work  '  Jeanne  D'Arc,'  as  well  as  on  his 
equally  important  historical  production,  '  La 
Fleur  des  Histoires  Francaises.' 

Our  Foreign  Fellow,  Dr.  Paul  Sabatier,  has 
during  the  year  contributed  a  monograph  to 
which  he  gives  the  explanatory  title,  'L'Orien- 
tation  Religieuse,'  in  addition  to  '  Franciscan 
Essays,'  and   'Apropos  de   la    separation    des 


39 

Eg-lises  et  de  l'etat,'  The  latter  has  a 
distinct  interest  to  English  readers  at  the 
moment.  The  world  of  fiction  is  well  repre- 
sented by  'Pelerin  d' Angkor,'  from  the  facile 
pen  of  Pierre  Loti,  and  by  'La  Serre  de 
l'Aigle'  and  '  Ponr  tuer  Buonaparte,'  whose 
author,  George  Ohnet,  is  at  present  in  the 
forefront  of  the  French  literary  world.  The 
two  novels  which  have  been  produced  by 
Victor  Marguerite,  a  new  writer,  iudicate  no 
small  promise  for  the  future. 

In  Germany  much  has  been  done.  I  have 
already  alluded  to  the  poetry  of  the  late 
Heinrich  Kampchen.  As  might  be  expected  of 
such  a  writer,  Sudermann's  '  Bettler  von 
Syrakus '  has  found  a  considerable  amount  of 
appreciation  in  Berlin.  Professor  W.  J .  Jaeger 
has  given  to  the  student  world  a  most  learned 
work  called  '  Studien  von  Enstehungsgeschichte 
der  Metaphysik  des  Aristotles,'  in  which  he 
endeavours  to  show  that,  far  from  our  having 
all  the  writings  of  Aristotle,  only  a  mere 
fragment  of  his  work  is  extant.  Dr.  Eduard 
Meyer,  who  is  always  thoughtful,  in  his  instruc- 


40 

tive  book,  '  Der  Papyrus  Fund  von  Elephan- 
tine,' has  elaborately  worked  out  the  theory 
that  Persia  played  no  inconsiderable  part  in  the 
external  development  of  the  Jewish  religion. 
This  book  is  extremely  interesting,  and  deserves 
all  the  appreciation  it  has  already  obtained. 
Joseph  Hansen,  a  writer  known  for  his  careful 
research,  has  published  a  really  exhaustive 
work  on  the  subject  of  the  treatment  of 
witches  during  the  middle  ages.  Arnold 
Meyer  has  produced  a  no  less  able  work 
under  the  descriptive  title  of  '  Studien  zur 
Vorgeschichte  der  Reformation.' 

To  an  English  society,  especially  in  such 
days  as  these,  it  would  be  unfair  not  to 
allude  to  the  work  of  Eduard  Bernstein.  In 
'  Sozialismus  und  Demokratie  in  der  eroszen 
Englischen  Revolution  '  he  deals  in  a  forceful 
manner  with  many  modern-day  problems,  and 
the  character  sketches  which  he  presents  of 
Cromwell,  Milton,  and  others  of  that  period, 
are,  if  not  quite  accurate,  at  least  most  interest- 
ing. 

Dr.  Brandl,  whose  pen  is  never  idle,  has  not 


41 

only  delivered  lectures  in  Oxford,  but  has  con- 
tributed no  little  to  a  good  understanding 
between  German  Governmental  authorities  and 
our  own  by  his  much-read  article  on  Lord 
Haldane,  entitled  '  Der  Englische  Kriegs- 
minister  und  die  Deutschen  Universitaten.' 
The  work  is  one  which  shows  the  writer  to  be 
at  least  an  admirer  of  our  ancient  University 
of  Oxford.  The  same  writer  has  published  a 
brochure  called  '  Chartisten,  Socialisten  und 
Carlyle,'   in    which   he    shows  the    attitude    of 

the  '  Seer  of  Chelsea'  to  the  movements  which 

i 
are  stirring  us  to-day. 

Amongst  the  more  important  works  of  fiction 
I  draw  attention  to  Friedrich  JacobsonV  Kantor 
Liebe,'  full  of  deep  emotion. 

In  Italy,  D'Annuncio  has  received  a  degree 
of  appreciation  rarely  accorded  to  modern-day 
writers.  He  has  quite  recently  published 
'  Canzioni  della  Gesta  Oltramare.'  Beautiful 
indeed  they  are  as  regards  form,  but  to  many 
lacking  in  healthy  ideals.  His  latest  novel, 
'  Forse  Che  se  Forse  Che  no,'  shows  how 
versatile  is  his  genius.     Giacoma,  probably  the 


42 

favourite  dramatic  writer  of  Italy,  has  not  only 
written,  but  lias  successfully  staged  no  fewer 
than  four  plays—"  San  Francisco,"  "  0  Voto," 
"Asunta  Spina,"  "0  Mese  Mariano." 

Two  Italian  authors  have  recently  written 
on  subjects  of  no  small  interest  to  the  thought- 
ful English  reader.  "  Uno  Stuart  a  Milano  nel 
Settecento,"  by  Giulini,  in  the  'Archivo  Storico 
Lombardo,'  has  unveiled  the  history  of  another 
member  of  the  Stuart  family.  Carlo  Sagre, 
in  addition  to  his  studies  of  Petrarch,  has  written 
two  valuable  works  summing  up  what  has  been 
discovered  up  to  the  present  on  the  subject  of 
early  English  and  Italian  influences,  and 
showing  the  close  relations  between  the  litera- 
ture of  this  country  and  Italian  writers. 
These  works  are  respectively  '  Italia  e  Inghil- 
terra'  and  '  Relazione  Litterarie  fra  Italia  e 
Inghilterra.' 

As  regards  Spain,  a  new  movement  seems  to 
have  set  in,  and  a  considerable  number  of 
aspirants  for  literary  fame  have  appeared,  many 
of  whom  seem  destined  to  "put  into  the  shade  " 
the  older  writers.      As  an  illustration  of  this, 


43 

whilst  Carlos  Villaneuva,  one  of  the  best 
accounted  of  Spain's  historians,  has  brought 
out  '  Fernando  VII '  and  '  Bolivar  y  el 
General,'  a  young  writer,  Fernando  Ortiz, 
vies  with  him  for  popular  honours  in  the 
latter's  first  great  work,  '  La  Reconquista  de 
Amerika.' 

In  the  same  way  the  novel  writer,  Blasco 
Ibanez,  who  has  hitherto  held  his  own,  finds  a 
rival  to  his  own  books,  '  Aroz  y  Tartana  '  and 
'Horda,'  in  'Las  Inquietudas  di  Shanti  Andia' 
and  'Cesar  O'Nada,'  by  the  hitherto  almost 
unknown  writer,  Pio  Barojo. 

In  Portugal  a  somewhat  similar  state  of 
affairs  would  seem  to  have  been  brought  about, 
though  the  elder  writers  are  holding  their 
vantage  ground  more  successfully.  Our  own 
honoured  Fellow,  Senor  Theophilo  Braga, 
ex-President  of  the  Portuguese  Republic,  has 
given  us  a  work  both  of  weight  and  true  merit. 
The  release  of  such  a  thinker  from  the  cares 
of  statecraft  to  the  calm  of  literary  production 
has  resulted  in  '  Parnass  Portuguez  Moderno.' 
Another  writer  of  the  same  stamp,  Enrico  de 


u 

Sabra,  has  published  '  Oiro  do  Brazil '  and 
'  Mulheres  de  Portugal.'  The  splendid  style 
of  this  writer  and  his  fine  patriotic  spirit  are 
self-evident.  Amongst  writers  of  fiction  Louis 
de  Camoes  still  stands  out  prominently  with  his 
'  Os  Lusiadas,'  but  of  Portuguese  authors  the 
one  who  appeals  most  strongly  to  the  English 
man  of  letters  is  Julio  Diniz.  Passing  over  his 
poems  we  come  to  the  four  most  recent  tales, 
the  last  of  which  has  peculiar  interest  for  us, 
'  Una  Familia  Ingleza,'  a  book  which  has  been 
largely  read  and  commented  on. 

Amongst  Russian  literary  productions  two  at 
least  are  of  considerable  value.  Under  the 
title  of  '  Sashka  Tigulev'  Leonid  Andreiev  tells 
the  story  of  a  sensitive  boy  under  the  influence 
of  the  Russian  military  system  of  Government. 
In  this  powerful  psychological  study  he  traces 
the  various  phases  through  which  the  boy's 
character  passes,  until  at  last  the  tender,  sensi- 
tive youth  emerges  a  fanatical  terrorist.  This 
writer,  who  for  a  time  had  abandoned  realism 
for  mysticism,  has  evidently  returned  to  his 
"first  love."     A  work  of  equal  importance  as 


45 

indicating  the  tendency  of  Russian  thought 
was  recently  published  by  N.  KapterifF,  entitled 
'The  Patiarch  Nikon  and  the  Tzar  Alexis 
Michaelovitch.'  The  writer  of  this  book  has 
ventured  to  express  broad  views  and  to 
advocate  liberal  religious  opinions.  Whilst 
he  has  had  a  large  share  of  secret  appreciation 
and  sympathy  his  courage  has  cost  him  public 
honours. 

In  Denmark  our  Foreign  Fellow,  Georg 
Brandes,  of  world-wide  reputation,  has  brought 
out  a  new  edition  of  his  translation  of  Shake- 
speare, together  with  copious  notes.  This  edition 
has  met  with  universal  approval.  Sophus 
Michaelis  has  written  several  plays,  which 
have  been  translated  into  English,  and 
which  have  been  staged  in  America,  whilst 
Karin  Michaelis,  his  wife,  has  had  the  satis- 
faction of  knowing  that  her  novel,  '  The 
Dangerous  Age,'  possibly  somewhat  too  morbid 
and  introspective,  has  been  the  most  widely 
read  and  discussed  book  in  Denmark,  if 
not  in  neighbouring  countries.  Of  the  pro- 
ductivity in  literary  matters  of  Selma  Lager- 


46 

loff  much  might  be  said,  but  during  the  last 
year  alone,  she,  the  most  eminent  of  modern 
Swedish  writers,  has  published  no  fewer  than 
five  separate  works  of  fiction. 

Count  Lutzow,  whose  patriotic  aspirations 
are  so  well  known  in  this  country,  has  added 
yet  another  to  the  numerous  works  with  which 
he  has  endowed  the  Bohemian  peoples,  by 
publishing  his  lectures  delivered  in  America, 
'  The  Czechs  in  Bohemia.'  Before  closing-  this 
retrospect,  though  it  may  seem  a  far-off  cry,  I 
cannot  omit  a  work  which  conies  to  us  from 
Corsica,  'La  Chanson  Populaire  de  l'lle  de 
Corse.'  The  book  points  to  a  renewal  of  Corsican 
literature.  The  poems  are  either  '  Voceri'  (fierce 
expressions  of  poignant  grief  which  knows  no 
resignation),  or  'Vendetta'  (outbursts  of  re- 
vengeful song,  fierce  and  primitive). 

During  the  year  no  new  Foreign  Fellows 
have  been  added  to  the  list,  but  it  is  probable 
that  ere  long  some  new  names  will  be  submitted 
to  the  Council. 

I  have  made  at  least  two  visits  during  the 
year  to  the   Continent  in    order  to   meet  and 


47 

discuss  matters  with  our  Foreign  Fellows.  I 
had  the  pleasure,  amongst  others,  of  spending 
a  short  time  with  Count  Lutzow,  whose 
acquaintance  is  one  which  I  deeply  value.  I 
have  also  recently  visited  that  eminent  worker 
in  the  common  cause,  Professor  Dr.  Brandl, 
and  had  the  pleasure  of  staying  with  him  in  his 
Tyrolese  country  home. 

In  conclusion,  I  cannot  refrain  from  express- 
ing the  hope  that  the  Council  will  do  something 
more  than  has  yet  been  done  to  attract  those 
whom  we  delight  to  honour  as  Foreign  Fellows 
to  visit  us  in  London. 

English  literature  may  possibly  need  just 
that  contact  with  the  personal  life  of  the 
Continent — so  much  fresher  and  brighter  than 
our  own — to  give  it  the  uplifting  quality  which 
a  great  politician  has  just  demanded  of  it 
as  an  essential  part  of  its  equipment. 

H.  G.  Rosbdalk,  D.D. 


48 


FELLOWS   OF   THE    SOCIETY. 


The  sigu  +  indicates  an  Honorary  Fellow,     c  =  a  Compounder. 


Year  of 
election. 

1894.  -j-Her  Royal  Highness  the  Duchess  of  Albany. 

1910.  A.  F.  M.  Abdul  Ali,  Esq.,  M.A.,  M.R.A.S., 
F.R.Hist.S.,  Editor  of  'Journal  of  the  Moslem 
Institute  '  (Calcutta) ,  Deputy  Magistrate  and 
Collector,  Eastern  Bengal  and  Assam,  Rangpur, 
East  Bengal,  India. 

1899.  Robert  Vickery  Allen,  Esq.,  A.C.P.,  F.E.I.S., 
Gi-uilden  Morden,  Royston,  Hertfordshire. 

1878.  cPercy  Willoughby  Ames,  Esq.,  L.L.D.,  F.S.A., 
Secretary  aud  Librarian,  71,  Lewisham  Park, 
S.E.  ;  and  Authors'  Club. 

1907.  The  Right  Hon.  Sir  William  Reynell  Anson, 
Bt„  D.C.L.,  M.P.,  Warden  of  All  Souls  College, 
Oxford  ;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1910.  fALFRED  Austin,  Esq.,  Poet  Laureate,  Member  of 
Academic  Committee,  Swinford  Old  Manor,  Ash- 
ford,  Kent. 

1903.  1-The  Right  Hon.  Lord  Avebury,  D.C.L.,  LL.D., 
F.R.S.,  48,  G-rosvenor  Street,  W.  ;  High  Elms, 
Down,  Kent ;  aud  Athenaeum  Club. 


49 

Year  of 
election. 
1868.     William  E.  A.  Axon.  Esq.,  LL.D.,  42,  Richmond 

Grove,  Manchester. 

1901.     Rev.  Albert  Bage,  Ph.B.,  The  Manse,  Romsey, 

Hants. 

1904.  Frederic  William  Banks,   Esq.,  83,   Eccleston 

Square,  S.W. ;  Junior  Constitutional  Club. 
1903.  fREV.  S.  Baring-Gould,  M.A.,  J  P.,  Rector  of  Lew- 

Trenchardj  Lew-Trenchard  House,  N.  Devon. 
1912.     James    Matthew    Barrie,    Esq.,    M.A.,   LL.D  , 

Vice-President ;  Member  of  Academic  Committei . 

3,  Adelphi  Terrace  House,  Strand,  W.C. 
1912.     Arthur     William    Beckett,     Esq.,    Anderida, 

Hartfield  Road,  Eastbourne;  and  Authors'  Club. 
1907.     Professor  Arthur  Christopher  Benson, C.V.O.. 

M.A.,  E.R.Hist.S.,  Fellow  of  Magdalene  College. 

Vice-President  ,■  Member  of  Academic  Committee  ; 

B.S.L.  Professor  of  English  Fiction  ;  Magdalene 

College,  Cambridge;  Hinton  Hall,  Haddenbam. 

Isle  of  Ely  ;  Tremans,  Horsted  Keynes,  Sussex  ; 

and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1905.  The  Ven.  Henry  E.  J.  Bevan,  MA,  Archdeacon 

of  Middlesex,  The  Rectory,  Chelsea,  S.W.: 
Quatford  Castle,  Bridgenorth,  Shropshire. 

1910.  fEAURENCE  Binyon,  Esq.,  Member  of  Academic 
Committee,  118,  Belgrave  Road,  S.W. ;  and 
British  Museum. 

1907.  William  Blackwood,  Esq.,  Editor  of  'Black- 
wood's Magazine,'  45,  Geoi-ge  Street,  Edinburgh. 

4 


50 

Year  of  . 

("lection. 

1907.     Reginald  Blomfield,  Esq.,  A.R.A.,  M.A.,  F.S.A., 

51.    Frognal,   Hampstead,   N.W. ;    Point   Hill, 

Playden,  Sussex;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 
1902.     Dr.  William  A.  Bowen,  LL.B.,  M.B.,  Mombasa, 

East  Africa. 
1865.  cSir    Edward    Brabrook,    C.B.,    Dir.S.A.,    past 

President    of    the    Anthropological    Institute. 

Vice-President  and  Treasurer,  Athenaeum  Club, 

Pall  Mall,  S.W. 
1898.     Charles     Angell      Bradford,     Esq.,     F.S.A., 

Auditor,    4,    Park    Place,    St.    James's    Street, 

S.W. 
1910.  tANDREw  Cecil  Bradley,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  Litt.D., 

Professor  of  Poetry,  Oxford,  1901-1906,  Member 

of  Academic   Committee,  9,    Edwardes    Squai'e, 

Kensington,  W. 

1910.  fEoBERT  Bridges,    Esq.,    M.A..    M.B.,    F.R.C.P.. 

Member  of  Academic  Committee,  Chilswell, 
Oxford. 
1902.  cJohn  Potter  Briscoe,  Esq.,  F.R.Hist.S., 
F.L.A.,  City  Librarian  of  Nottingham,  Central 
Free  Public  Library,  Nottingham  ;  Elm  Villa. 
38,  Addison  Street,  Nottingham. 

1911.  John  Arthur  Brooke,  Esq.,  The  Lea,  Grasmere. 
1894.  fE,EV.  Stopford  Augustus  Brooke,  M.A.,  LL.D., 

1,  Manchester  Square;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 
1907.     P.   Hume  Brown,  Esq.,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  Professor 
of  Ancient  (Scottish)  History  and  Palaeography 
in  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  20,  Corrennie 
Gardens,  Edinburgh. 


51 

Year  of 

election. 

1907.     The  Right  Hon.  Lord  Burghclere,  P.O.,  D.L., 

M.A.,  48,   Charles  Street,  W. ;   Fitzroy  Place, 

Surrey  ;  and  Brooks's  Club. 
1904.     Thomas  Burns,  Esq.,  25,  Diana  Street,  Newcastle- 

upon-Tyne. 
1911.     Howard    Candler,     Esq.,    M.A.,    7,    Briardale 

Gardens,  Hampstead,  N.W. 
1907.     The    Right    Rev.    Bishop   Carpenter,    D.C.L., 

D.D.,     2,     Morpeth     Mansions,     S.W. ;      and 

Athenaeum  Club. 
1900.     Major  W.   Boughton    Chambers,    Inspector   of 

Factories,  Custom  House,  Bombay. 

1899.  fERNEST   Hartley   Coleridge,    Esq.,    M.A.,    12, 

Rickford's  Hill,  Aylesbury,  Bucks. 
1910.  f  Joseph  Conrad,  Esq.,  Member  of  Academic  Com- 
mittee, Oapel  House,  Orlestone,  near  Ashford. 

1906.  Richard  Cooke,  Esq.,  A.  and  M.C.P.,  F.R.G.S., 

Archbishop  Abbot's  School,  Guildford. 
1892.     Stanley  Cooper,  Esq.,  27,  Banbury  Road,  Oxford. 

1900.  cRev.    W.   Hargreaves   Cooper,    F.R.G.S.,    Sid- 

lands,  Camborne. 

1901.  cRev.     Frederick      StJohn      Corbett,      M.A., 

F.R.Hist.S.,  The  Rectory,  St,  Georo-e-m-the- 
East,  London. 

1907.  William    John    Courthope,  Esq.,  C.B.,    M.A., 

D.Litt.,  LL.D.,  late  Professor  of  Poetry  in  the 
University  of  Oxford,  Civil  Service  Commis- 
sioner (retired),  Vice-President;  Member  of 
Academic  Committee,  The  Lodge,  Wadhurst, 
Sussex  ;  and  Athenteum  Club. 


52 

Year  of 
election. 

1907.  Professor  William  Leonard  Courtney,  M.A., 

LL.D.,  Fellow  of  New  College,  Oxford.  Editor 
of  the  'Fortnightly  Eeview,'  Vice-President; 
B.S.L.  Professor  of  Dramatic  Literature,  53, 
Gordon  Square.  W.C. ;  and  Authors'  Club. 

1911.  Professor  Eichard  Pape  Cowl,  M.A.,  Research 

Professor  of  English  Literature,  University  oi 
Bristol,  15,  Bedford  Place,  W.C.  ;  and  Authors" 
Club. 

1903.  fS.  R.  Crockett,  Esq.,  M.A.,  c/o  A.  P.  Watt  and 

Son,  Hastings  House,  Norfolk  Street.  W.C.  : 
and  Authors'  Club. 

1890.  cJames  Curtis,  Esq.,  E.S.A..  Council  (Vice-Presi- 
dent, 1898-1909),  179,  Marylebone  Road,N.W.; 
Redcourt,  Christchurch  Park,  Sutton.  Surrey  ; 
and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1912.  Rev.  Edgar  Daplyn,  30,  Pattison  Road,  N.W. 

1904.  John  Herbert  Dawson,  Esq.,  Ill,  Lower  Seedley 

Road,  Seedley,  Manchester. 

1903.  Miss  Violet  Defries,  71,  Leith  Mansions,  Elgin 
Avenue,  Maid  a  Vale,  W. 

1908.  Rev.  Peter  Hampson  Ditchfield,  M.A.,  F.S.A.. 

Council,  Bark  ham  Rectory,  Wokingham,  Berks; 
and  Authors'  Club. 

1907.     Austin    Dobson,    Esq.,    LL.D.,     Vice-President; 

Member  of  Academic  Committee,  75,  Eaton  Rise, 
Ealing,  W. ;  and  Atheineum  Club. 


53 

Year  of 
election. 

1903.  Professor  Edward  Dowden,M.A.,LL.D.,D.C.L.. 
Litt.D.,  Member  of  Academic  Committee,  Pro- 
lessor  of  English  Literature  in  the  University  of 
Dublin,  Rockdale,  Orwell  Road,  Eathgar, Dublin. 

1907.  Sir  Charles  Norton  Edgecumbe  Eliot,  C.B., 
K.C.M.G.,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford. 
Principal,  Hong  Kong  University. 

1900.  Lady  C.  Ella  Eve,  61,  Harley  Street,  Cavendish 
Square,  W. 

1900.  oCharles  Frederick  Forshaw,  Esq.,  LL.D., 
D.C.L  ,  F.R.M.S.,  29,  Hanover  Square,  Brad- 
ford. 

1905.  A.    E.    Manning    Foster,    Esq.,    2,   Collinghani 

Gardens,  S.W. 
1907.     William  Warde   Fowler,    Esq.,  M.A.,  D.Litt., 
Fellow  and  Tutor  of  Lincoln  College,  Oxford. 
Kingham,  Chipping  Norton ;   and  Oxford  and 
Cambridge  Club. 

1897.  Arnold  Francke,  Esq.,  28,  Mark  Lane,  E.C. 

1898.  fPROFEssoR  J.   G.  Frazer,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  D.Litt. 

D.C.L.,   Member   of   Academic    Committee,   St. 
Keynes,  Cambridge. 

1906.  cHis  Highness  Maharaja  Sayajiras  Gaekwar, 

Ruling  Prince  of  Baroda,  Baroda,  India. 
1892.  cShrimant     Sampatrao     K.    Gaikwad,     M.R.I. , 

M.R.A  S.,  F.R.C.I.,  Baroda,  India. 
1912.  fJoHN    Galsworthy,    Esq.,   Member   of  Academic 

Committee,  14,  Addison  Road,  W. 


54 

Year  of 
election. 

1912.  Charles  Garvice,  Esq.,  Chairman  of  Authors' 
Club,  4,  Maids  of  Honour  Row,  Richmond, 
Surrey  ;  and  Royal  Societies'  Club. 

1902.  Arthur  Harold  Garstang,  Esq.,  82.  Forest 
Road,  Southport. 

1883.  William  Blacheord  Gedge,  Esq.,  c/o  Messrs. 
Pope  &  Plante,  14,  Piccadilly  Arcade,  W. 

1902.  Professor  Maurice  A.  Gerothwohl,  Litt.D., 
University  of  Bristol,  Council;  B.  8. L.  Professor 

of   Comparative    Literature,   8,    Alma    Terrace. 
Kensington,  W. 

1901.  Mrs.  Ella  Mary  Gordon,  LL.D.,  D.Litt,  M.S.A., 
Arnlee,  Pitfodels,  Aberdeenshire;  and  Aucbin- 
toul,  Aboyne. 

1907.  Edmund  Gosse,  Esq.,  C.B.,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  Librarian 
to  the  House  of  Lords,  Council;  Member  of 
Academic  Committee,  17,  Hanover  Terrace. 
Regent's  Park,  IST.W. ;  and  Savile  Club. 

1911.  Rev.  A.  W.  Gough,  M.A.,  The  Vicarage, 
Brornpton,  S.W. 

1892.  The  Hon.  James  Maclaren  Stuart  Gray, 
Master  of  Gray,  c/o  Robert  Todd,  Esq.,  The 
Limes,  Tradley  Green,  High  Barnet,  N.  ; 
Cwmeron,  Llanwrtyd  Wells,  R.S.O.,  S.  Wales. 

1898.  Emanuel  Green,  Esq.,  F.S.A.,  Council,  4,  Albe- 
marle Street,  W. ;  and  Reform  Club. 


55 

Year  of 
election. 

1907.     William    Henry   Hadow,   Esq.,   M.A.,   D.Mus., 

Principal,  Armstrong  College,  Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne;  South  Cerney,  Cirencester ;  and  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  Club. 

1897  Heinrich  Maria  Hain,  Esq.,  Ph.D.,  M.C.P., 
Wilhelmj  House,  2,  Clarence  Terrace,  Leaming- 
ton Spa. 

1910.  fPuT.  Hon.  Viscount  Haldane  of  Cloan.  F.R.S.. 
LL.D.,  Lord  High  Chancellor,  Rector  of  Edin- 
burgh University,  Member  of  Academic  Com- 
mittee, Cloanden,  Auchterarder,  Perthshire;  28, 
Queen  Anne's  Gate,  S.W. ;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1880.  The  Eight  Hon.  the  Earl  of  Halsbury,  F.R.S., 
D.C.L.,  High  Steward  of  the  University  of 
Oxford,  President,  4,  Enmsniore  Gardens. 
Princes  Gate,  S.W.  ;  and  Athenaeum   Club. 

1906.  Rev.  William  Parker  Hanks, M. A.,  13,Ladbroke 

Gardens,  W. 

1907.  Thomas  Hardy,  Esq.,  O.M.,  LL.D.,  J.P.,  Member 

of  Academic  Committee,  Max  Gate,  Dorchester: 

and  Athenaeum  Club. 
1865.  cRev.  Albert  Augustus  Harland,  M.A.,  P.S.A., 

HareHeld  Vicarage,  Uxbridge. 
1909.     John  Martin  Harvey,  Esq.,  30,  Avenue  Road, 

Regent's  Park,  N.W. 
1904.     William    Hatfield,    Esq.,    A.C.P.,    2,    Crosby 

Street,  Stockport. 
1907.     Rev.  William  Augustus  Heard,   M.A.,  LL.D., 

Headmaster   of    Fettes    College.     The   Lodge, 

Fettes  College.  Edinburgh. 


56 

Year  of 
election. 

L883.     Sir  John  Hennikek  Heaton,  Bt.  (Vice-President 

1899-1908),  The  Carlton  Club,  Pall  Mall,  S.W. 
L885.     J.   Stewart  Henderson,  Esq.,  F. E.G. S.,  1,  Pond 

Street,  Hampstead,  N.W. 
1907.     Rev.  Herbert  Hensley  Henson,  B.D.,   Rector 

of  St.  Margaret's  and  Canon   of   Westminster 

Abbev,  17,  Dean's  Yard,  Westminster. 
1868.  cRev.  C.    A.    Heurtley,    M.A.,   193,   Woodstock 

Road,  Oxford. 
1907.     Maurice    Hewlett,   Esq.,    Council;    Member   of 

Academic     Committee,     7,    Northwick    Terrace, 

N.W.  ;  Old  Rectory,  Broad  Chalk,  Salisbury. 
1889.     Mrs.  Napier  Higgins,  24,  The  Boltons,  S.W. 
1904.     J.  A.  Howard-Watson,  Esq.,  F.R.G.S.,F.R.Hist.S., 

12,  Waterloo  Road,  Waterloo,  Liverpool. 
1911.     Rev.    John    Hudson,    M.A.,    325,    Southampton 

Street,  Camberwell,  S.E. 
1906.     George     Humphreys  -  Davies,      Esq.,     M.R.I. , 

M.R.S.A.,  5,  Laurence  Pountney  Lane,  Cannon 

Street,  E.C. 

1906.  Charles    Hyatt- Woolf,    Esq.,    F.R.P.S.,    169, 

Queen's  Gate,  S.W. 
1880.     H.  M.  Imbert-Terry,  Esq.,  Council,  Strete  Ralegh, 
Exeter  ;  and  Carlton  Club. 

1907.  Henry     James,     Esq.,    D.Litt.,     Vice-President; 

Member  of  Academic  Committee,  Lamb  House. 
Rye,  Sussex  ;  and  Athenseum  Club. 
1901.     Joseph  James,   Esq.,  D.Sc.,    Ph.D.,    18,   Witton 
Road,  Victoria,  S.W. 


•  )/ 

Year  of 

election. 

1910.  f  William  Paton  Kek.  Esq..  M.A.,  Professor  of 
English  Literature,  University  College,  London, 
Member  of  Academic  Committee,  95,  Gower 
Street,  W.C. ;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1901.  cEev.    Philip  Henry    Kirkh.oi,    M.A.,   M.S.A., 

S.  Luke's  S.P.G.,  Toungoo,  Burma. 

1899.  cErnest  Kiver,  Esq..  F.R.C.O.,  A.R.A  M.,  A.Ph.S., 
Professor  at  the  Royal  Academy  of  Music 
"Bayfield,"  Upper  Warlingham,  Surrey. 

1897.  Joseph  William  Knipe,  Esq.,  Pli.D.,  L.C.P., 
Wolsey  Hall,  Oxford  ;  and  Authors'  Club. 

1902.  J.  J.  Lane,  Esq.,  Municipal  Offices,  Bvighouse. 
1910.  f  Andrew  Lang,  Esq.,  D.Litt.,  Member  of  Academic 

Committee,  1,  Marloes  Road,  W.;  and  Athenaeum 

Club. 
1892.     James    Lauder,    Esq.,    F.E.I.S.,    The    Glasgow 

Athenaeum,  Glasgow. 
181*8.     John  Letts,  Esq.,  8,  Bartlett's  Buildings,  Holborn 

Circus,  E.C. 
1889.     Major  J.  A.  Liebmann,  F.R.G.S.,  P.O.  Box  1113, 

Cape  Town,  S.  Africa. 
1895.     William   Douw    Lighthall,   Esq.,   K.C.,  M.A., 

Chateauelair,  Westmount,  Montreal,  Canada. 
1  910.     Rev.  James  Lindsay,  D.D.,  M.A.,  B.Sc,  F.R.S.E., 

Annick  Lodge,  Irvine,   Ayrshire ;    and  Broad- 
stone,  Stranraer,  Wigtownshire. 
1900.     Percy  George  Lodge,  Esq.,  M.D.,  F  R.C.S,  Lee 

House,  Listerhills,  Bradford. 


Year  of 
elect  inn. 

1907.  Rev.  the  Hon.  Edward  Lyttelton,  M.A.,  Head- 
master of  Eton,  Hon.  Canon  of  St.  Albans, 
The  Cloisters,  Eton  College,  Windsor. 

1907.  John  William  Mackail,  Esq.,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  late 
Professor  of  Poetry  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 
Vice-President ;  Member  of  Academic  Committee, 
6,  Pembroke  Gardens,  Kensington,  W. ;  and 
Athenaeum  Club. 

1906.  Alexander    StClair    Mackenzie,    Esq.,    M.A., 

LL.D.,  Professor  of  English  and  Comparative 
Literature  in  the  University  of  Kentucky, 
Lexington,  Ky.,  U.S.A. 

1907.  George  A.  Macmillan,  Esq.,  J. P.,  Hon.   D.Litt. 

Oxon.,  27,  Queen's  Gate  Gardens,  S.W. ;  Botton 
Hall,  Danby,  Grosmont,  York  ;  and  Atheneeum 
Club. 

1907.  The  Kioht  Hon.  Dodgson  Hamilton  Madden. 
P.C.(Ir.),  M.A.,  LL.D.,  Judge  of  High  Court  of 
Justice,  Ireland ;  Vice- Chancellor  of  Dublin 
University;  Nutley,  Booterstown,  Co.  Dublin; 
and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1907.  Laurie  Magnus,  Esq.,  M.A.,  12,  Westbourne 
Terrace,  W. 

1912.  Arthur  Maquarie,  Esq.,  Broadfield,  East 
Molesey,  Surrey  ;  and  Authors'  Club. 

1906.  E.  R.  Norris  Mathews,  Esq.,  F.R.Hist.S.,  Central 
Public  Library,  Bristol. 


59 

Year  of 
election. 

1907.  Rev.  Joskph  B.  Mayor,  Litt.D.,  Dublin  ;  Emeritus 
Professor  of  Kiug's  College,  London;  Hon. 
Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge;  Queens- 
gate  House,  Kingston  Hill. 

1899.  Rev.    H.    Anderson    Meaden,    M.R.A.S  ,     The 

Parsonage,  Stornoway,  Isle  of  Lewis. 

1900.  William  Miles,  Esq.,  26,  Anerley  Road,  West- 

cliff -on -Sea,  Essex. 

1904.  Walter  J.  Miller,  Esq.,  Gierko,  College  Road, 
Exeter. 

1900.  Rev.  William    C.  Minifie,    D.D.,  M.A.,  Ph.D.. 

"  Brentwood,"  East  End  Road,  East  Finchley,  N. 
1911.  fTHOMAs  Sturge  Moore,  Esq.,  Member  of  Academic 

Committee,    20,    St.    James's    Square,    Holla  ml 

Park,  W. 
1910.  fRT.    Hon.    Viscount     Morley,     O.M.,     F.R.S., 

D.C.L.,  LL.D.,  Member  of  Academic  Committee, 

Flowermead,  Wimbledon  Park,  S.W. 

1901.  James  Muirhead  Potter  Muirhead,  Esq.,  J. P., 

F.S.S.,  F.R.C.I.,  Civil  Service  Club,  Cape  Town; 

and  57,  St.  Georges  Street,  Cape  Town,  S.  Africa. 
1910.  fPROPEssoR    George    Gilbert    Murray,    M.A., 

LL.D.,   Member  of  Academic   Committee,    New 

College,  Oxford. 
1907.     John   Murray,  Esq.,    M.A.,   F.S.A.,  J.P.,    D.L., 

50,  Albemarle  Street,  London,  W. ;  and  Athen- 
aeum Club. 
1901.     Albert  Myers,  Esq.,   "  Rosemary,"   Teignmouth 

Road,  Cricklewood,  N.W. 


60 

Year  of 
election. 

1908.  Rev.   John    Akbuthnot    Nairn,    Litt.D.,    B.D., 

/  '/,;■- 1  Resident,  Headmaster  of  Merchant  Taylors' 
School,  Charterhouse  Square,  E.C.  ;  and  Bath 
Club. 

1907.  Professor  Henry  John  Newbolt,  M.A.,  Bar- 
rister-at-law,  Council;  Member  of  Academic 
Committee,  R.S.L.  Professor  of  Poetry,  26,  Ken- 
sington Park  Gardens,  W.  ;  Netherhampton 
Honse,  Salisbury. 

1894.  Philip  H.  Newman,  Esq.,  F.S.A.,  R.B.A.,  Council, 
39,  Brunswick  Square,  W.C.  ;  Bengal  Manor, 
Greens  Norton,  Towcester  ;  and  Primrose  Club. 

1899.  His  Grace  the  Duke  op  Northumberland, 
K.G.,  2,  Grosvenor  Place,  S.W.  ;  and  Alnwick 
Castle,  Northumberland. 

1909.  cAlfred  William  Oke,  Esq.,  B.A.,  LL.M.,  F.S.A., 

F.GS.,F.R.Hist.S.,  32,  Denmark  Villas,  Hove; 
and  "Oriellou,"  Highfield  Lane,  Southampton. 
1907.  Francis  William  Pember,  Esq.,  M.A.,  late 
Fellow  of  All  Souls'  College,  Oxford,  Barrister- 
at-Law,  60,  Queen's  Gardens,  W.  ;  and 
Athenaeum  Club. 

1910.  Sir  Arthur  Wing  Pinero,  Member  of  Academic 

Committee,  115a,  Harley  Street,  W. ;  Stillands, 
North  Chapel,  Sussex. 
1910.  G.  N.  Count  Plunkett,  V.P.R.I.A.,  F.S.A.,  Bar- 
rister-at-Law,  Director  of  National  Museum  of 
Science  and  Art,  26,  Upper  Fitzwilliam  Street, 
Dublin  ;  Kilternan  Abbey  ;  and  Eoyal  Societies 
Club. 


61 

l'ear  of 
election. 

1911.  tTHE  Princess  Edmond  de  Polignac,  43,  Avenue 

Henri  Martin,  Paris. 
1907.     The  Eight  Hon.  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  Bt., 

LL.D.,    D.C.L.,    21,    Hyde    Park   Place,   W. : 

and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1902.  Henry    Chapman     Poulter,    Esq.,    3,    College 

Green,  Dublin:  and  Eedan  Lodge,  Rathgar 
Road,  Bathgar,  Co.  Dublin. 

1906.  Henry  Proctor,  Esq.,  M.E.A.S.,  146,  Mallirison 

Road,  Clapham  Common,  S.W. 

1907.  George  Walter  Prothero,  Esq..  Litt.D.,  LL.D.. 

Editor  of  'Quarterly  Review,'  Vice-President; 
Member  of  Academic  Committee,  24,  Bedford 
Square,    W.C. ;    and    Athenaeum  Club. 

1910.  tSiR  Walter  Raleigh,  M.A.,  Professor  of 
English  Literature,  Oxford,  Member  of  Academ  ic 
Committee,  Oxford;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1907.  Professor  George  Gilbert  Ramsay,  LL.D., 
Litt.D.,  late  Professor  of  Humanity  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Glasgow,  Drumore,  Blairgowrie,  KB. 

1903.  Robt.  W.   Ramsey,  Esq.,   F.S.A.,  43,   Ladbroke 

Square,  W. 

1906.  Professor  Nava  Krishna  Ray,  B.A.,  Maharaja's 

College,  Jaipur,  Rajputana,  India. 
1895.     John  Reade,  Esq.,  340,  Laval  Avenue.  Montreal. 
Canada. 

1907.  Rev.  Gerald    Henry    Rendall,   M.A.,  Litt.D., 

Dedham  House,  Dedham,  Essex. 


62 

Year  of 
election. 

L907.  Sir  William  Blake  Richmond,  R.A.,  K.C.B., 
M.A.,  Beavor  Lodge,  Hammersmith,  W. ;  and 
Athenaeum  Club. 

1911.  Lady  Richmond  Ritchie,  Member  of  Academic 
Committee,  109,  St.  George's  Square,  S.W. 

1888.  cWalter  T.  Rogers,  Esq.,  59,  Rutland  Park 
Mansions,  Willesden  Green,  N.W. 

1896.  cThe  Rev.  Honyel  Gough  Rosedale,  M.A.,  D.D., 
F.S.A.,  Honorary  Foreign  Secretary,  Council 
(Vice-President,  1905  to  1910),  7,  Gloucester 
Street,  Victoria,  S.W. ;  and  22,  Grafton  Road, 
Worthing. 

1899.  Rev.  W.  E.  Rosedale,  M.A.,  D.D.,  18,  Gilston 
Road,  The  Boltons,  S.W. 

1905.     Rev.  Robt.  Ross,  A.K.C.,  The  Vicarage,  Kidsgrove, 

Stoke-on-Trent. 
1905.     John  Rowlands,  Esq.,  Picton  House,  Wauuar- 

lwydd,  Gowerton,  near  Swansea. 
1893.  fCHARLES  Russell,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  11,  Buckingham 

Terrace,  Glasgow,  W. 

1903.  Lady  Russell-Cotes,  East  Cliff  Hall,  Bourne- 
mouth. 

1907.  The  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Ryle,  D.D.,  C.V.O., 
Dean  of  Westminster,  Council,  The  Deanery, 
Westminster;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1911.  cGeorge  Bernard  Shaw,  Esq.,  Cotmcil,  Member 
of  Academic  Committee,  10,  Adelphi  Terrace, 
W.C. 


63 

Year  of 
election. 

1911.     Henry    Simpson,    Esq.,    President    of   the    Poet's 

Club,    19,    Thornton    Hill,    Wimbledon;    and 

Authors'  Club. 

1910.     The  Ven.  William  Macdonald  Sinclair,  D.D., 

formerly  Archdeacon  of  London,  and  Canon  of 

St.    Paul's,    Shermaubury    Rectory,    Henfield, 

Sussex  ;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1897.     Kunwar  Ivlshal  Pal  Sinh,  Esq.,  M.A.,  M.R.A.S., 

RaTs  Kotla  P.O.,  Kotla,  Dt.  Agra  (East),  India. 

1906.     Walter   Scott    Sisterson,    Esq.,    1,    Chichester 

Villas,  Arundel  Road,  Cliftonville,  Margate. 
1886.     George  E.   Skerry,   Esq.,  F.R.G.S.,   119,  High 

Holborn,  W.C. 
L904.     Archibald     Sparke,     Esq.,     Chesham     House, 

Bolton-le-Moors. 
1896.  Marion  H.  Spielmann,  Esq.,  E.S.A.,  Council 
(Vice-President,  1906  to  1910),  21,  Cadogau 
Gardens,  Belgravia,  S.W. 
1H07.  Rev.  William  Archibald  Spooner,  D.D., 
Warden  of  New  College,  Oxford.  Warden's 
Lodgings,  New  College,  Oxford;  aud  Athenaeum 
Club. 

1906.  Rev.  James  Sprunt,  Westwood,   Orchard  Road, 

Belvedere,  Kent. 
1886.     Corelli  J.  Stevens,  Esq.,  Beverley  House,  Barnes, 

S.W. 
1904.     Rev.     William     Thomas     Stonestreet,    D.D., 

LL.D.,  18,  Corporation  Street,  Manchester. 

1907.  J.  L.  Strachan-Davidson,  Esq.,  M.A.,  Master  of 

Balliol,  Balliol  College,  Oxford. 


64 

Year  of 

election. 

1902.  cMrs.  Mabel  Frances  Strafford,  Summerleigh, 
Merstham,  Surrey  ;  46,  Baron's  Court  Eoad. 
West  Kensington. 

1907.  The  Very  Rev.  Thomas  Banks  StronCx.  D.D., 
Dean  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  Christ  Church, 
Oxford. 

1875.  cRaja  Sir  S.  M.  Tagore,  Master  of  Music  The 
Rajbali,  Pathuriaghata,  Calcutta. 

1897.  cR.  Inigo  Tasker,  Esq..  J. P.,  Council, Nether  Park, 
Nether  Street,  Church  End,  Einchley. 

1896.  Rev.  Charles  John  Terry,  M.A.,  Rector  of 
Hastings,  All  Saints'  Rectory,  Hastings. 

1891.  Rev.  George  E.  Terry,  L.Th.,  F.SA.,F.R.Hist.S.. 
St.  John's  Rectory,  10,  Learmonth  Terrace, 
Edinburgh. 

1905.  Jesse  Lambly  Thomas,  Esq.,  12,  North  Park, 
Eltham,  Kent. 

1909.  Edward  William  Thomson,  Esq.,  86l»,  Bronson 
Avenue,  Ottawa,  Ontario,  Canada. 

1904.  John  T.  Thorp,  Esq.,  M.S.A.,  F.RHist.S..  57. 
Regent  Road,  Leicester. 

1900.  David  Tollemache,  Esq.,  Auditor,  7,  Grand 
Parade  Mansions,  Muswell  Hill,  N. ;  and  Con- 
stitutional Club. 

1907.  Professor  Arthur  Woollgar  Verrall,  Litt.D.. 
Professor  of  English  Literature,  University  of 
Cambridge,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, Barrister-at-Law,  Member  of  Academic 
Committee,  6,  Selwyn  Gardens,  Cambridge  ;  and 
Athenseum  Club 


65 

Year  of 
election. 

1907.     The  Very  Rev.  Dean  Wace,  D.D.,  The  Deanery, 
Canterbury;  and  Athenaeum  Club. 

1910.  Charles  Edward  Wade,  Esq.,  M.A.,  F.R.Hist.S., 

Barrister-at-Law,    3,   Lampard    House,  Maida 
Hill  West,  W. 
1898.     John  Hartley  Wadsworth,  Esq.,  MA.,  North 
Bailey,  Durham. 

1911.  W.  H.  Wagstaff,  Esq.,  M.A.,  Gresham  Professor 

of   Greometry,   Mavridge,    371,    London    Road, 

Thornton  Heath,  Surrey. 
1907.     Professor  Thomas  Herbert  Warren,  D.C.L., 

President  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen  College,  Oxford, 

Vice-Chancellor  of   the  University  of   Oxford. 

The  Lodgings,  Magdalen  College,  Oxford;  and 

Savile  Club. 
1902.     Edward  James  Watson,   Esq.,   F.R.Hist.S.,  St. 

John's  Arch,  Bristol. 
1907.     Theodore    Watts-Dunton,     Esq.,     The     Pines, 

11,  Putney  Hill. 
1901.     Alex.    D.    O.    Wedderburn,    Esq.,    K.C.,    47, 

Cadogan  Place,  S.W. 
1895.  cA.  Goodinch  Williams,  Esq.,  2,  Anna  Cottages, 

Union  Place,  Stonehouse,  Plymouth. 
1909.     George    Charles   Williamson,    Esq.,    D.Litt., 

Burgh  House,  Well  Walk,  Hampstead,  N.W. 
1901.     George  Henry  Wilson,  Esq.,  J.P.,  Heath  House, 

Ossett,  Yorks. 
1901.     Butler    Wood,     Esq.,     Central    Free    Library, 

Bradford. 

5 


06 

Year  of 
election. 

1887.  cT.  C.  Woodman,  Esq.,  LL.D.,  F.E.I.S.,  The  Old 

House,  Pulborough. 

1898.  cBaron    Anthony     or     Worms,     Milton    Parle, 

Egham,  Survey. 
1862.     George,    Baron    de    Worms,  F.S.A.,   F.R.G.S., 

G.C.F.J.,  Council  (Vice-President  1896  to  1909), 

17,  Park  Crescent,  Portland  Place,  W.;  and  -27, 

Adelaide  Crescent,  Hove,  Sussex. 

1898.  cBaron  Percy  de  Worms,  21,   Lowndes  Street , 

S.W. 
1897.  cT.  CAToWoRSFOED,Esq.,M.A.,LL.D.,F.R.Hist,S., 

Hon.    Solicitor    R.S.L.,    Hall  Place,   Mitchani, 

Surrey;   9,    Staple   Inn,    W.C. ;    and    Authors' 

Club. 
1907.     J.  C.   Wright,  Esq.,  Holmedene,  Arundel  Road, 

Eastbourne;  and  Authors'  Club. 

1899.  Rev.     J.     J.     Wright,     "  Woodleigh,"     Leigh, 

Lancashire. 
1907.     The    Right    Hon.    George   Wyndham,    D.C.L., 
M.P.,  Member  of  Academic  Committee,  35,  Park 
Lane,    W. ;     Saighton  Grange,     Chester ;     and 
Carlton  Club. 

1910.  fWiLLiAM     Butler     Yeats,     Esq.,    Member     of 

Academic    Committee,    18,    Woburn    Buildings, 
Euston  Road,  KW. 

1911.  Rev.     William      Edward      Young,      F.R.C.I., 

M.R.S.A.,  Nenagh,  Teddington. 


67 


FOREIGN    HONORARY    FELLOWS. 


Eafael  de  Altamira,  Inspector-General  of  Education 
in  Spain,  Professor  at  Oviedo  University,  C  de  la  Eeal 
Academia  de  la  Historia,  etc.,  Madrid. 

Prince  Vladimir  Bariatinsky,  95,  Bedford  Court 
Mansions,  W.C. 

Joaquim  Theophilo  Braga,  President  of  Portugal,  Doctor 
of  Lisbon  University,  Government  Professor  of  the 
Highest  School  of  Literature,  Member  of  Portuguese 
Academy,  President  of  Literature  Section  of  Academy. 
Lisbon. 

George  Brandes,  Doctor  of  Aesthetics,  Officer  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour.     55,  Havnegade  1  Sal,  Copenhagen. 

Alois  Brandl,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  the  German 
Shakespeare  Society,  Professor  of  English  Philology, 
Berlin  University.  Kaiserin-Augustastrasse,  73,  Berlin, 
W10. 

Joseph  Hodges  Choate,  LL.D.  of  eight  Universities, 
D.C.L.  of  Oxford,  etc.,  late  American  Ambassador  to 
Great  Britain.  60,  Wall  Street,  New  York,  and  Stock- 
bridge,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 

Charles  Simon  Clekmont-Ganneau,  LL.D.,  Member  of 
the  Institute  of  France,  Membre-Correspondant  de 
l'Academie  des  Sciences  de  St.  Petersbourg,  etc.  Avenue 
de  l'Alma  1,  Paris,  8e. 


68 


Henri  Cordier,  D.Litt.,  Professor  at  L'Ecole  Speeiale  des 
Langues  Orientales  Vivantes,  Member  of  the  [nstitute 
of  Prance.     8,  rue  de  Siam,  Paris,  XVI1'. 

Hermann  Diels,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Classical 
Philology,  Berlin  University,  Secretary  of  the  Berlin 
Akademie  d.  Wissenschaften,  Nvirnbergerstrasse  6511, 
Berlin,  W.  50. 

Henry  Van  Dyke,  Iiev.,  D.D.,  Princeton,  Harvard,  Yale, 
Union,  Washington,  etc.,  Professor  of  English  Litera- 
ture, Princeton,  President  of  Holland  Society.  Avalon, 
Princeton,  New  Jersey,  U.S.A. 

Charles  William  Eliot,  Late  President  of  Harvard 
University,  LL.D.  of  Princeton,  Yale,  and  John 
Hopkins,  Fellow  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences,  American  Philosophical  Society,  etc.,  Officer 
of  the  Legion  d'Honneur,  France,  etc.  17,  Quincy 
Street,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 

Emile  Auguste  Faguet,  Member  of  French  Academy, 
Officier  de  l'lnstruction  Publique,  Chevalier  de  la  Legion 
d'Honneur.     Rue  Monge  59,  Paris  Ve. 

Jacques  Anatole  France,  Member  of  French  Academy, 
Legion  of  Honour.     Villa  Said,  Paris  XVIe. 

Theodore  Gomperz,  Emeritus  Professor  of  Classical 
Philology,  Member  of  the  Academies  of  Vienna,  Berlin, 
France,  etc.,  D.Litt.  Cambridge  and  Dublin,  Member  of 
the  Upper  House  of  Parliament,  Knight  of  the  Order 
"  Ehrenzeichen  fur  Kunst  unci  Wissenschaft."  Plossl- 
gasse  4,  Vienna  IV. 

Adolf  Harnack,  Professor  of  Church  History,  Berlin 
University,  General  Director  of  Royal  Library,  Fellow 


69 

of  the  Akademie  der  Wisseuschaften,  Berlin,  Naples, 
and  Rome,  Hon.  Fellow  of  American  Society  of  Arts 
and  Sciences,  of  the  Society  of  Historical  Theology, 
Oxford,  of  the  American  Society  of  Church  History, 
etc.     Berlin,  W.  10. 

Paul  Heyse,  Dr.Phil.     Munich. 

Thomas  Wentworth  Higginson,  Colonel  U.S.  Army, 
M.A.,  LL.D. Harvard,  Member  of  the  American  Academy 
of  Arts  and  Sciences,  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Canada, 
etc.     29,  Buckingham  Street,  Cambridge,  Mass.  U.S.A. 

William  Dean  Howells,  Litt.D.,  Yale,  Oxon,  Columbia, 
M.A  ,  LL.D.,  Kittery  Point,  Maine,  and  130,  West 
Fifty- Seventh  Street,  New  York. 

Jean  Adrien  Antoine  Jules  Jusserand,  Vice-President 
of  the  Socictc  d'Histoire  Litteraire  de  la  France, 
Member  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society,  etc. 
Washington,  U.S  A. 

George  Lyman  Kittredge,  LL.D.,  Litt.D.,  Professor  of 
English,  Harvard  University.  8,  Hilliard  Street,  Cam- 
bridge, Mass.,  U.S.A. 

Gtodefroid  Kurth,  Directeur  de  l'lnstitut  Historique 
Beige  a  Rome,  Professeur  eme'rite  de  l'Universite  de 
Liege.  18,  Piazza  Rusticucci,  Rome. 
Abel  Lefranc,  Professeur  de  Langue  et  Litterature 
Francaise  Moderne  au  College  de  France,  Directeur- 
ad  joint  a  l'Ecole  Pratique  des  Hautes-Etudes  pour 
l'Histoire  Litteraire  de  la  Renaissance,  President  de  la 
Societe  des  Etudes  Rabelaisiennes.  Rue  Monsieur-le- 
Prince  2G,  Paris. 


70 

I'ii.ix  Liebermann,  Hon.  D.  C.L.  Oxford .  LL.D.Cam- 
bridge  ;  Hon.  Member  of  the  G-esellschaft  der  Wissen- 
schaften,  G-ottingen,  etc.  Bendlerstrasse  10,  Berlin, 
W.  10. 

Lutzow  (Count),  Hon.  Ph.D. Prague,  Hon.  D.Litt.Oxon., 
F.R.G.S.,  Chamberlain  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria, 
Member  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Sciences,  and  of  the 
Francis  Joseph  Academy,  Bohemia.  Chateau  de  Zani- 
pach,  Hnatnice,  Bohemia. 

Maurice  Maeterlinck,  Chevalier  de  la  Legion  d'Honneur, 
and  of  l'Ordre  de  Leopold.  Abbaye  de  St.  Wandrille, 
Seine  inf.,  Prance. 

Paul  Meyer,  Member  of  Institute  of  France,  Correspond- 
ing Fellow  of  British  Academy,  Director  of  Ecole  des 
Chartes,  Hon.  Professor  in  the  College  de  France, 
lion.  D.C.L.Oxon.  Avenue  de  la  Bourdonnais  16, 
Paris  7e. 

Silas  Weir  Mitchell,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  Harvard,  Edin- 
burgh, and  Princetown,  M.D.Bologna.  1524,  Walnut 
Street,  Philadelphia,  U.S.A. 

Germain  Morin,  D.Litt.  honoris  causa,  Oxon,  Correspond- 
ing Member  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  France, 
Bluthenstrasse  14,  Munich. 

Fimdtjof  Nansen,  Dr.PhiL,  D.Sc,  D.C.L.,  F.R.G.S., 
Member  of  the  Royal  Norwegian  Society  of  Sciences, 
etc.     Lysaker,  nr.  Christiania,  Norway. 

Josu  Duarte  Ramalho  Ortigao,  Librarian  of  Royal 
Library  of  the  Ajuda,  Member  of  Portuguese  Academy 
Honorary  Member  of  the  Institute  of  Coimbra,  Corres- 
ponding Member  of  Royal  Academy  of  Spain,  of  Royal 


71 

Academy  of  History,  of  Royal  Academy  of  San  Fernando. 
Calcada  dos  Caetanos  30,  Lisbon. 

J.  M.  W.  Van  per  Poorten-Schwartz  (Maarten 
Maarfcens),  LL. D.Utrecht,  Hon.  LL.D.  Aberdeen,  Hon 
Litt.D.  Pennsylvania,  Hon.  Member  Authors'  Club, 
London  and  New  York.  Zonlieuvel  Castle,  nr.  Doom, 
Holland. 

Menendez  y  Pelayo  (Excmo-  Senor  Don  Marcelino),  Doctor 
of  Philosophy  and  Letters,  Professor  of  Literature, 
Madrid  University,  Chief  of  the  Biblioteca  National, 
Madrid,  Life  Librarian  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  History, 
Member  of  Royal  Spanish  Academy,  etc.  The  Uni- 
versity, Madrid. 

Peter  Rosegger,  Hon.  Doctor,  Heidelberg  University, 
Knight  of  the  Order  Eisemen  Krone,  and  of  the  Preussis- 
chen  Kronenordens,  II  Class,  etc.     Graz,  Austria. 

Paul  Sabatier,  D.Litt.Oxon.,  Member  of  Royal  Academy 
of  Rome.  "  La  Maisonette,"  par  St.  Sauveur  de 
Montagut,  Ardeche,  France. 

Johan  Ernst  Welhaven  Sars,  Member  of  Royal  Society 

of  Science,  Christiania,  Professor  of  History,  Christiania, 

etc.     Lysalcer,  nr.  Christiania,  Norway. 
ArmInius  Vambkry,  C.V.O.,  M.L.L.,  Professor  of  Oriental 

Languages,  etc.     Budapesth  University. 
Valdemar     Vedel,    Ph.D.,    Professor    of    Comparative 

Literature,  Copenhagen  University.     Nejsomhedsvey  17, 

Copenhagen. 
Emile  Verhaeren,  Chevalier   de  la  Legion   d'Honneur 

and  de  l'Ordre  de  Leopold.     Rue  Montretout,  St.  Cloud 

(S.  and  O.),  France. 


72 

Louis  Marie  Julien  Viatjd  (Pierre  Loti),  Captain 
French  Navy,  Member  of  French  Academy.  Rue  St. 
Pierre,  Rochefort,  France. 

Pasqtjale  Villari,  Senator  of  Italy,  Professor  at  Regio 
Istituto  di  Studi  Superiori,  Florence,  Member  of  Insti- 
tute of  France,  Grand  Officer  of  the  Order  of  the  Crown 
of  Italy,  Knight  of  1st  Order  Pour  le  Merite,  Prussia. 
Florence,  Italy. 

Ulrich  von  Wilamowitz-Moellendorff,  Member  of 
Academies  of  Berlin  and  Paris,  of  British  Academy,  of 
Academies  of  Rome,  Amsterdam,  Budapest,  Copenhagen, 
etc.     Eichenalh'e  12,  Westend,  Berlin. 

Jacob  Wille,  Ph.D.,  Oberbibliothekar  der  Universitat, 
Heidelberg.     Bunsenstrasse  9,  Heidelberg. 

Gteorge  Edwaed  Woodberry,  LL.B.,  Litt.D.,  Professor 
of  Comparative  Literature,  Columbia  University, 
Beverley,  Mass.,  U.S  A. 

W.  Wundt,  Doctor  of  Medicine,  Philosophy,  and  Law, 
Groethestrasse  6,  Leipzig. 


ADLARD    AND    SON,    IMPK.,    23,    BARTHOLOMEW    CLOSE,    B.C. 


ROYAL    SOCIETY    OF    LITERATURE 


rHE  ACADEMIC  COMMITTEE 

COMMEMORATIVE    ADDRESSES 

ON 

Sir   ALFRED    COMYN    LYALL 

BY 

Q.   W.    PROTHERO 

AND     ON 

EDWARD    HENRY    PEMBER 

BY 

W.    J.    COURTHOPE 


Award  of  the  EDMOND    DE    POLIGNAC    PRIZE. 


Thursday,    November   23rd,    19" 


LONDON 
HENRY    FROWDE 

OXFORD   UNIVERSITY   PRESS,   AMEN   CORNER,   E.C. 
1912 


THE    ACADEMIC    COMMITTEE. 

Alfred  Austin. 

James  Matthew  Baerie. 

Arthur  Christopher  Benson. 

Laurence  Binyon. 

Andrew  Cecil  Bradley. 

Robert  Bridges. 

Joseph  Conrad. 

William  John  Courthore. 

Austin  Dobson. 

Edward  Dowden. 

James  George  Frazer. 

Edmund  Gosse. 

Viscount  Haldane  of  Cloan. 

Thomas  Hardy. 

Maurice  Hewlett. 

Henry  James. 
William  Paton  Ker. 

Andrew  Lang. 

John  William  Mackail. 
Thomas  Sturge  Moore. 

Viscount  Morley. 

George  Gilbert  Murray. 

Henry  Newbolt. 

Sib  Arthur  Wing  Pinero. 

George  Walter  Prothero. 

Walter  Raleigh. 

Anne  Isabella,  Lady  Ritchie. 

George  Bernard  Shaw. 

Arthur  Woollgar  Verrall. 

George  Wyndham. 

William  Butler  Yeats. 


Samuel  Henry  Butcher  died  Dec.  29th,  1910. 
Alfred  Comyn  Lyall  died  April  10th,  1911. 
Edward  Henry  Pember  died  April  5th,  1911. 


Percy  W.  Ames, 

Secretary. 


ACADEMIC    COMMITTEE. 


Meeting  at  20,  Hanover  Square,  London,  AV. 

Thursday,  Not-ember  23rd,  1911. 

Chairman  :  Viscount  Haldane  of  Cloan. 


The  Chairman:  It  will  be  for  the  convenience 
of  those  who  are  present  that  I  should  briefly 
indicate  the  order  of  our  business.  The  first 
part  of  that  business  is  a  sad  one.  There  have 
been  removed  from  us  two  whom  most  of  us 
knew  well — Mr.  Pember  and  Sir  Alfred  Lyall. 
Mr.  Pember  had  thrown  himself  with  all  his 
energy,  and  with  his  passion  for  literature,  into 
the  work  of  the  Academic  Committee. 

He  was  a  man  of  rare  energy,  energy  which 


G 

is  not  often  bestowed  on  literary  subjects  with 

the  intensity   which  lie  showed,  and  we  miss 

him.     Sir  Alfred  Lyall  was  one  of  these  very 

unusual  men  who  have  certain  gifts  in  a  very 

hierh  decree.     There  was  a  fineness  about  him 

(Hear,  hear),  an  exquisite  sense,  which  is  not 

often  met  with  in  these  islands,  and  when  it  is 

met  with  is  of  a  quality  which  is  as  precious  as 

it  is  rare. 

"  He  was  a  man,  take  him  foi*  all  in  all, 
We  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again." 

We  shall  not  readily  see  anyone  with  that 
combination  of  qualities  which  was  his.  Trained 
in  affairs,  combining  with  practical  knowledge 
of  life  and  the  insight  which  the  training  of 
those  engaged  in  statecraft  brings,  a  high 
literary  sense,  and  a  considerable  literary 
gift,  he  was  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
Academic  Committee,  and  him  also  we  shall 
miss.  Of  Mr.  Pember,  Mr.  Conrthope  will 
speak,  Mr.  Prothero  on  Sir  Alfred  Lyall. 
When  that  is  done,  I  shall  come  to  what  I 
will  not  for  the  moment  touch  on,  and  that 
is    the   new   position  in  which   the   Academic 


Committee  lias  been  placed  by  the  generosity 
of  the  Princess  de  Polignac,  and  the  first 
fruits  which  her  gift  has  brought.  For  the 
moment  I  abstain  from  saying  any  more 
about  that,  and  I  will  ask  Mr.  Courthope  and 
Mr.  Prothero  to  speak  to  us. 


IN   MEMOBIAM: 
EDWARD   HENRY    PEMBER,   M.A.,   K.C. 

By  W.  J.  Courthope,  C.B.,  D.Litt. 

All  history,  I  think,  shows  us  that  a  free 
and  ancient  society,  so  long  as  it  is  in  a 
thoroughly  healthy  state,  will  know  how  to 
harmonise  the  elements  in  its  life  which  tend 
to  action  with  those  which  mainly  help  to 
encourage  contemplation.  The  representative 
men  among  its  statesmen,  its  soldiers  and 
sailors,  its  lawyers,  its  merchants — all  those,  in 
short,  who  carry  on  the  business  of  the  Empire 


from  day  to  day — will  be  active  patrons  of  its 
art  and  literature :  its  men  of  imagination,  far 
from  retiring  into  a  monastic  pleasure-house  of 
their  own  devising,  will  seek  inspiration  from 
the  living  interests  of  their  country.  We  may 
fairly  make  it  our  boast  that  this  desirable 
state  of  things  has  prevailed  in  England  from 
the  time  when  she  became  a  protagonist  in 
the  cause  of  European  liberty.  What  may  be 
called  the  patriotism  of  culture  perhaps  cul- 
minated in  the  epoch  succeeding  the  Revolution 
of  1688.  Then  was  the  age  when  the  men 
of  policy  deliberately  called  to  their  assistance 
the  men  of  letters ;  the  century  of  Oxford  and 
Halifax,  of  Swift  and  Addison ;  the  era  when 
a  great  soldier  like  Wolfe  declared  that  his 
ambition  would  have  been  more  than  satisfied 
had  he  been  the  author  of  Gray's  '  Elegy '  ; 
the  times  in  which  the  political  philosophy 
of  Burke  shone  with  a  brilliant  reflection 
in  the  poetry  of  Goldsmith  and  in  the 
criticism  of  Johnson.  The  tradition,  initiated 
in  that  period,  has  been  maintained  into  our 
own  day,  and  perhaps,  among  all  active  pro- 


9 

fessions,  it  lias  been  most  brightly  illustrated 
in  the  history  and  character  of  the  English  Bar. 
I  have  but  to  remind  you  that  at  this  moment 
the  illustrious  President  of  the  Royal  Society 
of  Literature  is  the  late  Lord  Chancellor  of 
England,  and  that  our  noble  Chairman  to-day, 
the  present  Secretary  for  War,  is  one  of  the 
chief  ornaments  of  the  Society  of  Lincoln's  Inn. 
By  no  man  was  that  great  tradition  more  valued, 
by  none  was  it  more  worthily  upheld,  than  by 
him  whom  the  Royal  Society  of  Literature  and 
the  Bar  of  England  have  lately  lost,  and  the 
commemoration  of  whose  virtues  and  accom- 
plishments has  been  entrusted  to  my  unworthy 
hands — Edward  Henry  Pember. 

It  is  always  desirable,  where  possible,  to 
trace  the  consistency  of  a  character  from  its 
early  beginnings.  I  am  unable  to  do  so  from 
personal  recollection  in  Pember's  case,  as  in 
age  he  belonged  to  a  generation  somewhat 
earlier  than  my  own,  while  in  active  life  our 
paths  were  distinct.  But  I  am  fortunately 
able  to  supplement  my  own  memories  of  him 
Avith   those    of   eminent    contemporaries,    who 


10 

were  his  associates  at  school,  at  the  University, 
and  at  the  Parliamentary  Bar;  and  from  the 
testimony  of  these  it  will  be  seen  how  steady 
and  equable  was  the  development  in  him  of 
those  qualities  which  all  who  knew  him  admired 
and  loved.  He  entered  Harrow  in  1 846,  when 
the  school  was  under  the  head-mastership  of 
Charles  John  Vaughan,  one  of  the  finest  classical 
scholars  that  the  University  of  Cambridge  ever 
produced  ;  and  I  imagine  that  the  choice  sim- 
plicity of  language,  and  the  refinement  of  expres- 
sion which  I  remember  in  my  own  time  to  have 
been  the  leading1  characteristics  of  Vauffhan's 
teaching,  had  already  become  a  tradition  of 
intellectual  discipline  in  all  the  forms  of  the 
school ;  so  that,  though  Pember  left  Harrow 
before  he  reached  its  upper  regions,  his  mind 
would  have  received  there  that  bent  towards 
exact  scholarship  on  which  he  afterwards  set 
so  high  a  value.  Among  his  contemporaries 
were  two  at  least  in  whom  the  union  of  scholar- 
ship and  athletics  shone  with  particular  lustre. 
Of  one  of  these,  Charles  Stuart  Calverley — then 
known  by  the  name  of  Blayds — Pember  was  the 


11 

house-mate,  and,  I  believe,  the  friend  ;  and,  as 
he  was  always  somewhat  of  a  hero-worshipper, 
I  do  not  doubt  that  he  enthusiastically 
admired  alike  the  wit  and  genius  which  after- 
wards embodied  itself  in  that  exquisite  model 
of  pure  and  graceful  versification,  'Fly-Leaves,' 
and  the  physical  prowess  of  one  whose  reck- 
lessly prodigious  feats  of  leaping  Avere  tradi- 
tional in  the  memory  even  of  my  own  times. 
The  other  school-fellow  I  speak  of,  the  present 
Master  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  known 
to  all  scholars  as  a  composer  of  Latin  verse 
that  ranks  with  that  of  Vida  and  Addison  and 
the  Marquis  of  Wellesley,  enjoyed  as  a  boy 
another  kind  of  glory  in  the  cricket  field. 
There  he  shared  the  amusements  of  Pember, 
and  he  has  kindly  furnished  me  with  the 
following  characteristic  recollection  of  him  : 
"  Pember  was  a  remarkably  handsome  boy,  full 
of  vivacity,  eagerness,  fun,  self-confidence. 
Had  he  gone  into  the  army  he  would  have 
made  a  brilliant  officer,  always  at  the  front, 
and  sure  to  inspire  others."  During  Dr.  Butler's 
Head-mastership    of    Harrow,   the  old   school- 


12 

fellows  renewed  their  friendship,  and  Pember 
showed  his  appreciation  of  the  teaching  he  had 
received  there  by  founding  "  valuable  prizes  for 
Greek  and  Latin  grammar,"  which  the  Master 
of  Trinity  tells  me  have  "  for  the  last  thirty 
years  been  won  by  some  of  the  best  classical 
scholars  in  the  country." 

A  later  stage  brought  Pember  to  Oxford, 
and  here  a  vivid  sketch  of  the  impression  he 
made  on  his  contemporaries  has  been  given 
me  by  Sir  Edward  Chandos  Leigh,  his  friend 
and  colleague  at  the  Parliamentary  Bar,  who 
says,  "  He  won  an  open  studentship  at  Christ 
Church  ;  he  obtained  a  first  class  in  Modera- 
tions and  a  first  class  in  the  Final  Classical 
Schools  ;  at  the  same  time,  though  obliged  to 
read  hard,  he  was  popular  and  mixed  a  oreat 
deal  in  general  society.  Associating,  as  he  did, 
with  men  like  Lord  Groschen,  Sir  Robert 
Herbert,  C.  S.  Calverley,  and  Frederic  Harri- 
son, he  also  mixed  with  the  best  type  of 
sporting  characters,  such  as  Henry  Blundell, 
Gentleman  Commoner  of  Christ  Church,  a  real 
English  gentleman  and  sportsman,  and  F.  D. 


Longe,  famous  both  at  Harrow  and  Oxford  as 
a  brilliant  cricketer.  He  possessed  a  fine  voice, 
and  well  do  I  remember  how  we  enjoyed  his 
singing  at  supper-parties,  and  on  one  occasion, 
at  our  private  theatricals  at  Stonleigh  Abbey, 
how  he  entranced  the  audience  by  his  rendering 
of  one  of  Tom  Moore's  Irish  Melodies." 

The  artistic  side  of  Pember's  nature,  of  which 
we  have  here  an  early  glimpse,  was  systemati- 
cally cultivated  by  him.  One  who  was  more 
intimately  associated  with  all  his  tastes  than 
anybody  else  writes  to  me  about  his  training  in 
music  :  "  He  studied  singing  under  Peruginifor 
several  years,  in  the  straitest  school  of  the  old 
Italian  methods.  He  sang  a  good  deal  at  one 
time  in  private,  but  gave  it  up  owing  to  stress 
of  work. 

"  At  one  period  of  his  life  he  studied  harmony 
somewhat  thoroughly,  so  that  he  may  be  said 
to  have  had  some  considerable  technical 
theoretic  knowledge  of  music.  His  preference 
certainly  lay  with  the  earlier  forms  of  music, 
the  old  Italians,  Bach,  Mozart,  Beethoven,  etc. 
down  to  Schuman,  Schubert,  and  Chopin.     He 


14 

did  not  much  appreciate  the  later  develop- 
ments. 

"  His  work  on  Sir  George  Grove's  Dictionary 
was  mainly  confined  to  "  Lives  of  the  Early 
Italian  Musicians."  Owing  to  his  great  friend- 
ship with  Sir  George,  he  moved  for  a  consider- 
able period  of  his  life  a  good  deal  in  a  society 
that  was  keenly  interested  in  music,  and  he 
had  a  wide  general  knowledge  of  the  historical 
development  of  the  art." 

But  while  he  thus  solaced  his  leisure  with 
aesthetic  enjoyments,  which  in  many  cases  tend 
to  absorb  all  the  faculties  of  a  man's  nature, 
Pember  in  no  way  relaxed  his  energy  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  profession.  Sir  Edward  Chandos 
Leigh  says  of  him  in  his  capacity  of  advocate : 
"  For  ten  years  before  I  became  Speaker's 
Counsel  in  1884  I  was  closely  associated  with 
him  at  the  Parliamentary  Bar.  At  that  time 
the  most  eminent  leaders  were  Lord  Grim- 
thorpe  (then  Sir  Edward  Beckett-Denison), 
George  Venables,  and  Samuel  Pope,  and  I 
may  safely  say  that  Pember  held  his  own 
with   these   three  great  lawyers.     Perhaps  he 


15 

had  the  greatest  sympathy  with  Venables, 
who  combined  forensic  ability  with  a  high 
appreciation  and  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
classics,  and  in  this  respect  Pember  himself, 
a  brilliant  classic,  found  a  strong  bond  of 
union  with  him.  Pember's  unflagging  energy, 
his  great  powers  of  speaking  and  cross-exa- 
mination, and  his  devotion  to  their  interests, 
endeared  him  to  his  clients  :  while  his  un- 
swerving honesty  always  secured  the  attention 
of  the  Committee,  because  of  the  implicit  con- 
fidence which  they  reposed  in  him." 

As  I  read  these  characteristic  recollections 
of  Pember,  by  those  who  knew  him  in  his  early 
days  and  in  his  professional  life,  I  perceive 
how  strong1  a  light  tliev  throw  on  those  admir- 
able  qualities  in  him  which  struck  me  when  I 
first  made  his  acquaintance  some  twenty  years 
aofo.  He  had  then,  not  long  before,  been  the 
sufferer  from  a  crushing  family  bereavement, 
the  permanent  traces  of  which  must  be  visible 
to  those  of  his  friends  who  have  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  reading  the  poems  which  he  from 
time    to    time   printed   for  private  ^circulation. 


16 

These  friends,  I  think,  will  have  noted  that  the 
issue  of  his  compositions  begins  only  after  the 
great  personal  loss  to  which  I  have  alluded ; 
nor  will  they  doubt  that,  the  explanation  of  this 
lies  in  the  soothing  and  consolatory  influences 
exerted  on  his  mind  by  his  enthusiastic  love  of 
letters.  I  met  him  in  those  dining  clubs  and 
societies  of  ancient  standing — legacies  of  the 
great  eighteenth-century  tradition — founded  to 
promote  intercourse  between  men  of  general, 
and  particularly  of  literary  sympathies,  which 
form  continuous  links  of  union  between  the 
altering  tastes  of  successive  generations.  At 
these  meetings  Pember  was  always  the  life  and 
soul  of  conversation.  He  retained  to  the  end 
of  his  life  the  characteristics  of  his  boyhood,  so 
appropriately  summarised  by  his  school-fellow 
the  Master  of  Trinity — "vivacity,  eagerness, 
fun,  self-confidence."  These  qualities  made 
him  the  best  of  company.  Wide  reading,  and 
an  equally  wide  knowledge  of  the  active  world, 
entitled  him  to  speak  with  authority  on  a  great 
variety  of  subjects  ;  and  he  was  never  restrained 
from  the  frank  expression   of  opinion  by  the 


17 


false  feeling  of  diffidence  which  hinders  many 
from  the  social  interchange  of  thought,  through 
a  sense  of  the  imperfection  of  their  own  know- 
ledge. But  this  self-confidence  was  never 
marred  by  anything  like  dictatorial  dogmatism, 
and  no  one  was  more  ready  than  he  to  sur- 
render an  opinion  which  could,  be  positively 
shown  to  rest  upon  a  false  foundation. 

His  personal  qualities  are  vividly  reflected  in 
his  poems.  What  particularly  strikes  me  about 
their  character  is  their  manliness.  They  are 
utterly  devoid  of  all  affectation,  of  anything 
like  shop-front  advertisement,  of  attempts 
to  attract  spurious  attention  to  the  thing 
said  by  an  eccentric  manner  of  saying  it. 
They  illustrate  the  advice  of  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds to  the  painter — to  choose  subjects  acces- 
sible to  the  general  educated  imagination. 
Those  who  have  read  them  must  have  observed 
that  the  themes  of  his  original  compositions  are 
invariably  taken  either  from  the  great  classical 
authors  or  from  the  Scriptures.  In  one  of  them 
called  "  The  Finding  of  Pheidippides  "  Pember's 
treatment    of    the  subject   is  so   characteristic 

2 


18 


that  I  should  like  to  dwell  on  it  for  a  moment. 
He  supposes  that  Pheidippides — the  great 
Athenian  runner,  mentioned  by  Herodotus 
as  having  run  from  Athens  to  Sparta,  a 
distance  of  150  miles,  in  two  days,  to  ask 
help  from  the  Lacedaemonians  against  the 
Persians — after  fighting  bravely  in  the  battles 
of  Marathon,  Salamis,  Artemisium  and  Plataea, 
retired  finally  from  public  life  under  the  stress 
of  an  overwhelming  personal  sorrow.  Two 
generations  later  Pheidippides  is  visited  in  his 
retirement  by  the  young  Alcibiades,  and  the 
poet  with  great  skill  draws  a  contrast  between 
the  differing  ideals  of  the  two  ages — the  simple 
and  unswerving  adherence  to  public  duty,  in 
the  representative  of  the  Marathon  epoch,  and 
the  brilliant,  restless,  sophistical  aims  that  came 
into  fashion  during  the  Peloponnesian  War. 
Nothing  can  be  more  admirable  than  the  way 
in  which  the  writer,  without  doing  any  violence 
to  historical  facts,  contrives  to  give  life  and 
reality  to  his  seemingly  remote  theme  by 
imparting  to  it  the  colour  of  modern  times  and 
of  his  own  personal  sympathies. 


19 


The  same  features  are  manifest  in  his 
"  Voyage  of  the  Phocaeans  " — the  first  of  his 
compositions  to  be  printed  for  the  enjoyment  of 
a  circle  of  private  friends — and  in  "  Jepthah's 
Daughter,"  which,  I  think,  was  his  latest  work. 
Indeed,  in  all  his  original  poems  the  reader  will 
find  the  quality  which  I  have  described  by  the 
word  "manliness";  that  love  of  pure,  simple, 
and  direct  diction,  which  was  probably  im- 
planted, or  at  least  encouraged,  in  Pember  by 
his  early  school  education,  and  was  doubtless 
confirmed  by  the  conditions  which  he  had  every 
day  to  satisfy  as  one  of  the  prominent  orators 
at  the  Parliamentary  Bar.  How  closely  his 
musical  instincts  coincided  with  his  literary 
taste  may  be  seen  from  his  choice,  for  the 
purposes  of  translation,  of  severe,  even  austere, 
authors  like  Aeschylus  and  Dante,  when  com- 
pared with  his  preference  for  the  early  Italian 
and  German  composers  in  the  sphere  of  music. 
On  the  whole  his  epic  and  dramatic  style  seems 
to  me  superior  to  his  lyrical  composition ;  but 
in  this  department,  too,  his  love  of  Nature  and 
his  power  of  simple  and  direct  expression  often 


20 


inspired  liim  very  happily,  as  in  stanzas  like 
these,  which  I  cite  from  a  poem  called 
"Winter": 

"  The  winter  day  is  dying*  like  the  year, 

With  warmth  enough  to  call  the  bats  around, 
Behind  our  hill  the  young  moon  rises  clear, 

And  the  swift  night  sweeps  up  without  a  sound. 

"  With  evening's  parting  crimson  on  her  breast, 
The  full-lipped  river  glimmers  in  the  meads ; 
The  hungry  snipe  runs  bleating  on  her  quest, 
And  cautious  wild-fowl  call  among  the  reeds. 

"  I  stand  alone  amid  the  gathering  gloom, 

While  all  the  changes  of  the  earth  and  sky 
Pass  over  me,  as  over  one  with  whom 

Proud  Nature  cares  not  to  keep  company." 

It  was  Pember's  genuine  and  prevailing  love 
for  healthy  and  masculine  art  which  led  to  his 
association  in  the  latter  days  of  his  life  with  the 
Royal  Society  of  Literature.  He  and  I  found 
from  our  conversation  that  a  common  course  of 
education  had  possessed  us  of  many  sympathies 
of  taste,  derived  mainly  from  the  study  of  the 
classical  writers,  not  only  of  Greece  and  Rome, 


21 

but  also  of  England  ;  tastes  which  we  knew  to 
be  shared  by  scholars  of  great  distinction,  such 
as  Richard  Claverhouse  Jebb,  Samuel  Henry- 
Butcher,  the  late  Lord  Collins,  and  many  others. 
At  the  same  time  we  saw  that  the  principles  on 
which  these  tastes  were  founded  were  in  danger 
of  being  impaired,  and  even  overAvhelmed,  by 
the  rush  and  pressure  of  modern  life,  and  that, 
if  they  were  to  be  preserved,  a  stricter  union 
among  those  who  valued  them  was  recpiired 
than  was  at  present  organised  on  their  behalf. 
Finding1  that  similar  considerations  had  also 
been  in  the  minds  of  those  who,  in  the  early 
part  of  the  last  century,  founded  the  Royal 
Society  of  Literature,  we  succeeded,  after 
neo-otiations  with  the  President  of  the  Society, 
Lord  Halsbury,  and  others  of  its  chief  officers, 
in  settina"  on  foot  a  movement  which  has 
effected  a  revision  of  its  rules,  and  has  given  it 
the  constitution  necessary  for  our  strictly  con- 
servative purposes.  In  this  movement  Pember 
was  the  protagonist.  His  wide  acquaintance 
with  men  of  action  and  culture  enabled  him  to 
obtain  the  co-operation  of  many  valuable  allies  ; 


22 

and  he  was,  further,  the  chief  instrument  in 
forming  within  the  Society  the  Academical 
Committee,  the  first  fruits  of  whose  labours  we 
to-day  welcome,  through  the  generosity  of  an 
enlightened  founder,  in  the  institution  of  the 
Polignac  Prize.  Pember,  as  the  prime  mover 
in  the  formation  of  this  body,  became  its  first 
secretary ;  he  devoted  unremitting  attention  to 
giving  it  life  and  character  •  and  I  am  confident 
that  I  speak  the  feelings  of  all  its  members 
when  I  say  that  no  greater  loss  could  have 
befallen  it  than  the  removal,  while  his  energies 
were  still  vigorous,  of  one  Avho,  in  his  creative 
faculty  as  well  as  in  his  critical  taste,  embodied 
so  much  of  what  is  best  in  the  history  and 
traditions  of  English  literature. 

I  feel  that  I  cannot  do  better  than  conclude 
my  very  inadequate  testimony,  with  the  tribute 
paid  by  the  greatest  of  Roman  orators  to  the 
genius  of  the  poet  Archias,  which  I  give  you 
in  the  admirable  rendering  of  my  friend,  the 
Master  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford  : 

"  You  ask  me  why  I  take  such  an  extra- 
ordinary delight  in  this  man  ?     It  is  because  lie 


23 

supplies  me  with  a  refuge  where  my  mind  can 
recruit  its  powers  after  the  din  of  the  Forum, 
and  where  my  ears,  tired  out  with  controversy, 
may  take  some  repose.  Do  you  think  that  a 
man  could  find  the  thoughts  to  express,  day 
after  day,  on  such  a  variety  of  topics,  unless  he 
cultivated  his  mind  by  study  ?  or  that  the  mind 
could  bear  the  strain,  unless  these  same  studies 
supplied  him  with  relaxation  ?  " 

If  Cicero  could  be  with  us  in  our  England 
of  to-day  he  would  acknowledge  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  his  words  to  be  more  fitly 
applied  than  to  the  memory  of  Edward  Henry 
Pember. 


THE  RIGHT  HON.  SIR  ALFRED 
COMYN  LYALL,  G.C.I.E.,  K.C.B, 
D.C.L. 

BY   G.    W.    L'ROTHERO,   LITT.I).,    LL.D. 

On  the  first  occasion  when  we  met  here  to 
do    honour    to    the    memory    of    a    departed 


24 

colleague,  Prof.  Gilbert  Murray  defined  so 
clearly  and  so  convincingly  the  principles  which 
should  regulate  an  address  of  this  nature  that 
his  successors  can  but  follow  in  his  steps.  We 
are  not  met  to  utter  or  to  hear  a  panegyric  on 
the  dead,  but  rather  to  attempt  a  just  estimate 
of  what  he  was  and  what  he  did,  and  not  so 
much  to  praise  as  to  try,  at  least,  to  compre- 
hend. That  this  is  a  difficult  task  in  the 
present  case  I  think  my  hearers  will  allow. 
So  delicate  were  the  shades  of  character  that 
went  to  make  up  a  rare  and  charming  per- 
sonality, so  varied  and  in  many  respects  so 
admirable  were  the  achievements  of  Sir  Alfred 
Lyall,  that  I  cannot  but  feel  how  inadequately 
I  am  equipped  to  play  the  part  of  judge. 
There  is  one  member  of  our  body  whose 
supreme  fitness  for  the  task  no  one  will  deny ; 
and  we  shall  all  regret,  no  one  more  acutely 
than  myself,  that  the  cares  of  State  and  other 
reasons  have  prevented  Lord  Morley  from 
undertaking  a  task  which  Lyall  himself,  we 
may  be  sure,  would  gladly  have  placed  in  his 
hands. 


25 

It  is  given  to  comparatively  few  to  be  both 
men  of  action  and  men  of  letters,  to  spend  the 
greater  part  of  an  energetic  life  in  the  service 
of  the  State,  and  to  attain  high  eminence  in 
the  world  of  philosophy  and  literature.  In  the 
annals  of  our  own  country  such  names  occur 
perhaps  more  frequently  than  elsewhere — the 
names  of  statesmen  or  administrators  who 
have  beguiled  their  leisure  and  widened  the 
circle  of  their  fame  by  literary  efforts  of  a  high, 
even  of  a  splendid  order.  It  is  a  long  and 
illustrious  line  that  extends  from  More  and 
Raleigh  and  Sidney  and  Bacon,  through 
Clarendon  and  Bolingbroke,  Burke  and 
Macaulay,  to  Disraeli  and  Gladstone.  And 
it  is  a  line  unbroken  still,  for  we  need  not  go 
beyond  this  room  to  find  living  examples  of 
men  who  have  attained  to  eminence  both  in 
letters  and  in  politics.  But  such  men,  in  com- 
parison with  those  whose  activities  are  limited 
to  one  or  the  other  sphere,  are  and  must  be 
rare.  I  would  not  indeed  be  understood  as 
wishing  to  place  Lyall  on  a  level,  in  regard  to 
either  his  political   or  his   literary   work,  with 


26 


the  great  men  whom  I  have  mentioned,  but 
he  is  of  their  kind;  and  it  is  his  first  and 
most  obvious  distinction  that  lie  is  to  be 
placed,  if  only  as  a  minor  star,  in  that  brilliant 
constellation. 

Of  his  public  work,  even  were  I  in  a  position 
to  estimate  it  except  at  second  hand,  this  is 
not  the  place  to  treat  at  length.  The  Society 
on  whose  behalf  I  have  been  chosen  to  speak 
is  concerned  with  literature,  not  with  politics 
and  administration.  But  in  any  judgment  of 
Lyall  as  a  man  of  letters,  it  is  a  fact  to  be 
remembered  that  nearly  fifty  years — two-thirds 
of  his  life — were  spent  in  the  service  of  the 
State,  either  at  home  or  abroad.  It  is  a  fact 
to  be  borne  in  mind,  because  in  the  first  place 
such  public  activity  leaves,  as  a  rule,  but  little 
leisure  or  mental  energy  for  other  tasks,  and 
because,  in  the  second  place,  it  was  his  almost 
life-long  connection  with  one  great  department 
of  government  that  determined  the  bent  of  his 
studies,  and  supplied,  in  one  way  01*  another, 
the  subject-matter  of  almost  all  his  literary 
Avork. 


27 

Going   out   to     India    in    1856    as    a    Civil 
Servant,  with  the  prospect  of  peaceful   duties 
before  him,  he  was  almost  immediately  plunged 
into  the  fierce  tumult  of  a  soldier's  life.     On 
the  outbreak  of  the  Mutiny,  he,  like  others  in 
his  position,  exchanged  the  pen  for  the  sword, 
and  won  special  mention  in  despatches  for  Ins 
"  excellent  services  "  in  the  field.     The  Mutiny 
suppressed,  Lyall  returned  to  his  civilian  duties 
and    to    the    task    of    rendering    the    foreign 
blessings  of  peace  and  order  as  little  unpalatable 
as  they  might  be  to  the  reluctant  populations 
committed  to   his  charge.     His   abilities   were 
recognised,  and  he  rose  rapidly  to  positions  of 
great   and   greater    responsibility.      As    Com- 
missioner of  Berar,  as  Agent  in  Rajputana,  as 
Home     Secretary    and    subsequently    Foreign 
Secretary  to  the  Indian  Government,  finally  as 
Lieutenant-Governor  of  the  North- West  Pro- 
vinces, he  had  ample  opportunities  of  studying 
from  many  sides  the  working  of  the  vast  and 
intricate   machine   of    State,   of    forming  con- 
clusions on  the  largest  questions  of  policy  and 
o-overnment,  and  of  collecting  those  stores  of 


28 


knowledge  concerning  native  religion,  law  and 
thought  which  in  his  'Asiatic  Studies  '  be  turned 
to  such  admirable  account.  We  are  justified, 
indeed,  in  supposing  that  the  observation  of 
facts  and  the  formation  of  ideas  respecting  the 
peoples  of  India  were  to  him  the  chief  allevia- 
tion of  laborious  years,  the  reward  for  constant 
immersion  in  administrative  details  for  which 
he  had  little  taste.  It  ma}T  be  gathered  that, 
though  he  rilled  high  and  important  posts, 
and  filled  them  with  success  and  honour,  his 
administrative  career  did  not  confer  on  him 
any  special  title  to  fame.  It  was  as  a  coun- 
sellor that  he  specially  excelled.  His  services 
to  India  were  by  no  means  ended  when  he 
finally  left  that  country  in  1888,  for,  as  a 
member  of  the  India  Council,  he  brought 
thenceforward,  for  the  space  of  fifteen  years, 
his  wisdom  and  ripe  experience  to  the  aid  of 
successive  Secretaries  of  State.  It  stands  on 
good  authoritv  that  among  the  advisers  of  the 
Indian  Government  no  voice  more  influential 
than  his  was  heard.  He  saw  both  sides  of 
every  question  that  came  before  him;   and  a 


29 


high  officer  of  State  once  remarked  that,  when- 
ever an  important  step  was  to  be  taken,  he 
never  failed  to  consult  Lyall  with  particular 
care,  for  from  him  he  was  certain  to  gather  all 
that  could  reasonably  be  urged  against  the 
course  proposed. 

The  discharge  of  grave  and  onerous  duties 
in  the  continuous  employment  of  the  State 
from  early  youth  to  age  leaves  but  little  time 
for  the  pursuit  of  literature.  But  Lyall  made 
the  best  use  of  such  leisure  as  he  enjoyed  ;  and, 
long  before  he  left  India  for  good,  his  name 
was  known  as  that  of  an  original  thinker  on 
difficult  and  abstruse  topics,  a  diligent  and  pro- 
ductive student,  and  a  writer  gifted  with  real 
distinction  of  style.  His  literary  output  is  indeed 
not  large  in  bulk;  quantity  was,  in  the  circum- 
stances, not  to  be  expected ;  but  its  quality  is, 
without  exception,  admirable,  and  it  exhibits 
unusual  variety.  As  historian  and  biographer, 
as  essayist  and  poet,  in  narrative  and  in 
argument,  in  research  and  in  exposition,  in  the 
lighter  as  well  as  in  the  graver  veins  of 
literature,   he  alike  excelled;  and,  on  whatever 


30 


subject  he  may  be  engaged,  his  writing  illu- 
minates, charms,  persuades.  Whether,  with 
Jowett,  we  hold  that  style  is  connection,  or 
describe  it,  with  Aristotle,  as  the  art  of 
saying  things  plainly  without  meanness,  in- 
deed whatever  definition  of  style  we  adopt, 
Lyall  possessed,  in  no  small  degree,  that 
supreme  gift  of  authorship  ;  and,  in  his  case,  the 
style  undoubtedly  was  the  man.  His  writings 
exhibit  an  abundance  of  both  thought  and 
knowledge ;  but  it  is  thought  which  has  run 
clear,  and  knowledge  which  does  not  encumber 
but  supports.  It  is  a  style  free  from  eccentri- 
cities, devoid  of  rhetoric,  superfluous  ornament, 
or  forced  antithesis.  It  is  restrained,  tranquil 
and  unaffected,  elevated  without  pomposity, 
simple  without  commonness,  charming  without 
familiarity,  polished  but  not  precious,  attractive 
without  any  apparent  effort  to  attract ;  in  short, 
the  style  of  a  man  who  has  things  to  say  that 
are  worth  hearing,  and  says  them  as  they 
should  be  said,  with  due  consideration  for  the 
subject,  his  hearers  and  himself. 

Lyall's  personality  shows    itself   in    all   his 


31 

work,    most  of  all,  perhaps,  in   those    Asiatic 
Studies  which  are  his  chief  title  to  fame.     And 
it  was  a  rich   and    complex   personality,    shot 
with  strange  hues  and   somewhat  bewildering 
contrasts,  with  its  underlying  strain  of  melan- 
choly   and    its    delicate    sensibility,    its    veiled 
humour   and   gentle   irony;     too   sceptical  for 
enthusiasm,  too  critical  for  worship ;  tempera- 
mentally    indolent     but     intellectually     alert ; 
humble    but    independent;    emotional    but   in- 
tensely sane ;    bold    in   speculation,    in    action 
cautious,  even  hesitating ;  reserved  and  a  little 
chilling   to  the  newcomer,  but  capable  of  un- 
bosoming itself  with  warm  affection  to  intimate 
friends ;  easy  and  fascinating  in  conversation, 
but  preserving  always  a  certain  aloofness  from 
the  outer  world.     These  essays  of  his  betray 
rather  than  enforce  his  subtle  appreciation  of 
motives  and  points  of  view  alien  to  the  western 
mind,  and  his  deep  sympathy  with  the  passive 
and  unchanging  East,  strangely  combined  with 
the  consciousness  that  he  himself  is  the  official 
representative  of  the  bustling,  the  revolutionary 
West.     He  cannot  dismiss  his  doubts  as  to  the 


32 


efficacy  of  human  efforts  after  progress,  and  is 
yet  convinced  that  for  the  sake  of  society  such 
efforts  must  be  made.  He  perceives  the  irony 
of  fate ;  and  a  tinge  of  fatalism  habitually 
colours  his  estimate  of  all  endeavour.  He 
regrets  the  old  order  that  changeth,  giving 
place  to  new ;  he  casts  back  a  wistful  glance  at 
the  primitive,  the  uncivilised,  the  free.  He 
hopes  that  the  inevitable  change  may  be,  he 
enjoys  no  certainty  that  it  will  be,  an  advance 
towards  the  greater  happiness  of  mankind. 

It  is  the  clash  of  East  and  West,  the  contrast 
between  European  and  Asiatic  ideals,  the 
differences  in  the  social  order,  in  methods  of 
government,  above  all,  in  religion,  between  our- 
selves and  our  fellow-citizens  in  that  vast 
and  varied  continent  which  we  call  India,  that 
form  the  main  subject  of  these  brilliant  volumes. 
Above  all,  I  may  repeat,  it  was  religion  that 
attracted  Lyall's  attention  ;  and  for  the  student 
of  comparative  religion,  for  all  who  desire  to 
know,  in  particular,  the  religious  mind  of  the 
Hindu,  his  work  has  rightly  become  a  classic. 
Whether  he  would  ever  have  had  the  industry 


33 

and  perseverance  to  amplify  and  combine  these 
essays   into    a   great    work    on    Indian    or    on 
comparative  religion  may  perhaps  be  doubted. 
Even  in  other  circumstances  a  work  de  longue 
haleine  might  have  been  beyond  his  powers  or 
his    inclination.       Nevertheless   it    is    evident 
throughout  that  he  draws  from  a  wide  reservoir 
of  knowledge,  by  no  means  confined  to  India. 
He  brings  Grote  and  Mill  and  Buckle  to  the 
bar    of    accurate    scientific    observation.       He 
forms  his  own  conclusions  as  to  the  source  of 
religious  myths,  and  upholds  the  notion  of  their 
historical  origin  against  that  of  a  personification 
of  natural  forces.     "Within    the  domain  of  re- 
ligion," he  remarks,  "as  sometimes  within  that 
of  history,  it  is  worth  while  to  point  out  the 
danger  of  carrying  too  far  the  method    which 
obliterates  the  influence  of  persons,  and  ascribes 
all  movement  to  general   causes,    physical    or 
metaphysical." 

In  one  of  the  most  instructive  of  his  essays 
he  sets  forth  the  contrast  between  East  and 
West  in  their  views  on  the  connection  between 
religion  and  morality.     In  India,  he  remarks, 


34 


a  theological  sanction  is  necessary  to  every 
social  advance,  to  every  change  of  custom. 
Vaccination  without  the  aid  of  theology  is 
doomed  to  fail.  But  the  Hindu,  like  the  Greek, 
is  apt  to  separate  religion  and  morality.  The 
Jews  founded  religion  on  righteousness,  and, 
at  least  in  the  later  days  of  Hebraism,  attri- 
buted, according  to  their  lights,  the  highest 
virtues  to  Jehovah.  Christianity  confirmed, 
this  connection,  giving  it  a  still  more  spiritual 
content.  But  in  the  East  morality  demands  no 
explanation,  no  leading,  from  theology.  The 
Hindu  can  see  no  benevolent  God  in  nature  ; 
he  predicates  no  virtue  in  the  Almighty  powers  ; 
he  worships,  but  from  fear,  not  love.  And 
these  views  Lyall,  in  his  practical  way,  is  in- 
clined to  connect  with  social  and  material 
conditions.  Mill  asserts  that  the  lot  of  man  can- 
not be  improved  without  a  fundamental  change 
in  modes  of  thought.  Lyall  maintains  that  the 
converse  is  rather  true.  Change  the  conditions, 
and  religion  and  morality  will  follow.  I  imagine 
that  Lecky — so  at  least  we  may  infer  from  his 
treatises  on  the  growth  of  rationalism  and  of 


35 

morals — would    have    been    inclined    to    agree 
with  Lyall. 

I  have  referred  to  Lyall's  practical  side  ;  and 
it  is  remarkable  that  in  these  discussions 
of  ideas,  of  customs,  of  social  and  religious 
views  he  does  not  lose  sight  of  their  applica- 
bility to  the  problems  of  government.  These 
volumes  are  not  mere  contributions  to  science 
and  philosophy;  they  abound  in  practical  reflec- 
tions on  the  nature  and  results  of  the  British 
dominion  in  India,  and  on  the  line  of  conduct 
which  it  should  pursue  in  view  of  existing  social 
and  religious  conditions. 

How  far  the  views  which  Lyall  puts  into 
the  mouth  of  Vamadeo  Shastri,  the  Brahmin 
educated  in  the  learning  of  the  East  and  of  the 
West,  represent  his  own  sentiment,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  say.  They  are,  at  all  events,  so 
representative  of  the  Hindu  mind  that  a  learned 
Babu  is  .  said,  on  good  authority,  to  have 
taken  them  for  the  genuine  utterances  of  a 
compatriot.  Nevertheless  Lyall  is  assuredly 
thinking  of  himself  when  he  makes  Vamadeo 
say,  "  The   truth  is,  I   am  rather  of  a   melan- 


36 

choly  and  vaguely  speculative  temperament "  ; 
and  again,  "  I  am  plagued  by  the  inveterate 
habit  of  regarding  all  sublunary  matters  from 
the  religious  point  of  view."  We  might  even 
go  so  far  as  to  suppose  that,  in  one  of  his 
sceptical  moods,  he  would  have  applauded  the 
remark,  "  Politics  I  cannot  help  regarding  as 
the  superficial  aspect  of  deeper  problems; 
and  for  progress,  the  latest  incarnation  of 
European  materialism,  I  have  an  incurable 
distrust." 

With  the  grave  but  gentle  irony  that  becomes 
an  Eastern  sage,  Vamadeo  hints  that  the 
benefits  which  the  Hindu  derives  from  an 
English  education  are  balanced  by  some  serious 
defects  ;  that  popular  religion  is  being  under- 
mined and  nothing  put  in  its  place;  that 
materialism  is  making  rapid  progress,  while 
the  government  opposes  to  it  no  higher  aims. 
He  is  apprehensive  of  what  may  come  of  the 
impending  religious  anarchy ;  as  one  who  has 
studied  the  habitual  practice  of  eastern 
potentates,  recognised  by  their  subjects  as 
essential  to  order  and  control,  he  cannot  under- 


stand  the  attitude  of  neutrality — that  is,  as  they 
regard  it,  of  negation — adopted  by  the  British 
Raj ;  why,  he  asks,  should  religion  actuate 
individuals  but  not  governments  ?  And  it 
would  be  a  dangerous  mistake  to  regard 
Brahminism,  with  Max  Midler,  as  a  moribund 
religion.  On  the  contrary,  it  propagates  itself 
perpetually  by  a  natural  process  of  absorption 
— natural  because  of  its  very  vagueness  and 
undogmatic  elasticity.  In  one  of  those 
luminous  generalisations  which  Vamadeo  must 
surely  have  borrowed  from  Lyall,  he  points 
out  that,  while  religious  ideas  have  arisen  in  the 
East,  the  systematic  organisation — the  crystal- 
lising, one  may  say — of  religion  comes  from  the 
West.  The  Hindu  cannot  regard  dogma  as 
final ;  he  is  speculating  still  upon  those  ques- 
tions which  occupied  the  attention  of  the  Early 
Church.  And,  we  are  left  to  infer,  he  will 
continue,  whatever  we  do,  to  speculate. 

To  this  practical  problem  of  the  attitude  of 
the  State  towards  religion  Lyall  more  than 
once  returns.  In  one  essay  he  illustrates  it  by 
the    practice    of     China,    where    three    great 


38 

religions  receive  State  recognition,  and  willingly 
submit  to  a  certain  amount  of  State  control; 
where,  through  the  practice  of  deifying  benefi- 
cent men,  Hades  itself  becomes,  as  he  puts  it, 
an  outlying  province  of  the  empire;  and  where, 
by  the  combination  of  spiritual  and  temporal 
powers,  the  Emperor  is  the  veritable  keystone 
of  the  arch  of  State.    In  another  essay,  through 
which  runs  a  delicate   vein  of  humour,  never 
obtruded,  but  rather  resembling  the  aroma  of 
those   onion  atoms  which,  in   Sydney  Smith's 
famous    recipe,     "permeate     the    bowl,"    he 
sketches    the    vacillations    of    British    policy 
in  regard  to  the  Hindu  religions,  and  implies 
rather   than  asserts  that  we    have   committed 
a    grave    error  in    surrendering    all    religious 
control.     In  the  chaos  which  now  exists,  vast 
changes,  he  thinks,  may  rapidly  occur ;  there  is 
danger  of  a  great  religious   explosion.     Some 
aspects    of  the   recent   troubles   in  India  add 
special  force  to  this  warning ;  but  Lyall's  con- 
clusion is  clear.      It  is  our  duty  to  hold  the 
balance  level  and  to  keep  control.     "  If  ever," 
he  asserts,  "  the  imperial  system  was  necessary 


BO 

and  fitted  to  a  time  and  country,  it  is  to  India 
as  we  see  it  now." 

It  may  well  be  surmised  that  this  conviction 
owed  no    little    of  its    cogency  to  the  careful 
study  which  Lyall  devoted  to  the  history  of  our 
Indian   Empire.       His   admirable  qualities    as 
an   historian  are   displayed  in   his  well-known 
work  on    '  The    Rise    and  Expansion    of    the 
British  Dominion  in  India.'      The  story  of  that 
wonderful   and  romantic   achievement  has  not 
always   been   told    with    the   detachment    and 
impartiality  which  the  subject  demands.     It  is 
easy   to   condemn   the    actions    of    great    men 
entrusted   with  the  care  of    vast  interests   in 
remote    countries,    amid     barbaric     or    semi- 
civilised    peoples,    under    all    the    temptations 
which    absolute  power    in  such   circumstances 
presents;  and,  no  doubt,  in  the  establishment 
of   British   Dominion,  especially  in  its  earlier 
days,  deeds  were   done  which  are  incapable  of 
justification.     But  in  their  dealing  with  such 
matters  great  writers — notably  James  Mill  and 
Macaulay  —  have    imported    prejudices    detri- 
mental  to    historic  truth ;    and   through    their 


40 

influence    public   opinion   lias   for    generations 
suffered  serious  distortion. 

No  better  corrective  of  such  errors  can  be 
found  than  that  which  is  supplied  by  Lyall's 
historical  works.  His  training  eminently  fitted 
him  for  the  formation  of  those  large  and  sane 
views  in  which  he  excels.  A  remark  which  he 
makes  in  his  'Life  of  Lord  Dufferin'  might  well 
have  been  applied  to  himself.  "  Practical 
politics,"  he  says,  "  personal  intercourse  with 
statesmen,  travel,  and  experience  of  government 
in  different  stages  of  civilisation  are  better 
than  erudition  for  a  real  understanding1  of 
Greek  and  Roman  (and  he  might  have  added 
of  Indian)  civilisation."  His  History  of  British 
India  is  indeed  unique  among  treatises  on  this 
subject  in  its  impartiality,  its  sane  and  con- 
vincing judgments,  its  comprehensive  grasp, 
its  sense  of  proportion,  its  perception  of  what 
matters  and  what  does  not,  the  clearness  and 
connection  of  its  narrative,  the  philosophical 
exposition  of  causes  and  results.  It  does  not, 
indeed,  pretend  to  be  based  on  original  re- 
search, nor  does  it  add  largely  to  our  know- 


41 

ledge  of  events;  but  it  teaches  us  how  to 
connect  facts,  and  how  to  draw  the  right  con- 
clusions. The  writing  may  not  possess  the 
sparkle  which  we  have  come  to  regard  as  bril- 
liancy— a  quality  which  may  easily  be  rated 
too  high  ;  but,  what  is  far  better,  it  shines 
throughout  with  clarity  of  phrase  and  the  dry 
light  of  historic  truth. 

Nor  does  the  author  confine  himself  solely 
to  the  past.  In  the  final  chapter  of  the  most 
recent  edition — almost  the  last  thing  that  he 
wrote — he  discusses  the  nature  and  weighs  the 
results  of  the  latest  phases  of  British  policy 
in  India.  He  would  steadily  uphold  the  rights 
of  the  native  states,  and  recognise  their 
limited  but  real  autonomy.  He  approves  the 
policy  of  the  "  buffer-state,"  and  insists  on  the 
necessity  of  a  protectorate  or  quasi-protectorate 
over  the  wild  peoples  who  fringe  our  frontier 
from  the  Shan  States  to  Beluchistan.  The 
cautious  wisdom  of  the  Liberal-Conservative 
statesman  appears  in  his  recognition  at  once  of 
the  necessity  and  of  the  risks  of  constitutional 
reform ;    the  outcome  of  his   whole    survey  is 


42 

seen  in  the  confident  affirmation  that  the 
alliance  between  England  and  India  "  cannot 
now  be  interrupted  or  impaired  without  irre- 
parable injury  to  both  nations." 

His  short '  Life  of  Warren  Hastings  '  presents 
the  same  qualities  as  his  history,  concentrated 
on  a  narrower  field.  The  story  derives  an 
enhanced  vividness  from  the  grouping  of  facts 
round  a  single  heroic  figure,  and  from  the 
romantic  nature  of  one  of  the  most  stirring' 
episodes  in  the  annals  of  Hindustan.  The 
contentious  character  of  the  subject,  so  long 
the  battle-field  of  party-strife,  of  ignorance  and 
political  prejudice,  affords  peculiar  scope  to 
Lyall's  serene  judgment  and  scrupulous  im- 
partiality. "Men,"  he  justly  reminds  us, 
"  appointed  to  govern  distant  and  unsettled 
provinces  .  .  .  are  more  like  naval  com- 
manders on  the  high  seas  than  constitutional 
governors " ;  and  judgment  must  be  dealt 
accordingly.  Tf  of  any  biography  it  may 
truly  be  asserted  that  it  "nothing  extenuates, 
nor  aught  sets  down  in  malice,"  it  may  be 
asserted  of  this.   It  is  no  panegyric  of  Hastings ; 


43 

it  does  him  full  justice,  and  no  more.  Since 
the  book  was  written,  the  publication  of  certain- 
important  documents  has  necessarily  modified 
some  few  of  Lyall's  statements ;  while  the 
subsequent  publication  of  Admiral  Mahan's 
great  work  enabled  him  to  fill  up,  in  the 
'  History,'  a  serious  gap  left  by  the  smaller  book 
in  the  narrative  of  the  war  with  France.  But 
such  details  do  not  appreciably  impair  the 
merits  of  this  illuminating  little  book — a  book 
which  admirably  corrects  the  perversions  or 
mistakes  of  Burke  and  Sheridan,  of  Macaulay 
and  Mill,  and  incidentally  disposes  of  the  gibe 
once  uttered,  I  think,  by  Seeley— that  India 
was  conquered  in  a  fit  of  absence  of  mind. 

Two  other  essays  in  biography  Lyall  made 
— a  sketch  of  Tennyson  and  his  works  in  a 
well-known  series,  and  a  full-length  life  of 
Lord  Dufferin,  some  time  Governor  of  India. 
In  both  these  tasks  he  enjoyed  the  advantage 
of  personal  intimacy  with  his  subjects.  He 
had  served  in  responsible  positions  under  Lord 
Dufferin  in  India ;  he  had  long  been  a  friend 
of  Tennyson,  and  it  was  in  his  son's  house  that 


44 

he  died.  Lord  Dufferin's  public  career  was 
one  that  could  well  bear  the  full  light  of  day, 
and  might  be  narrated  without  those  silences 
which  are  not  infrequent  in  official  biographies. 
It  is  a  fascinating  life-story,  attractive  not 
only  from  the  personal  charm  and  the  brilliant 
if  somewhat  superficial  accomplishments  of  its 
hero,  but  still  more  from  the  extraordinary 
variety  of  Lord  Dufferin's  employments  and 
the  complexity  of  the  interests  which  in  Syria 
and  Egypt,  in  Canada  and  India,  at  Constanti- 
nople, at  Paris,  and  at  Rome  were  committed 
to  his  charge.  With  full  mastery  of  the  facts, 
with  his  customary  lucidity  and  sense  of  pro- 
portion, with  equal  facility  and  felicity  of 
expression,  Lyall  follows  his  subject  through 
these  varied  scenes.  On  the  episode  of  the 
Viceroyalty  he  speaks  with  first-hand  know- 
ledge ;  and  this  is  the  most  valuable  portion  of 
a  work  which  has  hardly  enjoyed,  in  popular 
estimation,  the  success  that,  in  my  opinion,  it 
deserves.  Nevertheless,  when  all  is  said,  it 
can  hardly  be  asserted  that  the  '  Life  of  Lord 
Dufferin  '    enjoys    any    superlative    distinction 


45 

among  works  of  a  similar  nature.  It  is  good  ; 
if  another  had  written  it,  one  might  say  it  is 
very  good  ;  but  it  does  not  display  the  author 
at  his  very  best. 

In  the  short  life  of  Tennyson,  Lyall  under- 
took a  difficult  task — to  sketch  the  life  and  to 
estimate  the  work  of  the  greatest  poet  of  our 
generation.  With  all  its  merits — and  it  has 
great  merits — it  is  perhaps  the  least  successful 
of  his  books.  On  the  poet's  life  he  adds,  and 
could  be  expected  to  add,  nothing  of  impor- 
tance to  the  full  biography  which  had  preceded. 
In  discussing  the  poetry  of  Tennyson  there 
was  more  room  for  originality  ;  but  the  criticism 
cannot  be  said  to  be  original.  The  book  labours 
under  a  disadvantage  almost  inseparable  from 
the  dual  task  to  which  I  have  referred,  in  that 
the  criticisms  are  broken  up  and  interspersed 
among  the  successive  chapters  of  the  life,  so 
that  we  nowhere  obtain  a  summary  estimate  or 
presentation  of  the  poetry  as  a  whole ;  while, 
in  regard  to  some,  at  least,  of  the  later  poems, 
one  cannot  suppress,  when  reading  between  the 
lines,  the  suspicion  that,  had  the  critic  felt  per- 


46 

fectly  free  to  say  what  was  in  bis  mind,,  he 
would  have  spoken  in  a  somewhat  different 
tone.  It  was  Lyall's  only  essay  in  the  difficult 
art  of  criticism ;  and,  though  his  remarks  show 
wide  reading  in  poetical  literature,  and,  espe- 
cially in  regard  to  the  philosophical  poems,  a 
keen  and  appreciative  judgment,  we  miss  that 
penetrative  flash  of  insight,  those  profound 
generalisations,  that  vivid  perception  of  con- 
cealed affinities,  by  which  a  great  critic  would 
have  enabled  us  not  only  to  comprehend  the 
writer,  but  to  place  him  in  the  long  line 
of  those  who  have  developed  and  ennobled 
English  song. 

Lyall  himself  deserves  a  place,  if  but  a 
subordinate  place,  in  this  noble  line.  His  one 
slender  volume  of  verse  contains  true  poetry, 
the  musical  expression  of  genuine  poetic  amo- 
tion called  forth,  for  the  most  part,  by  incidents 
of  his  career  in  India.  Some  of  the  most 
striking  pieces  enshrine  the  memories  of  the 
Mutiny,  in  the  suppression  of  which  he  took 
part.  But  it  is  not  the  fierce,  joy  of  Qombat  or 
the  elation  of  victory  that  inspires  his  Muse;  it 


47 

is  rather  the  tender  melancholy  engendered  by 
some  pathetic  episode,  the  recollection  of  some 
vain  and  forgotten  deed  of  heroism,  and  a 
generous  sympathy  with  the  defeated  cause. 
And,  what  is  of  special  interest  to  ns  on  this 
occasion,  the  poems  show  the  inner  heart  of  the 
man — that  heart  which  Lyall  certainly  did  not 
wear  upon  his  sleeve.  It  is  true  that  we  must 
not  expect  to  find  either  the  grace  and  finish 
of  Tennyson  or  the  hammer-stroke  and  preg- 
nant force  of  Browning,  the  voluptuous  melodies 
of  Swinburne,  or  the  clear-cut  imagery  of 
Rossetti.  Lyall  is  not  to  be  ranked  with  these 
great  contemporaries ;  his  poetry  is  on  a  lower 
plane.  Poetry,  we  must  remember,  was  not 
his  profession,  but  the  distraction  of  his  lighter 
hours,  and  that  only  while  ho  was  still  young. 
Nevertheless  the  true  lyric  emotion  is  there — 
in  the  visions  of  Indian  scenes  whose  haunting 
sadness  will  not  die,  in  the  feeling  for  the 
ancient  races  and  the  vanished  or  vanishing 
traditions  of  a  romantic  past,  in  the  suppressed 
longing  of  the  exile  for  home.  Many,  and 
perhaps  the  best,.of  these  little  poems  are  semi- 


48 

dramatic ;  that  is,  they  represent  thoughts  and 
feelings  which  are  not  Lyall's  own,  but  into 
which  he  entered  with  an  extraordinary  power 
of  assimilation.  In  one,  it  is  the  Hindu  prince 
who  meditates  upon  by-gone  splendours  and 
the  riddle  of  what  is  to  come. 

"  Here  are  the  tombs  of  my  kinsfolk,  the  fruit  of  an 

ancient  name, 
Chiefs  who  were  slain  on  the  war-field,  and  women 

who  died  in  flame  ; 
They  are  gods,  these  kings  of  the  foretime ;   they 

are  spirits  who  guard  our  race ; 
Ever  I  watch  and  worship ;  they  sit  with  a  marble 

face. 

"Is  life,  then,  a  dream  and  delusion,  and  where  shall 

the  dreamer  awake  ? 
Is  the  world  seen  like  shadows  on  water  ?  and  what 

if  the  mirror  break  ? 
Shall  it  pass  as  a  camp  that  is  struck,  as  a  tent  that 

is  gathered  and  gone 
From  the  sands  that  were  lamp-lit  at  eve,  and  at 

morning  are  level  and  lone  ?  " 

In  another  it  is  the  aged  Rajput  chief  who, 
clinging  to  the  ancient  ways,  submits  with 
oriental  fatalism  to  the  new — 


49 

"  I  can  but  follow  my  fathers'  rule  ; 
I  cannot  learn  in  an  English  school. 
Yet  the  hard  world  softens,  and  change  is  best ; 

My  sons  must  leave  the  ancient  ways ; 
The  folk  are  weary,  the  land  shall  rest, 

And  the  gods  are  kind,  for  I  end  my  days." 

Or,  again,  it  is  Siva — 

"  the  God  of  the  sensuous  fire, 
That  moulds  all  nature  in  forms  divine — " 

Siva,  who  knows  that,  whatever  happens, 
his  worship  will  remain,  for  it  enshrines  under 
barbaric  forms  a  philosophy  of  eternal  things — 

"  Let  my  temples  fall — they  are  dark  with  age ; 

Let  my  idols  break — they  have  had  their  day; 
On  their  deep-hewn  stones  the  primeval  sage 

Has  figured  the  spells  that  endure  alwa}r. 
My  presence  shall  vanish  from  river  and  grove, 

But  I  rule  for  ever  in  Death  and  Love." 

Finally,  it  is  the  West  that  says  to  the 
East— 

"The  lightning  that  shivers,  the  storms  that  sweep, 
The  wide  full  flood  and  the  drowning-  waves — 


50 

Still  do  ye  fear  them,  and  worship  and  weep  ? 
They  are  still  your  gods  ?     They  shall  be  your 

slaves. 

:c  Ye  have  courted  them    vainly   with  passion   and 
prayer  • 
Their  gifts  are  but  silence  and  infinite  rest ; 
If  the  heavens  are  empty  the  earth  may  be  fair ; 
There  is  one  life  only,  so  labour  is  best." 

And  the  East  replies — 
"  If  the  lords  of  our  life  be  pleasure  and  pain, 

And  the  earth  is  their  kingdom,  and  none  may 
flee, 
Ye  may  take  their  wages  who  wear  their  chain  ; 
I  may  serve  them  never,  and  sleep  is  free. 

"  Ye  shall  float  and  fade  in  the  world  of  sense, 
As  the  clouds  that  hover,  the  rays  that  gleam ; 
No  hand  shows  whither,  no  tongue  says  whence — 
Let  me  rest  nor  be  troubled,  if  all  is  dream." 

That  strange  and  undying  contrast  none  has 
felt,  in  our  time  at  least,  more  keenly  than 
Lyall;  none  has  expressed  it  with  greater  charm 
and  power.  Had  he  died  among  the  primitive 
peoples  whom  he  ruled  and  loved,  his  own 
theory  of  myth  and  religion  might  have  been 
realised  in  his  person.     He  might — may  we  not 


51 

imagine? — have  become  a  deified  spirit  and 
been  raised  to  the  dim  and  populous  Pantheon 
of  the  Hindu  gods,  as  one  who  fused  in  himself, 
to  an  unparalleled  degree,  the  thought,  the 
ideals,  the  longings  of  the  eastern  and  the 
western  worlds. 


The  Chaikman  :  We  are  grateful  to  Mr. 
Courthope  and  Mr.  Prothero  for  having  spoken 
as  they  have  spoken,  and  as  we  should  have 
wished.  It  is  not  for  us  to  say  anything  in 
words,  but  to  think.  1  will  now  pass  to  the 
next  part  of  the  business,  and  that  is,  the 
announcement  of  the  nature  of  the  prize  which 
the  Princess  de  Polignac  has  founded  for  the 
advancement  of  the  objects  of  the  Academic 
Committee.  The  Princess  desires  that  this 
endowment  should  be  a  memorial  to  the 
name  of  her  husband,  the  late  Prince  de 
Polignac,  himself   one  whose   interest  in,   and 


52 

sympathy  with,  literature  and  art  were  of 
the  keenest.  And  she  has  taken  the  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  something  else.  Her  own 
feeling  was  for  forming  literature  and  for 
style,  and  she  has  wished  to  help  this  Committee 
in  its  object  of  bringing  to  the  front  the  forma- 
tion of  literature  and  style.  She  has  chosen 
the  Committee  as  the  instrument  through 
which  her  object  may  be  accomplished,  and 
she  has  founded  this  prize  and  also  an  en- 
dowment for  the  Committee.  She  has  given 
us  for  five  years  the  annual  sum  of  £150  for 
the  purpose  of  the  Committee,  and  of  that 
£100  is  to  be  devoted  annually  to  a  prize,  the 
object  of  which  I  will  presently  explain. 
It  is  a  generous  gift  this,  a  generous  endow- 
ment. (Applause.)  I  am  expressing,  I 
believe,  the  sense  of  all  of  you  when  I  convey 
your  thanks  to  the  Princess,  who  is  present,  not 
only  for  the  gift,  but  for  the  spirit  and  ideas 
with  which  it  has  been  accompanied.  (Ap- 
plause.) Now,  here  are  the  conditions  which 
attach  to  the  prize.  I  need  not  tell  you  that 
its  one  purpose  is  the  encouragement  of  style, 


53 

and  it  is  to  be  a  single  prize  of  £100,  given 
in  each  year,  and  not  to  be  divided.  It  is  to 
be  given  to  an  author  in  respect  of  a  particular 
piece  of  work,  a  particular  book.  The  book 
selected  must  belong  to  the  current  year,  must 
have  been  published  in  the  calendar  year  ended 
December  31st  preceding  the  award,  which  is 
to  be  made  in  November  each  year.  What  we 
hope  to  do  is  to  crown  a  piece  of  work  for  each 
literary  year.  The  award  is  to  have  special 
regard,  not  to  the  past  of  the  author,  nor  even 
necessarily  to  his  present,  but  to  his  future,  and 
what  the  judges  are  to  look  for  is  literary 
promise.  What  we  wish  is  to  distinguish  those 
to  whom  we  shall  look  in  the  future  for 
sustained  credit  for  British  literature.  No 
author  will  receive  the  prize  twice;  that  almost 
follows  from  what  I  have  said.  And  I  need  not 
say  that  we  do  not  confer  the  prize  on  ourselves. 
(Laughter.)  The  Academic  Committee  are 
excluded.  Nor  do  we  desire  any  applications  or 
recommendations.  They  will  be  counted  for  un- 
righteousness on  the  part  of  those  who  send  them 
in.    (Laughter.)    There  is  a  Heading  Committee 


54 

which  is  appointed,  which  makes  suggestions  to 
the  Academic  Committee,  and  guides  it  in  the 
bestoAval  of  the  prize.  Those  are  the  conditions 
which  have  been  approved  by  the  Princess  for 
the  regulation  of  this  prize,  the  Edmond  de 
Polignac  prize  for  the  advancement  of  form  in 
literature.  And  I  say  again  that  it  is  an  endow- 
ment as  valuable  as  it  is  generous,  and  I  hope 
much  good  will  come  from  it.  (Applause.) 
And  now  I  come  to  mention  the  first  fruits  of 
this.  The  Committee  have  selected,  after 
much  consideration,  Mr.  Walter  de  la  Mare  as 
the  one  on  whom  their  choice  has  fallen  for 
this  year,  and  that  in  respect  of  a  particular 
work  within  the  rule,  the  book  known  as  '  The 
Return,'  which  he  has  recently  published.  I 
have  the  pleasure  of  congratulating  Mr.  de  la 
Mare  on  the  fact  that  he  has  the  distinction 
of  being  the  first  recipient  of  the  Edmond  de 
Polignac  prize.  (Applause.)  Ladies  and 
o-entlemen,  that  closes  the  business. 


ADLARD  AND  SON,  IMl'K.,  LONDON  AND  DORKING. 


£ 


BINDING  SEC ».    JUL 4    1*0 


PN  Royal  Society  of  Literature 

22  of  the  United  Kingdom,   London 

R6  Essays  ^r  divers  hands 

Ser.2 
v.31 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
CARDS  OR  SLIPS  FROM  THIS  POCKET 


UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY